2072: Game World, IC thread for 2072: Recruitment always open! Options

[onlyghostdancesw...]

@ Suicide Kings
[April 16th 2072; 01:55:00 On the Song of Freedom]

Sitting in the quiet swishing of the night and the easy rocking of the barge as it slowed down to turn towards it's berth, Jacob felt a wierd peace steal over him until he realized that the barge trip had taken nearly 25 minutes too long. He sat up straight and motioned to Demon, "I just realized, we haven't made land yet... its been 55 minutes... it's supposed to take 30 max. I'll take a look around you check with the others?" Motioning towards Dealer who could vaguely be seen crossing the deck towards the ramp he saw the vague outlines of low slung buildings approaching through the drizzle. "This doesn't feel right..."

[JxJxA]

@ Suicide Kings
[April 16th 2072; 01:30:00 On the Song of Freedom]
[The Pixel Special, ID "Aubert Benoit"]

"Call it sentimentality or stupidity, but I prefer to get to know someone before I fight alongside them. As for before, consider this a modest apology, oui? It has been a...trying day, to put it mildly."

He thanks Mr. Green for the gift, and carefully places it in his coat pocket so as to make sure it is not disturbed. As an afterthought, he puts a slight notch in the butt with his thumbnail to make sure that he does not accidentally take a draw on it in a fit of nicotine-fueled desperation.

He smiles politely as he listens to the tech expert talk, getting a feel for his new comrade.

"I will keep the trick in mind should Hansai turn traitor, but I have hope that there is one honest man left among us... As for feeling out of place, I sympathize with you, mon ami. Seattle is the last place I ever expected to find myself, but here I am. I appreciate the gesture of meeting us face to face."

[April 16th 2072; 01:55:00 On the Song of Freedom]

He continues to chat pleasantly with the hacker until Mr. Green mentions the time. He nods at the Mr. Green, reaches instinctively towards his concealed gun to reassure himself that he indeed put it there, and follows outside to check on the others.

"Mr. Green has noticed that something may be afoot...we have been at sea a bit to long," he tells them.

[Notsoevildm]

@ Suicide Kings
[April 16th 2072; 01:30:00 On the Song of Freedom]
[The Pixel Special, ID "Marylin Monroe"]

Copperhead reaches for the big shotgun, then hesistates as she glances at the slowly approaching land.

Don't want to attract any attention right now.

Her mask flares as she draws mana to herself, ready for anything. She lets the gun fall back to her side and snicks out her razors as she moves to join the others.

"Wassup chummers. We gots a problem wid da boat drivers?"

[Aria]

@ I'm on a boat
[April 15th 2072; 23:56:30 SS Henry VIII Puget Sound]

With Siran out ahead of her and her forward spotting drone not picking up any signs of hostiles, Silk stepped cautiously into the hatchway, relying on her thermoptic camouflage to keep her hidden…mere seconds later she was cursing not doing a fuller sweep when the area she was standing in was filled with a whirling storm of flechette shards that ripped into her arm and side.

Cursing silently to herself she tracked the two sec agents closing on them and doing her best to ignore the blazing pain sent two wide bursts of fire in their direction before ducking back behind the steel bulkhead

<<@Nine: can you get one of the deck drones around this side…we need more eyes…and what the hell is sparky doing?>>

[Aria]

Dysfunctional Family
[April 15th, 2072 22:17; Somewhere in Touristville]

Prospero waited like a spider in the web of medical lines and beeping monitors. Outwardly he was still but a heart monitor was recording abnormally high levels of adrenaline as he seethed…his children had been attacked and he had been powerless to prevent it. The hunters had used dogs to sniff them out and then those they hadn’t killed out of hand were bagged and tagged and bundled off gods knew where. He had tried following them through traffic cams but they had used much of the deadzone around Touristville to their advantage and had easily avoided his efforts to track them.

Then the Crush had come calling…at least that was what they had been disguised as. It was a thinly veiled attempt to clean the scene and make it look like yet more random barrens violence but Prospero knew better.

To add insult to injury, those who had escaped he’d directed to Dr Bob’s, only for that to be attacked by unknown forces a short while ago. It seems that was more wrong place wrong time but the coincidence didn’t sit well with him.

His agents were scouring the ‘trix for any information on the attack but even Ariel and so far drawn a blank…

He felt a tentative probe at the last line of his proxies, the one with the hardwired connection to his lair, and like an avenging angel he swept down the fibre optic line and emerged in the node in a blaze of code. In the node he saw with interest that the intruding icon was running a very powerful reality filter which was overriding the basic iconography. Tweaking his display to accept the input he stepped into a mad garden reminiscent of Alice…and then she stepped out from behind a lurid mushroom and he charged his staff with the most powerful attack program at his disposal…

“Please, I’m not here to bring you any more trouble…I wanted you to know that I am sending some people to you to investigate the attack…”

A series of coded image files flash into his databanks

“I hope they will be able to help…”

“Who are you” he demanded

“I am Summer…”

[AppliedCheese]

@ I'm on a boat
[April 15th 2072; 23:56:30 SS Henry VIII Puget Sound, 3585m off shore]

The two men crouched behind the air out take, hoping that their issued uniforms would keep them hidden from the boarding terrorists. They had a plan. It wasn't a great plan, but it was A plan, which generally meant they were doing a lot better than most of the crew just at this moment.

The door opened, and the sparking electric death mage charged out. They had got the feed from the last attempt to shotgun that...thing...and knew better. However, the next figure to appear in the doorway was not a sparking electric death mage. No indeed. It was just a woman. A woman with a submachinegun and who knows what 'ware in her, but a human none the less. And humans can bleed. That she crouched in the backlit door made it easier.

Their shotguns blared, scouring the doorway with flechettes, and they started to move out. No sense in staying around to die after all, but no terrorist was going to take their ship and their Captain that easy. They were going to pay for it.

Amazingly, the woman was still standing, or rather crouching, at the end of it. The return fire caught the first one square, but his amazement he didn't die. Damned if it didn't hurt though. He steadied his shotgun as best he could and sent two more blasts down that direction.

The second security guard saw the writing on the wall, or rather the writing in the "the guy in front of me is jerking around a bit" and cut right as a burst of fire slung through the air behind him. His shotgun thundered twice more before he managed to clear the line of sight.

[JxJxA]

@ Suicide Kings
[April 16th 2072; 01:30:00 On the Song of Freedom]
[The Pixel Special, ID "Aubert Benoit"]

Demon shrugs in response.

"I am not sure, ma chère. It could be a nothing but paranoia, but after tonight it is probably best to look into it, oui?"

He draws out one of his "hold out pistols"---a customized Walther Secura Kompact S appropriately named Surprise. He tells the gun via his PAN to give Copperhead clearance to use it, and then offers it to the mage.

"You may use this if you want something more subtle than a shotgun. It is loaded with APDS bullets just in case we encounter more of the same méchants."

[Notsoevildm]

@ Suicide Kings
[April 16th 2072; 01:30:00 On the Song of Freedom]
[The Pixel Special, ID "Marylin Monroe"]

Copperhead gives the assasin a big grin, holding up one troll-sized cybered hand with glinting razors.

"I sure appreciate da gesture Demon but deze hands ain't buillt fer anything smaller dan a troll-modded heavy pistol."

She gently wraps the big hand around the gun and the frenchman's hand.

"But don't worry me an' Snake still got a couple of tricks up our sleeves if I need more dan ma' razors."

[JxJxA]

@ Suicide Kings
[April 16th 2072; 01:30:00 On the Song of Freedom]
[The Pixel Special, ID "Aubert Benoit"]

Demon returns Copperhead's smile with a slightly sheepish grin of his own.

The more I get to know this woman, the more I like her.

"Points taken," he replies, and returns the small weapon to its hidden holster. "Though I hope you will not hold mon erreur against me. One never knows what marvels might be added to arms such as yours, madame. It is part of your mystique féminin."

[JxJxA]

[accidental double-post]

[AppliedCheese]

@ Suicide Kings
[April 16th 2072; 01:30:00 On the Song of Freedom]

Dealer discretely attaches a silencer to his Predator and checks the load over smartlink. Regular in the chamber. Good. Not as good as something sub-sonic, but at least the post barrel Crack of a dart accelerating to well above mach speeds as it shed its outer sabot wouldn't happen. Yeah, a silencer would help reduce that to not very noticeable in the middle of a firefight, but it would still be reasonably...conspicuous...in the dead of night. And the boom-boom of Ex-Ex exploratory and main charges going off on impact would be right out.

He considers using the taser, but the more vindictive side of him decides that if the boatmen had been behind something, he would rather they be dead. And if it is an ambush, it'll already be lethal, and tasers tend to be notoriously bad at hitting anything more than small room away. So, the pistol was win-win. Unless the ambush had long arms and automatic weapons. Then it might be win-oh drek, but you couldn't exactly conceal an assault rifle while politely inquiring what the delay is.

He sub vocalized over his bone mic to the group.

"Czzkt. Before we do anything hasty, who do these guys belong to, and what's been watching us for the past 50 minutes?"

[Aria]

@ Suicide Kings
[April 16th 2072; 01:30:00 On the Song of Freedom]

Ember felt the tension in the air before he was really aware of his comrades girding themselves for another confrontation. He raised an eyebrow as Dealer began screwing a silencer onto his weapon...

With a momentary flick of concentration he elevated his senses to the astral plane and amidst the swirls of energy whipping across the open waters of the Sound he picked out a spirit and called to it with all his Will

~Will you aid me sylph? The path ahead is murky and beset by troubles and I ask that you grant me your power for a little while...~

[Aria]

@ I'm on a boat
[April 15th 2072; 23:56:30 SS Henry VIII Puget Sound, 3585m off shore]

Silk was grateful she had had the foresight to duck back behind the bulkhead as the space she had been was once more filled with a thunder of sound and a hail of splinters. She winced as her wounded arm banged against the metal of the wall but it was considerably better than the alternative

<<@Nine: Hostiles are moving out of sight, can you track them for me? Relaying tactical data from my spy now...>>

[JxJxA]

@ Suicide Kings
[April 16th 2072; 01:30:00 On the Song of Freedom]
[The Pixel Special, ID "Aubert Benoit"]

Demon shrugs.

<<@ Group: I am not sure. This could be something or it could be nothing, but it is better to check it out, yes? If you like, I can question our esteemed captain.>>

[sabs]

@Dysfunctional Family
[April 15th, 2072 22:17; Somewhere in Touristville]

Fractal mused to himself as he slowly walked along, checking the parameters on his personafix software. The target was up ahead, a few more steps.. and there it was accidental bump. He grunted, a very orkish sounding grunt. "Sorry" The target, some elven mid level exec started ranting at him. "You idiot, why don't you watch where you're going. They should get rid of you people from this Zone." Fractal kept his face down and meek. "Sorry Sir.. " He checked the srfids he had planted on the man's suit and in his hair, all the feeds reported back. He shuffled away slowly. The executive, now fuming mad stomped away and immediately went back to the call he was on.

Fractal walked to a near bye park and sat down on a bench, for all the world appearing like an old Ork falling asleep sitting on a bench. He went full VR and started up all the sub routines he would need for this job. His Icon shimmered and glowed with anticipation as he started this little job.

[Aria]

[Matrix Node: SEAѤ67-∑2: The Citadel]

As you enter the node, you stand on a barren plane, which only makes the towering edifice of the Citadel seem even bigger. Even with the enhanced senses available in the matrix the top of this gothic monstrosity is lost in the lowering clouds, lightening scudding through them in vast sheets. Gargoyles leer at you from the tops of their pedestals and, following a faint cry bourn to you on the wind, you look up to see a huge western dragon, dwarfed by the structure, breath a torrent of fire into the surrounding tempest.

Before you are an enormous set of carved bronze doors cracked open, standing in the shadows there is a hooded figure who beckons to you

“Welcome to the Citadel, I am the Gatekeeper…”

[Aria]

[Matrix Node: SEAѤ67-∑2: The Citadel]

Aria looked down at her displays from her throne room at the pinnacle of the Citadel…although in this case the displays were represented by mirrored pools of water and her throne was a twisted tree in an impossible jungle scape. She mentally acknowledged her master’s insight in creating this place, part test, part game and wholly mesmerising…

The choice to incorporate players own visions for their worldscapes had been immensely successful and had provided some weird and wonderful places to explore. That they got their free subscriptions and their avatar’s names above the portals was payment enough, along with the massive processing power required to run their creations. Aria never ceased to be amazed at the inventiveness present here, and in that creativity was the key to unlocking the secrets that her master cherished so much.

[Aria]

fre∑dom
[April 15th, 2072 22:17; Somewhere in Touristville]

An AR loaded message appears in your inbox with a subtle ping announcing its arrival. The iconography tells you that the message originated entirely from within the ‘trix and you recognise the hooded figure and staff of lightening as the avatar of Prospero, an old school hacker who you’ve had dealings with in the past when you have needed some obscure code or hard to come by program. His hacker gang fre∑dom were based near here although you’d never been beyond the borders of their turf.

<<Fractal? I have urgent need of you…are you near Touristville at the moment? I want someone I know here when the so called investigators arrive. Your reputation for impartiality and discretion should convince them to talk to you…I want to know what happened but I am not about to trust these strangers.>>

A video file tag indicates a nearby node where a shocking series of feeds waits for download. It seems the gang have been attached, decimated even, although it is apparent that the attackers never reached the spider at the centre of his web…is this something you want to get involved in? It would mean relying on agents to follow your current mark until you had time to pick up his trail again…

[sabs]

[April 15th, 2072 22:17; Somewhere in Touristville]

Fractal floated in the black void that was his VR construct. A Blizzard of fractals swirled all around him. As his own ICON altered it's frequency, different fractals would match and deliver information to Fractal. The message from Prospero shimmered for attention, and he played it. He focused his will and changed his surroundings, playing the various feeds. <<For you, anything. I'm actually doing a little side gig in Touristville tonight.>> He checked the people mover and traffic information from Gridguide, <<I can be there in ..>> He calculated, he'd need a new disguise, something more appropriate. <<Give me 20 minutes to get there.>>

A small squadron of fractals broke off and made their way down the Matrix trail, following some scent. <<What kind of investigators? Should I go in all S&S? Or M&S?>>

He routed an auto taxi his way, and highlighted the autovendors on the way. He wouldn't have time for a major disguise, but hopefully something decent. Fractal worked furiously while he waited for everything to come together, coding himself a new disguise.

[ Spoiler ]

S&S: Suits and Sunglasses
M&S: Mohawks and Sunglasses

[Aria]

fre∑dom
[April 15th, 2072 22:17; Somewhere in Touristville]

<<I don’t know who these investigators are. A meddling hacker calling herself Summer turned up in one of my peripheral nodes and said she was sending them to me to help find out who was behind the attack. To say that I am suspicious of her motives would be a gross understatement!

You know this place, coming dressed to blend in will make sure you’re more likely to reach here. I know we aren’t barrens proper but there’s no need to advertise yourself.>>

[sabs]

[April 15th, 2072 22:17; Somewhere in Touristville]

Fractal made sure his agents would do their work, then slithered back out of VR. His logout functions triggered a loud snort, grunt, as if suddenly waking oneself up with a snore. He looked around, and saw that his taxi cab was almost at the destination. he stood up and walked slowly towards it. Checking camera angles, he stepped through an alleyway. Going in as an old Ork, he came out as a very young looking one. Full of swagger and thrust, he stepped into the taxi where it was waiting, and in stilted Japanese, told the taxi where to go.

<<I'm on my way. Should be there shortly. We can talk about handwashing when I get a feel for what's going on.>>

Fractal reviewed the feeds, and started doing searches on this Hacker calling herself Summer. While he was there, he hacked the taxi logs, so it would charge the ride to some corporate account, and forget who and where it had picked up.

[AppliedCheese]

[April 16th 2072; xx:xx Amidst a haze of allegedly smokeless powder, debris, and strobing flashes.]


*Crack* *Crack* *Crack* -chitch-

The unmistakeable sound of the bolt of an Ares Alpha locking to the rear.

"I'm OUT!"

Typically screaming this is considered a bad idea; however, the network had gone down a while back, when they lost contact with Mr. Green, and not everyone had radios anymore...


ssshhhhhtttt

The sound of an Ares Predator coming out of its Smart-Holster. No time for reflection on the particular brand name dominance apparent in Dealer's weapon selection.

pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft

Never did take the silencer off.

"DIE MOTHER FRAGGER DIE! Copper, where's Demon?!"

In short, all the sounds of a run having gone wrong...

[Aria]

fre∑dom
[April 15th, 2072 22:31; Somewhere in Touristville]

Jazz angrily rubbed the tears out of her eyes once more and hunched back against the propped fire escape door to shield herself from the bitter wind. Why hadn’t she been here…surely she could have done something? Even with clear evidence to the contrary her thoughts strayed back to this again. The other defenders hadn’t been able to even slow down the hunters who had come with their dogs and their guns. Freedom was broken and bleeding

Her lowlight AR glasses, the most expensive piece of tech she owned, picked out Sam across the street. The gangly young teenager looked back at her and gestured towards the approaching taxi…it seemed company was coming sooner than anticipated. She flicked off the safety on the AK and, facing it down towards the wall, briefly touched the trigger to ensure the neon green laser sight was operational…now she just had to see who it was and report back to the boss…

[Notsoevildm]

[April 16th 2072; xx:xx Amidst a haze of allegedly smokeless powder, debris, and strobing flashes.]

Cradling the dying Frenchman in her arms, Copperhead heard the gunfire pause and Dealer shouting, "I'm OUT!"

She kissed Demon gently on the forehead and then eased him to the ground. He gave a weak smile as she wrapped his fingers around the last of his fragmentation grenades and pulled the pin.

She thought she heard him say 'Au revoir, ma cherie' but her ears were ringing too much to be sure.

"He's dead and we need to leave now." she shouted back.

Despite her own wounds, she forced herself into a crouch and called out to Snake.

Mama, I need your help. Grant us your speed and conceal us from our foes.

She swayed, the pounding in her temples increasing to an even more frantic beat, but a translucent serpent hissed into view before her.

"Dealer, I know you don't fink much of mages but if you want to live, take ma fraggin hand and hold onto your fraggin breath."

Her long arm snaked out towards the street sam and then with the last of her strength, she leapt off the dock and into the freezing water.

[Trigger]

[Matrix Node: SEAѤ67-∑2: The Citadel]

Ælias floated right outside of The Citadel's node, looking up at the great archway that served as the portal into the game world. His persona was currently the one he wears as Simon Trent, the fake SIN he is projecting; it is that of a slim, heavily tattooed elven street samurai, katana on his back and heavy pistol at his side. Simon Trent was Horizon low-level management, a middle aged ork who scouted small time urban rap stars, who secretly wanted to be like the prettier metas, or that is what Ælias imagined Simon to be like.

He watched the node for a long while, watching the traffic in and out, watching the shifting of data around him, attuning himself to it. Slowly, piece by piece, Ælias reached out and began changing little bits of information in the flow, slowly building the game account for the user Simon Trent aka username AncientMan87. He found a keycode for one of the old beta test accounts, the trial offer subscription numbers from GameCicada (a live streaming game site he plays on sometimes), as well a few corporate account numbers with multiple accounts already attached to them. Those are usually some employee benefit account set up as a bonus for good wageslaves or office groups that all pay games together. Horizon has changed the ways megas treat their employees, and this kind of account was part of that change, a change Ælias particularly enjoyed.

There it was, the account was ready for him. He willed the time into the upper right corner of his vision, checking how long it took him to crack this one. Six hours? That's pretty wicked time if I do say. Now, let's see what this Citadel is getting all the buzz for.

[ Spoiler ]

Extended Spoof Test for access to The Citadel
*Hacking 4 + Spoof 5 + Paragon bonus 2 = 11 dice
Roll 1 - 1, 4, 1, 4, 5, 6, 1, 2, 5, 6, 3 = 4 hits

So after 6 hours of spoofing, he gets an account.