Bob - Friday, March 27th, 2071; 20:13: 7300 S J St, Tacoma District, Seattle Metroplex
In the small room, the sound of the hand cannon, combined with explosion of the ammunition echos in the room like a lightning strike. The top of the ork's head paints the wall like an impressionist painting.
Full Version: IC: Introduction to the Barrens
Bob - Friday, March 27th, 2071; 20:13: 7300 S J St, Tacoma District, Seattle Metroplex
Take out their little mage! I snarled mentally, hoping the mental link with the spirit would convey the urgency I felt.
The splash of the brains on the wall had jolted me like a zap from a faulty pachinko machine. Guess the guy had it coming. I was sweating openly now, greased up like a circus seal during showtime. This kind of action always affected me like this. I knew I'd get the shakes later, something I'd have to cure with a few pulls from mama's teat, aka my hip flask. For now, I had other worries. I put my sweaty palm on the door handle and pulled with all my might, my revolver aimed squarely at the opening. Maybe unlike his friend this thug would want to live.
Take out their little mage! I snarled mentally, hoping the mental link with the spirit would convey the urgency I felt.
The splash of the brains on the wall had jolted me like a zap from a faulty pachinko machine. Guess the guy had it coming. I was sweating openly now, greased up like a circus seal during showtime. This kind of action always affected me like this. I knew I'd get the shakes later, something I'd have to cure with a few pulls from mama's teat, aka my hip flask. For now, I had other worries. I put my sweaty palm on the door handle and pulled with all my might, my revolver aimed squarely at the opening. Maybe unlike his friend this thug would want to live.
Bob - Friday, March 27th, 2071; 20:13: 7300 S J St, Tacoma District, Seattle Metroplex
Standing in the doorway is the human male. The color is still draining from his face as Bob's hand cannon swings his direction. He drops the backpack he is holding and begins to back away, slowly.
In the view of the fly-spy downstairs, the dwarf, moving faster than Bob thought possible, runs across the room the window and awkwardly scambles out the window. The eye-ball tracks the dwarf to a thud on the ground. The girl yells out, "Jimmy?! Jimmy! Speak to me!"
Standing in the doorway is the human male. The color is still draining from his face as Bob's hand cannon swings his direction. He drops the backpack he is holding and begins to back away, slowly.
In the view of the fly-spy downstairs, the dwarf, moving faster than Bob thought possible, runs across the room the window and awkwardly scambles out the window. The eye-ball tracks the dwarf to a thud on the ground. The girl yells out, "Jimmy?! Jimmy! Speak to me!"
Bob - Friday, March 27th, 2071; 20:13: 7300 S J St, Tacoma District, Seattle Metroplex
"On the ground. NOW. Before I put you there myself!"
I accompanied my threat with a cocking of the hammer, trying to center the dancing red dot of the laser sight right between this scumbags eyes. I wanted him to see the red light accompanied by the dark tunnel of the barrel, a devilish brightness that was possibly the last thing he'd ever see. I definitely didn't want him to see the tremble in my hand, bad as a junkie's before payday. Or see the sweat dripping off of me, the tip of my nose turned into a diving board for adventurous drops. No siree Bob (my little joke), I needed to take control here, and fast.
The girl was yelling for "Jimmy", this was good. It meant she wasn't preparing for a spirit or spell to rain down on me. What's the situation with the girl and that damned racoon spirit ?!!?
"On the ground. NOW. Before I put you there myself!"
I accompanied my threat with a cocking of the hammer, trying to center the dancing red dot of the laser sight right between this scumbags eyes. I wanted him to see the red light accompanied by the dark tunnel of the barrel, a devilish brightness that was possibly the last thing he'd ever see. I definitely didn't want him to see the tremble in my hand, bad as a junkie's before payday. Or see the sweat dripping off of me, the tip of my nose turned into a diving board for adventurous drops. No siree Bob (my little joke), I needed to take control here, and fast.
The girl was yelling for "Jimmy", this was good. It meant she wasn't preparing for a spirit or spell to rain down on me. What's the situation with the girl and that damned racoon spirit ?!!?
Bob - Friday, March 27th, 2071; 20:13: 7300 S J St, Tacoma District, Seattle Metroplex
Stealing a quick glance at Bob's splatter artwork on the wall that was his friend's brains, the man slowly kneels and lowers himself to the ground.
"The raccoon spirit was just here. It flew back downstairs."
Stealing a quick glance at Bob's splatter artwork on the wall that was his friend's brains, the man slowly kneels and lowers himself to the ground.
"The raccoon spirit was just here. It flew back downstairs."
Bob - Friday, March 27th, 2071; 20:13: 7300 S J St, Tacoma District, Seattle Metroplex
Luckily the gutterpunk was on the ground already and didn't see the shaking in my hand that would've betrayed me. Frag was I grateful that I didn't have to aerate another set of drek-for-brains. Dog was growling low in my throat, still hostile but controlled. Concerned. I needed to be gone from here but soon. No telling what the fuzz would make of this scene, probably try to pin the blame on me for these idiots.
I drew a steading breath, felt like the first one I'd had since setting foot in this house. The magic came easier this time, so I used it's soothing power to cast my net, fishing like a drowning man in a hurricane. My feet carried me forward until I was near the prone figure of the ganger.
"Why are you punks here? What do you know about Mitch Long?!"
So far, these trash were my best lead. Pretty pathetic, I know. But a man in my position couldn't be choosy. I prayed like a man just receiving the results of his HMHVV test - let THIS turn out in my favor. One way or the other.
"That's just great. Keep me updated on the raccoon spirit".
Luckily the gutterpunk was on the ground already and didn't see the shaking in my hand that would've betrayed me. Frag was I grateful that I didn't have to aerate another set of drek-for-brains. Dog was growling low in my throat, still hostile but controlled. Concerned. I needed to be gone from here but soon. No telling what the fuzz would make of this scene, probably try to pin the blame on me for these idiots.
I drew a steading breath, felt like the first one I'd had since setting foot in this house. The magic came easier this time, so I used it's soothing power to cast my net, fishing like a drowning man in a hurricane. My feet carried me forward until I was near the prone figure of the ganger.
"Why are you punks here? What do you know about Mitch Long?!"
So far, these trash were my best lead. Pretty pathetic, I know. But a man in my position couldn't be choosy. I prayed like a man just receiving the results of his HMHVV test - let THIS turn out in my favor. One way or the other.
"That's just great. Keep me updated on the raccoon spirit".
Bob - Friday, March 27th, 2071; 20:13: 7300 S J St, Tacoma District, Seattle Metroplex
"I was leavin' man. Its a mistake... Tell Mr Long we're sorry..." The smuck is now under the impression that the owner of the house is Mitch Long.
The spirits voice drifts into your brain, the monotone sound alone almost depressing you further. "The raccoon has returned. He is spying on you."
"I was leavin' man. Its a mistake... Tell Mr Long we're sorry..." The smuck is now under the impression that the owner of the house is Mitch Long.
The spirits voice drifts into your brain, the monotone sound alone almost depressing you further. "The raccoon has returned. He is spying on you."
Bob - Friday, March 27th, 2071; 20:13: 7300 S J St, Tacoma District, Seattle Metroplex
Couldn't worry about that sneaky snitch now. Had to get away from this scene.
"Throw me your 'link and then get outta here. You make any dumb moves, I see you or any your crew again, I ventilate your skull. Now move. "
I prepared to deal with the situation by the bed next. What a mess.
Couldn't worry about that sneaky snitch now. Had to get away from this scene.
"Throw me your 'link and then get outta here. You make any dumb moves, I see you or any your crew again, I ventilate your skull. Now move. "
I prepared to deal with the situation by the bed next. What a mess.
Bob - Friday, March 27th, 2071; 20:13: 7300 S J St, Tacoma District, Seattle Metroplex
The thug looks up, hesitating on the words, looks again at Bob's hand cannon before throwing his comlink. He then back to the stairs, meeting the girl, growls something at her and Bob sees them, via the fly-spy, head for the window. The duo proceed out the window after the dwarf. The male picks up Bob's i-ball, but after a quick word from the girl about "He's a mage, with a spirit and everything." he tosses the i-ball to the side, deciding not to press his luck any further.
As Bob surveys the room, he finds the man and woman still in their bed, looking to Bob and a child is now in the doorway looking in, rubbing its eyes. "What was that noise?"
The thug looks up, hesitating on the words, looks again at Bob's hand cannon before throwing his comlink. He then back to the stairs, meeting the girl, growls something at her and Bob sees them, via the fly-spy, head for the window. The duo proceed out the window after the dwarf. The male picks up Bob's i-ball, but after a quick word from the girl about "He's a mage, with a spirit and everything." he tosses the i-ball to the side, deciding not to press his luck any further.
As Bob surveys the room, he finds the man and woman still in their bed, looking to Bob and a child is now in the doorway looking in, rubbing its eyes. "What was that noise?"
Bob - Friday, March 27th, 2071; 20:13: 7300 S J St, Tacoma District, Seattle Metroplex
Ignoring the question and the obvious explanations needed, I made plans to make sure that this group didn't come back for revenge. I mentally sent my last command to the old man. Ok, follow that punk that was on the floor and tell me where he ends up. Then you're free to go, do whatever it is you do...
After picking up the tossed commlink, I put my hand cannon away and proceeded to the bedside, where I quickly searched the ork's corpse. Never know what you can find on a gutterpunk like this. And I can use all the cash I can find. I'm not yet at the level of a Tamanous regular, didn't have them on speed dial or anything. But I was about one missed rent payment away from parting them out like an old car. So anything I could scavenge works. Hopefully he'd have a commlink as well, if nothing else.
While I rifled the body I addressed the old couple, gave them the speech I give all the time, could give in my sleep or at my drunk blackest. Which had happened many times before, come to think of it.
"Hope you folks are alright. It'd be best if you didn't mention too many details to the fuzz when they arrive. About me, anyway. You could say these gangers fought amongst themselves, caused all this mess. Now you have a good evening."
With the speech given and the body well and truly picked clean of valuables, I turned and ran down the stairs, grabbing up the iBall on my way out. Hated the thought of cleaning this thing yet again. Damn thing was more trouble than it was worth.
Ignoring the question and the obvious explanations needed, I made plans to make sure that this group didn't come back for revenge. I mentally sent my last command to the old man. Ok, follow that punk that was on the floor and tell me where he ends up. Then you're free to go, do whatever it is you do...
After picking up the tossed commlink, I put my hand cannon away and proceeded to the bedside, where I quickly searched the ork's corpse. Never know what you can find on a gutterpunk like this. And I can use all the cash I can find. I'm not yet at the level of a Tamanous regular, didn't have them on speed dial or anything. But I was about one missed rent payment away from parting them out like an old car. So anything I could scavenge works. Hopefully he'd have a commlink as well, if nothing else.
While I rifled the body I addressed the old couple, gave them the speech I give all the time, could give in my sleep or at my drunk blackest. Which had happened many times before, come to think of it.
"Hope you folks are alright. It'd be best if you didn't mention too many details to the fuzz when they arrive. About me, anyway. You could say these gangers fought amongst themselves, caused all this mess. Now you have a good evening."
With the speech given and the body well and truly picked clean of valuables, I turned and ran down the stairs, grabbing up the iBall on my way out. Hated the thought of cleaning this thing yet again. Damn thing was more trouble than it was worth.
Bob - Friday, March 27th, 2071; 20:13: 7300 S J St, Tacoma District, Seattle Metroplex
The child stood there, then as Bob moved to the ork, the child moved to the old man at the bed. A quick search of the body reveals a disposable comlink, a small wad of corporate script, several nuyen coins, a mostly empty cigarette package, a disposable lighter, a pair of cheap wireless ear buds, and a keyring with a small key and the picture of a young ork mother with a baby.
As Bob turns his attention back to the couple, he sees the woman has crawled under the covers and rolled over, pressing her face into the man's chest. He is sitting up a little in bed, one arm around the old woman, the other around the child, who sneaks a glance at Bob from under the old man's arm. His eyes are locked on Bob half fearful, half curious. After his speech, the old man simply, quietly, nods.
Bob makes his way down through the house and out the ground floor window. The i-ball safely stowed in his pocket, the fly-spy shows no pursuit. He still feels the spirit's presence on this plane as it follows his last command.
The child stood there, then as Bob moved to the ork, the child moved to the old man at the bed. A quick search of the body reveals a disposable comlink, a small wad of corporate script, several nuyen coins, a mostly empty cigarette package, a disposable lighter, a pair of cheap wireless ear buds, and a keyring with a small key and the picture of a young ork mother with a baby.
As Bob turns his attention back to the couple, he sees the woman has crawled under the covers and rolled over, pressing her face into the man's chest. He is sitting up a little in bed, one arm around the old woman, the other around the child, who sneaks a glance at Bob from under the old man's arm. His eyes are locked on Bob half fearful, half curious. After his speech, the old man simply, quietly, nods.
Bob makes his way down through the house and out the ground floor window. The i-ball safely stowed in his pocket, the fly-spy shows no pursuit. He still feels the spirit's presence on this plane as it follows his last command.
Bob - Friday, March 27th, 2071; 20:13: 7300 S J St, Tacoma District, Seattle Metroplex
I hoofed it back to my car as quickly as I could. This high wasn't going to last forever, and when it was gone I was going to feel like 10 pounds of drek in a 5 pound bag. Nothing a quick nip from my trusty sidearm couldn't cure. The OTHER sidearm, mind you. Both sidearms could kill a man, but this one did it more slowly.
After sending the disarm and unlock codes, I slipped into my Jackrabbit and settled in to the seat with a sigh. I didn't normally like to run with the autopilot on, but I felt tonight was a special case. The twists of pain were starting deep in my core and soon I'd be having that junky shake, recognizable to anyone that's had the monkey on their back. So the car's pilot program received my commands and started up, a course plotted to take me back to the devil rat nest I call home. Imagine that, me riding high like an Emperor, driven home in my golden chariot. Yeah, imagine that.
In the meanwhile I leaned the seat back and pulled my hat over my eyes - I could do what I needed to do with my eyes closed. I'd just close them for a moment, a moment while I had my agent search my newest acquisitions, the commlinks recently received from the lowlifes of a few moments prior.
I hoofed it back to my car as quickly as I could. This high wasn't going to last forever, and when it was gone I was going to feel like 10 pounds of drek in a 5 pound bag. Nothing a quick nip from my trusty sidearm couldn't cure. The OTHER sidearm, mind you. Both sidearms could kill a man, but this one did it more slowly.
After sending the disarm and unlock codes, I slipped into my Jackrabbit and settled in to the seat with a sigh. I didn't normally like to run with the autopilot on, but I felt tonight was a special case. The twists of pain were starting deep in my core and soon I'd be having that junky shake, recognizable to anyone that's had the monkey on their back. So the car's pilot program received my commands and started up, a course plotted to take me back to the devil rat nest I call home. Imagine that, me riding high like an Emperor, driven home in my golden chariot. Yeah, imagine that.
In the meanwhile I leaned the seat back and pulled my hat over my eyes - I could do what I needed to do with my eyes closed. I'd just close them for a moment, a moment while I had my agent search my newest acquisitions, the commlinks recently received from the lowlifes of a few moments prior.
Bob - Saturday, March 28th, 2071 @8:03: Parking lot at Bob's Office, The McGuire Building, NE 85th St & 128th Ave NE, Touristville, Redmond District, Seattle Metroplex
The spotlight was bright, blinding him from seeing anything else. He yelled at his tormentors, who laughed at his cries while their hammers slammed against his head, causing him in turn to yell again, causing his head to hurt worse. He thrashed, his arms slapping against the walls of his small cell... then he sat up, smacking his head against the roof, causing more pain, but of a different kind. Rubbing his throbbing head, the laughter turned to giggles. Shading his eyes from the spotlight, he made out the faces of several small children looking in through the windows of his cell. Such a strange cell, it looks so much like his car. He rubbed his eyes again, blocking the sun- yes, the sun, not a spotlight. The cell is his car, actually. The hammers, nothing more than the throbbing of his hangover. The neighborhood children giggling at him, they are real.
The spotlight was bright, blinding him from seeing anything else. He yelled at his tormentors, who laughed at his cries while their hammers slammed against his head, causing him in turn to yell again, causing his head to hurt worse. He thrashed, his arms slapping against the walls of his small cell... then he sat up, smacking his head against the roof, causing more pain, but of a different kind. Rubbing his throbbing head, the laughter turned to giggles. Shading his eyes from the spotlight, he made out the faces of several small children looking in through the windows of his cell. Such a strange cell, it looks so much like his car. He rubbed his eyes again, blocking the sun- yes, the sun, not a spotlight. The cell is his car, actually. The hammers, nothing more than the throbbing of his hangover. The neighborhood children giggling at him, they are real.
Bob - Saturday, March 28th, 2071 @8:05: Parking lot at Bob's Office, The McGuire Building, NE 85th St & 128th Ave NE, Touristville, Redmond District, Seattle Metroplex
The hammers that were banging away on my skull quieted a little after I took a pull from my hip flask. Hair o' the dog, Angelo would say. This dog was mean and mangy and uglier than a ten-nuyen whore, but he was an old friend. I took another swig and swiped my forearm across my mouth, my sleeve scratching loudly against my five o'clock shadow. I must've looked about how I felt. I tried to close my eyes for a moment but the spotlight blinded me again. These street kids seemed about as likely to leave me alone as my case of hemorrhoids did. There was no going back to sleep now, much as I wanted to. Time to get up and get going.
I cracked the door and yelled a few curses at the brats as they swarmed around me. Worthless little runts, their shrieks were causing those hammers to come back with their older brothers. Sledgehammers, seemed like. I dropped a few loose cred into their grimy little hands to get them out of my hair. That reminded me, I grabbed my old fedora from the seat and slammed the door before any of the bastards could worm their way inside. The pleasing way they scattered when I engaged the security system was only marred by the intense jolt of pain the noise shot through the front of my brain. Jackhammers now - the older cousins had arrived. Grimacing I headed for the nearest hole-in-the-wall diner, determined to suffer through what passed for eggs and toast and coffee in the shithole little restaurant. Maybe I could have a little peace as I ate my breakfast and waited to see what my agent had found on the 'Net. Yeah, maybe.
The hammers that were banging away on my skull quieted a little after I took a pull from my hip flask. Hair o' the dog, Angelo would say. This dog was mean and mangy and uglier than a ten-nuyen whore, but he was an old friend. I took another swig and swiped my forearm across my mouth, my sleeve scratching loudly against my five o'clock shadow. I must've looked about how I felt. I tried to close my eyes for a moment but the spotlight blinded me again. These street kids seemed about as likely to leave me alone as my case of hemorrhoids did. There was no going back to sleep now, much as I wanted to. Time to get up and get going.
I cracked the door and yelled a few curses at the brats as they swarmed around me. Worthless little runts, their shrieks were causing those hammers to come back with their older brothers. Sledgehammers, seemed like. I dropped a few loose cred into their grimy little hands to get them out of my hair. That reminded me, I grabbed my old fedora from the seat and slammed the door before any of the bastards could worm their way inside. The pleasing way they scattered when I engaged the security system was only marred by the intense jolt of pain the noise shot through the front of my brain. Jackhammers now - the older cousins had arrived. Grimacing I headed for the nearest hole-in-the-wall diner, determined to suffer through what passed for eggs and toast and coffee in the shithole little restaurant. Maybe I could have a little peace as I ate my breakfast and waited to see what my agent had found on the 'Net. Yeah, maybe.
Bob - Saturday, March 28th, 2071 @8:30: Howards Cafe, across from Bob's Office, The McGuire Building, NE 85th St & 128th Ave NE, Touristville, Redmond District, Seattle Metroplex
The soy eggs looked like runny snot, if snot were neon yellow and filled with powdery clumps. I think the yellow was an indication that the cafe used powdered "I Can't Believe It's Not Cheez-Whiz", but I couldn't tell you for sure. My gut was telling me different things as the eggs and toast hit my stomach like a punch from a troll bouncer. After last night's drinking and running around, and this morning's breakfast, I could feel the urge to defile the restroom rising in me like a bug spirit invading it's host. At least the soykaf was hot. I mentally pushed the AR button in my peripheral vision to signal for another refill. Say what you might about the food here, but once you became a regular you could get all the soykaf you could stomach. As I blew on the rim of my mug, I sent a quick message.
The soy eggs looked like runny snot, if snot were neon yellow and filled with powdery clumps. I think the yellow was an indication that the cafe used powdered "I Can't Believe It's Not Cheez-Whiz", but I couldn't tell you for sure. My gut was telling me different things as the eggs and toast hit my stomach like a punch from a troll bouncer. After last night's drinking and running around, and this morning's breakfast, I could feel the urge to defile the restroom rising in me like a bug spirit invading it's host. At least the soykaf was hot. I mentally pushed the AR button in my peripheral vision to signal for another refill. Say what you might about the food here, but once you became a regular you could get all the soykaf you could stomach. As I blew on the rim of my mug, I sent a quick message.
QUOTE (Redjack @ Jul 4 2012, 04:14 AM) 
<<@Bob [Delores] I'll put some packets together for you this evening.>>
<<@Delores [Bob] You got anything more for me darlin?>>
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