Double-Crossed

GM: Feather
Players: Posh, Lost, Abel, Turk
Synopsis: The players are sent on what seems like a straightforward gang hit, and everything seems to go so well. But nothing is quite what it seems when the Triads are involved.
Date: January 7, 2075

It's another wonderful monday night in Denver. The temperature has warmed during these last few pleasant days, though warmer here is merely an upgrade from nearly-freezing to uncomfortably cold. But you're OK. You might or might not even be a little happy; 50 degrees is almost a godsend during the winter. Hopefully it won't get much worse. But when you get the call for a job, you might just think it will.

It starts with Posh and Lost. They get a text via disposable pager from their favorite Chinese girl. Hopefully this turn will involve a little less treachery than the last. "The elder wants to see you," it says. "The time has come to talk to his friend. You may want to bring some friends of your own."


Posh had been a little curious about the capabilities of the dwarf who'd messaged her, and had wanted to see him in action, so with the chance for a potential job comes up and he's fresh in her memory, she fires him off a quick message. "«Was thinking we could discuss softs a little more. I'm getting an intro to be able to get what you want. But more importantly, I've got a line on some work. Was thinking can see how we operate in the field together. Game for making a little scratch?»

Abel receives a smile and a more jocular invite. «Looks like we've got an opportunity for some sport, tonight, Abel, and I could use the backup. You game?»


50 degrees is almost shorts weather for people who have been hardened to harsh winters. Denver, however, despite tending to get a goodly amount of snow during the winter, also has the benefit of much more sunshine during the day than a lot of other places. For Lost, though, as a native of the Pacific Northwest, 50 degrees is pretty standard winter day. And it's not even raining. When she gets the text, she quickly shoots one off to Posh, « Got anyone in mind for this? I spoke with her briefly yesterday… 'friend' is likely not the most accurate title for this man, if I understood her correctly. Anyway, I'll see you at the meet » And presumably she busies herself with preparations for undertaking shenanigans.


A location was attached to the message. It's a back alley in a quiet corner in the worst part of the CAS district, adjoining some of the more porous parts of the Warrens border. Well … more porous than usual; most of the gangers who try their luck with those lanes end up getting shot to pieces by the always-eager CAS patrols. But enough successful smuggling does happen here to feed the black market groups that lurk beneath Denver's shadows.

The meet point is a few blocks from the Three Happiness restaurant. Not good already. That's a known front of the Black Dragon Triad. It doesn't help that it's essentially an unlit dead-end alley.

The Chinese girl is there, leaning against her motorcycle like it's her best friend. The half-dozen Triad goons near her certainly aren't. They send looks of hate her way every few moments, when they think she isn't looking. But behind them is somebody who looks nicer, a wide, jocular smile painted on his face. It's Suen Qiang. Posh and Lost know him. He almost looks like a grandfatherly figure, though those who know what's what in the Asian underworld know him as one of a ruthless leader of the Black Dragons.

The chinese girl's face is briefly illuminated as she puffs her e-cig. "Hello, gwailos."


Plan 9 From Outerspace - aka, the Turk - is alerted to the incoming message while prepping a home system for a new suite. He frowns down at it, before sending a quick reply. <Scratch? Always, omae.> And then pulling himself back to the meat.
IT was a trap. Obviously. He hadn't know this Posh long enough. But to who was she working? Which section of the Unified Conspiracy? Perhaps she was one of the Others, the vampire conclaves? OR… or… an alien. One way to find out.

Leap into the trap. And see just how far down the rabbit hole goes.

Thus it is that the Turk arrives in a LZ Tsarina, making sure to get it parked about a block away. Never bring your main ride to a meet! A quiet check along his person, before the dwarf heads for the Meet. And the triad goons. Ha. Yeah right. More like shape shifting spirits wrapped in cacoons of flesh. But best not to let them know that he knew that they might know what he knows.
Safer that way.


Abel was hanging around in his boxers when he got the text. He fired one back quickly enough before going to get dressed. «Sure. Where is the meet?»

Abel shows up a bit later in the CAS, sans his usual weaponry, unwilling to try and smuggle it across the border in a taxi. He is dropped off about two blocks away and makes his way to the meeting place with a duffelbag over one shoulder. The collar on his greatcoat was popped up high, doing a good job at hiding his face from all but a head-on view. A lowered gaze and his gray flatcap doing well to hide his eyes. He turns down the dark alleyway and into this nerve-wrackingly dangerous situation without a single weapon on his body. This could go very, very poorly…
——
The trap has red hair and a big smile.

Posh is standing there as Turk arrives, her rather hippy self a little overdressed for the area, the sheen of Zoe manufacture on her blue sylk top a little flash, but she's got a reasonably businesslike long coat and sunglasses type thing going on. She'd dropped off her Land Rover at the Keeps and then hopped into a taxi, dropped off ahead of time as she awaits by the entrance to the alleway. "Ah, good thing you're here, gentlemen," she says in her high tea accent. "There wasn't a chance I was headed into that alleyway alone," she says.


In street clothes with a duffel in tow, Lost arrives, apparently not bothering with any attempt at a disguise. Trying to blend in as Chinese would likely only be seen as an insult, and besides Suen Qiang already knows her face. Still, given the location, she approaches the alley warily, but seems rather put at ease when she joins with the rest of the group, nodding to Posh with a grin, "Yes… dark alleyways are not exactly the sort of place you go for a stroll in this or any other neighborhood, really…"

Emboldened by numbers, she advances into the alleyway, seemingly put at ease a bit by the smiling face of Suen Qiang. The man is favored with a polite bow, while the girl gets a nod in greeting and a bit of a smirk, "We do have names, you know?" She says directly to the girl leaning against her motorcycle, "But I guess we all look the same to you, huh?" From her tone, it's likely she's teasing.


"L. H. Oswald."

States 'The Turk', raising his hat to 'Posh'. "Most simply refer to me as The Turk. Shall we?" HE's got an odd accent. Hebrew or something. And then in they go! The smile fading away as he is called 'Gwailo'. HA. That mental trigger won't work on him, he had all his triggers changed last week.
He doesn't let the victory show on his face.


Posh dips her head. "Lady Clankington," she replies, introducing herself. "Though ever since earlier in my career, I haven't been able to escape the moniker of 'Posh,'" she says, annoyed at the dwarven rigger she remembers who stuck her with that name. "Well," she says. "At least it's better than my irst handle was," she says resting her hand on one of her wide hips. Her amusement fades as well as Feather addresses them. "Well, aren't you a treat," she says, but moves to follow. "I suppose we'd best get started."


"Ladies. So good to see you!" Qiang begins. His arms swing wide in a gesture of openness as his smile snakes into a slightly-lopsided grind, just a hint of a shark-like quality on his face. "I hope you have fond memories of our restaurant. I really do take great pride in my cooking," he says. He gestures to the Chinese girl, as if she were waiting for his signal. For her part, she does seem to quickly respond, though as the vaporizer again flares up on her e-cig, you can see the dissatisfaction on her face. She's holding a few sheets of folded epaper, which she begins to hand out to everyone here. Looks like a data sheet with a tiny attached device, probably rigged to burn itself out. Crude but probably effective for its purpose: temporary information storage. It starts with a picture, though it's just a little fuzzy.

"This man has a name. It's not particularly important. He has a history too. None of you should care about it," the Chinese girl begins. "If you accept, we are to talk to him, and when we are done talking," she says matter-of-factly, as if she were commenting on the cold weather, "he will not talk to anyone ever again. I brought you here because this gwailo," a brief gesture to Posh, "assured me she was a professional, capable of such work. If she has called you here, the same assumption will be made of you."

The older man interrupts. "Now, now. No need to be so rude to our guests. We merely want to make sure you're up to the task set before you? It would be most unfortunate if you were to disappoint us; we are hoping to be generous with you, after all, if you are able to perform well."


Abel nods once quietly to Posh and Lost in greeting, the two being people he knew at least fairly well. The dwarf was given a lingering glance before he followed the group into the dark and scary alleyway, looking at the asian elf and the group of scary gangers and the deceptively kindly looking older man. He doesn't bow, just stands quietly with his hands in his pockets, acting casual and keeping his mouth shut.

The young teen accepts the papers and looks over the photo, giving a small nod of his head in acceptance. No words, just a quiet and polite nod.


"Admittedly, this is not the sort of work I'm best suited to," Lost replies to the girl as she gives the photo a quick once-over, but as Qiang speaks up, she focuses her attention more on him, "But professionalism is important to me, and I would never dream of disappointing a man such as yourself." She says, with another deferential nod to the elder. Looking around at the rest of the group, she glances at the Turk briefly, giving the dwarf a slight upnod in greeting before turning back to Qiang, "In any case, I am certain that between us all, we have the requisite skills to ensure this man's… silence."


The halfer glances across the paper work, quietly reaching up with a hand to tap at the side of his skull, beneath the long hair. A click, and he pulls out one tiny disk. Which slips up into a case, for another to come out and slide in.
Ah.
And then it's back to studying the paper for a moment, before frowning and tugging at his beard. ".. What's the time line on the talk?" He asks, glancing back up to the - HA - triad goons. OOoh, he knows your secret, you little insect host. But that's okay; Turk can play ball.


Posh looks a little warily at Qiang, and the thing that would warm her expression, which would have been more of that aforementioned food, is not immediately apparent. Still, she pastes a smile on her phyz, and then nods to the chinese girl. "Well," she says, looking around. "I thought that I could deliver people. Though, it -does- pay to be brutally specific on such things," she says. "Are we being contracted for a death, or a tongue removal?" she asks, removing her sunglasses and considering both the man, and then Feather a little unhappily. It seems clear that she feels as if the precise nature of the job was a little misleading, but, frankly, that she does not find it particularly objectionable either. However, any sourness in her expression is reserved only for Feather; she's all smiles for Qiang.


"That's good!" Qiang says. "Very good. I'm glad you are such a well-rounded party. However … " His enthusiasm dampens slightly. "You haven't been called here for your skills. As you can imagine, my own employees are also skilled professionals." The men around him, at least, seem unimpressed by you. You could take them … maybe. But they seem like the sorts who wouldn't hesitate in fighting down to the last man.

"But if these fine gentlemen were to engage in this conversation, it would send the wrong signal. Sometimes it takes an objective, outside party to avoid escalating a conflict." Deniability, then, seems to be what he's hinting at.

And then his smile flares outward again. "But one area where you might shine, one area I'm hoping your reputation is deserved, is that of discretion! This is to be a private conversation. If a large number of people were to get involved, it would send the wrong message."

"Only him, and if necessary, his inner circle, will find silence today. This is why you've been called here on such short notice. Your window to do this work is limited. He is exposed now, but once he learns of our intent, your window of opportunity will close. Timeliness, too, is something I must demand from you here." And then a brief laugh, a hint of warmth mixed in with its bitter edge. "I should leave you to it, in fact, since you seem so agreeable. Is there anything else you wish to know?" Here he signals to one of his men. Whatever lock was on your epaper seems to have just been opened. The picture clarifies in a few moments, and other data starts to scroll down the page. Looks like some very basic recon of a specific place.


Abel looks over the page as it unlocks, doing a quick scan. "Is he or any of his people magi?" Other than that he doesn't seem to have any more questions.


As the data unlocks on the e-paper, Lost starts to scan it, trying to take in all the most pertinent details at once. Hopefully the paper doesn't burn away immediately, as it might be nice to have for a reference later. After a moment reading, she looks back to up Qiang with a smile, "If time is of the essence, all I would ask is how many guards might we expect to be on hand to protect this man, and will we be operating in an area where law enforcement response will be an issue?" She also nods to Abel as he asks his question.


Turk glances once to the papers, quietly looking for the usual suspects; Addresses of significant numbers, locations of known leylines, and other trivia that's useful for a hunter of truth; Otherwise, the important questions have been asked. Timeline, and magic.


Posh decided not to add more words, instead dipping her head a little graciously in response to Qiang's words. "Indeed," she says. "Is it important to you that he is the only one permanently silenced?" she asks. "As in, do you want to make sure that a clear message is left that he is the target of a death? Or would you like him to simply disappear, to never be seen from again?" she asks. "And most importantly when considering such a mission: Does the target have a SIN?" she asks.


"They will not call the police," Qiang says matter-of-factly, drawing his hands together. He seems awfully certain of that. Then again, if this were a gang hit, that just might make sense. "The man is relaxing at one of his houses of leisure. As they own the establishment, they have opted to close it for the night for their own personal enjoyment, and the only people present are the establishment's staff and his inner circle. We suspect he will leave sometime in the early morning, so you have a few hours at most. We're not certain of any details beyond that, but … " and here he directs a baleful glance at the Chinese girl, filled with passive aggression.

"Your friend here has enough experience in these matters to give you an idea of what you're dealing with. Is that not right, fenghuang mieshi?" It's a Chinese phrase which Lost and Posh might recognize. The old man threw it at this girl a few times during their last meeting. It's not a friendly set of words, judging by how she winces. He's hitting some kind of nerve and delighting in it.

But whatever the case, the conversation seems to be over. Qiang gestures to his men. They depart the alley, and about twenty seconds later, you can hear vehicles pulling up. Through the mouth of the alley, you see a few black Suburbans roll away. Again, the girl's face is illuminated by her e-cig, though she seems done with whatever fluid she has been puffing on. She slides the cig into her pocket and speaks. "We're going to need transportation. We can talk more on the way there."


Posh dips her head in a polite approximation of…something, like a bow, usually all that's expected of Europeans trying to be polite. "Thank you for your indulgence, then, sir," she says. "I'm going to ensure that your problem is taken care of," she confirms, nodding to Feng, and then to the others in the room, turning to them. "All right. I'm happy to ring up my friend Sara," she says. "She can smuggle us across. Or I can just drive. I think we should just swing by the target location once, no stopping, just to get eyeballs on the place, on the way," she suggests. "Then, we decide what to do nearby, and…go ahead and do it. Does anyone need to visit stashes?" she asks.


Feather hops onto her bike without further words. She doesn't seem like the talkative type anyway. Even though everyone agrees on a radio frequency beforehand, she doesn't use it for most of the ride. You find yourself heading through the sector, Posh following Feather somewhere. You do have to pass through a checkpoint, but it proves simple enough. Feather clears it first. Then your vehicle rolls up. Posh's SIN clears, the vehicle doesn't raise any WMD alarms, and beyond staring into the cabin for a few moments and seeing no troublemakers (orks or trolls), the crossing guard doesn't seem to give even a quarter of a fuck.

But before you get wherever you're going, Feather's voice finally filters in through the comm, her usual monotone with thinly-veiled hostility. "That's the target area. Look carefully." Somebody rolls a window halfway down, so you can look and listen, and you scope out the target. After doing one circle of the block, Feather leads you down the street a bit farther, finding the shady backside of some slumlord's favorite holding.

This is a D-zone, again near the Warrens border, though UCAS-flavored this time. And the target? You all get a pretty good luck at it. It's a standalone business building which takes up about a quarter of the small block it's on. It seems like a beacon of cleanliness in this grimy place, better-kept than the stuff around it, with some faux Japanese decor around the front entrance. No visible signage, though. Whatever this place is, it seems do business by word-of-mouth, though.


After doing that bit of drive-by-recon, Feather leads you to a safe spot a few blocks from the target building. She hops off her bike and waits. Looks like she's waiting there to hash out a plan with everyone.


OOC Note: Players are asked for perception rolls, security knowskill rolls, and street knowledge rolls, to see what their general impressions are as they briefly scout the target area.

«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Intelligence:
1 1 2 4 5 10
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Security Procedures:
1 5 7
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Intelligence:
2 3 3 4 4 7
«Auto-Judge[]» Abel (#13016) rolls Intelligence:
2 2 3 4 5 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Abel (#13016) rolls Security systems:
2 5 10
«Auto-Judge[]» Abel (#13016) rolls Prostitution Rackets:
1 2
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Intelligence for "Enhanced Hearing.":
2 2 2 4 8 11
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Security Systems:
1 1
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Shadowscene Players:
3 4 7
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Street Rumors:
3 4

To (Abel, Lyra), Feather pages: You're not really sure, but you suspect it's a "massage parlor."

To (Turk, Lyra), Feather pages: A few of your less-self-respecting Japanese shadow buddies like to spend a few hours in there every so often. They've blown you off to do so. And they seem super happy the next day.

«Plot» Feather says, "You don't spot any guards or obvious security measures on the exterior. Doesn't look like this place has much security, at least from what little you've seen."


Abel once the group has all gotten together Abel pipes up. "Not sure if it matters too much, but I think that's a rub-n-tug." He even makes a lewd masterbatory motion with his hand that finishes with a little explosion of his hand. "Happy ending massage, ya know?"
Abel leans against his duffelbag while still sitting in the backseat of the van, his feat hanging out of the vehicle as he faces the group.
"So, I would suggest you all hash out the beginnings of a plan, and I'll scope the place out astrally. That sound good?"
——
Posh gives a nod to Feather. "Well," she says. "I think we need to try to find a way to penetrate as far a possible into the facility before going violent," she says. "That means," she says, a little thoughtfully. "How effectively do you think I could play into the stereotype of a big, blowsy, idiot foreigner, letting you all box in a room, and then we open fire? I'm fast, we can do this quick. I think that the right /edge/ is all we need, whether social or stealth," she says. "What do you think of that? Perhaps you're my…nephew, Abel, and we're hunting real estate in the city?" she asks, turning to Abel. "That sounds fab. We'll watch your body, how about it?" she asks turning to Lost. "What do you think about calling in your gravelly friends?"


«Plot» Feather says, "For the sake of expedience, I will be doing some grossly-simplified rolls for basic decking. Prove computer, electronics, and electronics b/r please, Turk."

«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Jackpoint Locations:
1

«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) has the Active Skill Computers with the value '6' (only to Lyra).
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) has the Active Skill Specialization Computers (Decking) with the value '7' (only to Lyra).
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565)'s Skillsofts (#10056) has the Voucher Item 1 Skillsoft Electronics (R4) with the following information
Item Name: Skillsoft Electronics (R4)
Item Name: Skillsoft Electronics B/R (R4)

To (Turk, Lyra), Feather pages: You may pose setting up your sat dish and doing an information search. Roll computers, and I will pose the result.
To (Turk, Lyra), Feather pages: If you have a search utility you wish to use to help you, use its rating as comp dice.

«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Computers (Decking) for "Searching…":
2 3 3 4 4 9 11
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls 5 for "Browse R5 Comp":
1 3 4 5 8

To (Feather, Lyra), Turk pages: Hunting out the place itself. Layout, clients, hits on the 'trix. Then our target too.


Snickering at Abel's comment, Lost takes a moment to survey the area « Doesn't look like the sort of place you just walk into, anyway… » Lost comments over the commline, « But I'll join in the astral recon. With the two of us, we should be able to get a run down of the place in a literal blink of an eye. » Looking to Posh, she smiles, "Best to make sure there's no one who can see them on the astral first. That way, they'll be able to move where they need to be. I would think our best best would be to first identify the target and then try to isolate him… and if it is a 'massage' parlor," The actual meaning of the phrase is evident in her tone, "I'd imagine it'd be tough to just sweep on through without encountering some kind of resistance."


"There's a sort of conversational head of steam that I'm able to manage, and often that's enough to breach often past a second door," says Posh with a chuckle. "Sort of like the social equivalent of a cavalry wedge. But that was just the first idea off the top of my head," she says. "It looks like this will call for nasty short-range combat. I'm certainly game."


The Turk watched out the window as they passed; It wasn't that great for him, considering he's a dwarf, which means only the spot above his nose was showing above the window. He had to stretch upwards. Damn stret legs. When they arrive, he glances at the little circle begin talking amongst themselves. Was this the trap? Or something worse. Were they judging him? Preparing to make their move? Hard to say.
".. I'll just go take a peek around, hm?" He says, to Posh, before setting up a tiny portable dish from a small bag he kept his deck in. And plugging in.


Posh grins to Turk. "Sounds like a plan," she agree. "I'll provide a little cover for the both of you, I suppose," she says, making sure that nobody gets jumped while they're slumped.


Lost and Abel work first, and fast. They're hurtling through the astral at the speed of thought, after all, though they do slow down to take a peek at what's what. And what do they see? This place is hot and cold. Lots of people floating around in there, about two dozen, though it's not clear who's who. One thing jumps out at them first, though. Lots of the boys? They glow. Tats, so many tats, and in this concentration, that generally only means one thing: the Yakuza. But the girls? A whole lot of them seem to have auras dimmed by ware: headware specifically. And the mana in there is almost noxious, a heavy background count which reeks of exploitation and misery, despite the admittedly pretty nice decor inside.

Turk knows about that. Because he gets pretty damn lucky on his own journey at the speed of thought, finding a very poorly-protected set of floor plans on a very poorly-protected host of the shittier side of the department of the sector's inspector's office. You know, the guys who look after the places nobody gives a fuck about. Then again, if the Yaks bribed their way to getting this place OK'd, their inspectors probably don't have much in the way of dough.

And Posh and Feather stand around uselessly, the usual glare wafting in Posh's direction from Feather. "These are your men." Seems like she has a very cut-and-dried way of looking at things. "You lead them effectively last time. I'll follow you, as long as you produce results." She waits until everyone starts to rouse from their stupor to finish her thoughts. "Whoever has the opportunity to land the killing strike on the target, take it. If you have to put down others, so be it. But leave as many survivors as you can beyond that."


To (Turk, Lyra), Feather pages: Beyond the plans, you uncover only the most basic information. Abel was right. It's licensed as a "therapeutic massage clinic." It looks legit, on the surface. If there's anything incriminating about it, they don't keep those records electronically, or perhaps at all.


«Plot» Abel says, "Magical tats?"
«Plot» Feather says, "Yes. They're active on the astral."


Posh frowns a little thoughtfully. "They are?" she asks. "Lost is just a friend, and Turk here is a customer I might have…" She wrinkles her nose. "All right. Fine. I'm in charge here, and the first order of business is for you to stop being such a damn sourpuss," she says. "Whatever we do, we have to do it fast, and we have to do it with /aggression,/" she says, looking to the others. "I'm willing to take the spot up front, and lead that aggression. Miss Motorcycle - you're going to back me up. What I'm going to be doing is I'm going to get suppressing enemies. I'm pretty quick to counter-fire, and a well placed pistol shot, even a miss, can cool someone's ardor," she explains. "All right. Abel should be in the same roll backup on me, with the shotgun. Invisible, preferably. Turk," she says. "What about you. How should I best use you on this one? I've got not much experience working with a decker on crew - if we we manage to get a dongle into whatever security system is inside, can you take it over remotely?" she asks, turning to Lost with a grin. "Want me to get all bossy on you too?" she asks.


"Feather," the Chinese girl replies simply. "If I must have a new name in this city, the name of my blade will suffice." Who … the fuck names a sword? Then again, it probably makes perfect sense to Turk.


«Plot» Feather says, "Sorry. To clarify, for the sake of expediency, I had you guys come around just as she finished speaking."

«Plot» Feather says, "If you want further rolls for checking out more stuff before you do, please let me know."

«Plot» Feather says, "We'll assume it all happened before you woke up."

«Plot» Abel says, "Assensing the Yakuza guys to see if they are awakened, or if the magic is just the tats."

«Auto-Judge[]» Abel (#13016) rolls Intelligence:
1 2 3 5 5 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Abel (#13016) rolls Aura Reading:
2 4 10

«Plot» Lost is doing the same.

«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Intelligence for "Assensing.":
4 4 5 5 5 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Aura Reading:
1 2 4


Turk eventually comes back from having his head almost literally in the clouds, writing the package to his deck as he begins packing up. "Ah. Floor plans." He states to the Jester Spirit named Posh. He knows your secret!! "And the are licensed as a "massage parlor. No doubt there are a few funky things happening."
All a cover for the japanese Illuminati, no doubt. He then wrinkles his nose at the question. "Well, yes, I can do that. I can also speak Japanese, set demo, and shoot things if all else fails." A bright smile


After the quick zip around the astral, Lost returns to her body, looking at the rest of team briefly, "Looks like about twenty or so people inside, hard to really tell who's who. Doesn't look like there are any mages on sit, but a lot of guys with magical tattoos from what I could see. And… it also looked as if it would be difficult to get a spell off inside…" That last comment is directed most at Abel before shee turns a smile on Posh, "If you have a plan in mind, lead. Close combat is not a strength for me, which is why I would recommend trying to isolate the target if possible. Unfortunately, couldn't really identify him from the astral."


«Plot» Feather says, "Ok. The less-than-desirable state of mana in there makes it more difficult than usual, but you still get a pretty good idea of what's going on. Looks like about eight men with tats. Four of them are Awakened. One aura is brigther than the others. You can't really tell if it's the hit target on the astral. The auras of the men with tats tend to be laden with Yak symbology. Their arms might appear to have Eastern dragon scales, etc."


Posh shakes her head. "Isolating the target is too complex and adds too many things that might go wrong," she says. "We've got a picture and we know where he is, generally, right?" she asks. "What if we were to stake out the place were he's supposed to be to get a positive identification? We've got enough people to do so," she says.


«Plot» Feather says, "You've driven past the building he's in. You remember that it has black-out curtains. Not entirely unexpected if it's a brothel or almost-so, as is being said."


Abel had passed out for a little bit in the back seat. He did eventually pop back up. Looking around as people chat he nods to Lost in agreement. He offers to the group as an additive point, "I saw four awakened auras in the men. One of which was significantly stronger. Lots of Yaks and Dragons in the aura, if that means anything. I'm not big on Japanese symbology."
To Posh specifically he says, "I don't have my shotgun, and I'm Abel. Cain is the illusionist. If I go inside the building, it will be rough for me to do any kind of attack spell. I'll be best used setting shields around a hit team, or trapping the target if he tries to bolt."
——
«Plot» Feather says, "Can we assume Turk passed out chips of the floor plans to everyone?"
«Plot» Feather says, "Lets assume he did so. Pose it in your next pose please, Turk."


Having pulled the download to his deck, Turk sets about passing out datachips with the floor plan. For thos too poor to have a pocsec? A are-you-serious look and a suggestion they look over someone's shoulder.


«Plot» Feather says, "It looks like there's one back entrance leading out to a back parking lot for patrons. It leads into a fairly tight hallway which spreads out into a bunch of "massage rooms". There's a big central area past that hallway with a large marble fountain surrounded by seating in its rim. A few faux marble pillars are scattered there. Supposedly a leisure area where one can be entertained by geisha, according to the explanation given to the inspector. The front entrance has two double doors, leading into a medium-sized room with a few more faux marble pillars and a reception desk. The actual building materials here appear to be shoddy. There are a handful of windows, but they're typically obscured by blackout curtains. You can't be sure of what's locked or guarded. Lost and Abel noticed that a few of the guys were busy in the massage rooms, and few others were walking around."


Posh nods. "Lost," she says. "Your elementals. Can they knock people out, or are they always brutally deadly?" she asks.


"They can knock people out," Lost replies, "So together with the three of them, I might be able to run crowd control, at least knock a few guys out of the fight." She furrows her brow, "I'm trying to think of some way to do this more clinically, but I'm not coming up with anything…"


Turk glances between the group, and tugs on his beard again. What's the meaning of it all? All this magic in one place? It's a plot, he just has to figure out -where- it's coming from. Maybe the Conclave from south america? The voudon kings of the crescent? Or atlanteans?! Hard to say. When they begin talking clinical, though, he glances up.
".. I have a ruger I do taking about here and there for just such an occasion?" He suggests.


Abel looks at his Pocsec. "Throw the elementals through the front while a strike team moves through the back. Clears these back rooms and use the main room here as a killbox? I should be able to armour up the strike team. There is the worry of the ones who are awakened dispelling the elementals, so it's a gamble of the spirits lasting that long."


"They should be able to stand for awhile if it's just guns…" Lost mentions, "But if there's a decent conjurer in their midst, that would be problematic." After a shrug, she continues, "They should be a convenient distraction if nothing else. As you said, Abel, it's just a matter of whether they can buy enough time or not."


Posh nods to Abel. "That's exactly along the lines that I was thinking. Use the elementals to plug one entrance to both distract and make sure that they cant do it," she says. "The thing is, we have to make sure this is done quiet. So, I'm going to say…let's try to do it without gunshots, even. We shouldn't be surprised if there are hatchets and cyberspurs as much as guns in there," she says, glancing over to the massage parlor, and then back at the group. "All right. Lost, see if you can summon the elementals at the back door. Go ahead, and start doing that now. That'll prevent escapes, and we have a place we can flee to for help if we have to. Then," She grins. "The rest of us are going through the front door. Abel, I'm going to be attracting as much attention as possible, along with Turk," she says. "You're going to back up Feather," she says. "Cast armor on her. Feather, do what you have to do. Any tricks you need to. You're going to be there to use that sword of yours on anyone that Turk and I have managed to weaken with gunshots," She looks around the group. "All clear on their roles?" she asks. "All right. Let's move. Turk, you're going to be acting like a horny little bastard; me, I'm going to be the hot elf that your success and wealth have managed to set up for yourself. Sound good?" she asks, grinning. "Daddy? Abel and Feather will be attendants. If they attack or get suspicious, we immediately attack. We talk our way as far in as we can, so that we can start a fight with local numbers on our side. Anyone have any last questions about this plan before we begin to execute it?" she asks, firmly.


Feather adds one bit of last-minute advice to the team. "I've fought the Yakuza before. I'm not sure if they've stayed true to their ways in a city such as this, where firearms are so prevalent, but many of them tend to favor personal combat over ranged weaponry. I'd be on your guard. If you're unskilled combatants, you let them close with you at your own peril."


Abel shakes his head. "If I'm going to be armoring anyone up, I'm not going in the building. I won't be able to dodge or cast spells while keeping the armor up, especially in a place with that kind of acidic background. Having me go inside will be a bit useless."


Posh slaps hereself in the forehead. "Of course," she says. "No customers. It's all locked up." She nods, thoughtfully. "All right," she says. "Here. If they're enjoying the place for themselves, then…" She grins. "All right. I'm going to be going in alone, and unarmed," she says. "I'll be able to slip a switchblade in my arm compartment. That's good enough. I'll knock on the door and say that one of their allied gang buddies had me sent as a present," she says, nodding a bit. "Then, I'll have a chance to scout things out. I can also hide a micro-transciever in there. Then, on my signal, somehow, as soon as I can locate the target, I'm going to attempt to assassinate him. That's when the elementals attack the front door, the three of you," she says, turning to Turk, Abel, Feather, "attack the front door, and I will get out in the confusion. You don't need to expose yourselves to danger, just engage," she says. "I know this plan has a lot of risk to me, but if I get made, I won't be in danger for long. I'm likely to be faster than anyone a gang at this outfit can get, and I'll be able to call for help."


Even as Posh speaks, the dwarf is pulling out a small hard case of chips. He mous, considering them, before clicking the case closed and tucking it back inside his jacket. Finally looking up to Posh, with a bright grin. "You're a little tall for me, but we'll make do. At least the hips are at the right height." He then frowns again, and tugs on his beard before reaching under his jacket. Checking on a few other things as he speaks.
"Of course, it's probably locked up tight right now. we can always try?" And then she has a new plan. And he shrugs, and nods. Well, if the 'Ms. Clankingworth' wanted to be a grope target, who was he to argue. "Okay."


Posh looks a little embarrassed at Turk. "Well," she says. "Sorry about that flittiness. I'd forgotten the detail about the business not being open to the public, so I rather had to trash that first one," she says. "I'm quite happy to go in with this one, and I know it's riskiest on me." She chuckles. "I can't quite see the hole in this one though. I'm going to go for it. I suppose I'd just better work on being…a…convincing whore," she says, a little smirk on her face.


«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Disguise for "Yeah.":
1 1 5 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Disguise for "Yeah. ~karma 1 spent":
2 3 4 4
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Disguise for "Yeah. ~karma 3 spent o.o":
1 4 5 11


«Auto-Judge[]» Abel (#13016) rolls Sorcery + 2 + Sorcery Pool: 3 vs TN 6 for "Armor 5 on Feather. +2 Dice for Manip spell.":
2 2 3 3 3 3 3 3 4 11 16 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Abel (#13016) rolls Willpower + 2 + Sorcery Pool: 3 vs TN 7 for "Soaking M":
1 1 2 2 2 3 3 4 4 4 5 5 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Abel (#13016) rolls Willpower + 2 + Sorcery Pool: 3 vs TN 7 for "Soaking M kp1/5":
1 2 2 3 3 4 5 5 7 11 15 20 = 4 Successes
«Plot» Abel says, "Full soak. Feather gets +5 Armor."

«Auto-Judge[]» Abel (#13016) rolls Sorcery + 2 + Sorcery Pool: 3 vs TN 8 for "Armor 5 on Tusk. +2 Dice for Manip spell. +2tn for holding a spell.":
1 2 2 4 4 4 4 5 5 5 11 = 1 Success

«Auto-Judge[]» Abel (#13016) rolls Willpower + 2 + Sorcery Pool: 3 vs TN 7 for "Soaking M":
1 1 2 2 2 2 2 4 4 4 4 11 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Abel (#13016) rolls Willpower + 2 + Sorcery Pool: 3 vs TN 7 for "Soaking M Kp:2/5":
1 2 2 2 3 3 4 4 4 7 7 14 = 3 Successes
«Plot» Abel says, "Full soak for both spells."

«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) has the Attribute Quickness with the value '6'.
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) has the Attribute Quickness with the value '5' (only to Lyra and Feather).

«Plot» Feather says, "Armor from spells counts both toward quickness penalties and combat pool penalties according to the armor HR's here. (+bbread 3/1) So for the sake of avoiding dealing with a bunch of weird penalties, we're going to assume the following: the armor spells were cast on Lost and Turk instead. Since it was feeling very bulky, Turk removed his armor shirt to let himself move properly, getting only his FFBA armor. So for the purpose of the remainder of the run, while Abel sustains his spells, Lost has 9/6 armor and Turk has 8/5 armor. No combat pool lost."

«Plot» Abel says, "Spells will be cast on the duo while out of sight of the building, because these two will be glowing."


Posh reaches down and begins to modify her outfit. Yes, it's pretty bad stuff - popping open her jeans, slathering on the makeup, pinning up her top to just under her bust, She changes the hair to a rich cornsilk blonde. The transformation is remarkable - from classy curve redhead to street 'n porny relatively quickly. "All right," she says, popping in a piece of gum. "Ah think we're ready to go, y'all. In my experience, nothin' many of these tough guys like more than a blonde," she says.


Turk is still quietly checking his equipment. For the around the town look, he had his cerebus, with matching permit
for his SIN. But for dirtier work, he'd brought an oldie but a goldie, as a predator. And he's quietly screwing a silencer in as well.

Turk glances up for a moment as Posh goes about turning herself into something - less gentlewomanly. "For what it is worth.." He begins. "You make a good whore?" Bright smile. Whore of BABYLON, perhaps! He knows your secret.


The team quietly moves into position. Whatever's going on inside, it seems to have distracted the occupants inside pretty well, allowing them to slip toward the building undetected. Abel has hands full magically sustaining two spells, fortifying Lost and Turk, and so he hangs back, hiding behind a dumpster across the street from the front entrance. Meanwhile, Lost approaches the rear with her elementals while Feather and Turk approach the front with Posh. As Feather and Turk take cover, staying flat against a nearby wall, Posh finds herself standing in front of a pair of pair of glass door, curtains drawn concealing what's behind them. She checks. It's locked.


Turk pushes up tight against the wall, the silenced predator out but kept low behind his thigh for the moment. Well, he's already got a glowing spell on him (reading his thoughts? Quick, showtunes! Quid pro quo, yes or no, give me what I want or go..) while he keeps an 'ear' out for trouble..


To (Feather, Lyra), Turk pages: Mind if I use ENCHANCED HEARING to keep an ear out?
To (Turk, Lyra), Feather pages: Sure. What hearing ware do you have?

«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Intelligence for "Perception w/ amplified hearing. Naughty eavesdropper.":
2 3 3 4 8 16

To (Turk, Lyra), Feather pages: You hear a lot, some of it sexual, some of it disturbing. This is more than just a "happy ending" massage parlor, and probably not in a good way. But nothing useful just yet.


Abel closes his eyes and holds his hands out briefly to the two receivers of his magical juices. Once the spells are firmly in place and an almost physical wince of the stress of two powerful spells, the teen puts his hand in his pockets and wanders across and down the street a little ways, but within well enough distance to have line of sight with the opening of the building. He sits on a stoop. Abel is now Stoop Kid.


Posh saunters her way right up to the front door, her switchblade held in her body compartment. She rechecks the image of the target on her display link, to make sure she knows who they're after, and just heads up. And when she's presented with the locked door? She knocks, gently.


«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Gang Identification for "Knowing a friendly gang who 'sent' me":
2 3 4 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Gang Identification for "Knowing a friendly gang who 'sent' me ~4 karma spent":
1 4 5 7

«Plot» Feather says, "You know a kid from a local go-gang street crew that runs with souped-up Honda 3220's and a healthy disregard for human life. They take orders from the Yaks."


A few tense moments pass. And then the curtains part ever-so-slightly, a Japanese face, a young male in his early 20's, staring out toward Posh. He looks her up. He looks her down. "What do you want?"


After the plan is agreed upon, Lost ducks out of the van and does her best to creep up toward the rear of the building. After taking a quick look around, she finds some cover and summons Bluster and Boulder, an Air and Earth elemental respectively, to action. Ordering them to materialize, she waits the long seconds the process takes with a somewhat anxious expression of her face, keeping her eyes peeled for any sort of danger that might appear. « I'm in position. » She says over comms, « Elementals on their way to reality. »


«Plot» Feather says, "Lost, please roll Perception after posing getting into position."

«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Intelligence:
2 4 4 4 9 11

«Plot» Feather says, "And how many available services do you have on those two elementals, Lost?"

«Plot» Feather says, "Do you have electronics or electronic b/r?"

«Plot» Lost says, "6 on Bluster, the air elemental, and 4 on Boulder. And I do not, no. Should learn."

«Plot» Feather says, "It's dark, but the nice facade on the front side of the building isn't here at the back. It's kinda raw here. Lost spots a locked metal panel on the back side of the building. Not sure what it's about, but it reminds you of a residential circuit breaker box, just bigger."


Posh gives a smile to the young man. "Well, sugar, I'm here to come join the party," she says. "Kenji had me rung up. Apparently thought that you boys would like something exotic," she replies, rather promisingly. "So you could say it's not what I want, it's what the boss might want with me," she says.


The young man looks Posh up and down once again. The look on his face is less-than-amused. "You are lucky the boss has a taste for gaijin." The curtains abruptly slide closed, and a moment later, you hear somebody fumbling with a keypad behind the door. Then a small maglock audibly slides into the open position, and the man opens the door for Posh. "A word of advice? Don't get on his bad side." And then he pauses as he starts to walk into the building, apparently expecting you to follow him. He turns back slightly as he walks, looking Posh up and down one more time. "You don't … you don't have a brother, do you?" Well. That explains why he'd rather watch the door.


«Plot» Feather says, "What are you using for communication, Posh?"

«Plot» Feather says, "Like your radio"

«Plot» Posh says, "This is my intention and you can rule if this flies or not, but I have the datajack port on the inside of the body compartment."

«Plot» Posh says, "So I put the microtransciever inside the body compartment, and then connect it to the datajack port. However, right now, it's turned off. It would turn on with thought as a free action, and since it's cybernetically hooked up via a datajack and router, I can text to speech through it."

«Plot» Posh says, "Failing that, I just have the microtrans turned off, in my body compartment."


« Looks like I've got a lock back here, too… » Lost says, peering at the device curiously, « Turk, I imagine this would be more your area of expertise, think you might be able to get around back and take a look before the bullets start flying? If I mess with it, I'm liable to just set off an alarm or something. If you can't, stay in position… I can just send the elementals through the door on the astral. No problem, just gonna take a little extra time, is all. »


Turk tugs on his beard for a moment, before comming back. «On the way.» He'll then try to backup and slip around to where Lost is..

To (Turk, Lyra), Feather pages: It looks like the power box for the building.


Posh nods to the young man with a shipper smile, and then gives a little bit of a shrug. Apparently, now that she's permitted through, she's not eager to mess up her temporary success for words. She moves to follow, wordlessly, but looks a little bit tired. As if she's just a working girl, with a job to do, she wants to do it well, but it's still a job.


Turk slips back towards Lost; Alas, most of his stealth will be lost by the glowing mojo. Really, he'll have to just learn to invest in some heavier armor rather than getting his soul pinged by some spectral parasite designed to take over his dreams. He takes one, good look at the box, then back to Lost. Box. Lost. Box. Lost.
".. It's a power box." He murmurs.


Lost blushes as she goes through a bit of the same routine, "A power box…" She says with a barely stifled laugh, trying to keep her voice as low as possible. "Well, I never claimed to know technology, but even I should be able to recognize a power box…" Shaking her head, she continues, grinning at the dwarf, "Can you turn off the power, then? That should make the extraction easier, at least."


To (Feather, Lyra), Turk pages: Electronics B/R to get it ready for Lost to pull? I don't wan t to kill it until we have word from Posh.

To (Feather, Lyra), Turk pages: Sound fair to you?

«Plot» Feather says, "Roll electronics b/r, Turk."

«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls 4 for "Getting stuff ready":
1 1 2 2

«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls 4 for "Getting stuff ready KP 1/3":
1 4 5 10

«Plot» Feather says, "It's rusted and kinda messed-up. Might take you a little while to get it open, but you can do it. It's kinda a mess in there, once you open it, though. It's a bunch of jury-rigged crap. They really did bribe somebody to let this place stay open. You're not sure what to do with it, much less Lost."


The entry room is what the floor plans indicated. The neighborhood sucks, but once you get in here, it actually is pretty nice. Sorta. There's the reception counter in front of the door, along with four columns leading to it, a red carpet between them. Marble, with a mix of Japanese and Grecoroman themes, seems to be theme here. And if they had hired a good contractor to execute this design, it might look classy. But they didn't, and it doesn't. The faux marble columns look cheap, and the "marble" floor, if it is real, is of a very poor grade and poorly polished. At the very least, though, somebody is trying to keep this place clean, even if that's difficult given the shoddy construction. But Posh is only there for a few moments, instead being lead toward a door on the far wall which leads to the "main room."

And as she approaches it, Posh can hear what Turk was hearing earlier: smex. Not really anything pleasant or erotic, though. It's kinda weird. Fake, even? And when Posh finally enters the large room, seeing the four Yaks sitting on the cushioned benches around the central fountain, three others near the room's periphery, she gets it. The dozen girls scattered around this room, in various states of undress? Chipped, all of them. Except for one, the only other "gaijin" in here. She's a rather odd wildcard. She's well-dressed, overly-confident, and she has a sharklike grin on her face. And the target? The target is sitting next to her.

"Did somebody order a gaijin?" Posh's escort calls out. All eyes on Posh. "A gift from Kenji!" A man stands up, looking to be about in his forties, full tat sleeves. He's the boss, apparently, and he wants the first go.


Turk smirks aside, but slides the chip out of the slot under his hair. A small case opened, a new chip drawn out and inserted. A quiet shiver as new knowledge slips like cold water down his nerves. He then pulls a small micro-kit from a vest pocket, and gets the power box open. Before blinking, and hissing aside.
".. This.. is.. not a good thing. It's held together by tape and devil rat droppings." He frowns, shrugs, but leaves it open for now. "Worse to worse.." He continues whispering "… tear all the wires loose. Without using your hands." He then slips THAT chip out, puts the hand-to-hand back in, and starts heading back towards his position..


«Plot» Feather says, "Abel has to go. I'm going to leave him NPC status, maintaining his spells, for the remainder of the run."

«Plot» Abel thumbs up. "I've shared my sheet. If an 'emergency' comes up Lost has final call."


Posh immediately spots another alpha woman and, she attempts to steer a medium course, lowering her eyes while maintaining an erect carriage - trying to present the woman that she is in no way a threat or even her social equal, but also that she is at the apex of her profession and is far more than the vapid bunraku puppets that litter the room.

She lifts her chin a bit at the suggestion of the one who'd asked for your brother, and then takes a step forward, proudly. "No, nobody -ordered- a gaijin," she says." Kenji sent -the- gaijin," she says. "I'm Ellyn, and I'm here to show you just how much Kenji appreciates your patronage," she explains, ignoring the functionary as she turns on the boss, suggesting, as if she would, the poise and grace of a regarded pillow lady rather than a gutter slut, despite her apparent getup - on her, the slutty outfit is something of a tool of the trade. Cosplay, -as- a gaijin street girl, without the bruises and railroad tracks of the real thing, it could be said - probably not an unpopular game in any place that values fishnets. Realizing that being caught in an orgy out in the open here reduces both her chances at an opportunity, she smiles. "I work best in…" she looks around. "More intimate settings." She looks up a little bit to the beautfiul woman. "I can't say I'm not hoping you'll be coming too, ma'am."


"Ok…" Lost says to the dwarf, though she looks a bit unsure of the operation. "Just… well, I guess I'll pull the wires once we hear from our girl." Smiling, she gives him a wave as he trudges back to the front. One of the elementals can rip out the wires, no sense in her doing it and opening herself up to a nasty, or even fatal shock. So she just creeps back into cover… and waits.


"You have a lot of nerve, little lady, asking for that," Gaijin says to Gwailo. As she stands up, a good five inches shorter than Posh in height, she looks the other woman over. But before she can say anything more than that, Mister Boss is already approaching. The target is left sitting by himself, watching the entire exchange with a bastardish smirk. A moment more passes before the boss grabs Posh by the wrist, ill-intent in his rough grip. This just might be going wrong.

An exchange starts to happen between the boss and a few of his men. He's joking about something in Japanese. Judging by the sound of his voice, it's related to Posh. And it's not nice.


«Plot» Feather says, "If you wish to roll a social skill to produce a certain action, let me know."

«Plot» Posh says, "Which wrist is he grabbing?"

«Plot» Feather says, "Left."

«Plot» Posh says, "Okay. How about Intelligence, TN 8, to feel through the realskinn?"
«Plot» Posh says, "Its Conceal is 8."

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls Intelligence:
1 3 8

«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Etiquette + 2:
1 2 3 3 4 4 5 5


Posh gives a smile, trailing her hand along the shoulder. She's been in such a rough situation before, and she attempts to defuse things, reaching a hand up to trail a finger along his shoulder. "But," she says, glancing over at the tall woman, trigging on her reflexes as she realizes that this just might go wrong. "I think we got off on the wrong foot. Let's just get somewhere an…" The words sound a little clunky, stilted to her, and the clincher is when he grabs…the wrong wrist all of a sudden. Used to a little more respect for the person of a woman, to be roughly grabbed on her realskinn lets him feel that her bones do not grate a little painfully like he indendts, but rather only sinks softly and then releases. And her eyes narrow. "Die, you fucking bastard," she says. And her built-in arm mounted shock capacitors flare off.


«Plot» Posh grins. "Since he did grab my wrist, I'm going to request to make him soak the 8S stun from shock hand, even before inits, but that's GM call. :D

«Plot» Feather says, "I'll allow it."

OOC Note: Boss damage resist. 8S electric. Has mystic armor 4. Half-impact is 2.
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 7 vs TN 6:
1 1 3 3 3 4 4 = 0 Successes

OOC Note: KP 1/6
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 7 vs TN 6:
1 1 1 2 3 4 4 = 0 Successes

OOC Note: KP 3/6
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 7 vs TN 6:
1 2 2 3 3 4 17 = 1 Success


«Plot» Feather says, "We're starting initiative combat. Everybody please init."

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls Initiative with a result of 26.
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Initiative with a result of 25.
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Initiative with a result of 9.
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Initiative with a result of 10.

«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls 1 for "+12 for Boulder's Init": 1
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set Boulder's init to 13.

«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls 1 for "+16 for Boulder's Init": 1
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set Bluster's init to 17.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 3: 2 2 4
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set Gaijin's init to 18.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 3: 1 3 5
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set MisterBoss's init to 19.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 2: 4 10
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set Target's init to 18.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 2: 2 3
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set AdeptSoldier's init to 13.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 1: 1
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set Soldier1's init to 5.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 1: 1
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set Soldier2's init to 5.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 1: 3
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set Soldier3's init to 7.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 1: 11
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set Soldier4's init to 10.

«Plot» Feather says, "Can you roll reaction/4, Posh?"

«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Reaction vs TN 4:
1 2 2 3 3 4 4 4 5 5 5 8 10 = 8 Successes

OOC Note: Surprise roll for generic soldiers.
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 4 vs TN 4:
1 4 5 5 = 3 Successes

OOC Note: Surprise roll for Mister Boss
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 10 vs TN 4:
1 1 1 1 2 2 2 4 4 4 = 3 Successes

OOC Note: Surprise roll for Gaijin
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 10 vs TN 4:
2 2 2 3 5 5 5 5 8 10 = 6 Successes

OOC Note: Surprise roll for Target and Adept Soldier
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 8 vs TN 4:
2 2 2 2 3 4 5 8 = 3 Successes

«Plot» Feather says, "Only Posh is in view, and nobody can attack her during the surprise phase. The elementals don't yet have commands, so they don't act."

«Plot» Feather says, "Feather will hold her action until Posh alerts her."


Posh looks up at the guy grabbing her, her shock hand activating as a powerful jolt travels up her arm and over to him. She doesn't stay at all for combat, at all, or to hang around and fight - no, she's immediately heading for the back door, activating her micro-trans. "I'm blown, but I've laid eyes on him! Thank gods I was disguised. Attack, let's take him out! Does someone have my guns?"


Feather has seen what she needs to see, what she was hoping for. She knew it would come to blood; it always does with fools like the Yakuza. She reaches her right hand over, tapping a button on the inside of her left sleeve, disappearing from view as her ruthenium engages. First her suit, then her helmet, then her weapon case. And then she slams another hand into the underside of her weapon case, one of the quick release panels falling away and releasing her sword. She doesn't seem to have anything to say as she brings it to bear, sprinting forward and finding a locked door. Luckily, the glass isn't reinforced, and it crumbles quickly as she slams the hilt of her sword into it. It's enough of an opening to get through.


As Posh begins to sprint out of the room, the boss momentarily falls to the floor on his knees, screaming in pain. Unarmored and unaware, Posh's surprise "attack" has hurt him quite a bit. As it happens, the rest of the soldiers begin to stand, some of them scrambling somewhere, presumably toward their weapons, but they're too slow to have any real response to Posh's actions.


«Plot» Feather says, "I'll assume the elementals held their actions until you gave them orders, so I'll let them act on this pass, after you."

«Plot» Lost will tell Bluster to yank the wires on the power box and Boulder to charge in through the back door and be a nice rocky bullet sponge.
«Plot» Lost says, "Or, you know, sword stroke sponge… whatever. XD"


«Plot» Posh says, "Are any guns visible?"
«Plot» Posh says, "Or edged weapons?"

«Plot» Feather says, "You didn't get a good luck, but it looks like you caught them with their pants down. A few of them had their jackets hung up in the corners of the room, so they might have pistols or small weapons in those."

«Plot» Posh says, "I'll try to grab a jacket on the way out if I still have actions I can take and stuff."
«Plot» Posh says, "And just put it on, I need the armor. XD"

«Plot» Feather says, "Very well. You find yourself in possession of an armor jacket and a Browning Ultra-Power, Posh"
«Plot» Feather says, "At the start of the next pass, that is. You'll only have a simple action, since you picked up something up."


As the signal comes in from Posh, Lost starts giving orders to her elementals, instructing Bluster to yank the wires on the power box and Boulder to charge in and draw some attention away from Posh. « Gonna cut the power, that should make it easier for you to get out » She states simply over comms, « Gonna make it harder to ID the target, though… » She admits, as if the thought had just struck her.


When Feather hits the door, all thoughts of conspiracy suddenly flee from the Turk's damaged mind; A sudden, crystal clarity. As if he'd done this before! It's a music he knows as he shifts forward, leaning from the doorway with his silenced predator; Aiming AROUND Feather, hunting targets, his natural dwarven sight a match for any darkness filled with living creatures!


«Plot» Feather says, "Posh passed through two doors. One was just smashed in by Feather. A second door, leading to the main room, is still closed. You can advance up to it and open it, if you want."

«Plot» Feather says, "And remember that most combat flashlights, eye lights included, are highly-focused light. It prevents it from being obvious where you are, unless somebody is looking straight at you, but it's hard for you to spot people, by the same token. It's not a broad beam. You'd have to slowly pan around to really see things."


«Breeching front door.» Comes the quiet comm from the Turk, as he holds position.


«Plot» Feather says, "So your action, Posh. Keep in mind that surprise actions are over. People _can_ act against you this pass. You have an armor jacket and a browning ultra-power in your hands, and one simple action to use."


Posh immediately drops the jacket and pulls the pistol up to a ready mode in her meat hand, her shock hand held up in a clenched fist, in case anyone rolls up on her, and she immediately heads back towards where the targets were. «Lights out. Have advantage. Trying to elimate the target. In the main room, target is located in the sooutheast corner.» Her face grim, she's no longer attempting to be the face - and this is wetwork. Her pulse slows, as she sniffs death in the air - Posh has switched over to termination now.
But she finds nothing. «Shit. Target gone. Looking for him.» As everyone's scramgling around in the dark, Posh checks with her low-light eye with self illumination systems, invisible to anyone without low-light vision themselves, looking for a second pistol to add to her first, as well as for the target. "Keep the entrances blocked. He can't get away. He might try to book it. Be ready. I'll try to play hound to the hunters."


Out of the darkness comes a now very angry Yakuza boss. He's in no condition to fight, but he's fighting anyway. Oh. Where did he get that knife? Wild slashes at Posh follow. As she turns to face him, she can see the light of her eye lights reflecting off the matte surface of his blade. Is that dikote?


OOC Note: Blind-Fighting Power reduces Blind Fighting to +4. +3 Wound Modifier. Close Combat negates Katana reach.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 + Combat Pool: 5 vs TN 11 for "Yakuza boss edged weapons attack against Posh.":
1 2 2 2 3 3 3 4 5 8 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 + Combat Pool: 5 vs TN 11 for "Yakuza boss edged weapons attack against Posh. ~KP 4/6":
1 1 1 2 2 3 4 4 4 9 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 + Combat Pool: 5 vs TN 11 for "Yakuza boss edged weapons attack against Posh. ~KP 6/6":
1 1 1 1 3 3 3 4 4 11 = 1 Success


«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Pentjak-Silat vs TN 6 for "Counter":
2 2 2 4 8 11 = 2 Successes
«Plot» Posh says, "Included +2 mod for low-light with eyelights."
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Pentjak-Silat - 2 vs TN 6 for "Counter karma 5 spent, stay down":
3 3 4 4 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Pentjak-Silat - 2 vs TN 6 for "Counter karma 7 spent, stay down":
1 2 2 3 = 0 Successes


«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 7 vs TN 6 for "Yakuza boss damage soak. 8 str + 2 bone lacing - 4 mystic armor.":
1 2 2 3 5 10 10 = 2 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 7 vs TN 6 for "Yakuza boss damage stun soak. 8 - 2 (half of 4 mystic armor)":
1 1 2 4 5 8 15 = 2 Successes

OOC Note: The Yakuza boss takes an additional L stun and M stun and goes down.


The Yakuza boss comes at Posh with a wild set of knife attacks, but lightning seems willing to strike twice as Posh manages to counterattack in the darkness. A second distinctive scream of pain as his body seizes up under the shock and then crumples to the ground.


Posh feels before she sees a whish come out of the air, and then she sidesteps and suddenly launches her elbow, followed up with the shockfist zapping again. "I told you I didn't fucking want it!" she finds herself shouting out," suddenly, backing up her earlier protest with a shocking rebuke, before she begins to hunt around for the target with her pistol. She's got no real idea for how to find this guy, other than to match faces - it was either the microtrans or the flashlight in the body compartment, and she went for the microtrans. Relevant to know. «Need help finding the target. It's confusion in here. Their leader is down. Not dead.»


OOC Note: The group suspends here, continuing later. Abel is still absent. Posh is replaced by her placeholder object, PoshDM.


It's a mad scramble in this "massage parlor," the mix of panicked civilians, angry Yakuza soldiers scrambling for clothes and guns, and complete darkness combining to be a perfect storm of chaos.

Things went wrong when the boss here decided he want a piece of Posh, instead getting a firm grip on a violent electroshock. In the panicked brawl that followed, she dropped him. One down. Who knows how many more to go.

Meanwhile, Turk and Feather have breached the front door and entered the entrance chamber, about to storm the main room that Posh is trapped in. And from the rear, Lost elementals have busted in through the back, her earth elemental taking the lead in storming the building.

The "workers" here, though bunraku meat puppets might be a more apt description, were surprisingly calm for the first few moments. Then again, the lot of them are chipped. But now? You're starting to hear panicked screams.

And the target? Nowhere to be seen. But there are only two ways in or out of this room. Right? This should be a clean kill, though things never quite turn out how you hope they will when the Triads are involved.


OOC Note: Lost and Turk asked for Intelligence and Magic to resist Masking and Indirect Illusion "Masking".

«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) has the Attribute Intelligence with the value '6'.
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) has the Attribute Magic with the value '7'.
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) has the Attribute Intelligence with the value '6'.
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) has the Attribute Magic with the value '0'.
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) has the Attribute Intelligence with the value '6' (only to Lyra and Feather).


And the mysterious girl who was sitting alongside the target when Posh laid eyes on him? The only other Gaijin in the room? Well, she's gone too. Mostly. Nothing's quite clear in here right now, but out of the darkness from behind Posh comes a little more fun with murderous intent. This time, though, the match-up is a bit more even.


«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 8 + Combat Pool: 8 vs TN 4 for "Miss Gaijin Clubs vs Posh":
1 1 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 2 3 3 4 5 5 = 3 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 8 + Combat Pool: 8 - 3 vs TN 4 for "Miss Gaijin Clubs vs Posh KP (1 used)":
1 1 3 3 3 4 4 4 5 5 5 9 9 = 8 Successes


«Auto-Judge[]» PoshDM (#12424) rolls 5 vs TN 5 for "Pentjak dodge":
1 3 3 4 5 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» PoshDM (#12424) rolls 5 vs TN 5 for "dodging":
1 2 3 3 8 = 1 Success

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 8 vs TN 12 (to no one) for "Posh Soak":
1 4 4 5 5 7 8 11 = 0 Successes
OOC Note: Posh has no Karma remaining, and she takes Deadly stun damage.

«Plot» PoshDM says, "informed of results by GM, posing."

OOC Note: The target Posh is fighting in melee is a future recurring antagonist, and this plot was designed partially to introduce her. She's a shapeshifter and highly-initiated Magical Adept, with numerous disguise powers. She uses them in conjunction with both the Masking spell and Masking metamagic technique. She has her own agenda and has no actual loyalty to the Yakuza. Having knocked-out Posh, and realizing that she's surrounded and potentially outnumbered, she decides to adopt Posh's appearance and emulate her voice.

OOC Note: Rather than play this NPC myself, I asked Posh to pose for her, to avoid locking her out of the remainder of the plot. I also figured she would do a better job of creating a convincing yet different not-Posh than my NPC would. I paged her suggestions, but I left discretion for many decisions up to her.


The fucking agony! Posh shudders a little bit as she gasps, and you can hear pain over the radio. "Fuck! What was that? I…I think I took a bit of a hit, but I think I'm quite swell swell," intones a Britishism over the radio. "I still can't find him."


The target, meanwhile, is skulking off somewhere in the darkness, hoping to find a gun, a knife, anything. Things are looking really bad. And where's that bitch that was supposed to be helping him?


Being made of air has its advantages, as Bluster streaks forth at Lost's bidding, searching out the enemy wherever they might be. Though the swirling wisp of an elemental might not be a particularly fearsome thing, even for a mundane to come across, he, for his part, nevertheless seems undeterred as he whooshes in. Though who can say what spirits think.


Somebody, though? Somebody really wants to get out of here. Remember how I was saying two doors? Well, when you're an adept whose fists have the toughness of steel, with enough kinetic force to make you little Mister Bulldozer, you make your own doors. And that's just what happens. The guy who wasn't particularly impressed by Posh's charms? Who wanted nothing to do with the nonsense in this room? He still doesn't.

And that's when the cheap wall separating this room from the outside world comes down, and a large-framed human man bounds through the opening, his girlfriend slung over his shoulder. Half of the girls' chips are frying themselves as they panic. Not a surprise a few of them have gone down.


«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 1 for "1=Soldier1, 2=Soldier2, 3=Soldier3, 4=Soldier4, 5=Target, 6=Reroll":
5
OOC Notes: Randomly determining which enemy is closest to Boulder. Lost lucks out before he can make a break for the opening.

«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls 2 + 2 vs TN 3 for "Boulder's Reaction + CP 2/6":
2 2 4 5 = 2 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 vs TN 8 for "Caught unaware with a gun in his hands, forced to use clubs, defaulting to strength":
2 3 4 5 13 = 1 Success

OOC Note: The soak roll got lost in the log, but he failed to generate any successes and took an S physical wound. Given the elemental's orders, I chose to treat this as a crippling attack.


Moving at a pace that would befit an elemental of earth, Boulder trudges into the massage parlour, a much more imposing force than the relatively innocuous air elemental. In a stroke of sheer luck, as he rumbles into the room where the darkened melee is taking place, he finds himself with the target at his feet. Raising one stony leg, he stomps down hard on the target's own legs, crushing them painfully underneath with, quite frankly, a stone-cold expression. Shouldn't be hard to find the target now, since he's screaming in agony.


Feather hears things go from bad to worse, and frankly, she has had enough of patience and subtlety. She waves Turk to the side momentarily, giving herself enough room to lean back and kick the door clean down in a single stroke. And then she's in, leaving Turk behind her with a simple «I'm in.» on comms.


«Tracker» Feather has set wiped the Initiative data. A new pass can now be entered.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls Initiative with a result of 24.
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Initiative with a result of 7.
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Initiative with a result of 11.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 3 for "Posh": 1 1 5
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set Posh's init to 17.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 1: 3
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set Soldier1's init to 7.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 1: 1
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set Soldier2's init to 5.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 1: 4
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set Soldier3's init to 9.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 1: 4
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set Soldier4's init to 8.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 1: 3
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set Soldier5's init to 7.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 1: 3
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set Soldier6's init to 7.

«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls 1 for "+16 for Bluster's Init": 5
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set Bluster's init to 21.

«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls 1 for "+12 for Boulder's Init": 1
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set Boulder's init to 13.


The chaos only seems to be getting worse, but at the very least, there's more light now. By now, there are two rampaging elementals in the room, along with a very angry invisible girl with a very large visible blade. Around them are a host of Triad soldiers, though the strongest of them seem to have been brought down, and a number of panicking girls. Two or three of them have already clambered past Turk, heading for the door. The response times in this part of town may suck, but even so, the cat's now out of the bag, and time is not on your side.

The target is still on the floor, screaming for help that isn't coming.

But Lost suddenly has two problems of her own. Those "private" rooms her elementals just ran past? Looks like two baddies just popped out from two of the previously-closed doors. And Lost? She's the first thing they see.


OOC Note: Visibility modifiers negated by low-light flashlight and natural low-light. Base damage 11D
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls Pole Arms/Staves (Miao Dao) + 1 (Weapon Focus) vs TN 2:
1 1 2 3 3 7 9 13 = 6 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 4 + Combat Pool: 4 vs TN 6 for "Soldier 1 Edged Weapons vs Feather":
1 3 3 4 4 5 11 17 = 2 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 4 + Combat Pool: 4 - 2 vs TN 6 for "Soldier 1 Edged Weapons vs Feather KP 1/2":
1 2 3 5 8 8 = 2 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 + Combat Pool: 1 vs TN 9 for "Soldier 1 Soak":
2 2 3 3 4 8 = 0 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 + Combat Pool: 1 vs TN 9 for "Soldier 1 Soak KP 2/2":
3 4 4 4 5 8 = 0 Successes


Between the dim light now barely illuminating the room, her elven eyes, and the low-light flashlight built into her helmet, Feather can now see well enough to find a target. And when she does, the sight Turk sees from the doorway isn't pretty. Without hesitating, she cuts him down, a brief back and forth between finely-crafted blades which ends in the Chinese girl's favor. So much for survivors.


OOC Note: I supplied Posh with the NPC's stats for certain rolls

«Auto-Judge[]» PoshDM (#12424) rolls 7 vs TN 4 for "Pistol, first target, wish I had a second gun":
1 1 2 3 3 5 7 = 2 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» PoshDM (#12424) rolls 7 - 2 vs TN 4 for "Pistol, first target, wish I had a second gun karma":
1 1 1 3 5 = 1 Success

«Auto-Judge[]» PoshDM (#12424) rolls 7 - 2 vs TN 6 for "Pistol, second target, wish I had a second gun":
1 3 4 5 5 = 0 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» PoshDM (#12424) rolls 7 - 2 vs TN 6 for "Pistol, second target, wish I had a second gun karma 1":
2 2 3 3 10 = 1 Success

«Auto-Judge[]» PoshDM (#12424) rolls 7 - 1 vs TN 6 for "Pistol, second target, wish I had a second gun karma 1":
1 3 3 4 4 10 = 1 Success

«Plot» PoshDM says, "Stand"
«Plot» PoshDM says, "3, then 2 successes."

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 + Combat Pool: 5 vs TN 4 for "Soldier2 soaking Heavy Pistol Shot, armor jacket":
1 1 3 3 4 5 5 5 5 10 = 6 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 + Combat Pool: 5 - 6 vs TN 4 for "Soldier2 soaking Heavy Pistol Shot, armor jacket KP 1/2":
1 3 3 4 = 1 Success

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 + Combat Pool: 5 vs TN 4 for "Soldier3 soaking Heavy Pistol Shot, armor jacket":
1 1 1 2 2 3 3 4 5 7 = 3 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 + Combat Pool: 5 vs TN 4 for "Soldier3 soaking Heavy Pistol Shot, armor jacket KP 1/2":
2 2 2 2 3 3 4 5 10 11 = 4 Successes

OOC Note: Both fully soaked the shots at them


Posh drops down to one knee quickly and brings up her second hand to brace her shot, opening up with her pistol to try to weaken each of the enemies approaching, forcing them to step to the side as her on target shots dig into their armored jackets, causing minor wounds to one of them.

«Plot» Feather says, "Minor correction, both of them are unwounded."


«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Pistols + Combat Pool: 4 vs TN 4 for "Silenced Predator-II, Smartlink-2":
1 2 3 5 5 7 7 10 11 = 6 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Pistols + Combat Pool: 3 vs TN 7 for "Silenced Predator II, second shot, +1 recoil, swapping targets +2":
2 3 3 3 4 5 8 11 = 2 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls 6 vs TN 7 for "KP 2/3 - SAme thing.":
1 2 3 3 4 5 = 0 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 vs TN 4 for "Soldier2 Soak":
1 2 3 5 5 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 - 2 vs TN 4 for "Soldier2 Soak KP2/2":
2 2 3 = 0 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 vs TN 4 for "Soldier3 Soak":
1 2 3 3 13 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 vs TN 4 for "Soldier3 Soak KP 2/2":
3 4 4 13 16 = 4 Successes

«Plot» Feather says, "Deadly damage, Soldier 2. L wound, Soldier 3."


The 10K Merc shifts into position, his head ringing crystal clear for the first time in a while. The storm'll be back, of course; All the confusing swirl of thoughts, conflicting datapoints. But for just a moment, Turk is clear headed. And his hand is steady.
The back of the first soldier's head crumples in as bone and flesh meld around the speeding lead.
The gun shifts, minutely, but the second shot isn't nearly as clean, piercing armor but only nicking flesh.
Commlink-Plan 9> Turk sends, « Boogie down. »


OOC Note: I forgot to init Lost's elementals at the appropriate time. So I let her use both of her elemental's actions here.

«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls 8 for "Boulder's attack vs. 1 soldier, 8S.":
1 2 3 3 4 5 5 10
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls 4 for "Boulder's attack vs 1 soldier, 8S +1 reach":
2 3 5 7

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 4 + Combat Pool: 4 vs TN 4 for "Soldier 5 Counterattack":
1 1 3 4 4 4 8 9 = 5 Successes
OOC Note: I forgot to include vis modifiers, which would've raised TN to 5, which is why …
«Plot» Feather says, "Actually 2 successes on that counterattack, so Boulder's attack goes through."

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 + Combat Pool: 1 vs TN 5 for "Soldier 5 Resist 8S Melee":
1 1 3 4 4 5 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 + Combat Pool: 1 - 1 vs TN 5 for "Soldier 5 Resist 8S Melee KP 1/2":
1 3 3 4 5 = 1 Success

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 vs TN 4 for "Soldier 6 Breath Resist":
1 1 2 2 4 = 1 Success

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 - 1 vs TN 4 for "Soldier 6 Breath Resist KP 1/2":
1 1 2 2 = 0 Successes

«Plot» Feather says, "Soldier6 S stun, Soldier5 M physical"


With the target at least incapacitated and now yowling miserably, the elementals finish the job of scouting, and withdraw out toward the back to guard Lost. On their way, they run into the backs of a couple of katana-wielding Yakuza, and get right into the thick of things, making sure neither of those katana blades can be brought to bear on the glowing elf. Bluster swirls right up into the face of one, letting out a belch of acrid smoke that leaves that make coughing and gagging tearfully. Boulder, on the other hand, provides more brute force, driving one of his big, stony appendages right into the knees of the second man. Perhaps no bones are shattered, but there will certainly be an ugly bruise if nothing else.


«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 4 vs TN 5 for "Soldier 3 melee attack vs Posh. CP burned, -1 reach, +1 half min light + nat low-light, +1 l wound":
3 4 4 7 = 1 Success

«Auto-Judge[]» PoshDM (#12424) rolls 7 + 1 vs TN 5 for "counter":
1 4 4 4 4 5 5 7 = 3 Successes

OOC Note: Soak 12S Stun.
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 vs TN 9:
1 1 4 4 5 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 vs TN 9 for "KP 2/2":
1 1 5 5 11 = 1 Success


OOC Note: The NPC's, unaware that the real Posh is gone, attack the woman they believe brought their boss down.

Posh manages to hop back, trying to stay out of the way of the man assaulting her with a katana. She viciously brings her foot around in a roundhouse kick to the man's face. "You'll not try that again, you scoundrel!"


OOC Note: Melee attack against Feather.
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 4 + Combat Pool: 4 vs TN 5:
1 2 2 4 4 4 5 7 = 2 Successes

OOC Note: Motion Sense test
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls Magic vs TN 4:
1 4 4 5 10 13 = 5 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls Pole Arms/Staves (Miao Dao) + 1 (Weapon Focus) vs TN 2:
2 3 4 5 5 7 10 14 = 8 Successes

OOC Note: Soaking counterattack
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 + Combat Pool: 1 vs TN 11:
1 2 3 3 4 7 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 + Combat Pool: 1 vs TN 11 for "KP 1/2":
2 2 2 5 8 20 = 1 Success


The target is still lying on the ground, screaming in agony.

Meanwhile, the last of the Yakuza soldiers in the room swings out from around one of the columns, attacking with a katana. It's not quite clear how Feather sees it coming, her motorcycle helmet still snug on her head, but she does, a single quick parry and a brutal slash across his chest dropping the ganger.


Lost might be all glowing with armor and everything, but she still doesn't fancy tangling with /one/ dude with a katana, nevermind two. So she books it, leaving it to Boulder and Bluster to keep her from being pursued, back toward the relative safety of the front of the building trying to regroup with Turk. « Two just rushed out the back » She says over comms, calmly.


OOC Note: The two soldiers near Lost gang up on Boulder
OOC Note: Soldier5 attack
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 4 vs TN 5:
2 3 4 4 = 0 Successes
OOC Note: KP 1/2
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 4 vs TN 5:
1 2 2 4 = 0 Successes

OOC Note: Soldier6 attack
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 4 vs TN 6:
1 3 3 4 = 0 Successes
OOC Note: KP 1/2
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 4 vs TN 6:
2 3 5 11 = 1 Success

«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls 2 + 2 vs TN 5 for "Boulder's counter":
1 1 2 8 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls 2 + 2 vs TN 5 for "Boulder's counter number two.":
2 3 3 4 = 0 Successes

OOC Note: Soldier5 soaking 8S damage.
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 vs TN 5:
1 1 1 5 5 = 2 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls 8 vs TN 4 for "Boulder has 8 armor due to immunity to normal attacks, needs 6 suxx.":
3 3 3 4 5 7 8 8 = 5 Successes


Since a swirling mist doesn't exactly present much of a target, the two soldiers instead decide to team up on poor Boulder. One gets pretty firmly smacked in the face for his trouble by a hard, rocky mitt, while the other manages to wedge his blade near the 'shoulder' of what passes as Boulder's arm. The earth elemental roars in fury, glowering at the katana wielding thug with his cold, stony eyes, standing his ground against the dual onslaught.


Feather stops, a pair of bodies now emptying their blood content on the floor around her. And then she sees the target, tilting her head slightly. He's not doing so well, pretty close to passing out from shock. And as the few remaining soldiers are tied up in losing melee engagements, she calmly slides her sword back into its weapon case, a hinged panel accepting its entry, before tapping another quick-release compartment. A bow? How many weapons does this lunatic carry?


«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 vs TN 4:
3 4 4 4 5 = 4 Successes
OOC Note: Soldier 6 Resisting Noxious Breath Again. Takes L stun.

«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls 2 for "Boulder's attack, 8S +1 Reach.":
3 4

OOC Note: Counterattack
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 4 vs TN 7:
1 3 3 5 = 0 Successes


Boulder apparently doesn't like it when people wield swords in his general direction. So he gathers up one of the offending soldiers, slams him to the ground, and then stomps on him for good measure. Hard. After Bluster finishes hacking out another cloud of noxious, choking fumes, though the other soldier somehow manages to stay on his feet, the stony elemental subtly inclines his head down to the fallen soldier, then back up to the one who still stands, glaring at him as well as a vaguely humanoid bundle of rocks can manage.


«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Pistols vs TN 4 for "9M Pred-II, smartlink-2, CP exhausted":
1 2 2 2 4 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Pistols vs TN 5 for "9M Pred-II, same as above, second shot":
3 4 4 5 8 = 2 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 vs TN 4:
3 4 4 5 9 = 4 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 vs TN 4:
1 3 4 5 8 = 3 Successes

OOC Note: Soaking. 1 physical M wound.


The Turk's hand suddenly wavers as all the little tics and clicks come crashing back into his maladjusted gears. Did he use silver bullets? Will that stop wendigoes, such as these triad thugs? Maybe he should use many, many bullets to slow it down.
Bam. Bam bam bam bam bam-
He keeps pulling the trigger. There's no smile, only a strange, tight lipped stare as the thug jumps to the tune of high-speed organ impact.


OOC Note: Quickdrawing two arrows using adept Quick Draw Power.
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls Reaction vs TN 4:
1 2 2 2 2 3 4 4 9 = 3 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls Reaction vs TN 4:
2 3 3 4 4 5 5 8 10 = 6 Successes

OOC Note: Firing at remaining two soldiers.
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls Projectile Weapons (Bows) vs TN 3:
1 2 3 4 5 8 9 = 5 Successes
OOC Note: This roll should have been TN 5, so actually 5 successes.
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls Projectile Weapons (Bows) vs TN 3:
1 3 7 7 8 9 9 = 6 Successes

OOC: Soaking 12D damage from remaining two soldiers.
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 vs TN 12:
1 3 3 5 8 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 vs TN 12:
1 2 2 4 8 = 0 Successes


Somewhere in the darkness, Feather is working her magic, quite literally. Turk can see her thermal outline in the darkness, but her "visible" form is highly-obscured by the ruth suit she's wearing. But one can see the arrows as they're produced from somewhere, and hear a sickening liquidy splatter as explosive arrowheads detonate against flesh. The two targets are already nearly down, but Feather finishes them, including the poor, groggy bastard who would have been merely rendered unconscious by Bluster, had he been down when Feather looked his way.

And then all is quiet. There are two bodies in the hallway leading to the back door, and four more bodies in here. For a job which prioritized only one target, this one sure had quite the body count. And exposure. By now, most of the girls who were in their senses have run out into the streets, and those that aren't, due either to personafix chips or drug-use, are slumped in the corners of the room, trying to pretend this isn't happening. There are three lucky Yak soldiers, in fact, passed out in some of the private rooms, a bit too much novacoke during the party. Though when their bosses find out that bit … they'll be one finger shorter, if they're lucky.

And then there's the target. He's quiet now. Shock has set in. He'll probably die, but if medical help gets here within the next ten minutes, he just might pull through. Looks like somebody needs to finish it.


«Plot» Feather says, "Assuming nobody feels a compelling need to search every room, combat is over."


Posh's eyes narrow a little bit as she looks at the target, but then she turns to the rest of the crew. "None of you have to watch this," she says, before she turns back to the target, focusing the laser sight of the Ultra-Power between his eyes.

Posh is a crack shot with a pistol, and here her twist holdes true, a pair of shots traveling in the direction of the target. The heavy slugs of the FN pistol should finish the job. She smiles. "Mmmm. Not bad. Might switch to this one." She looks to the rest of the group once her dirty task is finished. "Well. Shall we be off, then, chums?" she asks, giving a big, blowsy sigh.


The Turk doesn't turn away; Not when he's waiting to make sure the vampire head dies. And doesn't morph into anything. When it appears the 'boss vamp' is down for good, he murmurs "Vampirlere olum." In that odd little accent of his. The shortstack then reloads, tucking the empty magazine into a pocket as he goes begins toeing the man's jacket open. Looking for signs of shapeshifting secondary arms or fins!


«Plot» Feather says, "Assuming nobody else has business in here, I'm going to assume the group runs the Hell away to regroup before the cops get here."


OOC Note: TN 10 roll to notice something is wrong with "Posh" at the safehouse.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 6 (to Lyra) for "Lost Perception":
1 2 2 5 5 10
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 6 (to Lyra) for "Turk Perception":
1 2 4 4 4 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 3 (to Lyra) for "Feather Perception":
2 3 3


Posh gives a quick smile to the rest of the others, slipping the jacket on and putting the pistol in the coat. "Whew," she says. "Well, I suppose I'd best be going. After all, nothing like getting paid, what what?" she asks. "Mmm. Have to visit the gunsmith, have this rebarreled if I'd like to keep this thing." She glances off to the others. "Pardon me, but should we all be getting out of here? If we've had to kill some Yakuza rather obviously, we should at least get our nuyen for it.


And that seems to be that. It might not speak very well for the humanity of this group, but there seemed to be no shortage of people willing to pull the trigger on this one. Turk and Feather were ambling in that direction, but Posh? She seemed to waste no time in ending the target. She's just efficient like that, it seems.

And not much more thought is given, the adrenaline still pumping as the group beats feet. Yes, it's a D-zone. But a thirty minute response time is still a response time, and with the job done, they're going to do their best to get the Hell out of there before the local apathetic rentacops show up to pretend to care about dead Yaks. Feather does her Feather thing. She whistles in the form of an encrypted radio transmission, and her loyal steed, a souped-up Suzuki Nuda R750 shows up. This time? It seems Posh wants a ride, handing her Land Rover's passkey over to Lost. Feather's response isn't clear, hidden behind her tinted visor, but she eventually responds with a simple, "Get on, gwailo."

Abel rendezvous back with the group at the car, and the three remaining team members leave together. But he has business with his brother, it seems, and so the runners drop him off before they reach the final rally point: a safehouse near the alley where this all started.

You see Feather's bike out front, and Posh is waiting for you when you get there. Feather's weapon case is leaning against a wall, her blade lying on a table for cleaning.


To (Lost, Lyra), Feather pages: Now that you finally see it up close, you realize that Feather has a very nice sword. It looks like a finely-crafted weapon focus. It has the typical orange glint of alloyed orichalcum.


Posh laughs and shakes her head as Feather calls her gwailo. "Yes, yes, I'm hurrying, I'm just being slowed by a bit of a slope," she says, with a grin. "Get it?" She hops her way into the car and keeps mostly silent after that one through the rest of the ride to the safehouse, getting out and glancing around at the others. "Well, I didn't hear any sirens, and that's a damn good thing, for sure." She smiles. "So what now? The usual?"


Not being much of a driver, Lost leaves it to the AutoNav to take Turk and herself safely over to the safehouse. Once it's parked, she pockets the key and locks the Land Rover once Turk has made his way out, walking cautiously into the safehouse. When she sees the sword on the table, she can't help but be drawn to it. Able to recognize orichalcum at a glance, she gazes at the sword appreciatively. "It's beautiful…" She muses softly. As Posh speaks, Lost turns toward her with a smile, shrugging, "Dunno. But seems like things went pretty well. No one got hurt, right?" She asks, tilting her head as she looks at the rest of the group, just to make sure.


The Turk is unusually quiet on the ride to the safehouse, quietly dismantling the silencer from his predator and tucking it away. Just occasionally squinting out the car, the halfer seeming rather - calm.
Of course, this was all just a UV-server designed to make him drop his guard. Oh, but he knows. A glance towards Lost only confirms his suspicions; She's using high-energy zero-point constructs to mimic 'spirits' and 'magic'. He's on to you. Don't think he isn't. But play it cool, don't let them know how you know about what they know about you.
Play it cool.
He carries the bag with his deck and EQ into the safehouse, glancing up at the people. Yes, he's short. Yes, he gets it a lot. But, you gotta admit, you get a good view of people from down here.
"We get paid, we go home. Seems straight forward enough." He pauses, and squints quietly. ".. If you live on the material plane." He murmurs.


The group is mostly here. 60% of it, anyway. Abel is off with his brother, and Feather is probably around here somewhere.


Posh peers at Turk. "If you…what are you on about?" she asks, glancing over to Lost, with a smile. "Do you have any idea at all what he's on about?" she asks. "I haven't been able to figure out the first thing since before I met him," she says. "Well," she says. "I suppose we'd better drop any weapons we have with us back at the stash, once the…heat dies down, right?" she asks.


To (Lost, Lyra), Feather pages: You don't think Turk has noticed anything, but something seems odd about Posh. You've interacted with her a fair amount. Now that you're standing near her in a well-lit room in a calm situation, she seems shorter. You could swear she was around 6', but this woman is closer to 5'6". But maybe you're just remembering things wrong?


As Turk levels an odd glance on her, Lost just sort of blinks at the dwarf before smiling at him, as if reflexively. Looking to Posh, she shrugs, "Nope. No idea. But you're the one who called him in. So… I'll just assume it's nothing I should be concerned about…" Pausing, she blinks again, narrowing her eyes a bit at Posh, seemingly unsure of something. "Posh, this might sound like a strange question, but did you get shorter?"


"Well, you know, I'm always sneaking into places," admits Posh. "And trying to pretend to be people I'm not. So I figured if I was six proper feet then I might be too…memorable." She sets a hand on her hip and arches an eyebrow. "After all, I'm quite…memorable, as you can tell, already," she says. "Anyway, I had a …phenotype mod in with my last set," she explains. "It must have just recently become a little more noticeable."


"Did they put anything else in during your phenotype?"
Asks the halfling, moving himself to some place inconspicuous. Where he can listen to the FAKE CONVERSATION as these two try to read his mind. OH, but he's not fool. He never keeps his thoughts organized for more than thirty seconds to prevent just such a thing. He tries to get up onto a seat.
He tries again.
Third time's the charm. Stupid short legs. And he frowns, tugging on his beard. "I need to get back. There are .. -things- I need to look into. What's our pickup on payment?"


Lost eyes Posh suspiciously, but without anything concrete to point out, she doesn't seem like she has any intention of arguing, "I didn't even know that was possible…" She muses instead, "Making someone shrink seems like it might violate some laws of physics or something…" Shrugging, the dark-haired elf grins broadly, "But what do I know about physics?"


To (Lost, Lyra), Feather pages: Now that you're talking to her more, her voice seems a little off too.


To (Turk, Lyra), Feather pages: Do you have any conspiracy theory knowskills?
To (Turk, Lyra), Feather pages: Roll them please.

«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Conspiracy Theories:
1 3 4 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Fringe Cults:
1
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Corporate Rumors:
1 17
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Street Rumors:
4 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Matrix Rumors:
5 22
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Shadowscene Players:
1 5 7


OOC Note: Trying to give a conspiracy theory-tinged view of shapeshifters, filled with half-truths and distortions.

To (Turk, Lyra), Feather pages: You're not sure exactly what Lost is talking about. But you do know about seventy different relevant conspiracy theories, things that no sane person would know about. For example, you remember this story that circulated around the Trix. A girl, around 5'5", who had some unseen agenda! A doppelganger! There was something about Atlanteans and the Illuminati, too! But you know that most doppelgangers are both fascinated by and terrified of weapon foci. They're the sixth world equivalent of "silver" weapons.


Posh glances back to Lost. "The laws of physics, perhaps, but not of medicine, my dear," she says, quite expansively, and then smiles to Turk. "And of course, we've got to go pick it up from that Mafia guy who sent us on the job. Did you catch if he was Succreasi or Luccesi?" she asks.


From afar, to (Feather, Lyra): Lost is suspicious enough now to assense 'Posh'.
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Intelligence for "Assensing 'Posh'":
3 3 3 4 5 7
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Aura Reading for "Assensing 'Posh'":
1 3 4
OOC Note: Another failed masking roll. Both Abel and Lost failed a masking roll earlier during their astral recon.
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 7 vs TN 12 (to Lyra):
2 2 3 3 3 4 10 = 0 Successes
To (Lost, Lyra), Feather pages: You see the aura of a perfectly normal mundane human woman.
«Plot» Feather says, "Roll perception"
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Intelligence:
3 4 4 5 5 5
To (Lost, Lyra), Feather pages: But now that you're looking out for oddities, you also realize that this is aura is /perfectly/ normal. You don't even see any ware.


The facade seems to crack. To Lost, at least. Finally, she shakes her head and looks straight at Posh, "Nice try, but you're not Posh." She purses her lips to the side, eyeing 'Posh', as if trying to find a reference to her height. "So then, the question is, who exactly are you?" She glances at Turk, then back to 'Posh', perhaps a bit anxiously.


Turk quietly watches Lost and Posh talk together, his eyes narrowing a bit more as he tugs on his beard. Datapoints; Datapoints everywhere. There were no coincidences, only evidence or omens that hadn't been catalogued yet. Five five, enjoyed the appearance of a weapon foci. Finally, he smirks.
"Changling." He states, quite calmly.


«Plot» Feather says, "Initiative, please"
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Initiative with a result of 11.
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Initiative with a result of 14.
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 3:
4 9 11
«Init Tracker» Feather (#12973) has set "Posh"'s init to 26.


«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 8 vs TN 4 for "Clubs vs Turk, Pulling Punches, max 2 successes":
1 2 2 3 4 4 4 7 = 4 Successes


"All right," she says. "Very clever. Now tell me where the fuck the safehouse is, who the fuck hired you, and why the fuck you attacked us," 'Posh' snarls all of a suddenly, suddenly lashing out with her baton, not as a true assualt, but rathe contemptuously intending to inflict pain.


«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls 4 vs TN 4 for "Aikido R4":
2 3 3 4 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls 7 vs TN 4 for "Full Dodge attempt, CP:7/7":
3 3 4 4 5 5 7 = 5 Successes


Click. Maladjusted gears slide; He wasn't expecting a frontal assault. Mental, perhaps. When the baton is whirled for him, the small halfer just rolls right over the back of it, hitting the ground while the slotted skill-chip in his head takes over his instincts. The chair shatters.
Eyes narrow. "You haven't figured it out? Kabal, then." Seconds. Mere seconds.


«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Reaction vs TN 6 for "Quick draw attempt":
2 3 3 4 11 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Pistols vs TN 2 for "9M pred-II, smartlink-2":
1 2 4 5 5 = 4 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Pistols vs TN 4 for "9M Pred-II, smartlink-2, second shot":
1 1 3 4 8 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls 3 vs TN 4 for "KP 3/3 second shot":
1 4 5 = 2 Successes

OOC Note: Damage soak. Only 3 ballistic armor.
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 8 vs TN 6:
1 2 2 2 3 3 4 4 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 8 vs TN 6 for "KP Spent 2":
1 2 3 3 4 5 5 5 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 8 vs TN 6 for "KP Spent 4":
1 1 1 2 4 8 10 15 = 3 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 8 vs TN 6 for "KP Spent 7":
3 4 5 5 5 5 7 8 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 8 vs TN 6:
3 3 4 5 5 8 16 16 = 3 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 8 vs TN 6 for "KP Spent 8":
2 2 2 3 4 7 8 14 = 3 Successes


Gears grind in the head; Noisy ticks rooting in his thoughts. Gun finds its way naturally to his hand - instinct, didn't even have to think on it. Draw, point with knuckle, squeeze not pull. Things are moving too fast. What's that behind her on the wall? Shadow? Spirit? BLAM BLAM
Blood in the air.


«Plot» Feather says, "Willpower 6. BG 2. The BG count is higher here than usual."

«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Sorcery + Sorcery Pool: 3 vs TN 8 for "F6 Moderate Stunbolt":
1 1 1 1 2 2 5 5 11 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls 8 vs TN 8 for "F6 Moderate Stunbolt KP 1":
1 1 2 2 3 4 4 5 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls 8 vs TN 8 for "F6 Moderate Stunbolt KP 3":
1 2 3 3 3 4 5 5 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls 8 vs TN 8 for "F6 Moderate Stunbolt KP 7/7":
1 3 4 4 4 5 8 11 = 2 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Willpower + Sorcery Pool: 3 vs TN 6 for "Need 4 suxx.":
1 3 3 3 3 4 7 8 9 = 3 Successes
OOC Note: Light drain.

«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 vs TN 6:
1 3 5 5 16 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 5 - 1 vs TN 6 for "KP 9 Spent":
1 3 5 15 = 1 Success
OOC Note: Light stun damage taken.


«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 8 vs TN 4 for "Clubs vs Lost. Not holding back this time.":
2 3 3 4 4 5 5 5 = 5 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Combat Pool: 9 vs TN 5 for "Don't hurt me!":
1 1 1 2 2 4 5 8 11 = 3 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Body vs TN 11 for "Yup… nope.":
3 5 = 0 Successes


Posh snarls ferociously, her rather hefty form falling almost into a crouch as she assault the elf and the dwarf, loking nearly feral and ready to simply assault with her bare hands, but instead she lashes out cruelly with that baton, smashing into Losh painfully with it, a look of triumph showing on her face. Victory.


Instinctively backing away as the melee begins, and inching even further backward as Turk starts blasting away, Lost seems a bit confused by how suddenly she finds herself in combat again! Apparently she thought that was over. Still, she manages to maintain the wherewithal to toss a spell in the direction of Posh, but from the look on her face, it doesn't have nearly the effect she had hoped for. The doppleganger might feel a bit of fatigue setting in, but it's nothing compared to the world of hurt Lost finds herself in when the club impacts with her body, forcing the air from her lungs with an audible 'whuff'.


«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Pistols vs TN 2 for "9M Pred-II":
1 3 3 7 11 = 4 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Turk (#9565) rolls Pistols vs TN 4 for "9M Pred-II second shot":
1 3 3 4 4 = 2 Successes

OOC Note: Soaking each shot.
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 8 vs TN 6:
1 2 3 4 8 10 11 22 = 4 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Feather (#12973) rolls 8 vs TN 6:
1 1 2 2 3 4 4 10 = 1 Success

OOC Note: 2 more M physical wounds, total D physical damage.


The changeling turns on the female knife-ear; typical. Going after the womb. Can't let it breed. The gun barks twice more, the sound explosive in the narrow confines as he tries to keep Lost from becoming a hentai trope.
This is Turk doing that.


It's over. It started with a racial slur, and it ended with a bang. "Posh" stops being Posh the moment she goes down, two bullets slamming into her, her body slumping against the wall before slowly falling to the floor. Now she's somebody else, perhaps who she "really" is, a pale-white Russian-looking woman, about 5'6", with a build that just happens to be pretty similar to that of the now-missing Elven face. But the look on her face? It doesn't say defeat. Even in death, her blood splattered across the wall behind her, it's a smirk. In death.

The tension doesn't get a chance to fall. Somebody's at the door. A knock, then banging, then the door flies in. You're late, Feather, and it's immediately obvious why, when you look at her. Somebody did a number on her. She looks to be in even worse shape than Lost, barely managing to stagger over to the table and pick up her sword. She holds it at the ready, staring at the corpse, trembling. Little Miss Murder is afraid?

"We have to go. Now."

And for once, nobody seems in the mood to argue because everybody is staring at the body, staring as not-Posh's dead eyes slowly blink. And before not-Posh can regain her bearings, everyone grabs their gear and is out the door. The car peels away, Lost at the helm. And the biker girl is gone on her trusty steed.

In the hours that follow, you mull it over. Awakened. Regeneration. A shapeshifter? It couldn't be a coincidence, could it, that you happened to crash exactly the wrong party to run afoul of the most wrong person? Somebody, somewhere played you. And if not-Posh is, in fact, not-Posh, where the fuck is the real one?

But the credsticks clear nonetheless, after the Triads confirm that the target is dead. Another payday with a bad taste in your mouth.


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