Daily Action, IC board for Daily Action Options

[Cthulhudreams]

Dagda reaches under his jacket, pulling out his SMG - still concealed by magic from the rest of the patrons.

"Yeah, probably a bad idea, but I'm bored, so lets go. I've got your back. You packing?"

As he speaks he closes his eyes and briefly focuses, the fetish under his shirt suddenly warm as he focuses his magic through it, astrally wrapping himself in a earthy web that sinks into his skin

[ Spoiler ]

Casting improved reflexes

6 4 1 4 6 1 4 4 2 4 2 = 2 hits (blergh!), +2 reaction +1 IP I think.

Timestamp: 2008-11-27 01:31:09 UTC

Drain = 1 6 5 2 6 5 1 6 1 6 = 6 hits, which fully soaks

then with a brief thought he ties the web of his magic to his second focus.

"Okay, I'm locked and loaded. Ready when you are."

[Mister Juan]

Dexter gave something of an amused smile to Dag as he pulled the heavy pistol from it's hip holster.

“Ain't nothin' worst than a bored guy with a gun.�

Keeping himself at something of a low crouch, the Savalette Guardian held low and along his leg, Dexter started to cover the distance between their table and front door. With his free meat hand, the old Hawaiian shirt wearing merc gestured Huge Eddie to stay put. As he came closer to the door, he started to break right.

[Cthulhudreams]

Dagda swiftly moves up behind Dexter, buttoning up his armored jacket and covering the rest of the forward arc with his SMG.

[Play]

On your way out of your seats, Toad stays in his and seems intent on his commlink.

As you rise from your seats:

Huge Eddie stares intently at the door that his bat is in reach of.

The bartender rises up from behind the bar, cussing at the top of his haggard lungs "Frakkin Drek-eatin Mother Fraggin Cocksuckers!" (how come there's no made up word for that one?)
He bangs a long double barreled shot gun down on the counter and continues to curse and express a desire to kill those #*(@*#&('s

Toad activates his vehicle's sensor system and it starts to power up.

Dagda and Dexter both notice that they are the only one's rising and moving towards the front door.

Dexter motions to Huge Eddie but Huge Eddie isn't looking at him.

Everyone in the place (except maybe the hookers) hear the big bikes power off into the distance.

Dexter and Dagda move to the door and are within reach of it. Eddie notices that but doesn't stop you or say anything, his body balanced on the giant stool ready to move.

What do you do next?

[Mister Juan]

Stacked next to the door, his right shoulder resting on the wall, Dexter brought his pistol slightly up. He could feel Dag's reassuring presence behind him, but he still didn't budge. When the big Skriatok gave him a single firm tap on the shoulder, Dexter went for it.

Opening the door as wide and as rapidly as he could, the old mercenary raised his weapon, wrapping both hands around its grip. Pistol leading the way, went straight through the door, immediately turning slightly right to cover his usual arc of fire. Hopefully, Dag would do as usual and take up the left one.

[rob]

Jump straight into the truck and swivel the sensor turret around, try to figure out what's going on. Cue the warning lights to black out, clunk it in drive, but keep my 'foot' on the 'brake'

[ Spoiler ]

Intuition 3 + Perception 1 = 4d6 [5,2,4,4], 1 hit.

Note, I didn't check through the rulebook, but might have control rig bonuses to that. I'll look when he can (his nanoware is acting like smartskin right now)

[Play]

Dexter and Dagda rush out the the door, followed by the sounds of a still-cursing bartender.

They are greeted by 'fresh' air, and an empty street filled only with the sound of engines and taillights disappearing around a corner several streets down.

They are -NOT- greeted by a hail of gunfire from armed individuals waiting to mow down anyone running out the front door of the club.

A few random street types pick themselves up off the ground and/or stand up from behind vehicles and start getting back to their day.

Toad experiences his senses picking up a new feed. He swivels the sensor turret, and also picks up the disappearing tail lights.


D&D cover their fields of fire, ready to pull the trigger. Toad watches the lights vanish with his foot on the break, ready to go.

[Cthulhudreams]

Dagda mentally patches though a voicenet to include Toad and Dexter

"What the hell was that about?"

[Mister Juan]

Dexter straightened from his partial crouch, parted his jacket and reholstered his gun.

"Best guess; bored gang bangers."

Turning around, he reentered the bar, gesturing to Eddy that everything was ok.

[rob]

While I'm in the truck, Run the internal diagnostics for my car, see if anyhting reports problems, and cue the RFID tags on all my equipment in the car to report back. Make sure they didn't steal anything.

My real body steps down and steps back outside. Start strolling towards mine, looking for bulletholes. "Yall wanna check your trucks?"

[Mister Juan]

Dexter strolls back to their previous table, yawning his head off.

[Cthulhudreams]

Dagda fires up his BMW's internal diganostics, then shrugs. "Bizarre shit." before following Dexter back to the table.

"Why the hell do clowns do that? Surely they could be off gun running or something for more money. Heck, thats how I got my start."

[Play]

Toad's system reports back all green lights, and you find no damage or physical missings. You also notice that nobody else's vehicles seem to have taken damage.

Huge Eddie is holding the door open and peering out. He steps back in as D&D re-enter the bar, his back visible to them as he moves to get his bottle from the bar.

Between the bartender's cursing to no one in particular, he yells "I want those fraggers dead!" It's probably the only exercise he's gotten in a good long while, and he's sweating. He takes a deep breath, and coughs lungily a few times. That slowing down of oxygen intake seems to be the end of his passionate verbal rampage.

The few individuals inside that reacted with more than raised eyebrows, are settling back down into their shadowy corners.

[rob]

I catch the bartender's comment as I walk back in. Grabbed the master key from the back of the truck, and am making little effort to conceal it. Nod to Huge Eddie, hope he doesn't mind.

Walk up by the bartender and smile a bit wide. "Fuck, times like this I want a beer. Pour yourself something on my tab. Assholes can ruin your day too. You know who them fuckwads were? Coulda shot my bumper off. Don't like that kinda shit neither."

[ Spoiler ]

Etiquette 3 + Charisma 4 = [2,2,3,2,3,5,1] = 1 hit. C'est la vie. Situational modifiers for common interest?

PS - all my rolls are on invisible castle under toad.

[Cthulhudreams]

Dagda doesn't drop his spells for the moment, sliding up to the bar next to toad, silently listening to the conversation.

[Mister Juan]

Now seated back to their previous table, Dexter stared picking up each beer bottle... looking for one with something still there to drink.

[Play]

The still livid bartender grips the bar, venting his anger into his white knuckles. Without moving or responding to Toads monologue, he takes a few moments and then seems to willfully calm down.

"That's it." he grates through clenched teeth. "That's fraggin it."

He looks over at Huge Eddie, and then scans people at the bar. "Frag them." he announces. "Enough of those cocksucken parasites! Let it be known...I'm now offering 200 nuyen per head fer them soysuckers."

His voice raises "They want to take over my bar?? Frag them to dirty hell! The world no longer gots a use for the bone suckers. And it won't even notice their absence. 200 nuyen a head!"

He takes a couple deep raspy breaths into his apparently iffy lungs and seems happy with himself.

[Cthulhudreams]

Dagda leans over the bar and grins at the bartender

"If you keep that up, you're going to burst a blood vessel, so guess helping you out might even be of medical benefit. Who are 'they' anyway?"

[Play]

"Frag off. When I want lip from you I'll drop my zipper."

You've been here enough to not take that personally.

He continues, a little calmer. "The Bone Suckers. I just fraggin said that. They been bustin my balls fer months, and it's been escalatin. They'll walk in here and shoot us up. No fraggin more."

And he pounds his fist on the bartop once.

[Mister Juan]

Now completely surrounded by total and flat out dryness, the old merc flipped his baseball cap forward again, pushing himself off his chair with a heavy grunt. The way he lifted himself made it seem like Dexter was pushing 60. In fact, listening his old war stories, he might as well have been 80.

Leaning (well, almost sprawling) on the bar, resting on his forearms, hands joint, Dexter sniffed heavily.

“I reckon you might wanna watch what you say man.� started Dex at the bartender's attention.

“Throwing offers like that might get someone killed, you know...�

Cracking his lower jaw from side to side, Dexter gave a sidelong glance to Dag to said long enough about what he was thinking. He had a fair idea what was brewing in the back of Dagda's mind.... but they weren't THAT in need of money. Two hundred nuyen, per head, for what was almost wet work wasn't anywhere near enough.

His eyes still on Dag, Dexter spoke in his usual southern drawl.

“Fuck man, for 200 hundered a piece, that wouldn't even fuckin slap them across the face.�

He looked back at the bartender.

“How about you give us 500, we'll drive by and shout harsh words.� he said with a chuckle, giving a hard slap across Dagda's shoulder.

[Cthulhudreams]

Dagda meets Dexters gaze for a moment, then radiopathically messages over his trode net to both Gotcha. You can handle the old man, Toad, you got any idea who these bone suckers are? I'd feel better about 500 nuyen a head if I know they are not a bunch of mafia gun runners. A damn sight better.

With that Dagda turns his attention back to the barkeeper and Dexter, still half watching the door.

[Play]

The bartender looks at you and grunts. "It's gonna get a lot of fraggers killed. $200 a head'll get me a barrel full of livers an if you think yer too good fer that price, there's plenty that'll rape their grandpa for half that."

Huge Eddie guffaws at that.

The bartender eyes the three of you, seemingly taking your measure.

[Mister Juan]

A joking smile still on his face, Dexter turned his face slightly toward Dagda. He raised bushy gray eyebrows over his enclosed cyber eyes, his lips pursing out in a "meh" mimic. The old soldier was no negotiation expert, but he had to give the bartender some points for being right. Some people, especially down here in the barrens, would indeed cap you, rape your grandma and then sell her body to the local street doc... for a beer. A lukewarm, flat, tasteless beer.

Without even saying a word, Dexter's body language was enough to express his current attitude, which could have been summed up in "well, what the hell..." Something the bartender had just said had indeed sparked an idea in the back of the gun for hire's mind... All he hoped was that the rest of the crew would fall in line with what he had to offer.

He looked back at the bartender, throwing him his own reflection in his mirror eye casings.

"You ready to put your money where that big fucking mouth of yours is?"

[Play]

You get snarled back at. "I put my money where I want my money to be and I don't see no fragger bleedin on my floor. **cough cough** You gonna grow some balls an get my floor dirty?"

[Mister Juan]

Dexter chuckles a bit behind his beard. Grow some balls.... If only this poor shmuck had any idea who Dexter had been, and still was.

He leaned sideways on the bar, now facing Dagda.

"Can you believe this fucking guy?" he said, jerking his head toward the bartender.

After a few seconds of mulling over it, Dexter finally spoke.

"A'right. You better have the dough when we came back."

He leaned a bit over the bar, taking on his "I'm fucking dead serious don't you dare fuck with me" face.

"Cause if you don't, we'll add you to the pile."

Pushing himself off, he gave a few "pat" on Dagda's shoulder with his meat hand.

"Right boy, lets get this show on the road."