GM: Patient
Players: Gretchen
Summary: A comedy of errors. Everything that can go wrong does. A hasty meet with a shady J turns into a club shootout at CHROME!. With the employer out of the picture due to a grudge-holding orkish luchador, Gretchen tries to wring some cred out of the situation but buys psychedelic drugs instead, and is turned away at the door when she tries to carry a small arsenal into Lyve Wyre. Frustrated, she cuts her losses and calls it a night.
There's a saying about money and blood; One's printed on the other. Of course, the saying never says which is which, and no one ever pays attention to that metaphorical bullshit anyways. What people DO pay attention too, however, is when they get that ring-a-ding. Through notes, through text, through trix or bird, through the sky or across the ground, they'll make sure you've heard - a job's available. Starting today, finishing tomorrow, quick and in a hurry. It's one of those jobs that most professionals avoid because - pfft - who wants to rush illegal things? But for someone who wants the nuyen, the thrill, or simply doesn't care anymore, the meetup is in the usual place; CHROME. Because everyone goes to CHROME, don't they? Might as well start posting officers on the inside in plain clothes to get propositioned for runs.
The usual back room has the usual bodyguard mook, scowling at the dancers and generally being a stick in the mud. And within? Well, obviously it'll have some jackass in a three piece suit and a cigar. Why the cigar? Because he can, and no one can stop him.
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Etiquette for "Finding bodyguard. Inquiring within!":
2 3 5 7
«Plot» Patient says, "Considering this a basic TN 4, because… it's not like she's asking for guns or drugs. YET."
«Plot» Patient says, "I'm also assuming by inquiring within, you mean to see if the bodyguards letting you through? Or just if the two have shown up yet?"
«Plot» Gretchen says, "If you'll allow it, I'll just head directly to the bodyguard, as if this meet was known about ahead of time, or if this simply looks like a J who might be giving out a random job to a random runner."
Gretchen tries to take advantage of times like these, evenings when there's no need to maintain the facade of a normal wageslave position, evenings when she's willing to throw caution to the wind and dare herself to get wild. Some destructive impulse drives her headlong into chaos tonight, when at other times she'd run fleeing.
Headphones around her neck, military surplus parka with leather jacket underneath, Gretchen works her way through the dance club…
Gretchen gets a look for her clothing, but - with a heaving sigh - she's pointed towards Conference 1. Where the big bald man with shades on waits. Less like a statue, and more like someone who read this is how Bodyguards are supposed to be. Big, still, and visible rather than proactively hunting out threats.
We'll call him Puddles.
Puddles frowns downwards at surplus parka, before speaking in a voice that's surprisingly high and fluffy. Damn near falsetta. Ever heard Mike Tyson? Probably why he prefers the 'strong and silent' stereotype. "Mr. Johnson's waiting for you inside. No wrong moves, or I'll twist you into a pretzel, capiche?"
«Plot» Gretchen says, "But I'll make it a point to address the guard first before just butting in on the J."
«OOC» Patient nods. Job blasted out, so it's a known meeting point.
«OOC» Patient says, "It's frightening that getting hit by that soft sounded fellow is roughly the same kinetic energy as getting in a car wreck."
Gretchen clears her throat into a balled fist rather than comment back to the guard. She may be attempting to conceal a look of surprise in doing so, or a smirk… She simply nods, face obscured by white hair that hangs from below a simple, black beanie. Over the rim of her glasses she sneaks a look at the guard just for acknowledgement, then moves for the J as she shrugs out of the parka. Without its urchin-ish appearance, what with it being a bit loose, she may appear a bit more 'runner-ish' in all black.
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Intelligence for "Let's get this particular ball rolling: Any security devices in the booth? (Comp incoming)":
1 2 3 3 3 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Stealth (Alertness) for "Comp":
1 1 3 3 4 10
«Plot» Patient says, "Standard TN 4. 1 success, and 1 success additional with comp."
Puddles works his neck to the side with the sound of plank wood snapping, then goes back to watching people boogie or dance or seize on the dance floor. One supposes it all depends on precisely who's doing the dancing.
The J, meanwhile, sits up a bit when Gretchen finally enters the room. Catching his lit cigar between fore and middle finger, flashing a mouth with too much gold in it. "Well well. 'Bout time someone showed up for my generous offer; I was starting to think Denver's shadows had gotten a little too much light." The ashes off, giving Gretchen plenty of time to look over the 'conference room'. A small and white room, with enough spaces for 8 people to sit - or 3 trolls - and 4 more to stand. Black obsidian table with a white noise generator, which the J flips on; The usual echo of an eardrum pop while the generator fills the resounding space with static. In so far as Gretchen can see, the only security in this room are the thick walls, the door lock, and Puddles; Who closes the door and locks it after Gretchen makes her way in, keeping himself on the outside.
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Paranoia for "Just cuz.":
1 3 8
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Willpower vs TN 8 for "Paranoia open as TN":
2 3 3 4 4 17 = 1 Success
«Plot» Gretchen says, "1 succ, so… managing the paranoia enough to not do something blatantly idiotic maybe? ;)"
«Plot» Patient says, "You're doing illegal things for money. We passed blatantly idiotic the moment you slipped into the shadows. :D"
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Police/Security Procedures for "How about that bodyguard, hm? That might seem a little odd.":
1 1 4
«Plot» Patient says, "Basic TN 4 again. 1 success."
«Plot» Gretchen says, "Roll re: guard not following."
… Aren't bodyguards supposed to stay -with- the client…?
Come to think of it, that -is- weird. One bodyguard who doesn't know privacy comes second to security. Not to mention the guy is really visible; Usually you only want visible when there's a second or third team doing the proactive protection. The visible guy's a distraction. And there's only Puddles. Right?
«Plot» Gretchen says, "Would the door check have confiscated say, a taser, or have found a fairly decent conceal can of pepper punch I carry? Or a switchblade?"
«Plot» Patient says, "Nah. According to CHROME's desc pistols, cyber, and melee weapons are A-OK. Anything bigger is not."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Okay, great. I thought I recalled some amount of leniency with gear there."
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Intelligence for "Memory test? Would I now start recalling any oddities before entering? D:":
2 2 3 4 4 10
«Plot» Patient says, "Nothing out of the ordinary. I mean, unless you spent a whole lot of time at CHROME. It's a lot of people looking to get trashed at the bar bots on each table and dance until they either pass out or have sex. Sometimes both, if they're unlucky in the way those two events occur. The only one who really seemed to stand out was Puddles. And that's because he wasn't drinking, flashing the pink mohawk or generally being a dancing queen."
Gretchen remains standing for the moment, parka now draped over her left arm and bag slung across her back on a single strap which happens to be a repurposed rifle sling. She scans the room and the adaptive lenses of her glasses dim ever so slightly at the change in lighting from entering this well-lit space after the main club.
The German tilts her head and raises the palm of her right hand in a slight shrug. She isn't entirely comfortable with the strangeness of the situation, but she's seen worse. She bears with it. "I… heard you might have work," she replies to the golden-grilled man, slowly, cautiously. "…let's talk."
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Gang Identification for "?":
1 3 4
«Plot» Gretchen says, "If you want to cap me on KP, feel free."
«OOC» Patient says, "Nah. KP away. Also, no identifying gang marks you can see. The guy's dressed in a three piece, tacky gold teeth and a cigar like he saw what a mob boss looks like on the trideo and decided that's the look he wants."
"You heard right, sugar lips," states Mr. GoldTooth, flashing that rich, tacky smile again. Who still does gold on the teeth? He lays out a datachip on the table, near the 2078 version of a powerpoint display. But he doesn't plug it in just yet. Rather, he sits back again, fingers steepled in front of him like some cheap trid mafioso. "I'll get you the basic details, but I'm gonna need some -commitment- before we go any further. Unless we're not talking work ethic."
Laaaazy wink.
"My boss's boss has a couple of -friends- visiting Denver. Your task is real easy; Keep one of them from catching their flight back out. That's it. No killing, no maiming, just get him to miss his flight in the morning. Simple, innit? You hit this little problem for me, and I'll see you … -fifteen thousand- richer." There's a momentary hesitation over the word 'fifteen'.
Meanwhile, the thick, nearly sound proof walls are inundated with the thump of music. Thumpa thumpa thumpa.
"Well, that's a generous offer, Mister J…" Gretchen nudges her glasses up with a knuckle of her gloved right hand. "If someone were interested in the job, what other details might they learn?" She glances at the chip, mainly just trying to keep communication happening without a firm commitment quiiiiite yet.
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Negotiation (Fast Talk) for "Convincing him that revealing more details would be in everyone's best interest?":
1 1 2 4 17
«OOC» Patient grins. +prove your int?
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) has the Attribute Intelligence with the value '6'.
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 3 vs TN 6 for "Goldtooth Doing His Best":
1 1 1 = 0 Successes
«OOC» Patient says, ".. OW."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "HOWOWOWahahahaha"
«OOC» Patient says, "I have actually never seen that."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "I was just going to say that too! I've never seen a totally botched INT roll. XD"
The J's gold smile disappears for a moment of flustering, as he shifts in his seat. ".. Uh… " He begins, lifting a finger. "Wait, what? No, I .. looks, it's good money, what.. hold on." He clears his throat, standing up from the table and moving around it. He unlocks the door, and pokes his head outside while the music thumpa-thumpa-thumpas in. One can hear the quiet murmur of Puddles and him talking, their voices garbled by the loud music. At last the door is firmly closed by Puddles, and the J walks back to his seat. Shaken, but doing his (worst) to hide it.
"Right, so. Babe. What is it you're wanting to know, huh?"
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Intelligence for "I HAVE to try to overhear that convo.":
1 2 3 4 8 10
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Nothing fancy hearing-wise. And of course trying to hear through the wng and club noise, but…"
«Plot» Patient says, "Standard TN 4, +2 for all the noise, noise, noise. Figured by the perception table that's basically 'several rooms away'. Two successes."
«Plot» Patient says, "(several rooms away worth of audial flak)"
"..nts to.. info. I don't-..!"
"What? Just.. can an.. get it done."
"-I don't .. anyways, what..-"
"-Get-. -It-. -Done-."
Gretchen's face hardens into a grim mask, eyes narrowed and lips drawn into a tight black line. She still hasn't seated herself. "I want to know why you're deferring to your "bodyguard," first of all…"
She then begins to press her free hand to the coat draped over the other forearm. "How about I grab my pocsec to check out that chip before I make any firm decisions, hm?"
Goldtooth seems to have found his balance again, tugging his air through that cigar again as he settles back. "Because he's got my pocsec and that's his job. To keep me on schedule. Listen, do you want the job or not? Because, lady, I'm not here to make friendly or soothe your bedtime. Unless you really want that."
Laaaaazy wink.
"I'm here to get a professional to get a job -done-. Fifteen kay on the barrel for the first person who steps up. That's either you, or it isn't, capiche?" He holds up his hand, showing he's not armed, then reaches into his jacket to display the credstick. Before shaking his head.
"Uh uh. Client privilege, chummer. Job details are on there; You're not on the job, you don't get the details."
And meanwhile, the music is -still- thumpa thumpa thumpa. There's a few voices raised in celebration as some DJ comes on, probably, and the music gets a bit louder. Loud enough to actually shudder the door, in fact. Yeesh. Neighbors.
Gretchen keeps at it, trying to press for more information, or at the very least, more pay before diving into something blind…
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Intelligence for "Taking an interest in local DJs recently…":
2 2 2 3 4 5
«Plot» Gretchen says, "I have an alta in a wrist snap holster (don't want to use it if I don't have to of course), but in my coat pockets I'd have some quieter options if it comes to that. I just… haven't grasped the situation fully yet, so, hm…"
«OOC» Patient plays that paranoia~
«OOC» Patient says, "Course, if they really are out to get you, it isn't paranoia. If."
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Negotiation for "15K is too low for how super shady this seems… Why does this feel /wrong/ somehow???":
2 5 8
«Plot» Patient says, "Roll me a shotgun b/r or a pistol b/r. By the KB, you also have a knowskill of any active - 3 - so you could roll that instead, if you want."
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Pistols B/R for "Let's go with this one.":
1 2 4 11
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Stealth (Alertness) for "Comp for spotting hiddens if applicable?":
1 3 3 4 5 5
«Plot» Patient says, "That thumpa thumpa thumpa that got louder? That's really, really not the bass outside the door. Also, now that you've listened for interest in DJs, the music's accompanied by a bit more dull roar of chatter than usual."
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 3 vs TN 6 for "Resist negotiations, Goldie!":
2 3 5 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 5 for "What was that?":
2 3 4 7 13
«OOC» Patient typa types.
«Plot» Gretchen says, "Theory: in the next room, shots are being fired. :/"
«Plot» Gretchen says, "Other theory: all audio in here is false."
«Plot» Patient says, "One of those theories is correct!"
«OOC» Gretchen bites lip.
The J puts a hand to his forehead dramatically, massaging his temple. "What, you want -more- money? Just like a woman. Alright, listen, I could.. -could-.. see this up to twenty five K. Alright? You've squeezed me and I didn't even get to enjoy it. Now, you-"
A pause.
".. you hear that?"
The accent is dropped quite suddenly, the J moving back around the table again to pound at the door. "Hey! Frankie! What's going on out there?"
«OOC» Gretchen says, "You know what, I spotted something about something in MitS yesterday…"
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Accent?! Wuh-oh."
«OOC» Patient says, "Go on? Something in MiTS?"
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 2 for "Things are afoot!":
3 4
«Plot» Gretchen says, "p84 MitS: Awakened characters who are not astrally active can still sense a background count upon entering an area. The gamemaster should resolve a secret Magic Test for the character against a target number of 12 minus the level of the background count. For example, an area with Background Count 3 has a Target Number of 9 to detect the background count. One success is sufficient for the character to sense the background count and its approximate level."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Would you do that secret test for me? (Magic 9)"
«OOC» Patient says, "Sure!"
«OOC» Gretchen says, "I might cast something… But I'd just like to see if I get a whiff of the BGCount first."
«OOC» Gretchen wonders aloud, "Why Pistols B/R… Whywhwywhy…"
«OOC» Patient nods. Are you supposed to get numbers or a general impression?
«OOC» Patient says, "Ah, approximate level."
«Plot» Patient says, ".. BGcount went from 1 (Standard Denver) to 2 in the immediate area."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Awesome. That's a fun mechanic (without doing anything deliberately magical)."
«Plot» Gretchen says, "I'm masked as mundane by the way."
«OOC» Patient thumbs up.
«Plot» Gretchen says, "I guess I'm just going to try to overhear Frankie (Puddles?) again? And if there's some major panic outside the room, I may just try to flee? I dunno. I'm not sure quite what I want to do because I'm at a pretty severe disadvantage here."
«OOC» Patient nods. Lack of information is a bummer.
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Intelligence for "Overhearing? (And trying to spot a potential chance to bust out when the door is opened, that's a possibility too)":
1 1 1 3 4 7
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Intelligence for "Overhearing? (And trying to spot a potential chance to bust out when the door is opened, that's a possibility too)":
1 2 2 2 3 4
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Intelligence for "Overhearing? (And trying to spot a potential chance to bust out when the door is opened, that's a possibility too)":
1 2 3 5 5 8
«Plot» Gretchen says, "3 KP used, standing on the last INT roll there."
«Plot» Gretchen says, "I have to talk with Frankie. That's the only option here."
While Gretchen's busy worrying about what's going on in CHROME, she gets that -feeling-. The crawl up the spine, the buzz in the ears. The low level static of the world had just ratcheted up a little in the immediate area.
"Frankie? Hey, what's going on out there?"
Annoyed and utterly forgetting he's supposed to be the one in charge, 'Goldtooth' unlocks the door - just in time to be shoved back as a heavy body collapses inwards. 'Puddles', aka Frankie, bubbling blood and generally breathing his last. "Oh god! Frankie! Hold on, sweetie!" 'Puddles' looks up, gripping Goldie's hand. He doesn't look scared, just… surprised.
Meanwhile, one can quite easily hear a voice booming over the thumpa thumpa of the music. "A'right, chummers! You know the drill. Everyone -not- on the floor is getting a fucking slug -right through the brain pan-. Now - where the hell's Gerald?"
"Sixty seconds, Pard!" Comes a second voice.
Goldie is looking - well, white as a sheet.
«OOC» Patient says, "Welcome to 'shit happens'. You're in a hold up. :3"
«OOC» Patient checks. C-B security rating in that part of town.
«OOC» Gretchen cheers! "Okay, okayokay… Gotta think…"
Gretchen mentally curses herself for getting into this mess, and rapidly tries to come up with a plan to get the hell out of it!
"Oh god, oh god, that's -me-. They're looking for -me-" hisses Goldie, all the fancy smancy right out the window when the drek hits the fan. Fingers claw out for Gretchen's shoe, desperation coloring his voice. "You gotta get me out of here! You gotta! They're gonna -kill- me!" He hisses. Meanwhile, a few more booming shotgun explosions ring out, causing several people to scream in alarm out on the dance floor. Luckily, the way the Conference room is placed, the two are - momentarily - hidden from direct line of sight.
"What did I say? What did I -just- fucking say? Don't. MOVE."
«Plot» Gretchen says, "Alright. Would I be aware of an exit near these conference rooms? One where I might be able to slip past the holder-uppers?"
«Plot» Patient grins. Unfortunately, the CHROME doesn't have a back exit, or else people could slip in bigger weapons. Or slip in without paying the cover charge, the biggest problem. There is a panic room - it's panic sealed. Probably from the owners as soon as someone started firing off.
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Reaction vs TN 4 for "I'm wrist-snapping out my Alta w/ APDS and pointing it at Goldie for the sake of intimidation.":
2 3 3 8 8 = 2 Successes
«Plot» Patient says, "The music is still thumpa thumpa thumping, so the man yelling has to yell loud. Lights are still zipping too and fro to drive non-existent dancers to heights of exhilaration. That, or dizziness followed by monetary purchases. Without poking your head out, though, that's all you're going to know."
«Plot» Patient says, "No resist; The man's already intimidated as is."
Goldie yanks his hands back, keeping them up even as the blood of Frankie rolls down them to soak and ruin his clothes. He's actually -crying-. "Please, please! You gotta get me out of here. I can pay! I .. I can! I can activate the chip! I'm not even supposed to be here, I don't belong here, please, it was just a job.."
He rambles.
Gretchen steps back out of line of sight of the shooters through the doorway and whips a handgun out with a flick of her wrist. She hisses back at Goldie, prepared to lash out due to being very cornered. This is very much not a good spot to be in. "Explain! NOW!" Gretchen's nostrils flare as she contemplates taking a peek out into the main floor…
<Plot» Gretchen says, "I mainly just want Goldie to explain his side of the situation as quickly as possible to help me decide what I want to do. I'm not asking for more than a few seconds worth of explanation if I can get even that much, but I'd like some information on one or more of the following a) why he's being pursued, b) who's doing the pursuing (and is outside in the club), c) significance of the chip he mentioned (the one on the table here?). All thought of actually working for him is out the window at this point, but if he makes it worthwhile for me to consider helping him get out with his life, I may try to facilitate his escape. Maybe!"
"I don't know! I don't know anything! It's just a job! I was told to be here, hire a runner, give them the datachip and collect. Anything left over was bonus! I swear!"
States Goldie, before his eyes drift back down to Frankie - currently joining the rest of the room in terms of temperature. "Oh, Frankie. Oh, you poor idiot." He wipes the heel of his hand across his eyes, sniffling. "It's Dolt. Oh god, oh god.. I slept with his sister. She told me he had problems, I just thought he was retarded. Listen; Listen." Here, back to begging.
"The credstick. The credstick! I can pay. You can have it. Just -help me-."
"Forty seconds, Pard!"
Calls the second voice, while the first growls out. "Alright, we'll do this the hard way. You! You know Gerald? Sniveling little drekker with gold teeth? No?"
BLAM
"Someone better figure out where the hell Gerald is, and figure it out -now-."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Just out of curiosity"
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Is one of the walls of this room an exterior wall? If a hole were to appear somehow..? >.>"
«OOC» Patient says, "Just into curiosity?"
«OOC» Patient says, "That's an excellent question. I'd say -probably-, if only because the description of the CHROME makes it seem like the conference rooms (and panic room) is in the back of the building, nestled far past the dance floor? But it made it clear that the walls are thick."
«Plot» Gretchen says, "You know what, I'm gonna stall for a couple seconds to cast Detect Enemies. Assuming that, if the shooters out there /become/ enemies, they'll register to the spell even though I did it early. Does that work?"
«OOC» Gretchen says, "BGCount?"
«OOC» Patient says, "Right now, with a club fruitfully full of panic and people being shot, 2."
«OOC» Patient says, "That's what set off your spider sense in the first place, secret BGcount roll. The sudden increase in 'static'."
«Plot» Patient says, "Hm. After reviewing the 'detect enemies' spell, it would not work for what Gretchen wants. It specifically states that it would not 'detect someone shooting into a crowd at random', because they have no direct hostile intentions towards the user."
«Plot» Patient says, "While she is in danger, yes, and possible could be shot or attacked, until they notice and decide to do so they don't really know she exists."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "The way I was thinking about it was that -if- the shooters turned their attention on me (say, as I try to break for the back door) that it might pick them up then."
«OOC» Patient nods. That would work.
«OOC» Gretchen says, "It's also a little odd in that I'd want to shoot for an assumed TN instead of an actual one. Detection spells are weird."
«OOC» Gretchen gathers the sorcery test details real quick.
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Sorcery + Spell Pool: 5 + 4 (ExpFocus) + Karma Pool: 1 vs TN 9 for "Using an F4 Detection Expendable and 1 KP. Base TN 6, +1 for casting indoors (totem), +2 BGCount.":
1 1 1 1 2 2 2 4 4 4 5 7 8 9 9 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Sorcery + Spell Pool: 5 + 4 (ExpFocus) + Karma Pool: 1 - 2 vs TN 9 for "Using an F4 Detection Expendable and 1 KP. Base TN 6, +1 for casting indoors (totem), +2 BGCount. Reroll 1. Total KP Spent: 5 (3 last session)":
1 1 2 2 2 3 4 4 5 5 5 11 25 = 2 Successes
«Plot» Gretchen says, "Hoo! Standing on the 4. Drain coming up. Sticking that spell into a sustainer."
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451)'s Speedy Delivery………….. (#5093) has the Voucher Item 8 Braided Hair (Detection Expendable Spell Focus @ Force 4)
«OOC» Patient thumbs up. And also idly wonders what counts as 'hostile intentions'. Like, if you club snub some chick and then suddenly get into a fight, does she register as a hostile if she still has the desire to spill a cocktail on your dress sometime?
«OOC» Patient writes that one down to ask the admin sometime. Part of Stupid Questions Volume 13.
«OOC» Gretchen says, "I do feel like there could be some um… leeway for comprehending people's harmful intentions like that. For a combat sort of game, it could be seen as 'only detecting people who want to murder'."
«OOC» Patient nods. I guess it all comes down to RAW vs. RAI.
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) uses 1 of item 8: Braided Hair (Detection Expendable Spell Focus @ Force 4) from Speedy Delivery………….. (#5093).
«OOC» Patient says, "Yeah. Might make for a confusing battlespace if you're an ork swinging into a smoother club, then somewhere at the top get into a fight. Run detect enemies, suddenly get a pox of dots all the way down."
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Willpower + Spell Pool: 2 vs TN 3 for "F4 Detect Enemies » 2M Drain, +1 per 2BGCount":
1 2 2 3 4 4 5 7 = 5 Successes
«OOC» Patient says, "Because magic's stupid-smart, and it puts 'badmouth your mother' right next too 'ventilate your skull'"
«OOC» Patient says, "But,yeah. I assume only in the murder/damage hostile sense. Still a cute thought."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "A more socially oriented scene might benefit from some nuances being allowed like that."
«OOC» Patient says, "Maybe. Then again, might make it too easy for some tyrant to know who was on his side. Invite everyone to a party, then hit the focus and start talking. Anyone who pings gets dragged outside and shot as an enemy of the state."
«OOC» Patient says, "Anyways."
«Plot» Gretchen says, "Looks to me like the spell should be good to go, 4 succs for out of sight enemies, should they crop up (chart: +info magic detections)"
«OOC» Patient nods. Yeah, you've got them to rights -if- they notice and decide to turn on you. Now the real question is; Walk away, or get paid.
Gretchen keeps her weapon trained on Goldie and keeps her shoulder pressed against the wall inside the door, whether to take cover, or to sprint out, that would remain to be seen. After a moment she kneels, lowering her jacket and bag to the floor in order to shrug into the coat as fast as humanly possible, then sling the strap of her bag over her head and cinch the strap tight.
Rubbing her free hand on the back of her neck, worried about how to manage this shitshow without getting fragged, Gretchen feels a shiver like a bucket of ice water being poured over her head but forces the sensation out of her mind — she doesn't want to deal with that welling up of mana, so some part of her intuitively channels it elsewhere, into one of her necklaces in order to allow her to force it out of her mind.
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 1 for "Good Luck":
4
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 1 for "Bad Luck":
3
«Plot» Gretchen says, "You know what…"
«OOC» Patient says, "Hm?"
«Plot» Gretchen says, "I'm throwing Goldie to the wolves."
«OOC» Patient grins.
«OOC» Patient gestures. The stage is yours!
«Plot» Gretchen says, "I'm grabbing the credstick and the chip, forcing him out and then running or hostaging him as may be needed."
«Plot» Patient says, "Sure thing. I'm not going to make you do a grapple check, because Goldtooth's already intimidated."
It's panic and bolt time, apparently, and Gretchen scoops up the stick and chip, shoving them into a pocket. "Move! I'm not fucking involved in your domestic bullshit." Her accent is thicker than normal as she rapid-fires the syllables. Clutching at the collar of Goldie's jacket she begins to force him upright and forward, over and past the fallen Puddles with the barrel of her weapon at his head.
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Intelligence for "Finally getting a look out the door ()":
1 2 2 3 3 5
«Plot» Gretchen meant to add (past Goldie/using him as a bit of a shield right now)
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Obviously he blocks my view something fierce. ;)"
«Plot» Gretchen thinks about armor because…
«Plot» Patient says, "Normal TN 4, +2 for partial light/glare (dance strobes), +2 distracted by frog marching Goldie with a gun to his head. It's very, very busy in there."
«Plot» Gretchen says, "3/2 Parka layered with leather clothing for a +1 Impact after halving, Ancien scarf for +1 Ballistic. No CP or Qui penalties for end result 4/3"
«Plot» Gretchen says, "Action-wise, I guess I just want to get a better look toward potential exits. Goggles can toggle thermo and 20x zoom"
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Intelligence for "Exits and positions of any Gerald-haters?":
3 5 5 5 8 11
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 5 vs TN 8 for "Reasons":
1 1 2 3 5 = 0 Successes
The lights still flash and strobe in the partial darkness, flicking on and off to give a stylized half-blink movement to non-existent dancers. The glitter of spilled drinks - or blood? Bodies along the walls, hunkered in seats, crawling across the floor. Or simply not moving. Honestly, it's hard to tell the difference between someone dead, someone dying, and someone just being still. It's a confusing mass, even without the rat suddenly twisting and pushing against the slick floor, whimpering his 'no.. wait.. wait, no..'.
As for the Gerald-Hater - well, it's probably the guy with the submachine gun. Or, at least, he's one of them. Broad but short, twisted sideways by some bad bone structure, his scar-pocketed face painted with claw marks. He glances at his wrist, and hollers out:
"Ten seconds!"
Someone's been paying attention to average response times in this area.
"Geraaald, come out to plaaaay~" Comes a darker voice, from the center of the dance floor. Some decrepit freak of nature, large -everything-, wearing a mishmash of old combat gear and slapped on metal, a huge hiker's backpack hanging from massive shoulders. Something like a cobbled auto-shotgun gripped in a ham like fist. But the worse part? The worse part is the face. He's got no nose! .. Well, he might, but it's hidden beneath a tight white sack he's pulled over his face like some bizarre luchador mask. Red circles around the eyes, blue circle around the mouth. The brief roll of the lights across his form flickers in speckles of red as the music continues to thumpa-thumpa-thump. They're making their way back towards the conference rooms, the two that Gretchen can see - but by the yells and occasional explosive detonation from the other side of the room, there's more than these two. CHROME allowed pistols and small weapons, but who brings armor to a dance club?
There's only one real exit - past these guys. Fire code spec, it isn't. The only question is, wait until they notice, draw their attention, or shoot the rat bastard and leave him to squeal while hiding behind a table. OR some fourth option. Really, at this moment, Gretchen's got a plethora of options, and none of them's great.
«OOC» Gretchen says, "So what's with the luchador? Is he ork sized? Bigger?"
«OOC» Patient says, "About ork sized, yeah. He's a big guy."
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Gang Identification:
1 2 3
«Plot» Patient says, " .. Must be a member of the.. uh.. BIG GUYS. Hell if you know, it's dark and busy and you're not getting much in between the strobe pulses."
"Who are your friends, Gerald?!" Gretchen continues trying to urge the man along, sneaking glances onto the strobe-flashing dance floor at the hulk in the mask.
«OOC» Gretchen says, "I assume one is Dolt. But I figured I'd get some NPC discussion happening with a starter question."
«OOC» Patient nods. And just to be clear, you've come out of the conference room with Gerald, gun to head?
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Hold on."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "I was thinking the whole time that there were clear lines of sight."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Am I walking him out into shoulder-to-shoulder bodies actually? Is the place really fucking crowded?"
«OOC» Patient says, "Yes and no. It is busy, but you're not walking him out shoulder to shoulder. The way CHROME is described, the dance floor is in the center, and there are low rows of booths along the edges of the room. There's no bar, because there's a bar bot at every booth. Conference and panic rooms in the back. So there's lots of avenues to work with and keep low on. You're starting on the opposite side you need to be on to exit the premise, with at least two between you and the door. There's more, but you can't make them out between strobe/dark/strobe/dark flash flash glitter thumpa-thumpa-thumpa, because no one turned off the AutoDJ."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Okayokay… Just trying to puzzle things out."
«OOC» Patient says, "Not a problem, sorry it wasn't as clear. So; The way you described things, you're marching Gerald out of the conference room, gun to his head, and trying to look around him to see what all's going on. Is that still accurate?"
«OOC» Gretchen says, "I was thinking to his back, really, if that has an impact on the situation. I realize the shooters may want him dead, so really I'm just using him for a bullet shield if it comes to that."
«OOC» Patient nods. Did you have a grip on him, or using the gun/intimidate to make him stay put?
«OOC» Gretchen says, "I'm also not against letting him live either, if he chooses to be useful in getting us both out of here, somehow…"
«Plot» Gretchen says, "I'm holding his collar with one hand, gun to his ribs with the other, shoving him forward if he's resisting. I'll try to creep a ways down the hall toward the main room since the only exit I know about is there, but something occurs to me."
«OOC» Patient grins. Go on?
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Negotiation (Fast Talk) for "Unless you can get us into the panic room, /Gerald/ — if that is your real name — I'm throwing you to the wolves. And under the bus. The buswolves. And I don't think you want to dance with the freaky luchador out on the dance floor, do you Gerald?":
1 4 4 5 10
Urging Gerald forward by holding his collar and shoving him with the barrel of her gun to the small of his back, Gretchen calls into his ear to be heard over the chaos. "Panic room or wolves!"
«OOC» Gretchen says, "On the other hand, I could see the panic room only being made available to actual Chrome staff."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "I still don't really have any idea why these two were posing as J and bodyguard though. Maybe I should have checked the chip. :/"
«OOC» Patient says, "One of life's mysteries. Worse to worst, it could turn into an actual valid run that just got off to a really.. -really- rocky start with an amateur as a blinder."
«OOC» Patient says, "Course, that means completing it on your own or finding a few other people to help depending on how rough it's going to be."
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 1 for "Good Luck":
2
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 1 for "Bad Luck":
8
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 5 vs TN 6 for "Reasons":
2 2 3 4 5 = 0 Successes
«Plot» Patient says, "Right. Flight or Fight time from a Bad Luck roll, intimidation broken by blind panic. Roll me a grapple, TN 4 (opponent already 'grasped')."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Does a martial arts roll qualify? I haven't refreshed on the melee rules too much yet."
«Plot» Patient says, "Absolutely. Grapple's just a standard maneuver, like disarm."
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Tai Chi Ch'uan vs TN 4 for "Grapple attempt, unsure if I would be allowed CP here or not.":
2 4 5 7 = 3 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 3 vs TN 8 for "TN 4, default.":
3 5 5 = 0 Successes
«Plot» Gretchen says, "Masked (+Extended) as mundane, I forget if I mentioned that last sesh. I can still conceal another spell or two if need be."
"Don't-do-this-I'm-begging-you-this-guy-is-insane-"
The begging becomes a slowly rising hysteric as it becomes more and more obvious that Goldtooth is getting shoved to the edge of the metaphoric shark tank. His breathing is faster, nostrils flaring, chest pumping like a bellows - and with a rat-like squeal he finally breaks, kicking and jerking, trying to get loose in a blind panic. While Gretchen's still got a grip on his jacket, he's making way too much noise and motion.
This, inevitably, draws the wrong sort of attention. In the darkness behind her eyes, somewhere in the back of her skull, a dread certainty forms; One person means her harm, off to her left where the hobbled man with the twisted bones walked with his submachine gun, calling out time.
And then two more, one on the other side of the room, and 'Dolt' in the center.
And then another, somewhere near the 'front' of the club as shouting is passed back. A final, fifth, near the exit..
«Plot» Patient says, "At this time, they haven't rolled high enough to spot and thus engage, so we're not -quite- to +init yet."
«Plot» Patient says, "It might be a vague sort of harm - more like, 'I want to hurt the person I find here', but it's definitely meant for Gretchen. And Goldtooth. So it's no longer random violence."
«Plot» Gretchen says, "I have a few ideas, but none of them are at all good."
«OOC» Patient reminds of the old adage; If an idea is stupid, but it works, it's not stupid.
«Plot» Gretchen says, "I'm letting the guy run now, actually. They want him dead, they can have him. I would like to get into the nearest cover from where the baddies are though."
«OOC» Patient nods. Fair enough. Pose it up!
Gretchen just… let's Goldie free… Free to roam, free to be Goldie, or Gerald, or whoever the hell he claims to be. He made his disco slaughterhouse bed, and it's probably time for him to sleep in it for all time. With a turn, Gretchen does what she can to take cover from all of the sources of hostile intent that seem to bore into her mind, insistently enough that she might even be able to point them out with her eyes closed. She does a quick pocket check, crammed up against a wall as she takes a deep breath and ensures that her smart-system is active, from goggles to glove to Alta.
«NOTE» Missing poses of the luchador dragging Goldtooth outside, then Gretchen slipping out before the cops arrive.
«Plot» Patient says, "You're away scott and clear, so you can take what time you need. Problem is, you don't know the timeline on the datacard, or if there's anything useful there at all."
«Plot» Gretchen says, "Okay, I have either my pocsec to serve as chipreader or a little terminal set up in the Undertown tunnels."
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Electronics B/R for "Any peculiar details about the chip? And how much cred is on that stick I nabbed?":
3
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Looking at the physical casing of the chip and the credstick readout."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "If cred is better left vague (decided on at a later time if this log gets processed, etc) that's fine."
«Plot» Gretchen says, "Screw it, I'll go to Undertown and fire up my generator and the little Novatech Z-Term I have down there. Final decision. That's how I'll check out the chip. So travel time from Chrome to the Warrens, then into the tunnels."
«Plot» Patient says, "Understood. Sorry, was checking a few things book wise. Keep in mind that the Warrens borders are also on lock down. Let's go ahead and pose it up while I write out response."
«Plot» Gretchen says, "I'll try to sneak into the Warrens via my contact Kellen's Smuggling Routes skill if you'll allow it? (He rolls, I pay if he has a route to offer?)"
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Etiquette for "Finding Kellen where I expect him to be?":
2 2 3 5
«Plot» Patient says, "That's fine."
Gretchen hustles to the run-down neighborhood cinema where Kellen often lurks, slinging stims to the teenagers in the adjacent video arcade, keeping the machines flashing and the cred flowing 24/7… She needs another 'Warrens wall access hot tip of the day'…
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 4 vs TN 4 for "Route Success?":
4 4 5 10 = 4 Successes
«OOC» Patient says, "Yeesh."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "He's good! Toldja!"
«Plot» Patient says, "As an aside; Price based on core pg 254, with reduction noted per etiquette success."
The glare of flickering lights illuminated a slick parking lot, bits of trash and debris tumbling about in the freezing wind. Still, the place is busy - riding that fine line between 'seedy' and 'exciting' that tends to draw youth. Kellen's there, the heavy elf leaning against a heavier chopper, one arm resting across the back of Tela as they share companionable warmth and suck in some fresh air while waiting for the next stim sell. Kicking a heel out, letting the suspension of his hog take his weight, Kellen tilts his head back and grins up at the mud-colored night sky when the question comes down.
"Yep. But it depends on how fast you want to get in. You want it slow and gentle? It'll take a day or so, but won't cost more than a few hundred. You want it bad, and -right now-, that's going to run you 600 nuyen. And that's for someone to talk to someone and go to break early during a certain shift."
"Fuck off with six hundred 'yen, man!" Gretchen protests Kellen's pricing as usual, shifting her boots in the slush that reflects the light from the cinema's marquee and the neon signs of the arcade that shares the building's main entrance. A midnight horror double feature is posted up above, Thrash-Hounds from Equinox VII followed by SINesthesia, a classic identity theft thriller from the early '60s. The German folds her arms and tries to bring the price for instant access down to something more manageable on a budget…
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Negotiation vs TN 6 for "Neg vs contact INT, then contact Neg vs my INT.":
3 3 5 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Negotiation vs TN 6 for "Mmm, KPing.":
1 3 4 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls 5 vs TN 6 for "Kellen's counter. D:":
1 1 4 7 10 = 2 Successes
«OOC» Patient says, "Ow."
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls 5 - 2 vs TN 6 for "Kellen's counter. KP for NPC.":
2 5 5 = 0 Successes
«OOC» Gretchen says, "What a jerk!"
«OOC» Gretchen laughs.
"Fuck off with my six hundred? Fuck off with your problems, then," states Kellen, casually, as he keeps leaning back to watch the slimy clouds roll. "In fact, you hear that? That's the sound of time ticking away. That special time in every Warrens border jockey's life when a couple of assholes sneak off to grab cheap soykaf and jack it. And that time just went up to seven hundred."
Gretchen shakes her head, knowing the elf well enough to not get overly upset at his price hiking, but that doesn't mean she has to like it. "Just let me get the 'slow and gentle' crossing, come on. I can't be paying near a thousand 'yen each time I have to get in or out." She lights up a cigarette and paces a short route beside her bike on the sidewalk beneath the marquee where the kids who haunt the place slip out of the building to smoke joints and share forties.
"Seller's market with the border's squeeze, friend," grins Kellen, actually managing a half decence mockery of a popular trid-series business elf while providing a sarcastic return. Honestly, that takes a little skill. 'Slow and Gentle' run will take a few days to align - so at least she'll have a way back in afterwards, and it'll only run her two hundred. Normally a fiver to fifty, but - well - Warrens is closed for business, and those with holes are selling high.
Either way, while she considers, the chip-slot of the pocsec lights up as it takes the new data. And begins spilling out - target details? A hezless tusker - an ork that's had his tusks run down to make him more appealing, in a business suit. A name, a location, and the details of the morning flight he's supposed to miss. The only caveat being the 'no kill' warning. So at least the job -seemed- legit, despite the double blind that went horribly wrong when someone hired an amateur to play a Johnson. Or whatever the hell that was with Goldtooth, Puddles, and Dolt.
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Can I roll anything in particular to pull any more specific info out of the chip?"
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Street Rumors for "Would this aid in my understanding of the chip?":
1 2 5
«OOC» Patient says, "Hm. Sure, I'll allow a few things. Got computers or anything of the sort? And I'll take rumors as well, yes. Finally: Do you remember what Goldtooth had said the job was about originally?"
«OOC» Gretchen checks the log (I missed the final few poses of last session, but have the rest). "Just a no harm 'delay the target' run it sounded like.
«OOC» Patient nods. Pretty much. Make them miss the plane flight out. He didn't get around to giving you a timeline before Crap Happened.
«OOC» Gretchen says, "And no on Comps. :/ It's under consideration though. I just need more karma, alwaaaaaays need more karma. ;D"
«OOC» Gretchen can default to INT.
«OOC» Patient grins. Skillwires; The wave of the future. Karma's for cash. :O Sure, that'll work.
«OOC» Patient says, "Basic TN 4, there's no real encryption to fight against."
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Intelligence vs TN 4 for "No encryption! Searching for juicy info.":
1 1 2 3 3 4 = 1 Success
«OOC» Patient says, ".. Just for kicks and giggles, comp me a 'Dancing' on that street rumors roll you just did. Normal TN 4."
«OOC» Patient says, "YOU'LL SEE WHY"
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Dancing vs TN 4 for "Comp for Street Rumors?!":
5 5 9 14 = 4 Successes
«OOC» Patient says, "Ooo. Alright."
«Plot» Patient says, "Also, with the comp, 3 successes on the legwork roll just performed. Pose incoming."
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 1 for "Good Luck":
4
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 1 for "Bad Luck":
2
Gretchen had backed her small Triumph RK30 into the parking space beside Kellen's own sidecar-having roadhog when she arrived, and she now seats up while she looks over the chip, but lets the kickstand hold the bike's weight while her right boot on the pavement maintains her balance.
While Gretchen fiddles with her pocsec - doing the 80's equivalent of file explorer to get the juicy meta data tucked on the datachip - something in her head crosses. Her knowledge of dancing is far superior to her love of street rumors, yet there is one junction where both of these points hit. She's spotted that face on a trideo shot of Lyve Wyre only a few weeks ago; It stood out because, well… Lyve Wyre. Fancy dance club. Lots of pretty people. Orks tend to stand out, even those that are hezless, culture dumping sellouts. She can't quite put a name to the face (although the datachip supplies one - Julian Lowe. Who names their ork critter 'Julian'?), but her memory's definite when it comes to the Lyve Wyre. Because apparently Gretchen's mind is so twisted it focuses on dancing first.
At last the datachip cracks open, and that delicious meta data spills out. What type of burner was used to make it, including a date and timestamp. It was made only a few hours ago, so definitely a rush job, which matches the timeframe given for the flight leaving. Tomorrow evening. There are other pictures in there as well, although none nearly as helpful. Too far up, too close, out of focus. But in every photo besides the ones highlighted for the 'Running Team', there is one constant. That ork - is always with an elvish male. Wearing sleeks and shades. Another bodyguard type? This one doesn't stand out - not like Puddles did - he's never hanging on the target. But he's always visible somewhere in the background, with only one photo showing the two actually talking to one another while looking in opposite directions.
The credstick is attached to a locked account; Gretchen can review it, but she can't access the funds without the authorizer. Who was either Goldtooth, in which case, damn; Or it's being controlled by whoever's monitoring the sitch, waiting for Julian to miss his flight. So either she's damned out of luck or she's gotten a lucky streak none the less.
«Plot» Gretchen says, "To meddle or not to meddle…"
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Curiosity for "Set WIL TN.":
1 4 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Willpower vs TN 5:
1 3 4 5 8 13 = 3 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Paranoia for "Alternate WIL TN":
2 2 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Willpower vs TN 5:
3 3 4 4 5 5 = 2 Successes
«OOC» Patient says, "Yes, with no Johnson to set the terms and ooze over the process of reconciliation and initial data handout, things do get a little hairy. :D"
Gretchen shifts slightly, turning on the bike saddle while keeping her left leg slung over, braced on a foot peg. "Hey," she speaks up after her data-reviewing lull in the conversation which basically ended at an impasse over exorbitant prices… "You heard of an amateur named Goldtooth? AKA Goldie, or Gerald? Had some beef with a freaky luchador, might be named Dolt..?" After taking a drag of her cig, she lifts that hand high over her head to imply the masked meta's considerable size.
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 3 vs TN 4 for "Checking":
1 2 9 = 1 Success
"Hold on, I left my 'I work for a fucking library please ask me questions' name tag on the other hog," begins Kellen, with the same snark but no bite attitude as usual. He's in a good mood; Mostly because he's already got a few people over barrels. Sellers market. Despite the comment, he purses his lips as he considers before shaking his head and finally looking down from the polluted sky.
"Gerald? No. But I -have- heard Dolt. Big fucker who thinks he's hilarious. Him and his whole screwed up, inbred clan from the bad edge of the Ute. They don't really run with any gang besides each other."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Okay, so I failed at a Gang ID roll in the club before. Could I try another attempt, now with Kellen's reminder?"
«OOC» Patient nods. Sure!
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Gang Identification for "Hoping that Kellen's input shook a vague memory loose. Some detail(s) about Dolt's group in the Ute sector.":
1 3 3
«Plot» Patient says, "Standard TN 4. Gretchen's still got nothing. Dolt's crew must be too small to really register. That, or she's paranoid."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Damn dice. ;) Well, I still have the Lyve Wyre angle and the credstick itself that might be worth something if I can puzzle it out. (Just thinking out loud now)"
«Plot» Gretchen says, "Can I still have my Detect Enemies spell going from before?"
«Plot» Patient says, "As long as you're maintaining it, yet. SR3 doesn't put a limit on sustaining outside of consciousness."
«Plot» Patient says, "As long as you'll accept the +2 to any action. .. I suppose I should've applied that earlier, but meh."
«Plot» Patient says, "Wait, you've got a focus to sustain it, so nevermind."
«OOC» Gretchen nodnods.
«Plot» Gretchen says, "I'm not going to pursue the inbred luchador crew or go try to rescue Goldie. Lyve Wyre could be interesting. And there's the cred locked away in the stolen stick. I want that nuyen."
«OOC» Gretchen considers maybe having Katral break the pinata?
«OOC» Patient nods. Without a proper Johnson to smooth things over, there's a couple of paths you can take. Hire a decker to try and crack it; It'll be the same as breaking into any bank account, though. Red danger and horribleness. Like getting a SIN updated! You could finish the job and hope someone was watching, especially if they hired the metaphorical blind. You could - of course - go after the inbred luchador crew and try to recover pieces of Goldtooth to get your nuyen without having to do anything like a job. He'd offered to pay to save his life. Or you could dance, dance the night away. Honestly, the world is your oyster
«OOC» Gretchen says, "I just don't see myself being able to take on a group of five or more on their home turf, so Goldie is kind of not an option. I am curious about the ork. I kind of want to head to Lyve Wyre."
«OOC» Patient nods. It's your problem to solve for the nuyen, I'll let you make the decision. If that's the path you want, full steam ahead. If you want to bring in another player for backup, that's also your call.
Gretchen considers things and decides that the longer term 'Rens access is the better of her options, and she wouldn't want to have to come back in a rush the next day and get the cold shoulder for snubbing the deal today. "Look. Here. For the non-emergency entry." She offers some certified cred on a cheap stick, leaning over to the shaggy-headed keebler who looks remarkably like Norman Reedus from that old, old zombie show from the 20-teens…
300=Y= is displayed on the little readout; a bit extra for the elf's time. Another stick is produced after, and she gestures with it, asking, "Before I head out, you don't have any psyche, do you?" She turns her head, peering over her shoulders, camo hoodie pulled up from the high collar of her black suede peacoat, with goggles pushed up to her forehead.
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Etiquette vs TN 8 for "Psychedelic drugs, easily attainable by any stretch of the imagination?":
5 5 7 11 = 1 Success
«Plot» Gretchen says, "I'll request four units/doses. 72hrs, should that amount of time pass in this scenario. 4,000=Y= before negotiations."
"Psyche?"
Kellen gives Gretchen a strange look, the keebler crossing one thick arm over another as they finally get to his business of the night; Stims to Chims. A sideways crook slides over his features while he scratches at Tela, his massive pitbull's head. "Yeaaah, I can get my hands on that. Real question is - how fast you want it? We're back to 'slow and gentle' or 'hard and rough'."
«Plot» Patient says, "1 Success, he has it. Avail 72 hours, can be reduced with 'purchased' successes at an additional 1.3 SI per success 'purchased'."
«Plot» Patient says, "Per the HR"
«Plot» Patient says, "Up to etiquette value of the player."
«Plot» Gretchen says, "I'm going to just accept the 72hrs and negotiate."
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Negotiation + Karma Pool: 1 vs TN 6 for "His counter will be 5 vs my INT (6). Total KP Spent: 7 total I think?":
3 3 4 5 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Negotiation + Karma Pool: 1 vs TN 6 for "His counter will be 5 vs my INT (6). Reroll 1: Total KP Spent: 8 total I think?":
1 2 4 4 = 0 Successes
«OOC» Patient says, "Gretch's just having a hard day."
«OOC» Patient says, "Got anymore KP you want to throw?"
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls 5 vs TN 6 for "Elf scams! Knife-ear con artistry!":
1 1 3 4 10 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls 5 - 1 vs TN 6 for "Elf scams! Knife-ear con artistry! Matching my own Reroll.":
1 1 2 16 = 1 Success
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Fucker! XD"
Gretchen levels a dark look and a displeased grimace at the biker, presenting the credstick in her hand with a turn of a wrist. "Slow and gentle, elf," is drawled out in her German accent.
The German pulls her goggles down after forking over so much money she… Argh. She just grumbles to herself as she starts up her bike and considers whether it's fucking worth it to try to play the other side and get some money out of the ork named Julian.
Elves smile all the time. So does Kellen. Except, when Kellen smiles, it looks more like he's showing his teeth so you'll know who's about to take a chunk out of you.
"You'll get used to me soon enough." He quips, even as he runs a thumb along the credstick. "I've got it incoming. It'll take a few days, but I've got enough to cover what you want. Since we're not having it 'drop off the back of the van' this time, I'll even give you a discount; 4400 nuyen." Lord knows what he was going to charge!
She exhales through flared nostrils as she leans the bike up from its kickstand, which snaps up along the the bottom of the engine. "Scumbag!" She waves and calls back to the elf as she slow-creeps out of the dive cinema's lot into the night after botching everything to end up /spending/ cred when her whole intent for this evening's events was to be in pursuit of it.
«Plot» Patient says, "Four doses, 2000, SI 2, 4000, 10% in fee from negotiations."
«OOC» Patient grins. So! We've got potential 20K in the line, and poor Gretch is 4700 in the hole.
«OOC» Patient says, "Including the pass later on to get into the Renz."
«Plot» Gretchen says, "So, what's on the chip? Addresses or anything? Or is Lyve Wyre the only lead toward Julian?"
«Plot» Patient says, "Actually, yes. Sorry, I thought I'd put that in the earlier reveal. It's basic information; When he's arriving, when he's leaving, but also the hotel he's staying at. Located in Aztlan sector of Denver, the Burnsley. Dated, but still carries that classic feel. Some basic bio information on him for identification purposes, the images you've seen and cracked as well as the meta data that it was created only a few hours before you took it off Goldtooth. And the instructions, of course. A no kill 'delay', keep him off the plane tomorrow night."
«Plot» Patient says, "By your own legwork, you know he's visited the Lyve Wyre from when you remember. It's possible it's a constant of his while he's in town, but that'd take more legwork to nail down."
«Plot» Gretchen says, "To Lyve Wyre."
Gretchen returns, having first turned right out onto the street, and is now passing the lot heading left with a parting message for Kellen, "Maybe stay away from Chrome for a few days!" She calls this to the biker with a hand cupped over her mouth before actually riding out of sight this time, putting her vintage-looking-but-high-tech wheels to the test. She may be more dressed for a hipster metal dive bar, but she sets her sights on the Wyre in the hopes that she may cross paths with this Julian character she's now banking her whole evening on…
«OOC» Gretchen says, "I accidentally switched coats because I did a bunch of gear sorting yesterday."
«OOC» Gretchen mumbles to herself about continuity.
«OOC» Patient grins.
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 1 for "Good Luck":
10
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 1 for "Bad Luck":
3
«OOC» Patient says, "Hrm. About time that turned around."
The Lyve Wyre, in CAS, is all about peacocking. Wearing something bright, and loud, and colorful to grab as much attention as you can. As the logo says, 'chrome is in'. The parking lot is almost always overflowing, as is the case tonight, and the multi-level joint is stacked to the point that one would have to practically fire a shotgun in morse code in order to talk to someone just a few feet away. That or hope they're watching their pocsec. But it seems tonight - for the first time - luck finally smiles on Gretchen. Not long after she starts prowling nearby, a suburban goes whipping by her in the other lane. A certain hezless cultural sellout sucking lips with some pretty boy in the back, while a smirking elf pilots the thing, all heading for the same place; LYVE WYRE.
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Stealth for "Parking my bike in secret? Across the street from the Lyve Wyre lot?":
1 1 1 2 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 3 vs TN 5 for "Standard and Average":
2 7 10 = 2 Successes
«Plot» Patient says, "You can skulk all you like, but with the lot overflowing there are a lot of people having to park far away and hoof it in. You're going to get some notice from the average joe no matter where you go."
Gretchen pulls her bike up across the street and tries to keep it a little ways down from the club's overpacked lot. As it turns out, it doesn't seem like there's much chance of skulking here, so she casually just… parks down the block. Nothing strange about that.
She locks the bike down with her S-K brand "Elektroschock" sensors and decides to take the plunge, shoving her hands deep into her pockets as she tries to make her way past the majority of the crowd with a minimum of hassle.
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Etiquette for "Fitting in here???":
1 5 5 9
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 5 vs TN 9 for "Do you fit in here?":
1 1 1 9 9 = 2 Successes
One would expect the amount of trouble one could get into would be limited in a single night; Especially after having just avoided a club-scene massacre. One would be mightily mistaken. While there's no gun pointed her way, it's obvious Gretchen does indeed stand out - no neon bodypaint, no flaming pink mohawk, no cool side to side electric visor. Her forward progress in is blocked almost instantly by a bouncer, the glowering cyborg shifting his jaw for a moment before pointing up wordlessly at the list of club laws. Namely, there's a cover charge.
And no weapons allowed.
GRETCHEN UNLOADS HER POCKETS.
«OOC» Gretchen laughs. Taser, pistol, machine pistol, shotgun.
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Magic stuff is all concealed (masked)."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Dikoted Cougar Switchblade in a concealed sheath, as are two Guardian Sprayers loaded with Pepper Punch."
«OOC» Patient says, "Pfffft. XD"
«OOC» Gretchen says, "What else…"
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Like, it seems stupid to go through a weapons check with weapons, but that's the theme. Shouldn't this be par for the course?"
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Just leave your weapons at the coat check and nobody asks questions pretty much? I don't generally carry this much firepower, but I'm trying to be accountable for my equipped vouchers these days."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "I could have just posed going to a safehouse and dropping stuff off, too."
«OOC» Patient says, "You'd be surprised how little a weapons check is actually called for. So; All you have on you, ICly, is the switchblade and two sprayers?"
«OOC» Patient grins. also, trying to find what the bonus to conceal is for tucking stuff under your coat.
«OOC» Gretchen says, "I mean, I'll keep as much of my gear on me as I can get away with."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Mortimer Greatcoat: +50% to conceal of items underneath."
«OOC» Patient says, "That'll work."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Alta in my sleeve would be TN 6 to spot on the concealable wrist holster, taser would be TN 7, Ithaca shotgun and Steyr in my bag."
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 5 for "General Perception roll. What can be spotted? Lowest is Conceal 7 after mortimer greatcoat.":
1 1 1 3 10
«Plot» Patient says, "The bouncer's got.. a sharp eye. Good luck roll still in effect. Incoming pose."
The Bouncer waits a moment, that false eyed gaze going down, widening slightly, and coming back up. Rather than surprised, or pissed off, or even about to - for example - call the cops, he just sounds bored and a bit annoyed from their position in the sideline.
"You think you're the first slit to try that tonight? I don't get why you drekkin' idiots can't read. No. Weapons. I don't care if daddy bought you a brand new bang bang. Drop it at the locker, get your number, pay your overhead and get out of my line."
«Plot» Patient says, "I'd say that's sufficient to burn up the good luck roll. Everything here forward's on you. :3"
«Plot» Gretchen says, "Okay. I'll make my way to the Self-Stor(tm) weapon lockers. I want to get a look into the club from there if possible. Armorwise, I'll be leaving the Mortimer behind, reducing to just leather clothing (0/2) and scarf (+1/0) and forearm guards (0/+1, in the sleeves of my biker jacket). Final armor now 1/2 (3 in melee). Leaving shotgun and ammo. Leaving TMP and ammo. Leaving Alta and ammo."
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Intelligence for "still in the locker area, trying to look into the club, peeking through goggles (20x zoom and/or thermo) to see if anything stands out. Hoping to spot danger and/or Julian.":
2 3 4 14 16 17
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Stealth (Alertness) for "Comp dice, spotting hiddens!":
2 3 3 4 5 17
«OOC» Gretchen says, "Can we also do the same intuitive BGCount thing as at Chrome! again?"
«OOC» Gretchen says, "p84 MitS: Awakened characters who are not astrally active can still sense a background count upon entering an area. The gamemaster should resolve a secret Magic Test for the character against a target number of 12 minus the level of the background count. For example, an area with Background Count 3 has a Target Number of 9 to detect the background count. One success is sufficient for the character to sense the background count and its approximate level. My Magic 9 vs TN(12-BGC)."
«OOC» Patient counts. You can still feel a little static along the back of your teeth, but it's roughly half as bad as it was during the sudden shootout in Chrome.
«OOC» Patient says, "In essence, BG count 1. Standard Denver."
«Plot» Patient says, " There's no sudden violence or panic to drive it up, no sudden shift in mass behavior via euphoria or something else. Just the usual throb of metahumanity."
Gretchen's maneuvered out of the line and into the locker area to drop off her precious, precious weapons. And really, she's not the only one; People are being told to shove in swords, axes, chainsaws. Laser guns. … A grenade?
What the hell is wrong with Denver? Some of them are obviously fake (the grenade's foam is flaking paint), and hopefully a lot of them are, but the bouncers are taking no chances. With this many people picking up numbers and the locker making beau-coup nuyen off rental, it's no wonder that the borg wasn't all that concerned with Gretch coming in 'trying to look tough'. Who the hell brings a shotgun to a dance club anyways?
Don't answer that.
Either way, the back end of the locker is guarded by more severe looking bouncers, although they're occasionally overlooking a 'donation' to their salary to allow a few people to skip re-entering the line and pass directly through. When the door opens and closes, Gretchen's getting an eyeful; And we do mean an eyeful. People grinding, people bumping, people dancing and jiving. The Lyve Wyre is packed, as any good dance club should be. And - wouldn't you know it? - her target's not too far inside. Even in a crowd of pink mohawks, an ork's going to stand out above chrome and smooth skins, being head and shoulders taller and just generally more built. Work hard, play hard, as the person currently riding his thigh is.. the elf he's always seen with. Gretchen catches the parting kiss before the elf slips off to the side, leaving the ork boss to play with some other pretty young thing.
And then the door swings closed again.
«Plot» Gretchen holds her tongue, stops herself from saying what she was about to declare.
«OOC» Patient says, "Go oooon?"
«Plot» Gretchen says, "I will declare using one spritz of my Negotiation (Fast Talk) perfume. (+1 effective CHA, +1 to skill from basic pheromone spray)"
«OOC» Patient thumbs up.
«Plot» Gretchen says, "I'll try to bribe my way in without leaving anything in the lockers. But I will remove my overcoat and drape it over my bag."
«OOC» Patient says, "Like a cat chasing a squirrel's shadow, the Gretchen hunts nuyen beneath Denver's awning. And sure?"
«OOC» Gretchen says, "I don't care who the ork is (unless I do? But I think I don't), and my main idea would be to see if he'd pay for information about the anti-Julian sentiment I happen to be privy to."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "That's it. If that doesn't work I'll cut my losses and call it a day."
«OOC» Gretchen says, "I mean, it's all or nothing here. I guess I could either try to extort the money from the guy for informing him that he's being targeted, and if that doesn't work then I can try to follow through on disabling him (taser knockout?) to see if the stick from Goldie magically activates at some point once Julian is confirmed as not reaching his flight in time. I don't know. Remind me to just shoot people and take nuyen off their corpses in the future."
«OOC» Patient says, "You'd gotten to the Lyve Wyre on a hunch, and that hunch paid off in spades. You've crossed the target as he was heading in. You got bumped at the entrance, though, and sent to the side to put away your toys on the belief you're like all the other talking heads tonight; Packing fake shinies. And now you've spritzed yourself and are wanting to try and fast talk your way in with your bag of goodies."
«Plot» Patient says, "Standard Bouncer int right now is 5; They're paid to notice thing, right out of the MrJLBBook."
«Auto-Judge[]» Gretchen (#7451) rolls Negotiation (Fast Talk) + 1 (spritz) for "I'll namedrop Julian Lowe and claim to be with 'location scouting'… (I'll keep the details incredibly vague, but claim to have an urgent message for the ork, under the pretense of working on a trid or publicity team. Why couldn't I just call? Uhm, because there's some sort of contractual mumbojumbo… Yeah…)":
1 1 3 5 5 10
Gretchen approaches her locker, but it only makes her cinch the strap of her bag tighter to her chest as she approaches the next layer of security with a spur of the moment excuse. "…I'll be in and out, five minutes…"
«Plot» Patient says, "Taking into account the info on Social Tests from the wiki. Bouncer begins neutral, TN 5 for int. Issue is 'annoying', +2. Aggressor is 5 Cha, -1. Gretchen takes one success. Counter roll vs. TN 6."
«Plot» Patient says, "ERr, not 6. Vs. TN 7"
«Auto-Judge[]» Patient (#12341) rolls 5 vs TN 7:
2 2 4 5 10 = 1 Success
«Plot» Gretchen packs it in!
"Uh huh. Listen, omae, I don't know who 'Julian Lowe' is," begins the Bouncer, while his compatriot nonchalantly shifts aside to keep an eye on the rest of the 'locker room'. "… But no hardware on the floor. You want to get in and see DJ Banger tonight? Cool. Pay the overhead and get in line. But the toys stay out here," comes the bouncer's firm denial, arms crossed. He doesn't sound upset, just - bored, frankly. The Lyve Wyre's a busy place, and he probably gets name drops all the time. Eventually one might catch his attention, but for now he's got a job to do. Besides, whose ass is on the line if one of those bang bang toys turns out to be real?
It's been a long fucking night with no easy money to be had. What a disaster. Gretchen turns on her heel, fuming at the doormen for doing their jobs so reliably, but she's over this whole mess. Goldie's dead or dying, Chrome! is surely crawling with cops, and Julian Lowe has no reason to pay for any info she may have. She pulls the datachip from a pocket and crushes it under the heel of a boot once she hits the parking lot, then throws the credstick in the gutter with an angry fling that makes one shoulder of her overcoat slip down. As she frustratedly rights her coat, zips, double-checks gloves and hood, goggles and breather, she straddles her bike and fires it up.
A long night with nothing to show for it but a bit of blood and some spent nuyen. That, and four doses of psyche coming in a few days. But the whole thing's been, overall, a bit of a loss. Datachip is ground, the locked account tossed aside for someone stupider, and no one stops the German from firing up her bike and getting on with life.
Time to ride into a smog laden future!
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