GM: Whiskey Slim
Players: Dean and Whiskey Slim.
Synopsis: Dean and Whiskey steal a credstick verification reader back from some gangers while using a pizza delivery guy as a distraction.
Date: 5/27/2071
Whiskey Slim answers an incoming call on his cellular phone.
<Phone> There is a click as the call is answered on line 1.
<Phone> Dean says, "Hello? It's Dean, we met the other night…over cactus juice."
<Phone> Dean says, "If you're there, or you get this message, I was wondering about that little job you mentioned…Anyway, you can reach"
(Directed into the phone) Whiskey Slim says, "Yo"
<Phone> Dean says, "Hey, man, can you hear me?"
(Directed into the phone) Whiskey Slim says, "yeah, who dis is?"
<Phone> Dean says, "Yeah, hey, it's Dean. We met the other night, talked about this and that. You fed me some of yer cactus juice…"
<Phone> Dean says, "You gave me your number, said to call sometime”
You paged Dean with 'oh yeah…me did…ok…um hey wha is ju up to der…uh…Jimmy'.
<Phone> Dean says, "Uhh.., not too much man, it's Dean. Well listen, Me-ka, you mentioned that you might know about a little job for me, and I noticed you're in my neighborhood…"
<Phone> Dean says, "I live just up the street from the diner, I can see you through the window, maybe I'd join you fer a coffee?"
Long distance to Dean: Whiskey Slim looks around like maybe Dean is behind him
From afar, Dean chuckles, holding the curtain back to look out.
(Directed into the phone) Whiskey Slim says, "Ok ju come gets coffee, we talk about dis um…painting job"
<Phone> Dean says, "Uh, painting?"
(Directed into the phone) Whiskey Slim says, "yeah ju come here we talk about job over coffee"
<Phone> Dean says, "Okay, whatever you say, big guy. Be down there in five, alright?"
<Phone> There is a tone as the call is disconnected for inactivity
<Phone> There is a sudden click, and the call on line 1 is disconnected.
Dean steps into the diner, the door closing behind him with a soft thump.
Dean has arrived.
Whiskey notices Dean and remembers who he is when he walks in the door to the Red Rock Diner. He motions him over to a booth in the corner where he is sitting with his back to the wall. Remembering that Dean said that he was a security guy, Whiskey waits for him to take a seat before saying "Ju wan a tasty beverage me hear dat dem make a mean Martin an Lewis five dolla shake?"
Dean walks in, looking harried, keys still in hand. Then Dean acknowledges the Troll with a small grin, offering to shake hands. "Think I'll get one of their bottomless coffees, but I'll keep the shake in mind fer next time. I come here every so often." "Buy you some eggs, my man?’Least I can do." Dean offers after a brisk handshake.
Whiskey waits till Vera has come over to take their order before talking biz. He just kind of shoots the shit good naturedly with Dean till then, just kind of bullshit stuff the weather, urban brawl, asks how your kid/wife girlfriend is doing. Once Vera leaves Whiskey says "Me gots a job dat me need some help wit, if ju gots da time. Kinda a straight forward reacquisition thing from a misprocurement of an item from a business dat one me associates had on contract. Me haf already track dem down usin some mojo an samples dat dem leave at scene, ju wan in?"
"I got nuthin but time, omae. I'm all ears." Dean settles in, blowing steam off the top of his mug, the coffee always comes fast here. "Reacquisition o'misprocured item, huh? Sounds like a clean-conscience kinda deal, no complaints here. Last job, one freakazoid wanted to kill everybody, and the other thought the best plan would be to poison a couple kids. 'Took me all night to get 'em to see the light. Ent up swiping a car, driving the kid’s home to daddy and them passing off a note. Worked out okay, but don't really wanna work wit'em again, you know?" His face takes on a pained look; a kind of sour frown, like thinking about those guys is ruining his fine black coffee.
"One question, you've already tracked 'em down, or you've *half* tracked 'em down?" Eyes glinting in the morning light. Senses, pores even, opening up at talkin' biz.
Whiskey taps the tips of his fingers together while resting his elbows on the table as he leans forward "Me haf all ready track dem down, der are six of dem hole up in da Warrens in some little shit hole partment, me gots a spirit watching dem right now. Me is no so much for da kill dem all kind of ting unless it absolutely necessary. We no get paid fo killin we get paid for return a credstick verification reader. Me know dem carrying purty heavy gear fo gangers too from look of shop dem hit least automatic weapons an shotguns.
"I' gots no problem wastin' gangbangers, if it comes ta that, but I'm with ya - if we don' have ta, we don't. First things first, I'm in. Provided you can tell me a bit about the opposition – heavy, nasty, or punk ass kids?" The Samurai's face goes blank, covering thoughts of past mistakes, zoning out to neutral.
"From wha me can tell dem is purty organized gangbangers, no much ware to speak of but dem gots some big bang bangs fo gangers. Big nuff dat gettin in a fire fight might get kind of messy a least for da neighborhood, dat an da credstick reader need be in one piece so we can no jus go in guns blazing an hope for bes." Whiskey says before calmly sipping his coffee and returning to the conversation, “Me also know dem haf two accesses to da partment der fire escape window exit an front door. Me will give ju haf me fee if all go well dat should come out bout 25k or so."
"25k a piece!?!?" Dean asks, incredulous. He's hungry, and it' showing. He swallows it with an effort, burning his tongue taking too big a swig of coffee, deliberately trying to look like nothing happened.
"yeah 25k a piece, Me no work cheap an me would jus farm it out if no for the time constraint of no wanting to loose dem before dey sell da thing or whatever it is dat den is going to do with it." Whiskey kind of eyes Dean a little when he swallows his coffee "Ju sure ju is up ta dis? Ju is good sneaky sneaky, right?"
«Plot» Whiskey Slim says, “I will need consent and Whiskey will pay Dean in cash on completion"
«OOC» Dean says, "What's consent entail exactly? You can kill/maim me, right?"
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "it means we can die yes, it also means we get more karma/reward"
«OOC» Dean says, "Didn't know about the karma thing, but I hereby give consent : ) Do I have to code that in?"
"Okay, my man, I'm in. Yeah, I've done worse, I can handle this. With just two of us, we'll have to have a good plan though, don't need a punctured lung again, you know? I'm a sneaky mofo, no ninja, but I can go quiet-like." Dean purses his lips, watching the other man. "You got an idea how you want ta play this?" He asks.
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "lets fast forward to a plan, 6 guys two entrances, ganger types with access to good hardware, all we need to do is get the credstick reader back so how would you like to do this, Whiskey can provide spirit, healing, illusion, improved invisibility, physical mask, er stunbolts, I am not so much good at BLAM just yet"
«OOC» Dean says, "Dean's got decent stealth, not real good at non-lethal, prefers a mix of scheming to avoid violence, and sudden overwhelming violence from a position of advantage. Looks like his knowledge skills, and tech skills won't come into this…”
«OOC» Dean says, "Wanna plan ooc, or pose it?"
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "However you would like to"
So the boyz talk shop for a while, sharing guardedly any relevant spells on the Troll Shaman's part, and assorted skills and gear that might be applicable on the part of the twitchy Samurai. "I think using yer invisibility, or if we can spot 'em, disguise spell there, to make me look like one of 'em. Do those spells tax ya a lot? Which one's less a pain to cast? I want you to be able to jump in and haul me out if needed." Dean opens licking his lips at the dregs of his coffee, then raises his hand at the waitress for a refill for both of them.
Darius steps into the diner, the door closing behind him with a soft thump.
Darius has arrived.
«OOC» Darius says, "Yo. Mind if I join you?"
«OOC» Dean says, "Just sealing the deal to start a run… Whiskey's running it… = ???"
«OOC» Darius says, "Ah."
«OOC» Darius is at S physical wounds, so probably shouldn't be going on runs XD
«OOC» Dean says, "Can ask him, he's busy typing I think"
«OOC» Darius WAS on D Physical + 2/4 boxes of Overflow, but sprung 10k for some trauma surgery.
«OOC» Dean says, "Uhhh, that's a weird one. He's a shaman, might be able to heal ya. I'm not against having a third, but don't know how complicated it would be…"
"long as me no haf hold lots o spells up den me is fine but me is good on castin anyting, Whiskey purty good soaking spell energy" He says like the actual problem come in more from holding multiple spell rather than actually casting them
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "do you need a heal Darius?"
«OOC» Darius says, "If you can manage 6 boxes of physical damage, sure."
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "No I only have a F5 heal but that would take care of 5 and then you roll for natural healing on the last box"
"So chew on this - you spell me up, invisible or one of their clones, I sneak in, nab the box, while you hide under the fire escape or the like, in case it goes south. What's yer take on it?" Dean asks the troll. Dean pauses, "Can you make me look like one of them, if you get a good look at one?"
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "A light wound would be like tn 4 base time 24hours/successes on a body"
Darius makes his way into the Red Rock Diner, accompanied by the four girls he adopted about a year ago. The man himself is looking somewhat worse for wear- he's walking with the assistance of a rather ornate black cane which he relies on heavily. The youngest of the girls holds his hand, while the others run ahead to find them a table. One of them pulls out the seat for him, which he settles into heavily, with a pained grunt. The girls all take their seats, too. Darius peruses the menu while he waits for one of the waitresses to come over.
"Yeah but passing fo someone dat some one know is really hard probably safer go fo invisible and spirt help give ju stealth, me use mask for make ju look like someone dem no know like pizza boy or make you girl thing like dat" Whiskey says as he notices the beat to shit guy walk into the dinner. He thinks to himself…don’t I know that guy…
Dean eyes the hobbling man and pack o' kids, lowering his voice. "So you think you can uh… 'Invisible' me, I walk in, with you on over watch outside. I nab the thingy, and bob's yer uncle?"
It should be noted, for those perceptive in such things, that Darius is an initiated mage and is making no efforts to conceal it. For those with a keener eye, they might also notice that the youngest of the kids is awakened, though not yet trained. Darius, in the mean time, is trying- not very successfully- to levitate a spoon. Whatever injured his body seems to have also injured his magical potency.
Black riddled head, neck, and back. Dead eyes leer out of hollowed sockets, not missing a single detail, except what's important - life itself. He's strained and on the edge of exhaustion, physically and mentally. He seems placidly resigned to bleak fatalism, but there's a hair trigger to sudden violence if his calm is cracked by the wrong word or gesture. Or lack thereof.’
"Hold on second der Jimmy" Whiskey eyeballs Darius for a second before remembering that he did that thing that one time for that guy that involved SIN chips and the talk about the guy and kids and ding ding ding Whiskey throws a sugar packet across the room at Darius who is totally not paying any attention to him.
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls Throwing Weapons + Combat Pool: 1 vs TN 4:
3 7 = 1 Success
«OOC» Dean says, "Haha, throwing weapons.sugar packets"
A sugar packet bounces off Darius's back
Darius frowns and turns around in the direction that the packet was thrown from. "Yes?" He asks, clearly irritated even without the assistance of astral perception.
Whiskey waves at Darius from the corner of the room it’s pretty obvious who threw the sugar packet cause he is holding another one in his right hand and a whole container of them in his left. "Hey bud, long time no see, ju sure look a lot worse fo wear den las time me see ju. Da girls mus really be wearing ju down."
"The girls are remarkably well behaved." Darius informs the man then, and adds- "Automatic weapons don't help matters, though. Whatever happened to muggers who just threatened you with a knife?" he adds. "So, can I help you?"
Dean sits anxiously, fearing his meal ticket is walking away from him. He flags down the hostess again, urgently awaiting his coffee refill. He twitches, tremors, and forces it to subside. Listening in on the other men with pitch-perfect electronic hearing. Orders the breakfast special when she comes by, and two for the Troll. His attention split, keeping a keen ear on the two magickers.
"Dat depend, me guess, me was actually going offer ju some help since ju is all busted an stuff." Whiskey points towards his satchel bag with all the first aid stuff in it "Ju look like a man who could use some help an little girls need der…daddy be in good health so he can pick dem up and chase dem round, ju know stuff like dat."
Darius frowns a bit, not sure if he likes what the man is implying. "I've already received as much surgical assistance as the doctors were able to offer." He comments, "I've heard talk that you're a shaman of some skill, though. If you possess the capability to speed my healing, I'd be willing to pay."
Dean smiles a bit, relieved that his meal ticket, if anything, just got a little more generous. Maybe grams was wrong, there is such a thing as good luck after all. Hope the trog likes his eggs'n'backie.
"Whiskey got some healing mojo if dat is what ju is talking bout?" Whiskey says as he motions Dean to stay at the table Whiskey get up and starts walking toward Dairus stopping long enough to crunch some bacon flavored soy product.
Darius nods his head again, "It would be much appreciated. The doctors did what they could to rebuilt my shattered ribs and patch up the holes in my lungs, but the clumsy work of scalpels and sutures is no match for magic." He comments.
Dean digs in with gusto, the breakfast specials being ready-made, arrived only moments after ordering them. Didn't hurt that there weren't too many customers, either. Slow day at Red Rock. He eyes the troll's back a bit shame-facedly, hoping he doesn't mind that he's starting breakfast without waiting on ceremony. It's been, what, a day, two days, since he's eaten a proper meal?
Whiskey hits Dariaus with a heal not even really concerned about it.
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls Sorcery + Sorcery Pool: 6 vs TN 4:
2 2 2 2 2 3 4 4 4 4 7 11 = 6 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls Willpower vs TN 2 for "soak S drain":
2 2 3 5 5 5 5 7 7 7 = 10 Successes
Whiskey hits Darius with a heal nods to the little girls then steps back over to his table where he piles all of his food onto one plate upturns it into his mouth then polishes everything off with a cup of coffee and his water. Whiskey then slides all the sugars and jellies into his satchel bag and nods to Dean. "Come on Jimmy lets gets to movin."
The Samurai, gulps down a mouthful, watching the spectacle unabashedly. Can you see magic work? He's not sure, but this is interesting. The lanky troll just waggles his fingers, and there you go… amazing.
"All right brother." Dean slots his credstick, putting the truth into the phrase, slot and run. Shame to leave his food unfinished, but that's life. Get a steak after this is all said and done.
As Whiskey heads out the door he turns to Dean and asks "Ju got transport or ju walkin?" Dean might notice that Whiskey snags a half stack of pancakes off a table that someone has vacated leaving the remainder of their meal rolling them up and eating them in about three bites before he ditches the plate at the last table before they hit the door.
Dean watches the troll, wondering about the roughness of his hands. Looks like some scars too, hard to tell in this glare. "I gotta bike, no offense, but I don't think you'd fit, or I'd offer you a ride. It's one of those little Japanese numbers, rice rocket. Barely keeps my knees off the ground. Hits 200kph like the Devil's on yer tail though." Suppressing a chuckle at the wolfed down stack of pancakes, Dean makes a mental note to feed the bigger man again when they're done. Good way to dodge taking more cactus juice too…
"Me gots a bike wit a side car, me was goin offer ju a ride if ju need one but since ju is good ju will no haf ride bitch." Ju jus follow me an Coyote we will park bike couple block away and sneak close to da partment." Whiskey continues out into the night, it is a cold crisp spring night probably just above freezing slight wind coming off the mountains makes it seem colder though. *Come on Coyote we gots work to do ju can sniff panties later.*
"All right, omae." Dean wonders at the 'no ride bitch', decides it’s all in good fun, and ambles over to his bike. Cheap black and neon green plastic hardly scuffed at all, but it doesn't look like it's been cleaned either. It starts up with a high-pitched, healthy whine. He hollers, "You know what gang this is were up 'gainst? They got connections?" He asks, fitting a mastoid comm. over his ear, looking around for a helmet he doesn't have, then back at the troll.
«OOC» Dean says, "Dean makes a call to an acquaintance in the Ancients, asking about that territory and what gang(s) operate there. Just a basic rundown, he doesn't know jack about gangs. *IGNORE IF IT'S A PAIN/NOT WORTH IT*"
"Me no know much bout gangs udder den mos dem leave me lone cause me is troll, dat an Whiskey haf put healin to more den one ganger of all sorts a gangs inda rens, him no pay no tention to any dat, course me heal elfies gangs last cause dis one time dem elfies dey wreck dem car on Whiskey, an cars dem things hurt, make Whiskey fly up in air, den fall down an break me bottle. Dat was sad night for me." Whiskey says as he kick starts his bike with more of a low guttural roar as the Harley turns over.
"Ha, wrecked their car, musta hurt like a sonovabitch." Dean shakes his head at the image of flying troll with whiskey bottle. 'Rens'? Guess he's talking about the warrens, Dean remembers them. Not a happy place, by and large. He revs the bike into reverse, it's a piece of shit, but at least has all the modern amenities. He pauses to wait for the troll to pull out before following.
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "Roll etiquette for your contact if you want"
«OOC» Dean says, "TN=5 for fixer types I guess"
«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) rolls Etiquette (Street) vs TN 5:
1 1 3 4 5 11 = 2 Successes
«Plot» Whiskey Slim says, "Deans Ancients contact knows that there are upstart gangs that have started trying to take some big moves in the area since lots of established gangs are busy fighting all over the Warrens the flood of guns and big bangs are making it pretty easy for these little gangs to knock over places and run off with loot. Most of these gangs are little more than a pain in the ass to the bigger established gangs but they would have to stop fighting each other to take care of some little group that only controls a block or in some cases only one building. Be careful though some of these little gangs are hungry and crazy because they have nothing to lose and everything to gain."
Dean wraps up the conversation over the headset with his contact. "Alright, thanks for the heads up Blue. Keep in real, sister." And puts his eyes back on the road, feeling the bike wobble beneath him a bit, as he tails Mica, Whiskey Slim toward their objective. Sounds like one of these little start up gangs have taken over the conapt. Well, they're not the only ones who're hungry, or a little crazy. Things have been rough on Dean for a long time. He pipes music through the headset, searching songs one-handed till he gets what he wants. The Doors, "Well I 'been down so goddamn long, 'it looks like up to me…" You said it hombre. Plus ca change, plus ca meme chose.
Whiskey eventually pulls his bike into an alley where he spends a little time talking to one of the locals paying the man with some loose script and one of his precious cactus juice bottles which will probably keep the bikes from being molested by the locals however Whiskey sitting and talking to the spirits in the alley and summoning up a city spirit is defiantly enough to keep the locals from even thinking about messing with the bikes.
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls Conjuring - 2 (saving for drain) vs TN 4 for "F4 city spirit":
3 4 5 5 = 3 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls Charisma + 2 (saved conjuring dice) vs TN 4 for "M drain":
1 1 1 1 2 4 4 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls Charisma + 2 (saved conjuring dice) - 2 (successes) vs TN 4 for "M drain 1kp":
1 3 4 5 11 = 3 Successes
«Plot» Whiskey Slim says, "Whiskey summons up a F4 city spirit with 3 services and takes no drain. Whiskey will use one service to make Dean and himself concealed adding 4 to the tn to be seen"
Dean watches with interest. Not really knowing what's going on, except the bare bones that his compadre is talking to the spirits. Not just his personal partner, Coyote either. Putting the headset away, bleeding some abstract, high energy techno now, he sets the phone to silent, killing the music's playlist too. He checks himself, adjusting a streamlined holster covered by the smooth black leather of his jacket, high up on his right hip, fiddles with the extra clips on the other side. He pulls out his crinkled paper packet of smokes, lighting one while the Troll does his thing, eyeing the surrounds in the mean time, noting routes back to the bikes, places he could duck or climb for cover, and giving any passerby a dose of stink-eye while blue smoke rolls out around his fist and lips.
Dean says "So, am I invisibled?" Dean looks around, down at himself. Did he feel a tingle there? Dean thinks better of it, puts the headset back on, and sets the phone to auto-pickup from Whiskey's number, volume at minimum. He'll be able to pick up the troll's voice with his amped hearing, but folks nearby ought not to be able to do the same. "You can call me if ya need to talk while we're at it. It's all set up." He says, addressing the shaman.
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls Sorcery + Sorcery Pool: 6 vs TN 4 for "casting an F5 invisibility":
1 2 2 4 4 4 4 5 5 5 5 9 = 9 Successes
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "Well you are invisible"
"So I go in, find the doohickey, snatch it, and amscray back here, right? Where you wanna be?" Dean continues, mind clicking over the tactical options, getting in the zone.
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls Willpower vs TN 3 for "M stun":
1 1 1 1 3 4 5 5 5 11 = 6 Successes
«OOC» Dean says, "No shit! Could probably just waltz in there now."
Dean says "So how does this work, they can't see me at all? Or should I sneak in like they can, just in case? Oh, and can cameras and such still err…'see' me?"
Whiskey who is now holding a active spell acts a little dazed but point to the bottom of the fire escape where he will be waiting incase anything bad happens. "Me wait der ju be careful jus cause dem no see ju no mean dat bad thing can no happen, ju still be sneaky." Whiskey kind of slurs all this like he is drunk even though you have not seen him take a drink tonight.
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "Its improved invisibility so with the spell and spirit they need 10 successes tn 9 to see you, or 4plus your stealth roll to detect"
"Okay, so you're at the bottom of the fire escape. You said the other exit was where? Into the building's hallway?" Dean asks, a little uncertain of the whole magic thing.
«OOC» Dean says, "Crazy. That mojo sure worked"
"Dey udder exit is up on da tird floor, partment 307. Me will cover ju if bad stuff happen me will shoot da flashy bang in window and ju come out through da fire escape where me can cover ju." Whiskey says as he flips out his six-gun Betty, and by six gun we mean six shot grenade launcher, he thumbs the safety off and spins the chambers around to select a grenade. "Ju go but member dat if me haf start shooting ta get hell out a dodge quick and ju go down faster den a prom date."
Eying the big hunk of iron with raised eyebrows, Dean begins to wonder what he's gotten himself into. "So you want I should go in the door or the window? I think the window, seeing as you've spelled me all up, gimme a chance ta sneak in better, 'stead o' knocking." Dean says "Gimme one tick, 'fore ya answer that." Cigarette gone, stamped out without conscious thought, Dean decides to put the juju to the test. He strides out onto the sidewalk for a second, probably causing the troll some consternation, and looks for a likely victim. There's an ork lady carrying groceries, smallish child in tow. He steps out in front of her, playing a boisterous air guitar, holding his breath for a reaction. On getting none, he looks over his shoulder and back-steps a few paces. Slides his gun out of his holster, lethal dull black eating the light, and points it at her face. Not so much as a batted eye. Dean purses his lips in thought, admiring the troll's handiwork. He steps off the curb, letting them pass, and slips the gun back into place, watching them walk on. The fastener on the ergonomic holster securing his piece in place, he steps back onto the sidewalk, into the alley. Street looks empty other than that, he's ready to get down to Biz.
"How eva ju wan go in fine wit me ju go up fire escape make easier for me cover ju anyways den." Whiskey says as he finishes selecting the right grenade.
"You loading flashbangs you said?" Dean wonders aloud, eyes looking up the fire escape, counting floors to his destination. He adjusts the sling on the small black nylon courier's bag he had taken out of the under seat compartment on his Yamaha. Lifting the flap, then looking down to be reassuring himself that everything's in place, refastening it and hitching up his pants, "Gimme a boost big fella, so's I can grab the bottom of the grill there. Don't wanna mess with the ladder, fraggin thing's probably going to be loud enough as it is." He raises his hands to shoulder height, expecting the troll to cup his hands so Dean can climb him up to the bottom of the metal grillwork.
Whiskey lowers his knee so that Dean can step up onto it and forms a stair with his hands and gets ready to hoist Dean up into the air "Yeah me gots a flashbang ready to go den some frags." As Dean steps into Whiskeys hand he hoists him up to the first rung easy since well trolls are like 2.8 meters tall and all he has to do really is stand up while holding Dean.
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls Stealth for "tossing Dean all quite like add 4 for spirit conceal":
1 4 11 11
«OOC» Dean says, "Hehe"
«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) rolls Athletics vs TN 4:
1 1 3 4 4 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) rolls Stealth:
1 1 2 4 4 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls 5 vs TN 15 for "ganger 1":
1 2 3 4 11 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls 5 vs TN 15 for "ganger 2":
2 2 5 9 14 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls 5 vs TN 15 for "ganger 3":
2 3 3 3 5 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls 5 vs TN 15 for "ganger 4":
3 4 4 5 7 = 0 Successes
Dean hoists himself up, shoving off the troll's hands and shoulder. The rusty ironwork grates in its moorings. Maybe this wasn't such a bright idea. He moves to the edge of the platform, hoping to stay out of sight. His pistol in his hand, as soon as he's caught his balance after clambering over the rail. Eyes up, watching the windows over the sights, Dean Hope this damn mojo stuff cuts it.
One of the gangers comes to the window and looking around a little says "Well I don’t see anything but some fucking trog screwing around with the trash cans down at the bottom of the fire escape, when the frag is the J suppose to set the meet so we can get rid of this thing. I want some cred so I can get something to eat. Frag man I am starving….mumrf mumble…murf…mmmrr the voice fades as the ganger moves away from the window
“Well, at least we know which window it is now” leaning down to whisper to the troll, "Wait one, can you hold these spells up long enough for me to order these guys a couple pizzas?" Dean gets a mischievous look in his eyes, not certain if the troll can see it or not.
"Me hold pell jus fine, ju get me an Coyote some picy chicken wings too? We is Hongry." Whiskey looks up at Dean then down to the ground *wha ju mean…we on job…ranch dressin…middle of job…but me wan bread stickys*
Dean places a call, getting out one of the flyers he left in his pocket yesterday, after meeting his new neighbor, Joseph, dials the number, talking quietly into the headset. "Yeah, hi, I'd like to place an order to apt 307 of the Franklin building. Yeah, that's right. Three large combo pizzas, extra cheese, chicken on one. Oh, and a side of spicy chicken wings, and some breadsticks with ranch dip. Fifteen minutes? Cool. Oh, it's cash thanks. Uhhhm, Mike, it's for Mike. Have a nice day." Now he's getting hungry again too. Shoulda finished breakfast.
He then climbs up slowly, eyes flitting between watching each step, and tracking on the window above. Once up there, he pulls a little pen-shaped thing out of his side-bag. It's got like a dentist's mirror on the end. Dean holds it up, lowering it to try and get a view in the top corner of the window where the guy looked out a few moments ago.
«OOC» Dean says, "Should I roll stealth for that?"
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "Yeah add 4 to your result"
«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) rolls Stealth for "Adding 4 from Spirit Conceal":
1 1 3 3 5 8
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls 5 vs TN 12 for "ganger 1":
1 2 3 3 3 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls 5 vs TN 12 for "ganger 2":
1 1 4 8 9 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls 5 vs TN 12 for "ganger 3":
1 1 5 10 11 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls 5 vs TN 12 for "ganger 4":
2 4 4 5 8 = 0 Successes
«OOC» Dean says, "Phew"
«Plot» Whiskey Slim says, "No one notices the weird light flashing off the glass"
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "roll int"
«OOC» Dean says, "Gonna wait and watch till pizza gets here. See how many, if I can spot the Credstick Verificationator thingy, see what they're up to"
«OOC» Dean says, "Any TN? or open?"
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "open"
«OOC» Dean says, "Got Hearing Amp -2TN, Thermo, etc, if any are applicable."
«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) rolls Intelligence:
1 1 2 2 2 3 5 9
«OOC» Dean says, "Not makin' spectacular rolls today, hmmm"
«Plot» Whiskey Slim says, "Dean notices that there are beer bottle set up to fall off the ledge if the busted ass window is opened and that one of these guys has rigged a flash bang grenade to go off if the window actually opens. There are 4 guys in the front room and two more screwing around with the Credstick reader in the back room which could be reached with some three store drop amazing climbing action across a very narrow ledge to the back window."
«OOC» Dean says, "Bottles and flash bang inside the window?"
«OOC» Dean says, "Or outside?"
«OOC» Dean says, "Got Athletics 5, does it look doable to me?"
«OOC» Dean says, "i.e.- TN 6 or so? Below/above 8?"
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "tn 6 to window climb to the back window, bottles and flash bangs inside the window"
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "Window is pretty probably with a athletics of 5"
«OOC» Dean says, "One last question, can I tie a rope to the bottom of the fire-escape window, loop it around the fire escape above so it opens the window if I pull on it?"
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "Sure"
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "If you have enough rope you could tie a security line for climbing out on the ledge too"
«OOC» Dean says, "Being a bit cheap, took the bag for electronics tools in case it was alarmed. Assuming he's got his basic climbing kit in it too. Sound okay? or too munchkin like?"
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "If you got the vouchers you are good to go in my book"
«OOC» Dean says, "Got em"
«OOC» Dean says, "TN for athletics with climb kit?"
«OOC» Dean says, "Oh, plus extra stealth for tying window like I described?"
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "So you are going to set up a window pull set off the flash bang trap and climb out using an actual climbing kit kk roll athletics tn4"
«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) rolls Athletics vs TN 4:
1 1 2 3 3 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) rolls Athletics vs TN 4 for "kp1 of 2":
1 2 5 5 11 = 3 Successes
Dean gets an idea, wanting to keep his hands occupied while waiting for the pizza guy to get there. He moves away from the window, opens his courier bag, and pulls out a length of climbing rope. Why not? It's gotta get used some time. He loops it over a rung in the grillwork a floor above, once again for stability, and ties off the end to a nail sticking out of the bottom of the window. The one lined with beer bottles inside, and wired with what looks like a flash bang or concussion grenade. He feeds the rope gently over to the far end of the platform, ducking the other windows on the way. Loops it over the rail, then back to his belt, tying it on with a generous 8m of slack or so. Cuts it with a fancy-handled pocket knife, then ties the other piece of rope securely to the railing, so it'll take his weight, while the one attached to the window will, hopefully, pull the window up if he drops.
He then clambers up onto the rail, moving carefully. Almost falls flat on his face, three stories down, but recovers by pure luck, grabbing the side of the nearest window's inset. Taking a breath to steel himself, Dean side-steps out onto the ledge until he's nearly at the back window to the place. He lies down on the ledge, putting a pressure fit piton in the wedge under the ledge, between it and the wall. Only got a few of those things, like 30 nuyen a pop. Securing the rope in the piton's loop, he gives it a test pull, knowing the balcony end will support him, but he'll swing way the hell off to nowhere and probably smash into a wall before getting shot up by gangbangers like some weird piñata, knowing his luck. Safely below the window, he listens with pitch-perfect electronic hearing, and raises his little mirror to peek inside again.
You hear a knock on the door, "Who the hell is that" guns get pulled…it’s a fragging delivery guy, hey this guy is carrying a katana…what the hell kind of delivery guy carries a katana"…why anyone who works for Uncle Enzo and the CosaNostra Pizza company that’s who but I guess Gangers don’t know that. "Lets fuck this guy up if he tries anything." The door opens and the four guys in the room focus on the pizza guy he has a little name tag that says Hiro. "Hey guys that’s three…pizzas…with…hey omae care to point that gun some other direction, you know this is already paid for and we don’t carry cash…so popping me is going to get you jack and squat” the delivery guy says thinking fast on his feet and not wanting to get shoot by some idiot over pizza. Whiskey who is watching all of this from street level with some handy dandy micro-binoculars turns and looks at Coyote *Me hope dat Dean give dat guy a purty big tip dis might suck for him…Oh frag how is we goin get our stickys an chicken wings*
«OOC» Dean says, "Want to know what they guys in my room are doing, and confirming that I can see the gizmo, also, checking for beer bottles, wiring, alarms and such on this window while waiting, before the knock."
«Plot» Whiskey Slim says, "The 4 guys in to room take up positions on the door while one of them opens it to see the delivery boy. The two in the back room move to cover them using the door as cover for themselves just in case they get rushed the credstick reader sit forlorn and forgotten on the bed where they had been looking it over. Roll int to check for booby traps on the back window."
«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) rolls Intelligence:
2 3 3 4 4 4 11 11
«OOC» Dean says, "can use security bg or electronics b/r too, if it fits"
Dean looks through the little mirror, waiting for his chance, when the time comes he lets it drop to hang from the thong around his wrist and prepares to jump in. How's the window look? Can I just throw it open, grab the thing, and then drop on my tethers to the ground? That'd be one way to do it. He'd rather sneak it out, avoiding gunfire. On the other hand, he hasn't fired a shot since getting out of the clinic three months ago. He's been working too. Tells you how his style has changed a bit, and how smoothly the runs have been going. Despite some of the bloodthirsty death wish fraggers he's had to work with since losing his old crew. Frag, that still hurts.
«Plot» Whiskey Slim says, "The back window appears clear of alarm or booby trap but it does have one of those shitty little swirl around locks"
«OOC» Dean says, "Look better to break it or use tool/pocket knife to jimmy it?"
Dean is worried he might be getting rusty.
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "Breaking will make noise if you can tool it open that would be best"
«OOC» Dean says, "Elec b/r or default int?"
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "roll int tn8 since you are defaulting"
«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) rolls Intelligence vs TN 8 for "Jimmy the cheapo old window lock":
1 1 1 1 3 5 10 13 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) rolls Stealth:
3 3 4 5 5 10
«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) rolls Athletics for "to clamber in":
1 3 4 5 5
«OOC» Dean says, "All okay? Shall I pose that, or you got it?"
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls 5 vs TN 14 for "noticing the invisible guy while being distracted ganger 1":
2 3 5 5 9 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls 5 vs TN 14 for "noticing the invisible guy while being distracted ganger 2":
2 2 3 4 4 = 0 Successes
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "pose away"
«OOC» Dean says, "For pose, can I find something quick to prop up the window, or make it stay up while I'm inside?"
«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) rolls Intelligence:
1 1 1 3 3 4 4 22
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "22, um yeah"
Opening the window's lock with his little fancy-handled folding pocket knife, Dean warily folds up the blade, stuffing it away to gently push up the window. He crawls over the lip of the sill, one foot hiking up to push off of the narrow ledge. Then, all but one leg inside the flat looks for something to prop the window up with, eyes flitting between that task and the gangbangers' positions. He needs something to hold it up, so he can Jackie Chan dive right back out, if need be. There's a cheap ass looking simdeck on a table just inside the window. He reaches for it, trying to hold the window, keep an eye on the scumbags, and get the damn thing without making a sound, or even breathing. It props the window fine.
«OOC» Whiskey Slim says, "One more stealth roll please"
«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) rolls Stealth:
2 2 4 4 4 7
«OOC» Dean says, "gonna use last karma pool on that"
«Auto-Judge[]» Dean (#9998) rolls Stealth + Karma Pool: 1:
1 2 3 4 4 5 11
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls 5 vs TN 15 for "noticing the invisible guy while being distracted ganger 1":
1 1 2 4 4 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Whiskey Slim (#6879) rolls 5 vs TN 15 for "noticing the invisible guy while being distracted ganger 2":
2 3 4 4 5 = 0 Successes
Moving toward the bed now, he gets a little spasm in his neck and face. Stress, must be. His right palm is itching, one part back in his lizard brain /really/ wants to haul iron and put two through the sternum of each of these guys, reload, and two through the head. He's the fastest he's ever seen, he'd have at least two, probably four or five down before they knew what hit 'em. He scans the bed, picks up the package, some kind of data reader, hard to remember right now, understandably distracted. Puts it in the courier bag, trying to keep the wall between him and the interior room, and keep his right hand as free and limber as he can while managing the bag's catches. The itch in his palm, and steadiness in his fingers are almost too much, he needs to at least hold the gun, with all these guys surrounding him. Stuff it, got the package. He backs out the way he came, lowering the window. Dean cuts the rope to the other flash bang trapped window, and rappels down the ten meters in two quick hops.
The simdeck gets discarded on the alley floor. Dean cuts the other rope. "Slot and run, chummer." He whispers to the big shaman, at least he hopes so. He's having trouble keeping track of the guy's whereabouts.
Having successfully jetted out the window and hit the ground before our Protagonist, pizza deliver guy gets finished giving out the free pizza, who ever said you never get a free lunch…probably the same guy that gave you food while stealing your wallet huh. Whiskey covers Dean till he gets to the alley then turns and follows him quickly back to the amazingly unmolested bikes. For some strange reason one of the old drunks in the alley is talking to the sidecar of the Harley but when he sees them coming all you hear is "talk to you later" as he scurries off into the darkness.
Dean rides along after the troll, wondering about the purpose of the sidecar. Probably guess, don't wanna dwell on it though. "Hey chummer!" He calls, riding up beside Slim. "You wanna hit up that pizza once we drop that off? I'm fraggin starvin'!"
"Yeah me really wan some chicken wings and maybe some cinni stickys, me think ju earn ju bones today der Dean, me know me could no climb out on dat little ledge an make inside, me would haf had to grenade launcher buildin an hope fo bes" Whiskey says as he hops on the back of his bike *Come on Coyote ju top talkin to alley guys we gots stuff to do an pizza to eat*
«Stats System» You pay Dean (#9998) 25000 nuyen for "payment of Job "busting deans cherry"".
Whiskey tosses Dean a certified credstick "Dat should keep ju in pizza for a minute or two me think der Jimmy." Ju meet me at CosaNostra Pizza an we take care dat guy get good tip fo helpin out ju know an stuff" He looks all funny at Dean for a second "Ju no drink dat stuff and drive silly white man."
"Sounds like a plan to me, brother. Thanks for the bread. Let's get some eats!" Dean takes the 'stick with gratitude on his face, pumped at getting the job done right. And getting to know what seems a stand up guy, even if he does holler at his imaginary (?) friend with disturbing regularity, Heh, interesting week.
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