Depends on the parents, really. Some would want "Something Better" for their kid, a SIN, school, dating, the whole UCAS Dream.

Others, like the old Neo-@s like Slamm-0s parents, would hate even the idea of sending their kid to be "Brainwashed" by the "Corporate-Educational Complex". For those parents, there's the ShadowSkool. Slamm-0 never had a chance at a normal life, admittedly, but he's well equipped for life in the Shadows. (Now, if only he could get a date with Netcat).

Also, finally, you got the kids with SINless parents that actually care for them. Especially if they're freshly SINless (Due to Crash 2.0), and found a life of freedom in the Shadows better than one of convenient containment in the Light.

Finally, there's just some kids worth saving, and Shadowrunners sympathetic to them could get involved with part-time helping the ShadowSkool.

Slamm-O is an interesting example.

You have a kid, both of his parents were runners - yet, how was he raised? We don't know, its never really been discussed to the best of my knowledge (best writeup was in the old Matrix book years ago and even that didn't say too much). Just because both were runners doesn't assume his parents would want that for him. Would you really want your kid in a high risk job where death or capture by the law (or worse!) is a daily risk? Constant paranoia? Risk of betrayal? How 'bout a runner trying to settle down and have a relationship with a non-runner?

Sure, they're free of "the system" but at what price?

- J.

How many parents have raised their children to follow in their footsteps even in dangerous professions? Fishermen, lobstermen, miners, soldiers—especially solders!

I'd imagine it depends on the shadowrunner, though. If you're not good with statistics, you get lucky, and you're making good money, why wouldn't you raise your kid to do it? If you're a shadowrunner because you're fighting the man and the system, you'd definitely bring your kids up to do it too. If You just don't have any other skills and you can't get your kid into school, you teach what you know because it's better than nothing.

How harsh is life as a shadowrunner? Most are probably incompetent amateurs who tend to get arrested or killed quickly. The skilled, canny, and careful ones can probably do just fine for years. They're also likely to be paranoid and, most importantly, they'll be the types to accept only milkruns and bring excessive planning and equipment to bear on their runs. It wouldn't be glamorous, it probably wouldn't be fun, and it probably wouldn't even pay all that well, but it would keep the good and safety-conscious runners free and breathing.

I don't know the odds on how many runners survive to retirement - and not enough anecdotal evidence exists to even guess really.

In my game world, I can think of maybe two NPCs who have "retired" (i.e. moved to the tropics and never have to work again). Their stories are the stuff of 'legend'. Most runners retire from active service but never fully leave the shadows, choosing to work as either fixers, instructors (magical, martial arts, etc), information brokers, fences, arms dealers, etc. Even then, all these jobs aren't without their own sense of peril but generally a step down from fully fledged running.

Comparing shadowrunning to fishing is functionally retarded. Lets compare apples with apples yeah?

As I've only just become a parent this month, I think I can speak for most of us and we all want a better life for our kids than what we've had ourselves. I have had a pretty good career and been looked after working I.T. -- I can't complain. But I wouldn't want my little girl to work in I.T. unless it was something she really wanted. In which case, sure, I'd definitely help guide her.

But we're not talking about a career in I.T here. We're talking about a career being made out of actively breaking the law. I think if runners had kids that wanted to take to the shadows, they would guide them but I seriously don't think a kid would have the understanding/mental maturity/life experience to truly appreciate the stakes involved.

- J.

OK then, how many Guerilla Fighters train their children to be ready for war? To fight against the Corrupt System that $Insert_Rant_Here. And they're certainly not going to send Junior into the "Brainwashing Schools" of the system they hate so much, are they?

You want to compare dangerous jobs in free fire zones, OK. How about this?

How many generations of Irish Freedom Fighters (Or IRA Terrorists, depending on who you ask) have there been since England took over Erie? How many were there in Northern Ireland when Southern Ireland was able to become free? That's a dangerous "Occupation" where many people don't survive to see retirement.

Ok - fine. Let's split hairs. Yes it goes on.

Comparitively speaking - how many parents would want that life for their kids?

My point being is simple - I don't believe the numbers would exist for a shadow school as proposed here. I'm not saying that in some circles the SINless wouldn't want their kids educated. It's already established this goes on in the Ork Underground. I'm just saying that I think any city with a strong runner population (including Seattle) would be hard pressed to find the numbers to build a school dedicated wholly and solely to teaching kids for shadowrunners (as described here at least). I also find the justification a bit weak.

Look, its a personal opinion only. Whatever floats your boat at the end of the day. I just think its a bit of a stretch and was curious to know if I was the only one who felt that way.

- J.

It's not just Shadowrunners getting kids education at the ShadowSkool. It's a School in the Shadows. That's for the whole of the Shadows.

Beggers are part of the Shadows. Your SINless mechanic is part of the Shadows. Mr. and Mrs. Ratt at the "Ratt on a Stick" vendor in Touristville is part of the Shadows. Ex-Cons who never had a legit SIN and now only have a Criminal SIN is part of the Shadows.

It's anyone that doesn't want to, or can't, live in the Light (That is, legally). Some are Ex-Shadowrunners who couldn't afford to buy the bar they wanted to. Others are SINless people that want their kids to grow up to be something other than gangers, pimps, joybois/joygrrls, drunks, druggies, chipheads, or dead in the gutter over a cardboard box.

Reviving this dead post.

Clear! *Buzz-ZAP*

We got heartbeat!

In my current campaign, Kalvan, an Elf Former Wage Mage, is semi-retired from the shadows, and now teaching (some of) the next generation of spellslinging magical talent. Mostly he teaches "Practical Theory" AKA situational awarness during firefights for Combat Mages and Band-Aids (Combat Healing Magicians). If it's obvious that the budding spellcasters aren't being groomed by Mentor Spirits and/or their own people's Awakened elders, he'll go into "Deep Theory" with them as well, so long as they swear binding oaths never to practice Blood Magic.

If such a thing as "shadow schools" existed, he'd be perfectly willing to teach.

Just a quick note here-- since I saw the title of this thread, I've had Soul Asylum's "Black Gold" going through my mind...

"Keeps the kids off the street
Gives 'em somethin' to do, somethin' to eat
(something) used to be a playground..."

More good SR-inspiring sounds.

Soldiers are very different from fishermen or miners. Their entire training is about indoctrinating them with a mindset and disciplines to encourage them to think that they are frikken awesome.

Naturally this tends to carry into the rest off your life.

And, once again, bringing this to the forefront.

I know it's been almost two years since the last story post in this thread, but I'd really like to hear more about the goings on at the shadow school. I just found this thread when CanRay revived it last week, so to me it's all shiny and new

I'll talk to the guy that was writing about the Drug Spirits...

As for my comments on the ShadowSkool... Let's see what I can do...

Two years already? Wow. I remember when it first was posted. I was looking forward to it, but I gave up a while back.

The ShadowSkool:
Developed by residents of the Shadows to deliver an education to their children (Birthed, tanked, and adopted) better than that of the public school system, and far away from the Corporate and Policlub Brainwashing that occurs at other facilities. The ShadowSkool has a decisively Neo-Anarchist bend to it, encouraging individual thought and choices in classes. This means that the students actually wish to attend classes, a remarkable change from other school systems. In addition to their own Children, the ShadowSkool is open to respected Shadowrunners who require remedial courses, as well as to some gang members that pay for the privilege (In cash to the school, and in jibes from their chummers in the gang for going to school!).

Classes: The classes are held in a style more akin to a High School or Post-Secondary institution, where the courses are selected and held at different times. Students go to the classes they choose (Or their parents choose for them), or that they pay for. Basic courses (English reading and writing, arithmetic, gym, and cultural classes in art) are free, while any further classes require payment per course taken. Payable in money, favours, goods, or services (Including teaching your own course in an area of expertise.).

Sports: The ShadowSkool has no sports department, despite repeated requests to have an Urban Brawl team.

Building: The school building is the former Puyallup High School, which was left vacant due to budget cuts, and is due for demolitions sometime after hell freezes over due to other budget cuts. The building was originally home to quite a few squatters who had to leave, and has now been repaired to the point where it is mostly comfortable, even if those repairs are very noticeable. Students do not have lockers, and are required to keep their learning materials on them at all times (Which can be difficult, as there is a pick-pocketing course that is available.). It is still connected to the Matrix via a hardwire connection that dates from before the Great Ghost Dance, and wireless nodes have been set up to allow access to the Matrix, however at a very low bandwidth (AR Only.).

Security: The gang situation around the school has been dealt with, harshly, as only a faculty that consists partly of Shadowrunners can do. Most gangs have also come to an understanding that attacking the SkoolBus will end up in reprisals that are very costly indeed.

Faculty:
Principal: “Handsome” Karl Victors, Male Ork, 30-year old retired Fixer and son of the infamous Shadowrunner Kham. Uses his contacts to get equipment and supplies for the ShadowSkool. Wishes to leave the school as his legacy to the Shadows that supported him for all his life.

Vice Principal: “Knuckles” Marcone, Male Troll, 22-year old Shadowrunner. Got a Sleep Regulator at a young age, and used the time not sleeping to give himself an education. Very harsh on students who waste potential. His door is marked “Complaints Solved”, and people who cause trouble to the Skool are sent there. Has his three sons in the school, who are pushed by their father very harshly.

Kindergarten: Miss Black, Free Spirit (Spirit of Man. Hearth Spirit of the School.). Able to relate to children better than any mortal being, and fiercely protective of them. She appeared at one of the initial planning meetings when the building was being repaired, her spirit strengthened enough to allow her to interact with the material plane once again. Enjoys the simple joy of younger children, and has come back from the brink of going toxic. (Created by Ryusukanku.)

Introduction to Self Defence and Introduction to Firearms Classes: Mr. R. Lee, Male Elf SINner (Military Record, Honourable Discharge from all four branches of the UCAS Military, various Sargent Ranks), unknown age. Former Drill Instructor for the UCAS Marine Corps, the UCAS Army, the UCAS Air Force, and the UCAS Navy at different times. Finally, he was forced into mandatory retirement. It is unknown how he found out about the ShadowSkool, but he walked up to Principal Victors and demanded a job similar to his Drill Instructor experience. May be the only elf that appears to be old. Was denied permission to have a course devoted to cursing and insulting. Prides himself on the fact that his students have less firearms “mishaps” in the first year than Lone Star graduates have in their first week. (Created by Ryusukanku.)

Gym Class: Philip Dodge, Male Troll, 24-year old former Shadowrunner. Considered to be the wisest and most agile troll in the Barrens without the use of magic or implants. Very down to earth and relaxed personality, he particularly loves demonstrating just how out of shape the gang members in his classes are. Is rather disappointed in the lack of sports teams in the Skool. (Created by Ryusukanku.)

Automotive and Metalworking Shops: Mr. "Crusher" Malone, Male Human SINner (No criminal record), 35-year old former owner of a Chop Shop (Forced to sell the garage to the Vory.). Joined the ShadowSkool to get his children a better education than the Puyallup Barrens would have provided.

Computer Literacy, English Literacy, and Advanced Hacking Classes: Miss Datawyrm, Female Elf, Unknown age, former Shadowrunner, insists on still being called a “Decker”. Came to teach at the school at the request of Principal Victors, and has decided that she likes teaching. The Advanced Hacking Class has the largest number of gang members enrolled in it, with the Reality Hackers taking the courses to heart.

Drug Awareness, Health, and Urban Survival Classes: Joey Falconwing, Male Elf, 42-year old drug artist. Was found in the building, where he had lived since he became SINless with Crash 2.0, where he had previously been a chemist for a pharmaceutical company owned by MCT. His amount of knowledge is surprising considering that he still looks like a Hippie from the 1960s.

Chemistry, Math, and Geography Classes: Doctor Absinthe, Male Awakened Human (“Steampunk” Magic Style), unknown age. Former teacher that lost his SIN to Crash 2.0, where he became a Shadowrunner. Has joined the ShadowSkool with the promise of eager young minds. Very forgetful and often lost in his own world. Is a member of the mysterious group called “The Think Tank”. (Created by Ryusukanku.)

Demolitions and Introduction to Magical Theory Classes: Meinrad, Male Awakened Dwarf (“Runemaster” Magic Style), believed to be around 50-years old, Shadowrunner and former member of the UCAS Army Corps of Engineers (Sapper). With a large number of illegitimate children, Meinrad joined the school as a teacher to pay for their classes, and also brought forth the idea that Shadowrunners might use the facility to train or learn their own skills of the trade. (Created by Ryusukanku.)

Magical Theory, Combat Magic, and Religion Classes: Grim Perry, Male Awakened Human (“Black Magician” Magic Style), Shadowrunner. Paying a debt to Vice Principal Marcone by teaching. Has developed a larger debt by taking courses in the skool, perpetuating his teaching career. (Created by Ryusukanku.)

Basic Hacking: Miss Burn, Female Human, Mid-20s Shadowrunner. Joined the skool to help with the education of her son. Is still very much in the Shadow Community as a Shadowrunner as her class consists of the students hacking the skool's network in order to change their grade. (Created by Leofski.)

Introduction to Chemistry and Introduction to Demolitions Classes: Taylor Nathan Tucker (AKA: Mr. TNT), Human Male, 25-year old semi-retired Shadowrunner. Joined the ShadowSkool when his sister died and he required schooling for his nephew. Has a (well-deserved) reputation in the Shadows as being unlucky. Despite that, he still has kept all his fingers, so far. (Created by Christian Lafay)

Construction Class: Marcus Harrington IV, Male Dwarf SINner (Citizen with Criminal Record), 42-year old former construction company owner who was fired from his job for using substandard materials (Forced to by the Mafia). Was originally in charge of the reconstruction of the ShadowSkool Building, making it usable as a school once again. His work enticed a surprising number of students, and he has stayed on as a teacher, and has created a Shadow Business of repairing and modifying buildings without those pesky permits.

Bus Driver/Field Trip Teacher: Vincent Cooper, Male Human SINner (No criminal record), 30-year old bus driver. Quit his job with the Puyallup School Bus Service when five bullets went through the place where his head had been a second earlier, giving up a rather nice retirement package due to the fact that he wasn't likely to survive getting it. Tried to get a job as a taxi driver until approached by Principal Victors with the offer of a job, and an armoured skool bus.

You forgot "Needs to get laid." there, chief.

I've been gone forever but the thread remains, incredible...



And should Harvard's doctorate IT class discover the intrusion and alteration post acceptance, you've ruined your kid's future. Which partially answers your question. Yeah, they can forge a new SIN and maybe get the kid into a nice, non-corporate-aligned private school (as if). But what happens if that SIN is reconciled in some audit and discovered to be a fake? It happens all the time in the world of SR: IDs go bad, don't ever rely on them all the time. So much for giving your kid a "normal" life.

There is of course, one other EXTREMELY good reason to go with this idea: it provides a wealth of possible story lines, plots, subplots, etc.

I just brought it back to life.

And, yeah, that "Bullet-Proof" SIN you own won't stay so forever. The idea of the family with the white picket fence and the 8-6 job as a Civil Servant with good pay and benefits...

Yeah. Sorry, it's called "Cyberpunk" for a reason.

Multiple times from the look of things

I might borrow some of your faculty there for when I return to running our SR campaign. Just wanted to give you a heads-up and hope you don't mind

Is why I posted it. Use the whole skool if you want.

<sarcasm> Don't know many professional fisherfolk, do you now? </sarcasm>
Miners, yes. It's "Get F%&King educated so you can come back and run this S%^thole", but professional fishermen (not many women, I've noticed.) are quite happy that their kids may want to follow in daddy's footsteps.
Also, it's skills that you pickup by living around an environment (there are a lot of rather important ones you don't get by going to primary school and bringing back something to put on the fridge). My 3-year old cousin could fire up the old C64 to play "Nursery Land" faster than I could River Raid or Wizball, for all that I was 10 years older than her - My uncle (her daddy) lived, breathed and slept computers and was delighted when the offspring were interested as well. Oddly enough, they all became sportsmen/women and went into languages and music.

Back to topic:

As a character "start", we had a corp orphan (Fuchi) that tested out high on the magic aptitude. Parents dead, she wasn't worth anything to Fuchi America, but in 10 years, she could be a nice biddable wageslave and those make the company money.
So, treat her humanely, make sure she's feeling endebted to the corp and get some solid magic skills onto her - take the long view.

But, as we know, magic's always an exception, something valuable that can be tested for without the subject being made aware of it.
Other attractive abilities are less quantifiable, but they are able to be determined. Mental skills and physical ability, both of these can be used as criteria for "fitness of purpose". Sport Scholarships are obvious, what about knowledge-based performance, multitasking? Have elimination exams, teach the same to different groups and you've got a known population from which you can garner the cream for further testing.
And frankly, having a hot pizza for lunch rather than half-raw devilrat would be more than enough incentive to learn.

-Tir.

OK, I've verbally berated Ryu enough that he's writing new stuff for the Shadow Skool, and an introduction to his "Think Tank", which is a rather interesting idea.

I'm also back into GMing Shadowrun, and will start working on Drug Spirits when I am able to.

And the Shadow Skool? Soon to be part of my 2070 campaign. Ah, politics... It's an election year, and someone has to think of the Children!

Yay!

The man entered the room and shook Absinthe’s hand with a wide smile.

“It’s been a while Doc. I got your message and came as soon as I could. What could possibly be out of the league of an old Bunsen Burner like you?”

“Hello Daniel. It would be this strange creature on the table… Ah! But first I should introduce you to my fellow faculty member. Daniel, this is our Kindergarten teacher Miss Black. Miss Black, this is ‘Deadwood’ Daniel, a fellow Think Tank member.”

There was a brief moment as the man in leather stared into the Miss Black’s eyes before bowing removing his hat and speaking softly several phrases in Navajo. She smiled in return and spoke a few phrases back before reverting to English.

“I am very pleased that the old ways are not yet lost. I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I was greeted so… formally Mister Deadwood.”

“My father may not have been a big believer in the old ways he did believe in heritage. He insisted that better to stand with one foot in the past then not have a leg to stand on at all.”

“Wise man, your father.”

“He was. Now if I may turn my attention to the matter at hand?”

She nodded and watched as Deadwood walked over to the table and after examining Absinthe’s warding bulbs and Meinrad’s runes before he began to chant softly, pulling various fetishes out of his coat and setting them down on the table. She glanced over at Absinthe and he glanced back.

“You keep interesting company, Ernest.”

“Mmm? Oh yes. Well Daniel is quite a bright lad. He’s an environmental engineer, you know.”

“Really? An Environmental Engineer?”

“Oh yes. Due to his life experiences he’s gotten a tremendous interest in the environment of our awakened and ravaged world. You see he grew up in a mining town where the profits were a little more important than such things as proper waste management. The air, water and soil were fouled, the cancer rate doubled and all the plant life either died or was twisted… hence the Town’s nickname of Deadwood.”

“How… horrible.” She gasped looking over at Deadwood as he shook an ornate rattle over the Toxic Spirit. “That explains the... odor that clings to his clothing. So he is called Deadwood because he comes from this town?”

“Actually it’s because he’s it’s last human resident. The mine ran out and everyone left, except him. He stayed behind and honed his shamanistic abilities as he earned his degree via uplink. He wants to help heal the earth and broker a peace between man and nature. “

“Noble goals.”

“Yes. He’s realistic about it, that the world will never be the same, but be thinks balance is a more realistic goal than turning back the clock. Truth be told I’m a little jealous of his strength of spirit.”

“You? Jealous? Be serious, Ernest.”

“It’s true! Think of what it must have been like to be a shaman, alone in a poisoned town. Were he a lesser man he might have fallen prey to the spiritual decay that has lead so many others down the toxic path. It’s why I thought of calling him first to see Oozy there.”

“I understand. His perspective is unique on this matter.”

They watched a few more minutes before Deadwood finished up and then spoke a few words into his commlink.

“Good news or bad news, folks?”

“Give us the good news Daniel.”

“Well Doc, you have discovered something new under the sun and yes, we got some people coming over from the…” he paused a moment glancing at Miss Black before continuing. “Well , from your place to deal with it.”

“And the Bad news?”

“This thing is trouble. Seeing the future isn’t my bag but I am getting a feeling from this thing that it’s just a small part of something far bigger and more dangerous. It is a twisted, toxic stew of… Bad Medicine. And it’s not happy. You got any more backup at this school or are Curley and Moe out there it?”

“I heard that!” came the muffled voice from the other side of the door.

“Mister Lee and Dodge are very competent but I did ask the faculty who had little better to do to remain behind and watch the exits. That’s nearly everyone... even our Librarian Ursula McCain. Don’t be fooled by her age, even at 102 she’s a devil with that shotgun.”

“You know Absinthe, I don’t know what’s more shocking. That you have a 102 year-old woman with a loaded shotgun or that this place possesses enough books to require a librarian on staff.”

“Welcome to the Shadowschool, Daniel.” smirked Miss Black.

Yay! More Shadowskool

Nurse Leo did his week-end inventory. Carefully accounting for the contents of the medical supplies was a chore that he didn’t care for but it was a necessity in the Skool. Some kids had a jonesing for something from the Nurse’s office and didn’t have the decency to ask… of course there were also those who just enjoyed proving that they could take something on the principal of the matter. He preferred the latter as they usually just left the stolen goods at the front office, the former he often wished he could catch and smack around a little.

Still it could be worse. Having no supplies whatsoever would have him reduced to using the red-hot poker type medicine too often seen in the barrens. He felt it fortunate that the Rockefellers paid for their children’s “tuition” in bulk medical supplies. There were far too many kids at this school who had never even gotten a decent check-up in their lives much less a tetanus shot, and there was only so much that he could skim from hospital supplies where he worked.

He paused a moment and sighed running his hand through his thick mane, the cat ears twitching in annoyance at the tedious task. Normally Red was more than happy to assist with anything accounting-related, and even though he admitted Leo’s chimerical nature “creeped him out” he enjoyed the task, but he was currently busy with something big. Leo wasn’t sure what it was but it was obviously enough to put the entire available faculty on alert. And so Leo was on alert too, in his own way. His office was his domain and he would report any intrusion on what might be the most sterile three rooms in a five mile radius.

He shook his head to clear the cobwebs and stepped out of the storage room, closing the heavy recycled steel door behind him and locking it. He needed a Double-strength soycaf if he was going to keep doing this. Going to his office he poured himself a cup and had a seat at his desk.

Despite the satisfaction he got from tending to the needy here, the Shadowskool was just a resource to him. Or at least that’s what Leo kept telling himself. It hadn’t been that long ago the comet passed by and changed his life forever. Considering some of the crap he had seen other chimera bitch-slapped with, turning into a living breathing Catboi was getting off easy. But if he had’ve looked like a cockroach then at least he wouldn’t have been drugged, had his skull and nervous system crammed full of wires and whored out at a Bunraku parlor. A wave of nausea hit as he remembered how many times he awoke in that cage, used, abused and his mind a total blank as to what happened. He was almost grateful that one client was into electroplay. It did something to his wired system that freed up his mind. Once he had a chance to think for himself, he had a chance to escape… and make sure that not only the others escaped, but also the owners never plagued anyone again.

Returning to work had been difficult after that, every once in a while a patient would give him THAT look, the one that said “I’ve had your furry tail”, but his personal jihad against unscrupulous Bunraku Parlors gave him an emotional outlet. That’s why he worked at the Shadowskool, gaining ‘credit’ so he could call in favors later when he needed them.

He paused and an ear twitched. He heard an obviously uneven gait coming down the hall to his door.

He sighed, puyt his soycaff down and sat up straight, Timmy had come for a visitation.

This convinced me to actually go and read the rules for changelings.

CatGrrls and CatBois are proof the Spirits love us and want us to be happy.

The Nurse’s office door opened hesitantly and in came a young boy who was almost painful to look at. Not because he was ugly, no in fact he had one of the most normal faces a kid could ask for. The problem lay in his bodywork. “Bodywork” being the key word.

Timmy was to put it mildly, accident prone. He had suffered more mishaps in his brief span on earth than could be natural. Some suggested he had been viciously cursed to suffer a painful demise for some transgression his parents had caused, some just shrugged and just called him a jinx. Whatever the reason none could deny he possessed a will to live that bordered on the supernatural… and a positive attitude that virtually invincible even if he was not.

His body was punctuated by obvious amounts of mismatched cyberware that not only was no doubt second hand but much of it wasn’t even meant for his metatype. Perhaps the most obvious being the left arm which must have belonged to a troll at some point. Rumor had it his parents were professional cyber-snatchers, explaining the use of so many so-not-off-the-rack parts.”

“Hello Timmy. Is something wrong?”

“Nothing that can’t wait until mom and dad get back, Mister Leo. I just have a bit more tension in lefty’s grip than I should. Kinda crushed my combination lock by accident today.”

“You are perhaps the only kid here who actually uses those lockers. Ok, Cybernetics aren’t my strong suit but can’t hurt to have a look.”

Taking the diversion from his inventory to heart he pulled out the simple penlight and examined the oversized limb. The light stabbed deep into it’s inner workings and a practiced eye found what he was looking for… an easy answer.

“There we go, Timmy. There’s a bullet lodged in the redundant neural relay cluster. It’s just connecting the circuit. I can pull it out but I’d say it’s harmless enough to wait until your parents get your cyberdoc to do it proper.”

“Yeah, I guess. Aw heck, I trust ya, Mister Leo.”

“Well that’s one of us.” He joked as he selected a pair of insulated tweezers from the drawer. “So any good rumors floating around the skool?”

“Well, they think Mr. Lee is a dragon in disguise now.”

“He is pretty old, and tough. Although I think becoming a dragon would be a demotion for him. Anything else?”

“Um, the Skool is really a way for Lone Star to develop profiles on new shadowrunners?”

“That one’s a little harder to shrug off, but do they really have enough Nuyen just to blow on a place just for that purpose? Gotta be easier ways to do that.”

“Yeah. Good point. Oh! They say you and Madame Q are seeing each other!”

He paused in his task to give the young man an incredulous expression of surprise.

“Madame Q? Me and the ‘social studies’ teacher? I gotta admit that she’s a very attractive woman but I’m not sure my mother would approve of me dating someone who teaches “Accounting for Negotiable Affection”, “Training for Personnel In Management Positions” and of course, my personal favorite, “Creative Dancing, 101”.”

“That’s the one with the brass pole, right?”

“I’m afraid so, Timmy.”

He took a pair of insulated tweezers and carefully removed the offending copper-coated slug from the apparatus. He could tell it had been in there for a while, nobody used them anymore. Way too expensive compared to steel jackets. Perhaps it was a souvenir from it’s previous owner. He closed the hatch on the arm and smiled.

“There you go Timmy. That should fix things.”

“Thanks Mister Leo. And I’m sorry I interrupted your time with your friends.”

“My friends?”

He slowly turned around and felt his fur stand on end. Two people were standing in his examination room, both looked like total ganger material. One bore the ugly look and colors of one of The Spikes and next to him was an elf, looking surprisingly elegant in biker leathers, who was an obvious Ancient. To have members of two viciously rival gangs standing there together in total silence was creepy enough but their skin was marred by a black pattern that reminded him of cracked pottery, and their eyes… He had seen black cosmetic eyeware before and never had it such a FLUID look to it.

The duo began to walk forwards and Leo narrowed his eyes, his hold-out pistol sliding from up his sleeve into his grip. Behind them the window in the examination room was wide open, not an easy task to achieve considering there had been a heavy plate of plassteel over it. The patience it must have taken to remove the heavy-gague screws and lower it to the ground without alerting anyone was impressive.

“Ok, that’s far enough boys. I don’t know what your game is but classes are over. Go home.”

As if on cue they both went for their guns, and the world slowed down for Leo. He felt that inner ‘push’ as he forced himself to move just a little faster than his opponents, and in the time their hands closed on the butts of their weapons he had pushed Timmy behind his desk and was raising his own weapon. By the time their pistols cleared their holsters he had squeezed off one round into the elf, hitting his gun-arm in the elbow causing a thick spray of molasses-like blood. The Troll’s hand cannon was level with Leo when he had the next target, it was a little skill and a lot of luck that caused the spray of buck to miss his face but he responded in kind squeezing off three bullets into the Spike’s weapon-arm, making it as useless as his partner’s.

In that moment it was over, time went back to normal, the guns were on the floor and the two stared dumbly at him as their useless weapon arms hung limply at their sides. He was set to crow a little but neither was screaming in pain like they should be, even the most doped up street-trash would acknowledge a destroyed arm even in passing. It was then they did the unexpected, they suddenly rushed him.

DUN DUN DUN! Good stuff keep it coming please.

Thanks.

Taking an earlier suggestion and started going back to move my Story-posts to a singular location to make it easier to read.

Check out the first chapter at http://ryusukanku.deviantart.com/

Leo felt himself being pushed back against his desk by the Troll and Elf, his body being bent backwards against the hard slab of laminated concrete. It was taking all his strength to keep the jagged bones of their ruined weapon arms from spearing him as they pressed the advantage.

The ‘push’ he had slid into at the beginning of combat hadn’t ended just because he had disarmed them, and he was thankful for that… and the inhuman level of flexibility he possessed. As they forced his shoulder blades to touch the flat desktop he had a heartbeat to take in more information about his foes.

Their eyes were black, but they seemed to be ‘weeping’ black tears, and their wounds were seeping a thick tar-like black syrup that was starting to numb him where it touched his flesh. The most disturbing thing was the completely dispassionate expressions they bore, as if this moment were not so much a life-and-death struggle but more akin to folding laundry. They were immune to pain and emotion, but that seemed to take the edge off of their speed. Yes there was a terrible inertia to their actions but they seemed to not have the frantic energy that most other people would have when fighting.

He wondered if this was the result of some manner of new nanotech rig that these two had gotten their hands on, or maybe a virulent new disease or infection, like those ones on the nature trids that made animals and insects act suicidal against their will. Then once that heartbeat of time was over he got his own head back in the game. He pulled his knees up to his chest and planting his feet against their sternums gave a hard shove, knocking them back. Taking this moment of breathing room he rolled off the desk and reaching a hand under it drew his well-worn Jian from the scabbard hidden beneath it.

Nicked and pitted by age as it seemed it was a working sword. The first time he had held it in his hands he had pulled it from the scabbard of the Bunraku parlor’s owner, taking him by surprise… right before he fed it to the bastard tip-first, severing his spine at the first and second vertebrae through the back of his mouth. That was right before he used it to slaughter his lieutenants where they stood. Since then he didn’t feel like casting it aside, it felt so natural in his hand. It seemed strange that back in high school when he had met lǎo shī māo, the who had taught him everything he knew about martial arts, he had never dreamed he use it to take a life, even with a sword. But as his mentor once said, “when your foes have no reverence for life, why should you?”

Wiping his hands off on his shirt to remove the ichor from them he gripped the Jian and struck. The two bikers had regained their footing and the slender steel of the blade homed in on the troll, sliding nearly effortlessly between the ribcage, right through his heart. Making an abrupt twist to the right before withdrawing the blade resulted in the troll’s cantaloupe-sized heart being cut in half. Leo felt it happen right through the pommel, and yet… the troll still stood.
The black goo tinged the sword where it had sunk in, there was no mistaking he had provided a lethal blow to the biker, and yet he seemed unfazed.

They started to attack once more, and Leo was less sure of himself this time, but he wasn’t out of tricks yet. He twisted out of their way, dodging their grappling attempts with his accelerated speed, then he willed a different push within himself. Rechanneling his chi into a new pattern. This time the length of his sword crackled to life, blue lightning traveling from hilt to tip, turning the ichor on the blade to ghostly steam. He spun behind the Elf, slashing the electrified blade across the backs of his knees, severing tendons and finally eliciting a terrible shriek of agony from him as his feather-fine hair stood up and curled from the power coursing through him. The elf fell to the floor and started coughing up obscene amounts of black Bile, surprising Leo and causing him to momentarily forget the Spike which started charging him… then was stopped cold as Four very large metal fingers and a thumb encircled his head… and squeezed it like a large black-puss-filled pimple.

The headless body dropped to the floor oozing black in thick spurts as Timmy stood there, his troll-sized cyber arm dripping in goo. His face looked deadly serious as he took a few deep breaths and then examined his hand.
“I hope you aren’t mad at me Mister Leo. It’s just…”

“You did the right thing Timmy.” Leo interjected, a little surprised that the gentle boy was capable of making such a hard decision.

“Wow… this stuff is… Mister Leo, this stuff is trying to crawl into my works. My Nanohive is taking care of it, but I thought you should know.”

Glancing down at the twin corpses, Leo suddenly realized that both were looking almost desiccated as the black slime was vacating them and pooling into a large central mass on his floor. It was starting to rise up like yeast-filed bread dough and he narrowed his eyes.

“Glad your parents finally got that Nanohive in you then. Ok Timmy. Here’s what I want you to do… Run out that door and go tell the first teachers you see about this.”

“And what are you gonna do?”

Leo hefted his sword, the blue lightning had purified it of the taint in moments. He then Plunged it’s length into the black mass and swore somewhere at the back of his head he heard an echo of a shriek as it literally boiled away to dust.

“A quick room-to-room search. Something tells me this is just the beginning.

Awesome fight scene!

Also: Yay, the Shadow Skool is back!!!

This thread is full of win. Man, having school back in session has never been so much fun.

Wish my mind was in better shape, I'd stat out those Drug Spirits...

Hitting the chips a little hard?

I wish, then I could just stop whenever I wanted. (I just don't want to.).

Don't know what it is, major blocks. I was writing so well for awhile there, too. Oh well, something to work on.

Wish I could give you some of the stuff I'm running on. I've been burning up recently, desperately trying to find an outlet for all this damn creativity. I wrote a feature-length movie earlier.

I bow down in awe of the creative talents and arguments hidden within this thread. Both the Shadowskool story as well as discussion connected to it is pure AWESOME.

Keep gimme some moar!

More ShadowSkool? OK, how about this...

Reach into your contacts, folks. How many might be students (Adult Education Courses are available!), or might possibly be teachers or supporters in the Skool? Bet there's more than you'd think.

ESL and JSL courses alone would be filled to the brim constantly!

sweet! nice to see this thread resurrected

I can imagine a runner-started corp that clandestinely sets these schools up in several sprawls.

Kessler looked up from his canvas and compared the Japanese character he has just completed to the one Mr. Yamazato had posted on the board in front of the class. He got the radicals right but Mr. Yamazato kept complaining over things such as "Balance" and "Stroke order", something Kessler still couldnt understand.

Kessler had chosen the course "Basic Japanese" in order to communicate better with potential Japanese "clients" over the sights of his LMG, but after three lessons of reciting "A-I-U-E-O" and various polite requests, the 4`8" little Japanese salaryman had handed all his students a small paint brush, some black ink, some thin rough paper and asked his students, politely of course, to the paint the characters he had posten on the board.
Kessler seriously doubted this exercise would be useful during extractions and was sure that a Cyberarm with a built-in Gyromount wasnt designed for this, especially since he now had ink everywhere. On his urban fatigues, in his buzz-cut hair, his right tusk and pretty sure also in the circuits of his right arm. Mr. Yamazato had stated caligraphy would stregthen their resolve and bring inner balance if only the students painted the characters perfectly.

Kessler wasnt the only adult in the classroom, nor was he the only ork but he seemed to be the only one having problems with this damn brush. How the children could paint their characters so beautifully and master the language so much quicker than him was beyond Kessler. To him it would be a much easier task to suppress a large area with his LMG than politely request another cup of tea in Japanese.
Then it hit him. Mr Yamazato had suggested that all the students should try and combine their interests with learning the language. Trying to paint the characters with bullet holes seemed impossible but what if...
Kessler pulled out a belt of LMG rounds and started painting on the projectiles, one character on each bullet. "SU" "MI" "MA" "SE" "N" "DE" "MO" "JA" MA" "DA". There, that was one long burst, maybe he should write "thank you very much" in Japanese on the next set of 10 rounds.

After Kessler started in bursts instead of strokes Japanese began much easier for him...

...
OOC
Well that was utter crap. I do not possess the artistic spirit of Ryu ^^ I was just trying to imaging my ork mercenary trying to learn Basic Japanese at the ShadowSkool

All good, man. Ryu didn't start out the way he did. I certainly put out a lot of drek before I was confident enough to put things online (And, well, it's still Drek, but that only because it's mostly unedited.).

Certainly a good way to find out a bit about how to write in Japanese. And seen Kessler will be able to write "Have a nice death" on his belts to make it that much more insulting!

Was that what he wrote?

-says the shameless gaijin.

Given my relatively rough Japanese, it's not an exact translation, but I'm pretty sure that's "Sorry, but, see you" (Literal translation)

Someone with a better understanding of Japanese is welcome to correct me, my informal Japanese is not that great.

I know English and Bad English. (I learned the second from a Call Center job talking to New Yorkers.).

Hell, I wasn't even able to learn French in the city with the largest Francophone population outside of Quebec.

Well the problem with sumimasen is that it can translate about a half dozen different ways depending on the characters actually used. The most common usage (based largely on watching a lot of anime) seems to be either sorry or excuse me, but a quick google search shows that the literal translation of the word is essentially something along the lines of "it does not end" or "it is not finished".

In context, the usage is probably sorry, but it's one of those things with Japanese where knowing the characters used makes a difference in the translation.

His next one would probably be A RI GA TO GO ZA I MA SHI TA to get 10 bullets, which is essentially a past tense "thank you very much" (present tense would only get you 9)

Hmmmmmmmmmmm, wonder what you could write on the whole nine yards?

(For those that don't know, the .50 MGs on airplanes in WWII were given belts of ammo that were supposedly nine yards long. To give someone "The Whole Nine Yards" was to empty your guns at them.).