IC: Bleeding Edge Options

[last_of_the_grea...]

Mickey answers Ricks as he walks along. "YOu know magic better than I. I trust your judgement...but if they can notice gang colours, that would be a plus."

[Grey]

Ricks whispers to the astral, telling the two Watchers to look for groups of three or more people. If they are wearing similar colors, they should report that as well.

[Digital Heroin]

Once he's sure the key points to the building are secured, Blitz goes to find himself a room on the second floor, facing the streetfront. He rests the squad car door on the wall beside the window, where it'll be handy in case of firefight. Next to it he props up the shotgun, and he sets the Thunderbolts on the floor in front of it. For a guy who doesn't use weapons beyond a chain, he's asembled a small arsenal. Times change, venues change, Trogs need to change too.

When he's laid out everything, Blitz drops his duffel and the fridge down by the bed, and sits on the edge of it. Only then does he take some time to unwrap the dressing he'd rigged up, to check the gutwound. He grunts as he pokes a meaty finger into it, no concern for what he's been touching before. Thing's still in there, feels a little odd. He's heard it's only real bad when things go cold down there though, and it's not really cold. Feels more like he pissed himself. Then again that's the blood soaking his jeans. He considers a long moment. He's got to be strong for these guys, but he's got a gut full of lead. Won't do to be advertising. He stands slowly, wincing at the pain, and he heads to the door of his room.

`Anyone got booze wit 'em?`

It's inevitable, gangers don't abandon good booze. So the first guy to answer, someone he's never seen before, he calls over. He pulls the guy -litterally, by the arm- into the room, and puts finger to mouth.

`This don't be told to no one but you an me.`

He indicates his bloodied gut, and slumps onto the bed.

`Need you to find me a doc. Someone who can get this bullet out of me. Fragger got in a lucky shot before I crushed 'is throat. Got it?`

He waves the guy off, hoping he keeps his mouth shut and just gets a doc. He's too tired to re-enforce the order with some threat. Instead, when the guy goes, Blitz just lies back and closes his eyes.

[Large Mike]

The building, at first glance abandoned, is actually far from it. No one harrasses Blitz and his crew as the wander in, nice as you please, pick out a spot, and hunker down, but there are several dozen sets of eyes, mostly squatters and junkies, looking at them. The first floor and the second floor share a giant hole between them, leaving only the outer rooms safe, and making the hallways surrounding them balconies with no railing. There are stairs, but you shouldn't trust them. There is, however, an easily climbable stack of crates allowing for access to the second floor. Here, in one of the far corners, two chipheads lay, open chip cases scattered around their blanket-covered bodies. One of them stirs momentarily, the female, to poke the other, saying that they should probably go get some food. The male shrugs and falls back into chip-induced sleep.

The third floor, after a quick recon, is taken up by a half-dozen dysfunctional families. At any given time, two of them are in a screaming match. The kids of these families, different races and ethnenticities, are playing in the halls. At least, they do until the father of one of them notices, backhands his child for associating with "those damn fruity daisy-eatin' point-ears" or "one of those damn ugly, lazy, dirty trogs. You don't know where they been".

The fourth level is all open, with all the walls having been demolished at some point, to varying degrees. There are men, women, children, and everything in between laying about on scavenged furniture, or soiled mattresses, watching jury-rigged trid, or playing cribbage at the one actual table. Off in the corner, there's a kitchenette piled with week-old and broken dishes, and there's three pots of water boiling on the stove, and only one of them is to make food. There is a toilet, a tub, and a sink in one corner, with someone asleep on the toilet, pants around their ankles, and a young woman bathing her children in the tub. There seems to be alot of green and gold in the area, on jackets and bandannas, mostly faded and moth-holed. No one seems to really be taking care of their colors.

[Large Mike]

Both watchers come back at almost the same time, both very quickly. They are babbling on, over each other, around each other, fighting for attention. When you finally get them to calm down, one refers to about a dozen people wearing green and gold in the top story of the building to your right, and the other is refering to a group of about a half-dozen, all with similar tattoos, hanging out on the steps to an apartment building, wondering if tattoos would work for what you meant. He's very excited, and eager to please, like a young dog.

[Grey]

As the watcher returns, Ricks turns to it and asks, "What do the tattoos look like?"

[Fresno Bob]

Nick hands his duffel bag of guns to Bishop.

"Take care of that for me, will you?", he says, placing some bullets for his Warhawk into his belt.

"Alright. Pain, Sue. I'm in charge of this outfit, so Pain, you keep track of anything interesting we find. Sue...you...I don't have a job right now, but I'll think of one. Gentlemen, let us go begin this recon...mission......thing.", he says. He leads the group on a search that begins around the perimeter, then eventually spirals in on right angles.

[last_of_the_grea...]

Mickey watches Ricks converse with seemingly nobody, just like the Shaman character on "The Odd Coven." Must be talking to the spirits. Maybe it was the watchers. "Hey, Ricks, who are you talking to? If that's the watchers what have they got for us?" As he spoke he used the last of his spray paint to put the Anti Renraku circle and slash on an open spot on a mostly intact building. People needed to know, after all. He hucked the two cans, aiming the second at the one he thwer first and missing badly. Drek! "If they got recon, we should check it out."

[Grey]

"Spotted come folks wearing gold and green in that building there. Up there way is a dozen or so people hanging out in front of a building and they all sport the same tats. I sent it back to tell me more about the tat, maybe I could ID the gang. If you want to head on over, thats cool too though."

[Large Mike]

The watcher seems a little confused at the question for a bit, and makes a thinking face, but then it understands. "Yeah, they all got them cats with the stripes on 'em and the orange and stuff. Some of em got stripes on their arms, too.

[Digital Heroin]

It's while the runner's gone to find a doc that Blitz starts to notice things; more things than he'd usually notice in fact. He's been gaining some clarity lately, call it paranoia, or expirience growing on him, either way he's noticing things. He gets restless waiting, knowing in an area like this a doc might take ages to find, so he re-covers the gut wound and starts to walk the area. He leaves the other Edgers that aren't on watch to some well needed rest, asuring Mother he'll be ok; seems she noticed the blood wasn't all that of his enemies.

He first notices the general air of the place, the desperate clinging to some form of normailty. The semblances of more normal life where it seems people'd be too downtrodden to bother. That tells him there's hope for this place at least. He considers heading back down to check the watchers, but the crate climb was enough of a slitch going up, he'll figure out the way down later. It's contemplating those crates that he notices the chipheads. He frowns a touch, and makes a mental note to ask Mother to bring a little food to them when he next sees her. He conducts the recon for the rest of the building himself, smiling despite himself when the childrens' play was unninterupted by his presence, the little bodies streaming around him. The father's comments and actions brought a deep frown to his face, and his lip curled. There was the urge to simply drive the bigot's head into a wall, but not with the children present. Intstead, he caught the human's gaze with his own, and let his eyes speak volumes. Sure he's ugly, and dirty right now, but he damnwell ain't lazy. When he passes by the guy to head towards the fourth floor access, he lets a little of that anger trickle, and throws a very restrained elbow to get him out of the way.

On the fourth is where he starts to notice the colors. Green and gold. Gang colors. Colors that should be worn with pride, but seem to be neglected. He grunts, and surveys their numbers, then approaches one of the men wearing them.

`Now I a'int from 'round here, but seems to me the Katos fell on tough times... would mean we shares something in comm'n.`

[Large Mike]

The chiphead looks up from the mattress blankly. "Yeah, huh? Kato what? Oh, right, the jackets. Yeah, there's a big box of em in the corner if you wanna join up, but all that really means is you can crash here if you wanna. Listen, you're in the way of my Star Trek. They got another new series. Star Trek: The Borg Life. Kooky shit."

[Digital Heroin]

A deep frown creases his features, and the big man grunts.

`Ain't you got no pride left? Jus handin' out colors like their candy on some corporate kiddy holiday...`

He looks to the trid, and frowns. Wasteful things. He looks back to the chiphead.

`Who runs the show 'ere? Who's your leader?`

[Grey]

"They all got tattoos of cats on em... I don't know, doesn't sound familiar. You wanna go check it out?"

[Large Mike]

"Leaders, dude? Uh, I think you is thinking we's something we ain't. Listen, if you want a coat, go for it, they're warm. And you're *still* in the way of my Star Trek."

[last_of_the_grea...]

For a moment considers letting the watchers do the work, but decides against it. The Bleeding Edge need to feel capable right now. "Let's go have a look. Stay dark and silent. If things go for the worse, then remember, we outnumber them 3-12." He grins a quick little grin and keeps Nick's Ingram Smartgun where he can reach it. He gets Ricks to have the watcher manifest and lead the way, then fade as the building is in sight. He stays where he can't be seen and gives the building and people a good look.

[Digital Heroin]

Blitz snorts, and stretches to his full 8'11" height, chorded muscles drawing tight.

`Star Trek? Star Trek. Son have you got no pride whatsoever. All around you there is a real world going on with drek that's twice as crazy as that science fiction trid crap, but you're chipped out and lying in your own filth.`

He lets an angry clipped tone into his voice.

`Get on your feet now.`

Lee Emory'd piss himself with a guy this size barking at him, let's see if the chiphead's got any brains.

[kevyn668]

Sue listens to Nick and nods. "I pretty useful in certain situations...I tend to reco'nize 'em when I see 'em."

He falls in a step or two behind and to the left of Nick, "I think we should work out some sorta code...I saw this Trid once, The Good, The Bad, and The Troll; ever seen it? Its got this crazy theme, kinda like, Whaa-whaa-whaw and then it goes all fugazi and you know the drek's 'bout ta come down. It got these three guys and the Good and the Troll have this deal to get this loot that hidden in the Barrens--its set right in Puyallup--but the Bad is this Lone Star asshole...anyway," Sue takes a cigarette out of the pack and tucks it behind his left ear. "When I think the shit is 'bout go down, I'll take this here smoke out from behind my ear and ask you for a light. If you see something I don't, You ask me for a smoke and I'll hand you the one behind my ear. Waddaya think?"

[Fresno Bob]

"Asking for a light, huh? Yeah. I like the sound of that.", Nick says, cracking his knuckles.

"If you see anyone displaying colors, try and give 'em a wide berth. Unless they start messin' with you. Then, just take out the one with the best looking girlfriend. I find that to be a pretty accurate judge of who's the leader.", he adds as he walks.

[Large Mike]

The punk on the mattress simply looks dumbounded. "Yeah, uh, I gotta go now."

With that, he moves over three feet, over a half-naked girl who is passed out, and stares at the trid again.

[Digital Heroin]

A low growl forms deep in his throat. If there's one thing he couldn't stand it was someone with no motivation. How odd, apathy brought out a part of his father in him. The man he'd hated with a passion. In such times, he was a mirror of the man. He steps forward in two long strides, to grab the man by the shoulder, and haul him to his feet.

`Do you know what this drek does to you?`

He taps a meaty finger to the guy's chipjack.

`It fries your fraggin' brain. Makes you into a vegetable. Just like that does...`

He points back to the trid.

`You want to end up some piece of rot? You want to die useless? Because if you do, I can arange for that.`

[Large Mike]

The chiphead seems very scared now. "Jesus Ghost, man! What the fuck do you want from me!?!" He's cringing in Blitz's hand now, and might just piss himself. "What the hell do you want!?! I don't got no money, man! Here, take my pistol," he drops a pred that must be as old as he is on the floor, "and take my food," he drops two packs of instant noodles from the inside of my jacket. "Here, man, take my drugs," He drops two chip-cases, "and have some smokes," he holds out a half pack of Nails.

[Digital Heroin]

Blitz grunts at the outflow of offerings, but he allows a wicked smile to cross his features.

`Hold it together man. Pick up your stuff. I'm not here to rob you.`

He's suddenly putting on the friendly face, but not too friednly. Can't let the guy forget he's the angry violent Trog.

`I want you to do me a favor, gather together everyone you got wearing your colors, bring 'em here. I'll be waiting for you.`

He places a foot on the chip case.

`You can have these back when you've got them here.`

[JongWK]

[Grey]

Ricks leads the group he is with up to the building that the tattooed guys are hanging out near. Stopping short, he gives them all a winning smile, "Hoy, whats up chummers?"