Log: Rx: Smash

GM: Posh
Players: Blackheart, Lost, Posh, Scurry
Synopsis: The players are asked by one of Posh's friends to help plan a destruction for a rival clinic she bears a grudge against. Using subterfuge and pierogies, the players managed to infiltrate the clinic, neutralize the guards nonlethally, and summon earth elementals to smash everything up and leave the clinic denizens in this low class commercial concourse to deal with the hours-later cops. Probably with bribes.
Date: 4-20-2075


Posh glances around at the others as the big trid window she's set up shows a representation of the inside of a volcano, as if she's hosting the meeting in a lair. She's moved an oversized desk into this room she uses as an office, and she seems unable to control herself from enjoying a little mirth as she kicks up her feet on the desk. She's gone full Miss J - black suit, sunglasses, jet black hair. "Welcome, my friends! And thank you all for coming," she says. "Tonight? We're taking down a clinic."

Blackheart smirks as she sees the volcano, liking it a bit more than the moon setting she's seen before. Approaching the desk, she soaks in the warm view for a moment, "Is this the bizarre cult clinic you were talking about last week?" she asks. "We'll need a truck."

"Heya!" Lost replies as she makes her way into the room that's been pressed into service as an office, admiring the trid volcano backdrop briefly before turning her attention toward Posh. Noting her hair and attire, Lost grins, "Well hey there, Ms. J. Black hair's a good look for you!" She says with a smile, likely a bit biased being raven-haired herself. Glancing toward Blackheart, she grins, "Even if it's not, we'll need a truck, unless the equipment isn't the goal here." She finds an empty chair and settles down into it, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees.

"Are we going to elbow some sick people? Or is this a kidney job?" Scurry asks, seemingly unaffected by either prospect. "Or is this one of those cases where we swoop in on a vet clinic, steal some puppies, and sell their organs to unsuspecting blackmarket dealers who have mistaken their provenance for human?" He listens while Lost talks, and adds: "I think this is the least colorful I have ever seen your hair. You make a mean Jay, either way."

Blackheart's jaw drops in shock as Scurry mentions harvesting puppies.

"Oh for heaven's sake, it's just a joke," Scurry says. "Most black market harvesters know their organs too well to make it worth the bother."

"It is not," says Posh. "What's happened is that my friend Tamron has identified a clinic that's been playing particularly dirty in competition with her. Namely, it seems like they hired an operative to hit her supply truck, introducing a taint to some of her nictating membranes in an effort to stuff her reputation," she says, with a wink to Lost. "You might remember that we helped her investigate that a few months ago. She was able to identify from our efforts that they hit the van when they stopped for coffee," she says. "Which is why they didn't hit us - apparently the original drivers stopped for coffee at the same place every time," she says, with a chuckle. "But I digress. In any case, we're not going to need a truck for this one. This is a smash job. We've got to put them out of business, but not kill anyone," she says. "That way they'll be inclined to do the covering up for us, telling the police that they just had an out of control employee or something," she suggests. "So that means we've got a nonlethal clinic hit. A job like this would usually run a hundred grand, but I told Tamron we'd do it for ninety, to help her out. Don't worry," she says, with a grin. "That'll come out of my cut."

She holds up a little chip. "Now here's some of the basic intel. Here's what we're working with: it's a D zone clinic that operates as a cut and cough shop, as well as basic cheap mods, in the front. In the back we're talking full alpha setup, but Tamron was very clear - she wants it destroyed. Broken. Smashed up. A little old school I suppose, but if she's paying, why not?"

"How destroyed are we talking? Just give the machines a kick, or burn it down?" Blackheart wonders. "Those chem tanks they use for surgery could start a nice fire, I imagine," she says, giving a glance to Scurry, for his opinion, since he's spent time in research labs.

"If there are a lot of sensitive electronics, a water elemental could just flood the room, problem solved." Lost offers, tapping her chin before continuing after a glance to Blackheart, "Or a fire elemental could probably burn the place down or melt the equipment. Either way, in a D zone, we should have plenty of time to get out hoops out of there before any sort of response… so." She grins, looking between Scurry and Blackheart in turn, "No reason not to go loud, though we're gonna have to empty the place out first."

Posh gives a shrug. "That's true, but it won't be that easy. Tamron said 'smashed' and she was very clear. She was all percussive, hand into fist. I think she imagines some real smashing or crushing. I think in her mind, it's all like….bashed up and broken, as if we had two hours in there with sledgehammers," she says. "Not that I'm suggesting that's how she'd do it, but I really want to make her happy here. So that's really the sort of…effect we're going for," she clarifies.

"I say we trigger the fire alarm first," Scurry says. "Especially if it's a D-level clinic, you know they're going to be scared of whatever collateral damage they have let slide to cover costs. Too many plugs in a socket, uncalibrated instrumentation, that sort of thing. If you want to incite panic first, that is exactly how I would start it."

Blackheart nods her head, "So, stop by the hardware store on the way over?" she asks. "I have some smoke grenades, that should get any bystanders out pretty quick. Especially with a fire alarm going," she says, adding to Scurry's idea. "Your water elemental could really mess up any electronics," she agrees with Lost. "Do you know any earth elementals? I'm sure they could really wreck fragile medical equipment, too."

"The clinic is in a D-Zone," says Posh. "But we shouldn't presume that they rely on only the police force. They likely have private guards," Posh explains. "At least that's how I do it for my shop, I don't see why they'd be different. They might even have more security - electronics stuff, wards," she says. "I'm here to help cover any immediate electronics, but we don't have a good hacker here, so I'm hoping for some hoodoo hacks, you could say."

Posh beams at Blackheart. "I think you're really onto something with that one. An earth elemental would definitely produce the 'smashing' effect we're going for."

Scurry raises his hand. "All I have right now are Earth elementals. I didn't have time to summon more. So if you need three or four heavies, I have you covered there."

Posh arches an eyebrow at Scurry. "Looks like I lucked out to invite you on this one. Genuinely, I only knew that Lost had earth elementals, from that clinic job we did back when I got juiced." She shudders a little bit. "Let's hope that one doesn't happen this time."

"So… she doesn't want us to go all the way and say, blow up the clinic then?" Lost asks before nodding and continuing, "Smart… I bet the clinic itself is insured and the equipment isn't. Probably all stolen anyway." The naturally dark-haired elf grins, "She struck me as a smart woman, anyway." Turning toward Scurry, "Could work. The client doesn't want any bodies though, and you never know what might happen if you end up with a metahuman stampede." Nodding to Blackheart she continues, "I've got a pretty tough water elemental on call at the moment, and a trio of weaker elementals of earth, wind, and fire." The century old musical reference is lost on her. "So between Scurry and I, we're covered on that end."

"It sounds like the earth elementals are the least…well…for want of a better word, messy, right?" she asks. "Also, flooding might bring building maintenance that we'd have to deal with, right?" she asks. "I mean, it's in one of those huge semi-out door multilevel type deals. You know, pretty much postmodern tenement type stuff. Urban hell, pretty much, though not Warrens bad of course," she says. "Urban purgatory I suppose." She nods. "All right, well the way it sounds like it's shaping up it seems like this job is forming up to be that we assault whatever security the clinic has on hand, and then summon earth elementals to smash up the gear in the back," she says. "Can the earth elementals be ordered to avoid killing people? Are they able to fight that way, or can they really only do murdersmashing?" Posh tosses a wink to Blackheart as she says that one.

"So, we do have options," Scurry says. "I mentioned the fire alarm because, if set off, they would gather in one place. If gathered in one place, I can stunball the entire clinic at once. Which risks an astral signature being recognizable, but, what are you going to do. Meanwhile," He gestures to the clinic, "We go to town. This is the ideal situation."

Blacheart chuckles at Posh's wink, being a bit at sea when it comes to elemental talk and she nods her head to Scurry's suggestion. "I like it," she says. "I'll need a few mags of gel rounds, just in case things to sideways, but it sounds like Lost and Scurry have this one tied up with bow."

"No problem, if we knock them all out, we'll have time to scrub any signatures we might leave behind. Easy peasy." Lost replies, indicating the difficulty with a snap of her fingers, "So that works just fine." Looking to Posh, she shakes her head, "Not really, no. They're big, living pieces of stone, and when they hit flesh and bone, the result is about what you'd expect…" Lost replies with a wrinkle of her nose, "Water elementals are a little less lethal, and air elementals can knock folks out as well, but if we can hit the whole place with one or two stunballs in one go, that's probably the best option."

Blacheart chuckles at Posh's wink, being a bit at sea when it comes to elemental talk and she nods her head to Scurry's suggestion. "I like it," she says. "I'll need a few mags of gel rounds, just in case things to sideways, but it sounds like Lost and Scurry have this one tied up with bow."

Posh shakes her head. "Imagine a big, run-down, multilevel outdoor mall," she says. "The clinic is one of the many stores accessible by walkways out front and stuff. It's a maze of walkways and the like," she says. "The clinic itself insn't that big, there's no way it can be more than a thousand square meters total. I like the fire alarm idea, but in this case I can't quite see how it can produce the desired effect," she says. "Plus I think casting spells while /outside/ the clinic would be tricky, right? And wouldn't we all be caught in the stunball?"

Lost fixes Posh with a winning smile, "Spells can be cast at anything in sight. And you can even use, say, uh…" She makes a few motions with her hands, "Regular binoculars. With like… lenses, to extend your range. So as long as we can see inside, that isn't a problem. And if not… we might be able to convince anyone inside to leave for a bit." Turning her head, she smiles at Scurry, "Scurry's a pretty, silver-tongued devil after all, wouldn't you say?"

"Well, now that we know what our goal is, we always could try to go lay eyes on the place or something, to see if these things are possible," speculates Posh. "In any case, we know what we need to do, right? Get in, secure the place long enough to get the elementals to do their work, and get out before the cops come. We'll have a minimum of ten minutes, but we'll have to neutralize and deal with any on-site security."

Blackheart nods her head to Lost, "Why wouldn't the fire alarm work? It would evacuate the clinic—we're not after blood, are we? We pull the alarm, send in the elementals, and hold off security while they trash the place."

Posh turns to Blackheart. "Because I don't think there's an easily accessible, pullable fire alarm for that specific clinic out of the thousands of small little businesses and homes in that complex. It's not like a little clinic that's just its own freestanding little joint, like that, it's like in a big commercial complex in a poor area."

Posh clarifies, "So a complex-wide disturbance like that would probably bring the cops a lot faster."

"There are a lot of businesses in close quarters, right? Even in a D zone, they probably pay for better fire service…" Lost speculates with a shrug before Posh launches into her explanation. Grinning, she nods in agreement with Posh, "Or because that. So, we're gonna want to get eyes on the place. Then, we'll probably want to try and get in after business hours, that way we'll only have whatever security they have on site to deal with. Knock out whatever guards there might be quietly, trash the equipment, then get out of there. Shouldn't be too hard, but no sense in going in blind."

"That was my initial goal," Scurry says. "Evacuate the clnic employees to one place, stunball them, move in."

Scurry grins widely at Lost. "Yeah, I can be convincing when I need to be," He says. "So… Maybe we late until late at night until the other stores have closed up shop? A med clinic like that, they're going to be operating round the clock, no?"

Blackheart nods her head, "Yeah, we could hang out until after hours, then go sack the place while nobody's about to watch or worry about," she agrees. "If the place is that small, we should be able to clear it out pretty quick, I don't imagine they have more than two guards, but let's go take a look and find out so we're not surprised when we get there."

"I'm not sure this is the kind of place that has 'hours,' says Posh. "This is kind of more of a 24/7 neon lights urban operation." She grins. "But hey, I need a new shawl, and the bonus is, that we can scope the place without drawing lots of attention," she explains. "So there's that. Hey, I almost considered a similar operation before I went for the detached place - I like the hiding in plain sight thing. Whoever asks who else is going in and out of a clinic, after all?" she asks. "And given how terribly industry treats the poor, there are a lot of cheap prosthetics around."

"Mm… that complicates things slightly." Lost replies with a slight frown, "We need to empty the place out as much as possible. So…" She leans even further forward, resting her chin in her left hand, "Anyone got any gang contacts? Call in a couple thugs to make some noise, draw everyone's attention to another part of this lovely little bazaar, zap anyone who's still in the clinic, smash the equipment, and then disappear into the night, back in home in time for a martini or three?"

"Mm… that complicates things slightly." Lost replies with a slight frown, "We need to empty the place out as much as possible. So…" She leans even further forward, resting her chin in her left hand, "Anyone got any gang contacts? Call in a couple thugs to make some noise, draw everyone's attention to another part of this lovely little bazaar, zap anyone who's still in the clinic, smash the equipment, and then disappear into the night, back in home in time for a martini or three?"

"I guess plan B," Scurry says solemnly, "Is for me to don the disguise of a VIP client. A woman, a man, it doesn't matter. I go in there for a very important upgrade or whatever. Team Beta takes the backstage and creates a ruckus in the clinic. I can take down the people doting on my potential wealth. That's a plausible inside operation."

Scurry spreads his hands. "I'm fine with being the man on the inside promising to spend lots and lots of dollars. Consulation meeting, late at night, very secret, daddy doesn't want to know Princess wants some cyber. PLausible?" He looks between the crowd

"How about we throw on some disguises, and go stake the place out so we know for sure what we're dealing with?" Blackheart suggests. She looks to Scurry, "Is this the kind of joint that someone with real money goes to?" She wonders, glancing to Posh, "I thought this was some low down arms in the bin chop-shop type operation."

"Disguises could get us in easily enough, more than likely, but it still doesn't address the issue of crowd control. We need to find a time of low activity in this place, get in, make sure anyone who'd see us is accounted for, and then smash up the place. But yeah, this doesn't really strike me as the sort of operation high-rollers visit… then again, if they're got a full alphagrade clinic… people who are in the business are probably their main clientele…" Lost muses.

Posh arches an eyebrow. "Again, I think we should just go walk by it first. We're assuming crowds and the like when it's a small storefront. Usually there are no more than a few customers in there at one time. Think of like…I don't know." She flails. "Like the size of a mall bank branch, I suppose?" she asks. "That's a good way to think of it." She frowns thoughtfully. "With like a big bank safe in the back. So a decent sized mall bank branch, I guess, if there is such a thing."

It's relatively easy to just walk right by the clinic - it's on the fourth level of a multilevel calvacade. By two o'clock in the morning, the activity is probably at its lowest point, but there's still the occasional passer-by. There are enough ambient sounds and constant movie ads and noises of every type coming from every which way, as well as the urgent, almost hoarse cries of hawkers, that it's really hard to hear much of anything above the dull roar of metahumanity. There are a number of toughs that seem to hang around at certain particular businesses - you definitely wouldn't want to mess with the armored troll dudes in front of the pawn shop or credstick cashing place or the built twin ork chicas hanging out in front of a jewelry store with shotguns over their shoulders. The clinic itself has no such guards out front - just an open glass window, a small waiting room, a counter, and a door that leads into the back.

Posh thinks, thoughtfully. "Hmm," she says to Blackheart. "This scene is kinda making me hungry for pierogies. Think we might be able to find any?"

With all the ideas hashed out, scoping out the clinic is the next logical step. Lost keeps near the group as she looks around the place, peeking into the astral every now and then on the look out for any wards or watcher spirits that might have been thrown up in the area. At the mention of pierogies, she mutters, "Damn… now I'm hungry, and I've kind of been trying to keep things that are buttery and starchy and delicious out of my diet…" She pouts slightly, knowing full well that if any delicious street food is found, it'll be difficult to resist.

Blackheart elbows Posh lightly, "This goes well, I'll fetch some from the Polish Deli myself," she grins, narrowing her eyes to see if all the different outfits are from the same gang or security organizaiton. "But they're not open till the morning. Might be potato cones in the warrens, though, bars let out in an hour," she says, casing the place they were hired to trash.

Scurry gives Lost a shocked glance. "Eat? Eat food?" He asks. "Nothing tastes so good as being thin." Winking, he strolls along. "It's a pity you cannot get more cocktails to go. A hundred years from now, they're going to look at our society and think, "How barbaric"."

Lost snickers at Scurry, "Maybe so… but I don't want to be /too/ thin. The weight might start coming off places where I'd prefer to keep it." She replies with a wink, sticking out her tongue before glancing at Blackheart, drooling at the mention of potato cones, "Stop." She says, shaking her head, "No more talk about food." Her attention is drawn back as Scurry laments the lack of cocktails to go. Grinning briefly, she furrows her brow in thought, "Don't they do that in New Orleans?"

Blackheart grins to Lost, "You've had them, hey? I like the ones with the mushroom miso gravy, maybe with chives if I'm feeling sassy," she winks. "Think anyone's actually in there?" she asks, getting back on topic. "Place looks kind of dead."

Posh chuckles. "A potato cone sounds good," she says, turning to Scurry. "But darling, you're all skin and bones. Don't the boys like a little meat to grab onto?" she asks. "They do in my experience, at least," she says rather placidly. Besides, that's what I've got dietware for." She turns back to Lost and grins. "Aww," she pouts. "Anyway," she says, turning to watch. "I think someone's going in."

A patron who has a visible cyberarm hulks his way into the clinic and heads up to the counter. A few minutes later a bored looking lady ork stomps out from the back room, wearing a white labcoat, and operates some sort of device behind the counter for a few moments. She nods to the seats and the man goes to sit.

A number of minutes later, she looks up and speaks to him briefly, and he heads for the back door. She continues to wait out front, at least for now, behind the counter.

«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Intelligence:
1 1 2 4 5 7 11 11
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Intelligence:
1 1 2 2 3 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Blackheart (#12120) rolls Intelligence:
1 2 3 4 4 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Intelligence:
2 2 4 4 4 5

"Oooh, that sounds yummy…" Lost says, immediately distracted by talk of food again, "But yeah… couple months ago, I was down in the 'Rens and had one…" She blinks suddenly, looking to Posh, "You remember that? With the baby down in the sewers?" From her expression, it's as if she almost doesn't seem to think that sounds crazy at all. As the topic of discussion shifts slightly, she seems to agree with Posh, "Mmm. Regardless of gender, in my experience most people like a nice bubble butt." She notes, poking at Scurry teasingly, "Dietware would be nice…" Lost admits a bit wistfully before continuing, "But I think there's a spell that does something similar… I should look into that."

After trailing off, she turns her attention to the clinic, perceiving the place astrally while watching the activity. It seems rather apparent that her mind is still on food. Or possibly butts. Hard to tell.

"I can teach you," Scurry murmurs as an aside. "It's very easy. You can change your body to
something even a simsense 'vid star would envy." He grins before turning his attention to the man inside.

Blackheart chuckles at the conversation, shaking her head, crossing her arms before her. "How many are on a surgical team? Two, three?" she wonders, doing a bit of math, "If we don't want a fatality, we should do this before they put the ork under."

Commlink-Scurry> Scurry sends, « I can knock them all out at once. »

Posh shrugs. "You can hoodoo photoshop yourselves," she says. "But you won't actually -be- perfect, like -ware- makes you." She smirks a little bit and then glances back to the clinic. "Okay. So they're clearly guarded more by like…expectations, though we can imagine that they might have a few real toughs," she says. She glances back to Blackheart. "I'd say a surgical team is ideally three, with a magic user. Considering the rubbish that they're probably cramming some of these folks with, I'd say magic is almost a given, some sort of street mage," she suggests.

Scurry glances between. "So… How would you like to proceed?"

"Quite frankly, I've already got a body a simsense star would envy." Lost replies in a rare moment of ego, striking a pose with a smirk aimed in Scurry's direction, "Just don't always dress to show it off. Especially since we're trying to avoid attention here." She grins, poking Scurry teasingly again, "But I could change things up if I wanted. And… well, I know a spell that actually changes your body, Posh… doesn't just project an illusion." Setting her jaw, she focuses on the task at hand, nodding to Blackheart, "Good thinking. And I'm thinking there might be anyother way in which might be useful. If not, I guess it's nap time for the woman in the front…" The mention of a mage causes Lost to purse her lips, "Hmm. Well we're going to want to identify any magical security first. Then we can worry about the physical security…"

Posh can't help but agree with Lost, but then she nods. "Ah, I see," she says, with a grin. "That's rather intresting," she says, with a nod. "All right then," she says, turning to Scurry and Blackheart. "It's not up to me," she says. "I'm setting up and arranging the mission, but I'm also here to make sure things to right. I'm arranging for you to get paid so that I have work to check and that we can test it and do it properly. I'm the one who says what we need to do, absolutely not how to do it."

Blackheart spares a glance to Lost as she goes on, "You really don't need to change anything," she says, then back to the clinic. She pops her collar, and snaps her mirror shades open before putting them on, as they get ready to go in, turning invisible before they break out into full view of the street. "So, we sleep ray the nurse, then stunball the surgery. I like it."

<OOC» Blackheart says, "what's the background count?"
«OOC» Posh says, "1!"

«Auto-Judge[]» Blackheart (#12120) rolls Sorcery + 5 vs TN 5 for "Improved Invisibility F2, sustaining focus.":
1 1 2 2 2 3 3 4 5 5 5 11 = 4 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Blackheart (#12120) rolls 8 vs TN 5 for "kp for invis":
1 1 1 2 3 3 5 8 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Blackheart (#12120) rolls Willpower vs TN 3 for "soaking M drain, need 4 for soak.":
1 2 2 3 4 8 = 3 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Blackheart (#12120) rolls 3 vs TN 3 for "KP for soak":
3 5 5 = 3 Successes

Blackheart winks out of immediate sight relatively quickly. She's not the /only/ invisible troublemaker around this area, perhaps. But who knows what spirits might be having a peek at the sudden glowy thing popping up near the clinic?

Lost levels a smile on each other other three members of the group, but doesn't add anything to the conversation, trying to mentally switch into 'run mode', particularly as Blackheart blinks out of sight, "Ok…" She murmurs before lowering her voice fully to subvocalize over comms « Ok. I'll keep eyes on the astral, how do we want to play this? B, do you think you might be able to sneak around, try and find another way in? Might be helpful to take out everyone inside at once, neutralize everyone before they know what's up. »

Commlink-Blackheart> Blackheart sends, « Sounds good, I'll see about a back service door from the loading dock area. There should be a side hallway somewhere near here. »

There are a lot of spirits around when Lost checks the astral, most of them just doing their own thing. It seems that wanting to be invisible is hardly deeply uncommon, among the particularly seedy or simply ugly in a place like this. There's a sloppily made ward across the front door of the clinic, scrawled in crayon, likely enchanted while drunk. It sputters a little.

Blackheart has a chance to get a little closer and scope things out, especially when the orkette takes a bathroom break a few minutes later. The counter is austere, with only a touchscreen operated terminal behind it.

The clinic is served from the back via a central service bay, accessible from the ground by elevator - very heavily guarded by the comparatively mom-and-pop corp that owns the 'mall' They don't guarantee security to their clients, but they do to their own facilities.

Commlink-Blackheart> Blackheart sends, « Aw, shit. There's a small army here in the service hallway. This is going to get ugly. »

Commlink-Memory> Lost sends, « How many? And is there any chance we might be able to avoid them entirely? If not… we might be better off calling in the elemental goon squad to sweep the place. »

Posh glances at Blackheart. "So, you seem to be interested in gaining access through the rear," she says, thoughtfully. "You thinking of going all sneaky sneaky?" she asks. "I also have a sinfo dealer. Are you sure you wouldn't want me to quickly whip up a temporary ID that has you with a delivery of pierogies for the pub two doors down?" she asks.

-----> Contact for Posh (#11342) <-----
Contact Name: Dirk McDougall
Level: 1
Type: sinfo broker
GM Note: Dirk McDougall is a rather ill-tempered Scottish dwarf who loves to play with stereotypes, and is an old friend of Les. He's in fact one of Les's primary info brokers. Dirk is one of the best guys around to purchase an 'eyedee from, lassie,' and he also keeps his finger on the pulse of the shadows. However, being sharper than most, he's harder to get the best prices from. INT 6, Negotiation 5, specialized for SINSs, specific for information.

"Pyrogie runs at 2 am sound like the bomb!" Blackheart grins at the thought. "Even better if they're delivered!" she says, feeling a little bit hungry at mention of food. "Do you have forging supplies with you?" She wonders, glancing towards the orks at the pawnshop nearby, "DO you think they'll give us any trouble when we start smashing things?"

Posh grins back at Blackheart. "All right. We'll catch Scurry up when we can - we can leave him at that hot simsense store he slipped into, he'll keep an eye on things. I'll send him a text," she says. "And also one to Dirk. Blackheart, can you arrange the pyrogies?" she asks. "I might have to pop on over to Dirk's in person, giving him a little of the old sweet talking."

"Oh man… if midnight pierogie delivery becomes a thing, it could imperil my diet." Lost laments, shifting her weight as she glances around before focusing on Posh, "Anything I can do to help in the meantime? I mean, it seems like as long as we avoid certain areas of this place," She glances around again, making a vague motion toward the general surroundings, "We'll be able to keep from drawing too much attention."

"Would make life more convenient… in some respects at least," Lost replies, biting her bottom lip thoughtfully, "Dunno if I wanna cram any tech in myself, though… but like I said, I'm pretty sure there's a spell that works like dietware." In any case, she nods, smiling, "Well, it's nice to know that I'm an asset worth protecting." She says with a bit of a wink, looking between Scurry and Posh thoughtfully, "While I admire your willingness to take a bullet in the name of authenticity, I dunno if it's necessary. You walk in, use your smile as a weapon, and Scurry follows with the knock out." She pivots with grace, but throws a rather unconvincing one-two combo at the air for emphasis.

About an hour later, Blackheart returns with her messenger bag slung over her shoulder. "Okay, got some hot food," she smiles, hithching her riding helmet over the handlebar. Patting the bag she nods her head to the others, "I fixed up a little sample bag for you guys, sorry about the wait," she apologises, as she pulls out a paper bag with a little tin take out tray, along with some plastic forks.

"Oh, that's so sweet," Scurry says

Posh gives a grin over to Blackheart as she looks a little greedily at the paper bag, and she seizes a plastic fork as soon as is decent. She glances over at the others as she begins to dig in. "So. Blackheart's going around the back, as a delivery gal. Scurry's going to talk Lost and I in through the front. I'll cover you guys as you summon elementals to smash everything up. That our plan?" she asks. "Not the worst, by far."

Lost lights up as Blackheart returns with food, "Nice! And don't worry about it, I wasn't actually expecting food, but…" She laughs softly, "Not exactly going to turn it down…" Licking her lips, she grabs a plastic fork for herself and digs into the tray. Spearing a pierogi, she blows on it gently before beginning to nibble on it slowly. She takes a moment to savor to food, chewing slowly with a blissful expression on her face before nodding to Posh, "Mmm! Sounds good to me. We should be able to get in and out in… oh fifteen minutes or so? If we keep things relatively quiet, we might even be able to walk calmly outta here."

"Also, I can knock out everyone in the clinic," Scurry says quietly. He looks a bit dazed. "Also also, we can just say Lost wants a consultation if you want to get her inside. Mage going for burnout, maybe just wants cyber. I also have several more elementals since last we spoke." "Titan Andraeus was on a simsense. It was… intense…" Scurry says, eyeing the food before quickly eating it. He's an etiquette-obsessed mofo even under these circumstances. "I have stunball. I mean, literally, the entire clinic."
Blackheart grins as everyone digs into the greasy pyrogies and onions with a couple sliced up soy kielbasa mixed in for good measure. "You think that will get me through the door?" she wonders, fixing her delivery id onto a lanyard around her neck.
Posh has arrived.

Scurry shakes his head. "Not if you have any active tats or spells," He says. "Wards can either rip them off you most painfully, or simply bar you from entry."

"Who's that?" Lost asks Scurry, tilting her head to the side. "And I do too, actually. At a pretty high Hemn rating, too. So, we can both deliver the knockout punch if it comes to that…" She shrugs, content for the moment to nibble on delicious pierogies, "Of course… there's a ward on the front door. Shouldn't give us any trouble /inside/ the clinic, obviously." Looking to Blackheart, she grins, "If the ID doesn't, the pierogies will!" The dark-haired elf seems to pile up her fork heavily with onions. "She's going in through the back, Scurry. So no problems there."

«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Etiquette + 2 vs TN 4 for "Getting delivery gal ID for Blackheart from Dirk":
1 2 2 3 3 4 4 5 = 3 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Etiquette + 2 - 3 vs TN 4 for "Faster!":
4 4 5 5 7 = 5 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Negotiation + 2 vs TN 4 for "Negotiating vs Dirk INT 6, specialized":
1 1 1 2 2 4 5 5 15 = 4 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Negotiation + 2 - 4 vs TN 4 for "Negotiating vs Dirk INT 6, specialized KP 2":
2 4 4 5 20 = 4 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Gear Value vs TN 4 for "Comp vs Dirk":
1 1 3 5 5 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 5 vs TN 8 for "Dirk vs me":
1 2 3 5 5 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 5 vs TN 8 for "Dirk vs me kp 1":
1 2 3 4 4 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 5 vs TN 8 for "Dirk vs me kp 2":
1 2 4 5 9 = 1 Success
think IDLE
IDLE
«Plot» Posh says, "8 net successes. Rating 4 SIN for Blackheart."

"Oh," Scurry says, nodding. "Okay. The other option we have is this: We pretend you are a high-rolling client looking to spend megabucks. I am your escort detail. That way, I can go in with magic up, you can minimally alter your appearance, and while we're receiving our consultation visit, we knock out the consultant and begin our infiltration." He glances between Lost and Blackheart. "And that would position BLackheart to deal with any resistance from behind as an unexpected visitor."

«Plot» Posh says, "Will duplicate this in a queue, I suppose!"

«Plot» Posh says, "Fresh Rating 4 SIN delivered for plot value, 8k nuyen. That cool with you, Blackheart?"
«Plot» Blackheart says, "That's an awesome deal!"
«Plot» Scurry is more than happy to spot Blackheart.
«Plot» Posh says, "Just to consent it being removed from your reward. However you keep it."
«Plot» Posh says, "Don't spend any money now or anything"
«OOC» Blackheart says, "okay"
«Plot» Posh says, "Let the staff decide if this is cool"

Posh sets down her pocsec. "All right," she says, turning to Blackheart. "Your name is Mackenzee Rojas, delivery girl extraordinaire. It's your dream to run the greatest delivery service in the city, delivering pyrogies and jiaozi at the precise temperatures at nearly illegal speeds," she says. "This one'll actually hold up - you'll be able to get a business license on her and everything. You should be good to go in just two hours." She grins. "How's that sound?" she asks.

"Well, the pyrogies will be cold by then," Blackheart winks. "I guess Mackenzee will have to work on her methods," she grins, and shrugs. "On the plus side, that operation will probably be over by the time we go in, so we won't have to worry about the patient dying on us."
Posh nods to Blackheart. "That's true, though," she says, glancing to Lost and Scurry. "You two got any hoodoo that might help keep some pyerogies warm while we wait for Mackenziee to be born into this world?" she asks.

"Actually, that might sell it a little better!" Lost considers, taking a moment to mull the thought over pierogies for a moment, "You might not expect a start up delivery company to get things right every time, after all. If it leads to an argument, that's not the end of the world as long as it doesn't end in security getting called or guns being drawn." Looking to Posh, she shakes her head, "Sadly, no."
"See, everything we mundanes say about magic is true. You can't even keep a pyrogie warm, just make people orgasm or kill them." Posh sideyes at Lost. "Witches." She smirks, and then turns back to Scurry and Blackheart. "Well, I needed to load up gel anyway. We can keep the pyrogies warm at home," she says. "I'll see you in a couple hours."

Blackheart nods her head and looks up at the sky. "Should we do this tomorrow night? It's getting pretty late in the morning," she says as Posh mentions heading home. "Now that we know the layout, it should be a breeze."

"I feel like I could design a "keep warm" spell," Scurry says offhandedly to Lost and Blackheart, after considering the accusation. "It would only be within an area of space that required constant temperature, right? That's simply flux through three-d."

"I don't need magic for that." Lost replies with mock indignation, turning to inspect a nonexistent speck of dust on her left shoulder, brushing it off casually before continuing, "Of course, killing isn't really my style." Laughing softly, she winks at Posh before nodding, glancing to Scurry with a grin, "Sure. Should be simple enough, but it'd take more time than we have to design and learn the spell."

"Again, I could just stun the entire staff and crew," Scurry adds. "What are the pyrogies actually cover for?"

Posh grins at Blackheart. "That sounds good," she says, nodding to Scurry as well.

And so Posh, with gel loaded into her arms, Blackheart, with her ceramic stealth SMGs, and Scurry and Lost with their earth elementals a-waitin, return with warm pyrogies to the commercial complex where the clinic is contained.

With the plan in hand, Posh gives a grin to Blackheart, and then turns to Lost and Scurry. "So," she says. "Since I'm connected to Tamron and might flag someone, I can't really be front and center," she says. Indeed, she's disguised to be a little muted down, less memorable, with a hood and her fiberoptic hair set to 'mousy brown.' "So that means you'll be on conversational point on this one, Scurry," she says, with a wink to Blackheart. "Good luck 'round the back. I'd offer one of those nicely reheated pyrogies to the guard," she says, glancing to make sure those ceramic XSGs are well-hidden. Posh grins at Scurry. "Blackheart's guns."

"Ultimately, that's probably what will end up happening," Lost says to Scurry, "We just want to hit them from both sides so we can deal with the staff quickly, and make sure no one nearby hears anything is amiss. If we can do that, we should be able to stroll right out of the place without any trouble. Blackheart gets to the backdoor, guns concealed in the pierogies, and once we have the front secured, we hit the clinic at the same time." She nods, reiterating the plan, "Should be easy. Emphasis on should be."

It's late again at the commercial complex. There's once again the sort of low-grade, night traffic in the area. Blackheart can see the bored but well-equipped guards at the entrance to the commercial access as she heads around that way. The bored looking female ork is working the desk of the clinic again, as Posh, Lost, and Scurry enter its vicinity, on the concourse across.

Dressed in her rather mousy disguise, Posh glances expectantly at Scurry and Lost. "Well, you guys said there was a…a sort of ward thing, right? Across the door? So you have to get in there to work your magic, right?" she asks.

«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Disguise:

1 3 3 11

«Plot» Posh says, "To clarify, the guns are concealed under enough pierogies"

"It would not pass the door, no," Scurry says, shaking his head. "Unless we went astral and really tried to pierce through, which would likely shatter it. Or we could go in through the back door."
Posh's eyes show understanding and she dips her head in agreement with Scurry. "I see," she says. "What about just…talking our way in?" she asks. "I could give either of you some sort of horrible knife and you could shiv me, or something. I'm the one who doesn't have to do complex mumbo-jumbo, after all."

"Or we could just fake a terrible injury from internal hemmoraging?" Scurry asks, glancing between the group. "And just carry you in as our concerned friend?"
With the plan set, Blackheart walks casually towards the guards round back, dressed up in her delivery chic outfit—baseball cap, brown hair in a pony tail, a dark blue hoodie and some jeans, with her brand spankin new delivery ID on a lanyard around her neck. "hey, there. Got a delivery here," she says, nodding to her large paper bag filled with little tinfoil bowls of pyrogies. "3…. C?" she clarifies, checking the receipt stapled to the bag. "That's just this way, right?"

As Blackheart approaches the service corridor, there's a number of bored guards there. They see the delivery uniform, glance at the bag, and one of them sniffs the air. "Doesn't smell bad," he rumbles after a moment, considering Blackheart for a moment. "3C, huh?" he asks. "Do you mean Three-Charlie?" he asks, looking back at her.

«Plot» Posh says, "TN 4. -1 bonus for pierogies."
«Plot» Posh says, "Final TN 3."

Scurry has been nominated as the one doing the talking, so Lost plans to play off him in support, "We can walk right past the front door. I'm sure they get plenty of outpatient clients. So, we walk in, chat with the ork about some cosmetic procedure, stunbolt her, and then once Blackheart is in position at the back, we move in. Once the staff is taken care of, it's smashy time!" She nods firmly, "Seems easy enough." Over comms, she subvocalizes « Let us know when you're at the backdoor, BH. »
«Auto-Judge[]» Blackheart (#12120) rolls Etiquette vs TN 3:
2 3 = 1 Success
"Three Charlie?" Blackheart asks, looking at the guard, giving an indifferent shrug. "Maybe? C stands for charlie, right? I don't know, I'm not in the army," she explains and looks past the guard for some location type sign. "Is it down this way?"

Perhaps the man was trying to catch Blackheart out or something, but she manages to pull off an appropriately confused but not very nervous act. It's just basic testing technique - apply a tiny bit of pressure, see if someone changes their demeanor.

In any case, the guard just waves Blackheart through after a moment of consideration, and saying 'Can I have one?'

Posh grins back at Lost and Scurry. "It seems like…managing to actually get inside the clinic would give us a little more lead time, since you usually have to wait for ages to see a doc, right?" she asks. "So if we can talk our way all the way in, that'll buy us more time than if we just knock out the front desk gal."

"But we don't want Front Desk Gal calling the police," Scurry says. "She has a phone and will freak out first," He points out.

Blackheart nods as the guard waves her past, at his question, she looks apologetic, "Sorry, I'd lose my job if a customer compalined that someone was nibbling on their order," with that, she continues down the corridor to the elevator and goes up to the level. «Just about there» she whipsers quietly over the comlink, glancing at the different doors in the concrete hall as she moves. «Okay, here we are.»

Lost turns toward Posh, blinking. "I'm surprised I didn't think of that…" She says, shaking her head before turning to Scurry. She worries at her bottom lip thoughtfully for a moment, "Hmm…" Then, a devilish grin creeps across her features, "I have an idea. If we don't want to alert the girl out front, we cook up some story about wanting a ridiculous procedure… we go in asking if the docs will make some kind of three person conjoined not-triplet out of us. If she buys it, we're all past the door, and then we walk out, and she just thinks we chickened out or whatever. In any case, all we gotta do is walk in that door and get her talking for long enough for her guard to drop. Scurry, since you're doing the talking, it's your call, what do you feel more comfortable with?"

"That's it," Scurry says, snapping his fingers. "We're 'vid stars looking for enhancements that need to match for our next series: "Aliens: The Whole Hole". That gets Posh through, we return and stun her while Posh rejoins Blackheart and we get to pick up anyone from behind. I'm totally comfortable talking my way through anything."

Blackheart nods as the guard waves her past, at his question, she looks apologetic, "Sorry, I'd lose my job if a customer compalined that someone was nibbling on their order," with that, she continues down the corridor to the elevator and goes up to the level. «Just about there» she whipsers quietly over the comlink, glancing at the different doors in the concrete hall as she moves. «Okay, here we are.»

Lost turns toward Posh, blinking. "I'm surprised I didn't think of that…" She says, shaking her head before turning to Scurry. She worries at her bottom lip thoughtfully for a moment, "Hmm…" Then, a devilish grin creeps across her features, "I have an idea. If we don't want to alert the girl out front, we cook up some story about wanting a ridiculous procedure… we go in asking if the docs will make some kind of three person conjoined not-triplet out of us. If she buys it, we're all past the door, and then we walk out, and she just thinks we chickened out or whatever. In any case, all we gotta do is walk in that door and get her talking for long enough for her guard to drop. Scurry, since you're doing the talking, it's your call, what do you feel more comfortable with?"

"That's it," Scurry says, snapping his fingers. "We're 'vid stars looking for enhancements that need to match for our next series: "Aliens: The Whole Hole". That gets Posh through, we return and stun her while Posh rejoins Blackheart and we get to pick up anyone from behind. I'm totally comfortable talking my way through anything."

Posh peers at Scurry. "It's 2075. Who doesn't have a pocsec?" she asks, nodding to Lost…and then to Scurry. "I see," she says. "Aliens, the Whole Hole?" she asks, almost rhetorically. "Well," she says. "I suppose it's not like I can disgrace myself any further. Let's have at it then, Trent Titan," she says. "That's your new simstar name. I've got more if you like."
Scurry nods and then heads out to the clinic.

Commlink-Blackheart> Blackheart sends, « I'm in position, let me know when it's time to go »
Lost has a quiet giggle at Scurry's pornstar name, then apparently starts to worry about what Posh might come up with for her. So she clams up and follows scurry.

The bored woman sitting at the desk glances up as the trio of keebs enters - not a usual clientele for the clinic. She gives the three a 'this should be good' look. "Welcome to Advantage Wellness, an Omni affiliate," she mutters, as if it's some sort of required mantra.

Round back, Blackheart is free from attention for the moment, but she likely can't hang out for too long. There's a grizzled type apparently guarding the back of the clinic - not in uniform, just a hired thug, it looks like, with a shotgun it seems. Given the twitch he's working as he smokes he's running extreme but cheap boosted 'flexes or something along those lines

"Hiiiiiii," Scurry says. A single word, a tilt of his head, and a brilliant smile. "I'm Trent Titan, and these are my colleagues. Sweetpea" Lost, "And Greta Masterson. But you probably know her as the Speed Queen," He says. His million-watt smile never wavers, not even as he leans against the counter and closes the distance between himself and the bored secretary. "Now, we need to see a professional about some surgery for our upcoming film. Aliens, the Whole Hole?" He asks, as if EVERYBODY knows. "The company credit card for the simsense augmentation is hot to burn and" He looks at the nameplate— "Trent Titan believes in swiping while the slot's hot. Can you squeeze us in?"

Lost doesn't say anything, merely striking a distinterested pose as she glances about the clinic in an attempt to hide her disdain for her surroundings, a creature that exists not to live, in the way most people do, but to be exploited whenever there is a camera rolling, as if every second of life were spliced together into a series of insipid fashion commercials. And porn.

Posh gives a vapid look to try to support Scurry's argument. "Yeah! Squeeze me," she suggests, looking as vacant as possible.
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Etiquette vs TN 5:
2 3 4 5 7 20 = 3 Successes

The woman widens her eyes as she looks at the three elves. Then again - it *is* a rather perfect explanation for why three elves might be in this dingy clinic - wannabe simsense stars. She chuckles a little bit, shaking her head. "Well," she says. "The gals down at the co-op are sure gonna like this one," she says. "But we're all full up for a while," she says. "You can have a seat and wait out here, but…" She shrugs. "Maybe it'll be a few hours? Not before morning, likely."

Blackheart grimaces as she spots the twitchy ork loitering by the door. She sighs and hangs back a little bit, hoping his cheap cigarettes will cover the aroma of pyrogies filling the hallway while she waits for the go signal.

«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Negotiation (Fast Talk) vs TN 6:
1 2 4 4 9 = 1 Success

"Listen, filming starts tomorrow, and I gotta get in," Scurry says, leaning forward. "You uh… You think maybe you could help me get in?" He smiles, as if this were his idea of charming. "Passion Vids pays a lot more than this, and we're always in need of a good set coordinator. You get me in, and I get you in. Pays a lot better than this."

Since the ork chica seems to be buying the act, Lost does her best to keep it up. But she's too busy preening for a camera that isn't there to verbally at to Scurry's case. And occasionally, she looks back to Posh, staring daggers, just for effect.

The ork grins. "Just send me some advance copies. I've got a reasonably good gig here," she says. "But I appreciate the tip. You know, I might instead send a friend of mine," she says. "Since you were willing to get me /hired/ without even wondering about my qualifications, well…hey, you can get my stupid roommate a job, right?" she asks.

Posh drools a little, keeping up her act. "Woommates!" she exclaims.

Commlink-Posh> Posh sends, « How's it looking back there, Blackheart? Any oppo? »

Commlink-Blackheart> Blackheart sends, « One guard, I could probably take him quitely and use his key to get in. »

"Nah. We may not be at the top of the ladder, lady, but we aren't stupid," Scurry says gently, his smile softening. "Nobody keeps a job here without good bona fides. Dignity and both, yo? But if you vouch for her, send over the info and I'll see what I can do."

There is a tense moment where it looks as if Lost is going to whirl herself into a series of catty slaps. Likely aimed at Posh, but if Scurry blunders too close… The look of sudden, irrational anger passes after a moment, she collects herself, and ends up crossing her arms and looking pissed off at anything unfortunate to be within her field of view.

She seems to wait for a moment, but the deliciously sinful world that Scurry had spun and participating in it was a little too much for her. "All right, all right, I'll slip the VIP tag on your appointment and assign you an operatory. The doc will be in at some point," she says. "Go straight to operatory B. Don't annoy the security or make them look at you funny. And don't make me regret this."

Meanwhile a drop of Posh's drool hits the floor. Her eyes flick to Lost for a second.

Commlink-Posh> Posh sends, « Don't forget the clean-up spell. »
Scurry smiles impishly. "Thank you," He says. "I really appreciate it." "Girls," He says, his tone changing to one tempered by exhaustion. "Come on, let's get this done. We gotta rehab before tomorrow, you know how much this hurts." He passes out the VIP badges.

Lost continues to look annoyed with everything in existence for benefit of the ork receptionist. Once past the door and out of sight of the ork, she drops the act and nods to Posh, « We'll get it on the way out… hopefully Miss Starry Eyes there won't notice the spell being cast. » She subvocalizes, just to be safe. « Probably won't be able to get away with any poking around back here, so if we see security, stun on sight. »

The ork lady had waved you into the hallway past the door. Across the hallway is a door simply marked 'B,' there's a gruff looking guard with an Uzi III watching, and other doors in the immediate vicinity. Having given the instructions from the orkette, Posh opens the door, giving a second for everyone to get into the rather nondescript, spartan examining room, with a couple hard chairs and an old examination bed. Really more of a table.

«Auto-Judge[]» Blackheart (#12120) rolls Sorcery + 2 vs TN 5 for "Stunbolt F4S BG count 1":
3 3 5 5 8 8 9 9 11 = 7 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Blackheart (#12120) rolls Willpower + 3 vs TN 2 for "soaking S drain Need 6!":
2 3 3 4 5 5 7 7 8 = 9 Successes

Blackheart gives the other group a couple of minutes and when she starts hearing the chatter over the comlink, she leans around the corner and looks at the twitchy ork, "Nighty night, bunny rabbit," she whispers quietly as the guard's eyelids grow heavier and heavier until… Yes, it's safe to catch a couple winks, nobody's watching aftera..

Blackheart manages to suddenly drop the guard outside the back door; a quick rummaging of his gear suggests that he's got a keycard and a commlink, which is already crackling with alerts - it's a clinic after all, the guards are clearly hooked to biomonitors.

Posh glances up as she, as well as the others in the operatory, easily hear the heavy thump of boots out the door. "Get started on the casting," she says. "Come in for support once this is done." And she's headed for the door as well, reaching to open it, though Lost and Scurry have time to act before she can.

"Ok, so now we're in." Lost muses after finally dropping the act that got her through the reception. I only had eyes on the one guard outside the door, but I'm sure there are more." She glances toward Scurry, "So, what do you think, hit the one outside and keep working from there? From the sound of things…" She continues, referring to the bootfalls, "They're already aware something is amiss. So… we should work quickly."

"O-kay," Scurry says, glancing between Posh and Lost. "We gotta get to Bheart before things get ugly. I wish we could get a doctor, we could do the ol' stun'n'run. I take his face and place, or you take hers, and we work to the end. Either way, we go now. Posh?"

Posh nods to Lost and Scurry. "All right," she says. "We're clearing then summoning, then? Meet up with Blackheart first? All right, cover me." She then reaches for the door and yanks it, pulling herself through in a smooth motion.
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 3 for "+10":
1 4 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 3 for "+8":
1 2 2
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 3 for "+6":
2 2 4
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Initiative with a result of 18.
«Auto-Judge[]» Blackheart (#12120) rolls Initiative with a result of 23.
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Initiative with a result of 10.
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Initiative with a result of 6.

Blackheart finishes rifling through the guard for the keypass to the backdoor. Getting up, she gets ready to give it a swipe. «I'm ready for the backdoor, guard's comlink seems kind of busy at the moment..»
As Posh bursts through the door, the guards look like they'rs ready, weapons raised. One of them, clearly a twitcher with more boosted 'flexes, glances up to his teammate who's coming out of Operatory A, perhaps used as a waiting room. He's also got a subgun. With the guy waiting by the back door, that's a third. «Bloody! Blackheart, we need you!»

«Plot» Posh says, "Simple action to open the door. You then have a simple action you can use for a quickdraw twin burst, but you can't open the door and cast a spell, that's too many actions. You can have an unobstructed shot on the back door guard, or you can get in a shot at the guy raising his gun first at +2 TN. The shot after mods is TN 5, including all of his cover and stuff. So TN 5 or 7."

<Plot» Posh says, "Or you can do something else. XD"

Hearing the need for help coming over the comlink, Blackheart quickly swipes the keycard and kicks open the door. She spots a guard right there. and acks, quickly diving for cover before the ork can turn and fill her with hot lead!!

The door is opened, but neither guard is interdicted. Posh is the first target that the three guards saw, so with all of them still up, it's time to put some focus fire to work!

«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 4 + 4 vs TN 4 for "SMGs vs Posh (10S burst)":
1 1 2 4 4 4 5 7 = 5 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 4 + 4 vs TN 4 for "SMGs vs Posh (10S burst)":
1 1 1 2 2 2 8 9 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 4 + 4 vs TN 4 for "SMGs vs Posh (10S burst)":
1 2 2 5 5 9 14 14 = 5 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 4 + 4 vs TN 4 for "SMGs vs Posh (10S burst)":
2 3 3 5 5 5 9 10 = 5 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 4 + 4 vs TN 4 for "SMGs vs Posh (10S burst)":
1 2 2 2 3 5 5 7 = 3 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 4 + 4 vs TN 4 for "SMGs vs Posh (10S burst)":
2 3 4 5 5 5 5 5 = 6 Successes

«Plot» Posh says, "First shot: 5 successes, 10D+1. With 6 ballistic armor and 10 successes, Posh soaks the first shot down to…uh…8 at D, 6 at S, 4 at M, 2 at L, and uh…fully soaked?"
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Combat Pool: 4 vs TN 4 for "Posh attempts to dodge the second shot":
1 2 5 8 = 2 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Combat Pool: 4 - 2 vs TN 4 for "Posh attempts to dodge the second shot (KP 2 spent)":
1 11 = 1 Success

«Plot» Posh says, "Second shot dodged. TN was actually 5 from burst, but it was all hit anyway!"

«Plot» Blackheart says, "don't you just need the 2 successes?"

«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Body + Combat Pool: 1 vs TN 4 for "Soaking 5 success 3rd shot":
1 1 1 3 3 4 4 5 5 11 = 5 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Body + Combat Pool: 1 - 5 vs TN 4 for "Soaking 5 success 3rd shot (3 kp spent total)":
1 1 3 7 11 = 2 Successes

«Plot» Posh says, "I take M on that one."
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Body + Combat Pool: 1 vs TN 4 for "vs 5 success 4th shot":
1 1 2 3 4 4 4 5 7 8 = 6 Successes

«Plot» Posh says, "I take M again. 6 boxes total."
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Body + Combat Pool: 1 vs TN 4 for "5th shot, 3 successes":
1 1 3 3 3 4 5 5 11 13 = 5 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Body + Combat Pool: 1 - 5 vs TN 4 for "5th shot, 3 successes (4 KP spent total)":
2 2 2 4 11 = 2 Successes

«Plot» Posh says, "I take L."
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Body + 1 vs TN 4 for "6th shot, 6 successes":
1 2 3 3 3 4 4 5 5 11 = 5 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls Body + 1 - 5 vs TN 4 for "6th shot, 6 successes (5 kp spent)":
2 3 4 11 16 = 3 Successes

«Plot» Posh says, "M taken. 9 boxes total. :)"
«Plot» Posh says, "Oh wait! Nope, that's 10. Posh goes doooown!"

The enemies certainly have their basic strategy down, as they manage to riddle the rather foolish, and not tiny, form of the brave Posh with bullets, who crumples in a pained heap, still surprisingly intact given the damage that she'd sustained. She's barely conscious at that point, grunting with the sucking agony for a moment, contemplating whether now would be worthwhile to kick in that Nitro or if that would just invite more of the badness.

«Plot» Posh says, "Lost! Scurry! You're up. :)"
«Plot» Lost will stunball the two closest mooks.
«Plot» Posh says, "Roll them bones! And pose it."
«Plot» Lost says, "BG count of 1?"
«Plot» Posh says, "Yup."

«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Sorcery + Spell Pool: 3 for "F6 Stunball Moderate damage":
1 1 2 3 4 4 4 5 7
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Willpower + Spell Pool: 3 vs TN 3 for "Soaking S stun, need 6 suxx.":
2 3 3 4 4 5 7 8 9 = 8 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Sorcery + Spell Pool: 1 vs TN 5 for "F6 Stunball Moderate damage KP1":
2 2 2 3 4 5 7 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Willpower + Spell Pool: 3 vs TN 3 for "Soaking S stun, need 6 suxx.":
2 3 3 4 4 5 7 8 9 = 8 Successes

«Plot» Lost says, "Stand at 4 suxx."
Two of the men who'd managed to gun down Posh find Lost massaging the insides of their brains far too much for them, leaving the one with a smoking barrel - indeed, the one whose burst had clipped Posh - left to face Scurry's wrath.

«Plot» Scurry says, "What's the WP of the last man standing? :D"
ooc So she just takes a…uh…Serious Stun?
«OOC» Posh says, "So she just takes a…uh…Serious Stun?"

«Plot» Posh says, "5."
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Sorcery + 5 vs TN 6 for "F3 D damage stunbolt on last standing Goon":
2 2 2 4 4 5 5 5 5 5 5 7 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Sorcery + 5 - 1 vs TN 6 for "F3 D damage stunbolt on last standing Goon KP1":
1 2 2 3 3 4 4 5 5 11 11 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Sorcery + 5 - 3 vs TN 6 for "F3 D damage stunbolt on last standing Goon KP2":
2 2 2 3 4 4 4 8 9 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Centering vs TN 2:
1 4 14 = 2 Successes

«OOC» Scurry cackles! No stun!
Posh whimpers in agony on the ground as she's caught in the stunball. Fortunately a stunning wound does little practical damage, though it does earn the elven sorceress an, "Et…tu…Loste?" The guard that had gunned down Posh gets to enjoy his eyes rolling up into his head as Scurry's directed agony pervades him - he'll live, but he won't have the nicest dreams for the next decade.
"You fools!" of course, screams a snarl, as the rather haggard, John Lennon bespectacled form of the doctor bursts out of the operatory, the savage form of what must be his spirit following him. Seems like our doctor's his own magical treatment - and it's anyone's guess what's in that dart pistol the tall, crazed looking sawbones is packing.

«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 2 for "+4 Doc":
5 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 1 for "+18 Spirit":
2

Lost doesn't like firefights. And she certainly doesn't like watching people get gunned down in front of her. So, after cowering a bit from the lead ripping through the air, she ducks out just long enough to hurl a big, blue ball of magical energy in the general direction of the douchebags shooting at her and the rest of the group. There's just enough energy in the spell that it knocks two of the guards out, but the blast unfortunately hit Posh as well. She winces, shooting a meaningful, apologetic glance in Posh's direction.
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Initiative with a result of 7.
"Look around, everywhere you turn there's heartache!" Scurry says, in Latin, slamming his palm in the direction of the final man standing.
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Initiative with a result of 9.
«Auto-Judge[]» Blackheart (#12120) rolls Initiative with a result of 15.

============================> Initiative Listing <=============================
Combatant Name…………….. P1(B) P2(-10) P3(-20) P4(-30) P5(-40)
Spirit……………………. 20 10 — — —
Blackheart………………… 15 5 — — —
Doc………………………. 14 4 — — —
Scurry……………………. 9 — — — —

The watery spirit unleashes a gout of apparent water, assuming that it'll be easy to sweep Lost and Scurry off their feet, setting them up for strategic dispatching by the evil doctor! Or at least, the doctor that Posh's friend doesn't like!

«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 4 + 4 vs TN 4:
1 2 2 3 4 5 5 11 = 4 Successes

Reaching down into the paper bag that holds her XMGs, Blackheart hits the little button that quickly unfolds them as she leans around the corner. "Drop the pistol and call off the spirit, scumbag!" she says, zeroing in on the crazed doctor, "We didn't come here to kill, but I'm quickly changing my mind!"

«Auto-Judge[]» Blackheart (#12120) rolls Negotiation for "Blackheart is very intimidating!":
1
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 3 + 3 vs TN 5 for "combat pool vs Blackheart":
2 4 4 4 5 14 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 3 + 3 - 2 vs TN 5 for "combat pool vs Blackheart KP 1":
1 1 3 8 = 1 Success

The doctor just begins to laugh and turns with his dart pistol to try to aim a shot towards Blackheart. "You fools, you'll never succeed against Doctor Dervish!" Perhaps the assault has sent him into a new level of unhingedness, but whatever's in that dart pistol doesn't look healthy.

«Auto-Judge[]» Blackheart (#12120) rolls Combat Pool: 5 vs TN 4 for "dodgE":
1 3 5 9 10 = 3 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Blackheart (#12120) rolls 2 vs TN 4:
3 4 = 1 Success
«Plot» Blackheart says, "1 kp used"
«Plot» Scurry says, "What is Herr Doktor's WP? :D"

The little boogie dangling from the tip of Blackheart's nose greatly diminished the effectiveness of the threat, to the point that even two submachineguns only got a chuckle out of the crazy doctor. As he draws a bead on her, Blackheart's eyes go wide, and she 23 skidoos back behind the wall, with the dart nailing into the wall right where her head would have been!
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Sorcery + 5 for "F3 Stunbolt D damage on Doctor":
1 1 2 2 3 5 5 5 5 8 8 11
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Centering:
5 5 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Centering:
5 5 5
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Willpower + 1 vs TN 2:
1 2 3 4 5 5 10 = 6 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Centering vs TN 2:
1 1 1 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Centering vs TN 2 for "KP1":
1 1 1 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Centering vs TN 2 for "KP2":
2 4 4 = 3 Successes

Though the Doctor's aim with his pistol had been interdicted, he soon joins the corpses on the floor, getting all sticky in Poshblood, which appears to be the clinic hallway's new decoration. The spirit roars in rage as he sees his comrade taken down just like the guards.

«Plot» Posh says, "Lost! Then Blackheart!"
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Conjuring vs TN 4 for "Away foul spirit!":
2 3 3 3 4 8 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls 4 vs TN 4 for "Away foul spirit! KP2":
1 1 2 3 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls 4 vs TN 4 for "Away foul spirit! KP4":
1 1 1 2 = 0 Successes
«OOC» Lost mutters.
«Auto-Judge[]» Blackheart (#12120) rolls Conjuring vs TN 4 for "Sod off you watery wanker!":
1 1 1 5 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Blackheart (#12120) rolls Conjuring - 1 vs TN 4 for "No really bruv, sod off! KP2":
3 4 5 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Conjuring vs TN 4 for "No Spirit can withstand a deluge from Trent Titan!":
1 3 5 8 = 2 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Centering vs TN 4:
3 3 10 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 4 vs TN 7:
1 2 4 10 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 4 vs TN 8 for "vs scurry":
1 3 5 7 = 0 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Posh (#11342) rolls 4 vs TN 5 for "Blackheart":
1 4 4 5 = 1 Success
The spirit screams unimaginable, otherworldly curses at you all, and seems to disappear now, leaving nothing but the three magicians, the bleeding cyberchick, and the unconscious doc and his guards with the clinic. There seems to be no sign of the orkette out front; perhaps she decided that a change in employment was in the offing and decided to be proactive.
Blackheart gives one of the guards a good kick to the teeth as before she runs over to see if Posh is okay. "Oh, jesus, Posh!" she says, searhing the elf's body for the source of all the blood. "Fucking fucking fuck!" she grimaces, "Please tell me one of you has a good healing spell, or knows a good doctor that's on call!"
"I can heal her. But first, one of you scour the offices for a medkit to take care of her before I apply healing. I have another emergency we have to solve," Scurry says. Turning, he rubs his hands on the watery surface, and peers at his expression. "Narcissus stared at the beauty before him, illuminated by the golden background of a sun from another world, another world where only that perfection would shine…"
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Centering vs TN 6:
2 2 10 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Sorcery + 5 vs TN 6 for "Disguise Self as Herr Doktor.":
1 1 1 1 1 2 2 2 2 2 3 17 = 1 Success
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Sorcery + 5 - 1 vs TN 6 for "Disguise Self as Herr Doktor. KP1":
1 2 2 2 3 4 4 4 8 8 9 = 3 Successes

Lost mutters to herself in what sounds like Sperethiel for a few moments after it seems like the danger has passed. Snapping out of her stream of curses, she takes stock of the situation. "Ok. Well, it's a good thing we're in a clinic." She says darkly before starting to scrounge around. "Blackheart, can you make sure we don't have any more company? Scurry, when you're ready, get the elementals on this plane of existence and let's commence the smashing. I'll clean up the blood, and then we can boogie."

«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Willpower + 1 vs TN 2 for "Resisting +1L Drain":
1 1 3 3 5 5 5 = 5 Successes
Blackheart nods her head as she gets up while Scurry takes over the doctoring, and she starts kicking down doors to make sure the clinic is clear of any new threats. Once the coast is clear, she begins working on cleaning up the magical residue left on the guards and doctor.
Scurry gazes longingly into his own reflection before waving his hand over the pool of water. In its passing, a ripple over the surface reveals the doctor's exact identity. Straightening up in his disguise,

Scurry moves to poke his head out of the door.

"Hey," He says to the secretary. "Did you send… Trent Titan ahead of schedule?" He does not wait for her to respond. "Look, it's no problem. But we were attacked by some goons calling themselves the Cult of Horus. Our guards took care of it. But it turns out Titan's the real deal, and I /do not want them to sue/," Scurry says, in no uncertain terms. "Nothing serious in back, but we need to clean up. Cancel all my appointments for the rest of the day." And so saying, he closes the door behind him.
«Plot» Scurry says, "Miss POsh! Do I find any savior medkits?"

The secretary seems to be long gone, in this case. Maybe she heard the gunfire inside.

«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Sorcery + 3 vs TN 5 for "F4 Sterilize each suxx = +2 to TN to rolls made to identify biomaterial.":
1 1 3 3 4 4 5 5 9 = 3 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Biotech vs TN 4 for "Savior MEdkit on Posh":
3 4 11 11 = 3 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Lost (#4658) rolls Willpower + Spell Pool: 3 vs TN 3 for "Need 4suxx to soak M stun.":
2 2 3 3 4 5 5 9 11 = 7 Successes
think IDLE
IDLE
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Sorcery + 4 vs TN 4 for "Heal on Posh":
1 1 1 2 2 3 4 4 5 10 11 = 5 Successes
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Sorcery + 4 vs TN 4 for "Heal on PoshKP1":
1 1 2 2 3 3 4 4 4 5 8 = 5 Successes
Blackheart has disconnected.
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Willpower + 3 vs TN 3:
2 2 2 4 4 4 7 8 9 = 6 Successes
«Plot» Scurry says, "Full soak, standing."

«Plot» Scurry says, "Posh ought to be in perfect condition."

Scurry immediately works on Posh as the blood around them vanishes. He first applies the savior medkit, and then immediately after chants in Latin while drawing his hand across her body from crown to groin chakra. Wearily, he stands up and dusts himself off. "Okay, the elementals," He says.
Scurry eyes Posh critically, one hand on his hip. He reaches into a pocket, pulls out a fist full of what turns out to be glitter, and blows it over Posh.

«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Centering vs TN 6:
2 4 4 = 0 Successes

«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) rolls Sorcery + 5 vs TN 6 for "Makeover on Posh":
1 2 2 3 3 4 4 4 5 9 10 11 = 3 Successes

«Plot» Scurry says, "Posh's style didn't change, but she just received a makeover so extensive, even her teeth are plaque free. Perfect makeup. Perfect hair. Manicured nails, toes. Skin clean as if she had been to a spa."

«Plot» Scurry says, "It's really the least we can do for, you know, letting you take 6+ rounds of
submachine gun fire."

After a moment surveying the area, Lost works a bit of finger wiggling to clean up the blood and drool on the floor faster than the world's greatest janitor. Seeming pleased with her work, she turns back to gauge Scurry's progress on Posh, "Nice work!" She compliments Scurry, winking at Posh, "Why do you always seem to get yourself shot up? I'm starting to think you enjoy it." Grinning, she focuses briefly, calling one of her elementals into action. It takes a few moments, but eventually there's a rumbling of stone on stone as a big, block of living rock coalesces in the clinic. Glancing toward Boulder, Lost nods, "See all this fancy medical equipment?" The elemental nods after looking around impassively, "Smash it. All of it." Lost commands. With only the grumble of its stone body, it lumbers off to do the dark-haired elf's bidding, punching and kicking at the equipment, as if the act were mere drudgery rather than the destruction of some fairly expensive property.
«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) uses 1 of item 1: Earth 1 (Earth Elemental with 3 KP @ Force 2) Services from Elemental Coalition (#1705).

«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) uses 1 of item 2: F4 Air Elemental Services from Elemental Coalition (#1705).

«Auto-Judge[]» Scurry (#1304) uses 1 of item 1: Earth 3 (Earth Elemental with 3 KP @ Force 2) Services from Elemental Coalition (#1705).

Scurry stifles a yawn while Lost and his elementals go at it. "Well," he says, nudging the unconscious form of the Doc with his toe. "He'll sure have a lot of explaining to do!" And he helps the others take the still groggy form of Posh on out of there, now that things are well sterilized.

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