Shadowrun RP (characterinfo+gameplay)

littleRED · 2012-02-06T22:24:50-01:00

1. NeoStriker as N: Spoiler:PICTURE: STATS: (3) Body (5) Mind (4) Soul (35) Health Points (45) Energy Points (7) Shock Value (4) Combat Attack (2) Combat Defense (16) Max. Possible Unarmed Damage DESCRIPTION: Name: N Shadowname: N Gender: N/A Race: N/A Age: N/A Looks: Wears a white mask and a white jacket with a hood to obscure all of N's features, making it impossible to tell what gender, race, or age N is. Personality: Happiness-oriented and utility-oriented. Plays a support role on missions, and does not talk. Skills/Powers: Rigger Weaknesses: Mute Background: N first appeared five years ago, at a cafe drinking tea. N now works there as a waiter, cook, and cashier. N spends time playing with the neighborhood kids, tutoring students, repairing nearby buildings, and general odd jobs that could be considered community service. During this "civilian" state, N is generally considered as a natural phenomenon of good will and reliable help. Unknown to the civilians, N is also a shadowrunner, specializing in rigging. 2. Wordmangler2000 as Harrison Carruthers: Spoiler:PICTURE: STATS: (2) Body (7) Mind (7) Soul (45) Health Points (70/100/130) Energy Points (9) Shock Value (5) Combat Attack (3) Combat Defense (23) Max. Possible Unarmed Damage DESCRIPTION: Name: Harrison Carruthers, Ph.D. Shadowname: "The shadows"? Oh my. That sounds rather dicey. No thank you. Gender: Hm. Well you see, that's rather hard to express just now. Race: [shaking head] I'm really finding this form very difficult to fill out. I'm sorry, is it permissible to write in the margins? Age: I'm well over 100, I can attest to that. I actually have a paper birth certificate, can you imagine such a thing, in this day and age? Looks: I don't entirely look myself, these days. Personality: I may seem a bit stiff at first, but after a glass of fine sherry you'll find me the jolliest of fellows. Or, um...whatever. Skills/Powers: I am extremely persuasive. When I make a case, people come to agree -- provided, of course, I am allowed the requisite time to make my argument. That may take a while. But if I am allowed to make a rigorous appeal to reason, no one can resist. I have a comprehensive knowledge of prehistory and legends. People today think all knowledge is available on the Matrix. But there's a level of knowledge beneath/behind the Matrix, and among the folk tales and half-remembered dreams and legends of improbable heroes one can find real wisdom -- and solutions to current problems that seem insoluble. I have a theory about what happened to our world, why magic broke out. An essential principle at the heart of reality has been tainted, and the fate of the world hangs in the balance. My secret ambition is to excise the poison and heal the world. I know poisons and potions for all purposes. When the ingredients are not readily available I tend to make substitutions that seem reasonable to me, but these ad hoc recipe revisions often backfire, with consequences ranging from humorous to disastrous. I read a page with a single blink, an entire book in less than a minute. And I have a photographic memory. This may seem to be of limited use in the era of the Matrix, but could come in handy if we find ourselves outside the Matrix's sphere of influence (yes, such spots do still exist on earth) or if the Matrix goes down for some reason. And, as I have hinted before, not all wisdom was allowed into the Matrix by the gatekeepers who set it up. They had an agenda, and it wasn't entirely for our benefit. Weaknesses: I am easily distracted. It's hard to keep me working toward an agreed-upon goal because I am always looking about and finding new interests. I am of very little good in a fight. A good punch in the nose is all it takes to make me retire to the corner and cry like a little girl. I may join your team, but you can never be sure my goals are entirely aligned with yours. I have my own agenda, and I'll play along with you as long as they are consistent. My powers of deceit are immense...you'll never suspect that my commitment is temporary and provisional. Oh, and one more thing. As far as the Matrix is concerned, I don't exist. This is inconvenient -- I can't use global positioning to find out where I am or gain directions to another location, for instance. But it does mean that I can conduct even the most sensitive of inquiries without being traced. Background: Ah. Here we go. I was human when all this began, so many years ago. I was teaching literature and classics at Yale when the first metahumans began to appear among us. I petitioned the university and was awarded permission to launch a series of classes and seminars about the historical and philosophical grounding of the phenomena that were shaking the world. I found it particularly interesting that the new races appearing among us were types that had been thoroughly explored in literature from around the world. They weren't new -- it was almost as if we had a racial memory of them. They conformed to archetypes that underlay our understanding of the world. Had we created them out of our collective unconscious? And if so, what more might we create? I assembled a cross-disciplinary panel of the world's leading academics and we began detailing the correspondences between world events and folk traditions. We saw immediately that this was no random series of events. There was a pattern to what was happening, a clear progression, and -- probably -- a coordinating intelligence behind it all. I was preparing to summarize these findings in the keynote address (and several subsequent lectures) of our worldwide group's first annual conference...when I was abducted. I have no memory of where I was taken or what was done to me there. I know that when I returned to consciousness, thousands of miles from Yale, three years had passed. The world had been altered, as you know from your history books -- er, history nodules on the Matrix. The scheme was proceeding as my colleagues and I had predicted. I tried to locate my colleagues, but they were nowhere to be found. In fact, all trace that they had ever existed was gone. The Internet -- and later, the Matrix -- held no trace of them. It was as if they had never been born. Yale had never heard of me. My birth records were gone. I had been erased from the infosphere. Oh, and one more thing. I wasn't an overweight, balding, middle-aged college professor anymore. I was a dryad. A blue-skinned female elf. I'm about a meter tall (or three feet, as we would have said in the good old days). My hair color varies. (If you pay close attention you can tell my mood and energy level by reading my hair color.) I wear it in a single long braid down my back. Dryad. Of the nymph variety. More specifically, a naiad. More specifically still, a potamide. You can look it up. Yes, I have my own freshwater home/shrine. No, I won't tell you where it is. All of my human personality traits and knowledge are intact as far as I know -- and what a chilling thought that is, that I must append "as far as I know" to such an assertion! I find that I also have knowledge of elf-lore. I can perform limited spells, craft potions and poisons, understand the speech of animals and the slow dreams of trees. I can't spend much time in cities. It's as if I'm allergic. My skin burns, my thoughts turn jumbled, eventually I lose consciousness. I'm sure if I stayed too long in an urban environment I would die. I find it endlessly fascinating to have awakened in a female body. I retain my male-hetero viewpoint; I am attracted to other females. The only change, if any, is that my libido is much stronger in this body than it was in my middle-aged male form. I guess you would call me a lesbian. Or something. My knowledge of the ancient myths and legends that underlie our current world gives me a limited foreknowledge of what is to come. In my dryad form, this knowledge is augmented by prophetic dreams. My dreams show what is to come. They are not always 100 percent accurate, however. With great effort (or with the participation of chance, which turns out to be one of the elemental forces of the modern world), fate can be changed. I am not prepared to reveal my stake in all of this. Not yet. Suffice it to say that I have been granted a glimpse of the future, and I am unwilling to accept it. I'm looking for comrades to help me save the world. And they must be willing to accept this task on faith...because I cannot yet reveal all of what I know and I suspect. That knowledge is a heavy, heavy burden, and for now I must carry it alone.3. ToyManC as Rudy the Rat (NPC): Spoiler: PICTURE: STATS: (5) Body (7) Mind (4) Soul (45) Health Points (55/85) Energy Points (9) Shock Value (5/10) Combat Attack (3/8) Combat Defense (21/41) Max. Possible Unarmed Damage DESCRIPTION: Name: Rufus Allen Detweiler Shadowname: 'Rudy the Rat,' slang for his initials R.D. and his fondness for his cyber-enhanced pet rats. Gender: male Race: Dwarf Age: 62 (One of the first Dwarfs (dwarves?) born in the Seattle area. He has never left this city. Looks: Average height (for a Dwarf); Brown hair and beard (both trimmed short) starting to turn gray; Pale coloring, from being inside all the time; Has a long scar running from the top of his head down the side of his face, to just below his right ear; His face looks pinched and angry, when in public; Physically fit, but not muscular, he avoids cyber-enhancements, as they interfere with his natural cyber connection. Personality: Has almost a dual personality. In person, he is a dour, introverted type, prone to mono-syllabic responses to questions. In the Matrix, however, he is a person of influence and status. Within the Matrix, he is communicative and outgoing. A skilled multitasker, he is capable of running his daily life, while also handling his business on the Matrix, without breaking his outside persona. Seldom shows anger, except when approached by religious personages [Am unfamiliar w/ state of religion in Shadowrun, but assume it still exists]. Extremely discomforted in the presence of women, to the point of almost shutting down. Is kind to children, and has little problem relating with them, but that changes when they grow up. His main fondness is for his rats (he has many!), which he raises as pseudo-members of his family. An orphan, he has no knowledge of his birth family (if they survive?) and no interest in finding them. He is also very sensitive about his scar. Will work with others, but only as a behind-the-scenes cyber entity. He will not meet others personally, unless forced or in disguise. Skills/Powers: A Technomancer Hacker, he always has his mind connected to the Matrix. He has a cyber connection to all his enhanced rats, and uses them to help him infiltrate places that he cannot access through the Matrix. He can guide them just like drones, but leaves their survival instinct intact. He is so attuned to the Matrix, that he always knows when someone is looking for him there, and can either respond or hide his presence. He is also quite skilled as a mechanic and is capable of repairing/building some types of machines. Weaknesses: Extremely antisocial, except with animals and children, he never interacts with people personally except in the most basic manner. In person, he is more likely to talk with simple yes/no statements, or more likely a grunt. Distrustful of women, except on the Matrix, he will avoid them whenever possible. He is so emotionally tied to his rats, that he will always place their safety above his own, or others. If someone should kill one of his rats, intentionally, it will spark an intense hatred and desire for revenge. His revenge is always i the Matrix, however. He has been known to hack people, and cripple their accounts, simply for shooing his pets away! Background: One of the first Dwarfs born in the Seattle area, he was placed in an orphanage run by Nuns. The strict discipline of the orphanage helped him form his extreme mental discipline, but stunted his emotional development. To this day, he cannot interact with women on a personal level, and has absolutely no tolerance for religion. He grew up hating his birth parents for leaving him in that environment, and wants nothing to do with them now. As a youth, he was the victim of a hit-and-run driver, causing massive head trauma which made his mental state even more stunted, and gave him his facial scar. The accident helped in other ways, though, for he found that he could now interact with computers on an almost subconscious level. He immersed himself in the internet, and early Matix, and found that knowledge is truly power. As soon as he was old enough, he fled the orphanage and began to exercise his control over computers. It is widely believed that he had a hand in the Computer crash of 2029, but it is impossible to know for sure and he'll never speak on the subject. Taking on the persona of Rufus, the maintenance guy, he lives in the basement of an apartment complex [I will let you decide the location] with his rats carefully hidden within the walls of the building. He feeds them, and makes sure they do not forage in peoples apartments, but he also uses them to spy on the residents. He knows almost everything about the people in his building, and will know instantly if someone tries to infiltrate his operation from within. Under the guise of 'Rudy the Rat,' he takes jobs over the Matrix and performs hacking operations that others don't want traced back to themselves. Very honest, in his way, he will always strive to fulfill any contract that he accepts. All money is payable to offshore accounts, and routed through a labyrinth of computer transfers so no one can trace it back to Rufus, the maintenance guy. Having his rats cyber-enhanced, however, is expensive, so he is constantly seeking funds to feed and adapt his 'family.' As far as he knows, nobody knows that Rufus Detweiler and Rudy the Rat are the same person, and he means to keep it that way. 4. Flaser as Dussack: Spoiler:PICTURE: STATS: (5/8) Body (4/6) Mind (3) Soul (40/55) Health Points (35/45) Energy Points (8/11) Shock Value (7/8) Combat Attack (5/6) Combat Defense (39/45) Max. Possible Unarmed Damage DESCRIPTION: Name: Paul Kovacs Shadowname: Dussack Gender: Male Race: Dwarf Age: 24 Looks: Mousy brown hair, brown eyes... average looks. Surprisingly tall for a dwarf, in fact he's usually mistaken for a human. Keeps his chin almost religiously clean-shaven. He hates ale, in fact his favorite drink is whiskey on the rocks. Tends to dress smartly, usually going for a wage-slave look, blending into the crowd. As most dwarfs he's strong and hardy... but going against the stereotype he's insanely fast, almost twitchy. Personality: Sarcastic with a penchant for outbursts of profanity, tends to keep his cool when on The Run. Is in the midst of an identity crisis and for all the intellectual acceptance of dogma, he's finally having a personal experience of what Trans-humanism might entail... he's not taking it well. It's one thing to know something on an intellectual level, it's another to experience it as something happening, changing you. Skills/Powers: [color=green]Here's the deal. You want some suit wiped? Call me, put down a deposit, the mark gets his accident then you pay the rest. You want security? Deposit, delivery, payment. Like clock-work. I get the job done. Most of the time you won't even know I was there. I'm fast, you see. Faster than the eye can track, faster than your average street-sam on the trigger, fast like a juiced up otaku on his hot-sim raid of the Playboy Mansion. I don't use force... I don't need it. I don't use firepower... I don't need it. A double-tap, Death clapping the mark on the shoulder that it's time to go. Hi-Vel express delivery into the cranium, right through the eyes. Hiss!-fwoop!-fwoop!-thuum... the holdout's already back in its holster, or better yet, lies discarded on the pavement and I'm already just another terrified passerby. Heck, they could put me through screening then and there most of the time... I don't have much cyber, just the usual jack & slot with the comlink below. They can put me under the scanner and I'll look like just another Joe Average. That's me, your silver bullet for hire. No mess, no fuss, just slotted marks and a job well done... well usually. Sometimes things get messy. I still deliver. Big mess, big fuss, marks very much slotted and no clues to tie the mark to you. Tends to happen when you Johnsons play with cards too tight to your chest... that'll cost you extra by the way.[/color] Weaknesses: Has a pretty sophisticated AI in his cranial computer that edges ever closer to self-awareness. Said AI also uses his own gray matter for computing. Some big players out there are looking for him to get the thing... is living pretty much on the run. Lately has taken up drinking to numb the existential horror of getting swallowed up by the thing in his head. Background: [color=green]OK. Since I'm stuck with you, I might as well get my money's worth. You're supposed to be good at this navel-gazing shit. So here goes... Being the son of an B+ company's CEO (read: Cranky Evil Ogre) is hard enough nowadays, what with cutthroat competition for the few supplier contracts, usually in areas deemed too mundane (read: deadbeat) by Triple-As. Being a metahuman son of said CEO who takes each & every opportunity to remind you how much of a disappointment you are (read: not a towering jock like the "Big Manâ„¢" used to be) is harder still. I still wouldn't have given a shit, if not for a little incident my Da's ego brought me. I'd been content living my life, being just another suit. But no, the Big Cheese had to open his goddamn mouth, and make a stand. He'd show them! Never mind that his dumb ass couldn't even afford me a scholarship at a proper school with a dedicated security guards, tweed suits and all of the Dead Poets Society crap. No, I had to go to some community school for the gifted, where any fucking salary-man's son in the area could attend... and thus it wasn't altogether hard for someone to arrange my "accident"... if you wanna call being beaten into a quadriplegic an accident. Most guys would've been hooked on BTLs, drugs or something... it's not like you can do a lot when the only change in your day is when you nurse comes to swap diapers. I took up brooding instead. You see, my Da choose this moment to realize he's a family man. After all those years, he realized that I'm the only son he's going to get. So every day he came into my room and started yapping about how sorry he is... Intentionally ignoring him while doing nothing, that must've hurt. There was no polite excuse that I'm busy, that there's anything keeping my mind off what's going on. There I was, staring at the ceiling, not saying a word, while the man was literally tearing himself to pieces... God, I was such a bastard. You see, my Da, God bless his mono-maniac soul, couldn't take no for an answer. At the time regrowing spinal tissue was impossible and full-body-cybernetics were blacker than the inside of a troll's asshole. It seemed like I'd live my life slurping corn starch through a straw. Da wouldn't have that. With his usual fervor he scoured the world for a solution... Enter Berger Streissman, (posthumus) sainted evangelist of the Church of Trans-Humanism Unchained, Matrix millionaire with an up and coming solo-A company of his own. Most folks at the time and even today, view tech as stuff that lets you do shit better and that's it. It might take you places, it might give you new insights but all in all it's just tech as usual, tools at your disposal. Not to Trans-humanists. To them, tech is something that changes you first and foremost. The Metalheads preach about the weakness of the flesh, the transcendence of cybernetic bodies. Wireheads preach about leaving your body behind altogether and living in the world of digital perfection... and us Holistics claim that there's no hard barrier to the self. I'm a convert, you see... The only man to ever receive Streissman's "blessing", before AzTek or some other triple-fucking-A took 'im and the whole wing of the hospital out. Nowadays tech that can do what I got is common place... back then, well it was truly revolutionary. It still is. Most guys on my level look like a fucking Terminator or a reject from the Thing. Me? I'm normal. Why put in a dozen separate systems, when a single, general purpose computer could do all you want as long as its properly wired up? The answer is most folks would be terrified to live their whole life with an AI sharing their skull. To achieve that level of control, the thing has to be able to take over the majority of your functions. It has to breath, look, hear, move, jump, leap... the works. A separate nervous system, a separate "digital you", that's like you, but not quite. ...I was out in physico-rehab when the bombs hit. Lucky me, the guy in the room over, my Da helping Streissman sell his spiel, the prophet himself and the hundred other patients... not so. High-tailing out of there seemed like a good idea, and I've been on the run ever since... but you know that. So tell me Saul, when will I go completely bonkers, when will you take over the rest of my life? You've been there, sharing my gray matter for processing, using the neural shunts they put in to boost my body beyond its threshold when we wipe a mark. You're there when I'm taking a shit, you're there when I'm having sex... ...you're there when I look into a mirror and wonder if this piece of crap, psychotherapy program I just loaded into active memory is doing anything! Are you listening Saul? Of course you are... and the hell of the thing is, I no longer know whether the hand reaching for the gun is yours or mine... we've got company...[/color] [color=blue]For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away. When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.[/color] 5. Damienthedevil as Shadow Fang: Spoiler:PICTURE: STATS: (5) Body (5) Mind (5) Soul (50) Health Points (50/70) Energy Points (10) Shock Value (5/8) Combat Attack (3/6) Combat Defense (20/40) Max. Possible Unarmed Damage DESCRIPTION: Name: Cronis Kierd Shadowname: Shadow Fang the 2nd Gender: Male Race: Elf (Night One) Age: 29 Looks: Roughly 195cm with short blue hair. Has dark brown skin and golden coloured eyes that glows in the dark(like a cat). Normally dones black leather body tight suit with tight black leather pants. Personality: Mostly cold and distrusting. He doesn't trust strangers and only trust people after a long time. Skills/Powers: - Sneaking and Stealth. As an Assassin, he has to blend into the shadows to kill his targets. Many years of training and experience made him almost undetectable with the use of the latest technology. - Weapon Mastery. As an Assassin, he had trained and used many different types of weapons from High-Tech Rifles to the simplest of knives. He can use them all. Although his preference is still his Retractable Claws. - Standard Magic Mastery. His heritage as a Night One gave him talents in Magic but due to him having no master, he could only use very basic magic such as Minor Healing and the like. He could also use magic that enhances his physical abilities fairly easily, it seems that it was his aptitude. Weaknesses: He is weak in the morning and has to be in the shade thanks to his allergy to the Sun. Background: Cronis was born as a 2nd generation elf in the town of Gora. Orphaned when he was 5, he had to learn to survive all by himself. He had scavenge food and picked pockets for more than 5 years until he picked the pocket of a famous assassin that goes by the name of Shadow Fang. Shadow thought Cronis had talent for being able to steal from him and thus took him in and taught him the ways of assassination. Training him vigorously for 7 years, Shadow thought Cronis was ready and gave him his first job; To kill a mid-class noble. Cronis did his job splendidly and earned himself his first kill. Following that success, Shadow took Cronis along on many jobs and Cronis made a name to himself as the disciple of Shadow Fang. Exactly 10 years later however, Shadow Fang was caught on when he completed his job to assassinate a high-ranking member of S-K. Shadow Fang was caught and killed instantly. Since then, Cronis inherited the Shadow Fang name and had called himself as such. Fast forward 2 years into the future, Cronis had worked under many Corporation as an assassin-for-hire. He is paid good money and is now famed for his skill and high success rates. His current job brought him to Seattle and is now settling in one of the many hideouts he have in Seattle. 6. Kheldar as Traitor: Spoiler:STATS: (4) Body (4) Mind (4) Soul (40) Health Points (40) Energy Points (8) Shock Value (4) Combat Attack (2) Combat Defense (16/26) Max. Possible Unarmed Damage DESCRIPTION: Name: Marcus Anderson Shadowname: Traitor Gender: Male Race: Human-British Age: 19 Looks: A tall guy, Marcus is around 6ft 2 in height. He has a slightly slimmer build than most, though rather than being weedy he is better described as toned. His left arm is, from the elbow down, a cybernetic replacement. High quality and normally concealed under a long sleeved shirt and glove its quite hard to notice. Long, ruffled brown hair that refuses to stay in any specific style no matter how hard he tries to keep it there. While not handsome, he’s not ugly, high cheekbones and gaunt cheeks being his prominent features. Slate grey eyes combined with his usual zoned out expression mean most people see him as distant. He’s bad at smiling, tending to grin and look sadistic instead. When around friends he laughs little but smiles alot. Past times have left him with very faint laughter lines. Dresses smartly but not without due nods to fashion he also has a pocket watch (I'll admit that this is just because I wear one ;D) Personality: Sometimes seen as cold and aloof (Reasonable assumptions considering his background) he is nevertheless a relatively happy outgoing person for the most part. However he tends towards massive mood swings (as teenagers are) and ends up in deep depressions occasionally. Having had little dealings with women as a whole in the past he’s awkward whenever one shows affection towards him. He can talk to them and be quite charming but as soon as the women or girl, for example, so much as lean toward him, he is likely to make some excuse and get some distance between himself and her. Unfortunately he also has a social problem with other races. Having been raised in an exclusively human area he is for the most part scared of other races and has difficulty dealing with them normally. Marcus has a bad habit of judging people at first sight and depending on his assessment of a person will be overly trusting or completely paranoid around them. Skills/Powers: A natural affinity with nearly any weapon, within minutes of obtaining it he’s most likely figured out exactly how to employ it. Little to no really power with magic he has however had to attend some magical based lessons in the past. As such he knows vaguely how to cast some high end spells. He’ll only try it in a desperate situation and to be honest it’s more likely going to make the situation worse considering his incompetent flailing of magical power. Inventive if not a genius he should be able to throw together just about anything as long as you give him time and a rough idea of how it works. Pistons in his bionic replacement allow for a bone crushing grip. Also while fighting without a weapon is something Marcus avoids at all costs he can throw a decent kick after a small amount of training with his families bodyguards though his fist fighting lets him down. Remember though he’s only a human and while not weak he is certainly not strong. He also knows a smattering of Japanese as his family traded with Japan for some simple mechs which they used to improve their own brand of bioarmour. Weaknesses: Easy to get to emotionally. Perhaps because he was sheltered or maybe it’s just something in his personality but various things can either set him off or utterly break him. Things of nature to break him tend to include threats to friends or children and mutilation/mutations which horrify him. He can be set off by either insults that are accurate about himself (e.g spoilt brat knows nothing of our problems, your pathetic with girls you virgin bastard), breaking his stuff (He’s a tad materialistic) and violence of any kind towards a women. Using these things you can quite easily manipulate him and force him into situations he would rather not be in. He has trouble working with people of other races as he is still confused and scared of this new world he’s entered. Also he’s only human and has a slim build so getting a hit on him will severely impact on his ability to fight or even function normally. Compound that with the fact that he will keep on trying to get back up and he’s a risk to himself after being injured. Also he is ignorant of some knowledge that would be common information among locals and as such may find himself easily lost or making a faux pas in conversation that most others would not. This also goes for the Matrix system; his family distrusted such things for the most part allowing their personal techmancers to deal with it on their behalf. However he finds the idea very interesting and has almost instantly started researching it as soon as he arrived in America. Vanity is one last thing that could be taken advantage of. Flattery and drawn pictures of himself can be used to distract him and get the better of him. He even carries around a small drawing of himself done by an old friend of his to this day but he won’t admit it. Background: Born and raised in Anglesey, an island in the northwest of Britain, Marcus is part of Anderson family, a small corporation in their own right. Having produced numerous forms of bio armour (A type of removable cybernetic enhancement.Think of a small mech hardwired into your body allowing for organic style movement and quick responses) and selling them across the world for past 4 centuries the family is made of old and new money alike. Exercising an iron grip on its lands the family got rid of all mutants as they appeared preserving, as they put it, a true society. Marcus was brought up to respect these ideals and fight for them. Put through classes of every kind to ensure he was good enough for the family, Marcus endured a lot as a child even if he did live in the lap of luxury. However as part of the family he was also a target and during one of his combat classes (Anderson’s were expected to protect the families interests by any means necessary) a shadowrunner made her way into the mansion. Attacking from the shadows she managed to slash Marcus’ arm as he fell away from her. Marcus’ instructor a former soldier managed to drive her off but the blade she had been using was poisoned. Seeing no other alternative he cut off part of Marcus’ arm to save him. Marcus and the shadow runner survived that day. The instructor was put to death by the family for his brash actions. Ever since Marcus hated his family but he kept up with his classes, biding bis time so he could change the family peacefully and from within. But during his 18th year he stumbled upon one of the families darker secrets. That night he barred up the family mansion lit it on fire and left. Taking some of his family’s wealth and enough supplies for the journey he started making his way to America to avoid revenge from some of his father’s more influential friends. Marcus has recently arrived in New Seattle and taken residence in a hotel in one of the seedier districts as he has little idea of where to actually go in the city of in his life in general. Free falling through life he’s desperately looking for a hand hold no matter what or who it is. 7. Rise-chan as Victorique: Spoiler:PICTURE: STATS: (7) Body (8) Mind (8) Soul (95/125) Health Points (80/110) Energy Points (19) Shock Value (7/10) Combat Attack (5/8) Combat Defense (30/53) Max. Possible Unarmed Damage DESCRIPTION: Name: Riselotte Alexandre Shadowname: Victorique Gender: Female Race: My apologies but, you're not allowed to know yet. Age: You don't ask a lady's age! Appearance: Riselotte has white and smooth skin and is a "proper" lady. Her shiny blond hair is the perfect combination with her face for her looks. A man would think, "This is too good to be true!" after gazing upon the feminine air that shrouds her. Vermillion-ish purple eyes which are quite rare can be seen when one looks at her face. Surprisingly, the eyes not only add to her beauty and grace, they can also bring in the horror to the minds of those who witnesses her sadistic and darker side after the hidden nature is revealed, which usually contradicts the enchanting smile she puts up around people in order to associate with them to eventually use them for benefits. Personality: When one would first meet Riselotte, or at least meet her the first few times; they'd find themselves graced by an usual aristocrat: well-manners, proper etiquette, eloquence in speeches, and a radiant smile flaunting pure confidence to top it off. Though, one would realize that she almost never apologies for just about anything to mere commoners. She feels that she'd belittle her image too much if done so. She is always polite when getting to know people and strangers, someone close to her would see a more different side of her, though. But getting close to her in itself can prove to be a tedious task. On the inner side, she has a sadistic side to herself. She can be very mean and not even for a moment would she hesitate to use people to have her way; commoners are merely pawns on the chessboard, all she has to do is to use them efficiently in order to achieve victory. She has a superiority complex, and as such, she looks down on everyone excluding certain top-classed people of novelty of whom are mostly elves, none else have won her true respect so far. This has caused her to have a low opinion of the beings on the world. And of course, if the people of the world is practically lower than her, then she has to look good yes? She can't possibly dress up and act like everyone else, that's equal to being a mere mongrel! And hence, she will always cater to her looks, dresses, and keep up utmost elegance anytime, even when none looks up to her. For it is to not show people that she is better, it is to keep it true to herself that she is above the people of the world. Skills/Powers: The capability to manipulate certain elements. Weaknesses: - Hate towards commoners. - Her socializing skills to manipulate people can be broad sometimes, Riselotte tends to end up making bad connections. Basically, she ends up trying to use people who comes back to cause her nothing but unnecessary trouble. - Insults. If it's one thing that can cloud Riselotte's judgement, it's her pride crumbling apart. Background: Riselotte was born long ago. One would say "countless" to describe this. One of the country she enjoyed living in was England, which always exudes the feeling of novelty and grace. Riselotte was born to a family of special beings. More so, her parents were these inhumans beings who masked themselves as humans perfectly under the society while at the same time; they had quite the high status along those of the higher-classed society. In order to properly blend in with the humans, Riselotte was taught proper etiquette, manners, socialization skills, even acting and fighting - this explains her current personality. Fighting as in, fighting with magic, after all Riselotte is a magician. Weapons exactly were not her forte at that time. Riselotte's parents one day disappeared due to reasons that were unknown to her at that time. She waited, waited, and waited, but they never returned. Riselotte tried desperately to find her parents, even going as far as hiring people to find her missing guardians, only to find their corpses laid on a large pond far away from her home. Her parents dying was already a fact hard to swallow, now she had to face the fact that she was no longer living with her family. She was now practically alone on her mansion, along with her maids. Even though she was technically not "alone," her maids never seemed to provide much feeling of presence around her, due to them not being blood-related. And hence, the mansion felt like a desolate place; an empty home. A large, gloomy shelter. Riselotte soon a decided that she should stop mourning in grief and prepare for the worst that haunted her. Her parents died, and it was definitely not an accident, it was a scheme, a plot well-played from behind the curtains, like a puppeteer having his dolls dance at the whim of his will. Whoever killed her parents may come after her one day. Riselotte thus hits the house that her family once constructed years ago, though it was old and locked, she managed to find the key to it at home, on her parents' room. It was well hidden. The house presented Riselotte it's collection of books, many shelves and stacks of old books of magic, all wrapped under dusts and cobwebs. Riselotte was first forced to just go back home and call upon her dutiful maids to clean the place for her. Once cleaned, she finally started reading all the books. Upon reading the books, some of them contained same knowledge, and hence, she went over some facts, stories, strict rules and magics, over and over as she read through them, later having practically inscribed under her brain. After several years, Riselotte was still undone with the books, there were too many of them, and just to review some facts, she re-read some of them from time to time. She spent what felt like months, no years on just reading. Time was uncounted for and her maids started to worry about her so much that they decided to keep an eye on her everyday and deliver lunch, food and other necessities to her when required. Riselotte could hardly care about the anxiety and devotions of her maids. Now that she found something so interesting and... addictive. Riselotte was utterly engrossed. Yes, she grew passion for reading and learning. While it's true that she entered the library with the intention of learning magic in the first place, she ended up reading old novels and stories in there too. She made the ideal objective to read through every single books and see through to it. Time passed and before one would know, it was already 2011, the time of Awakening. This was when Riselotte had the chance to put her vast knowledge to use and practice her spells, she was already done with the old library. She later decided to finally venture out of her home for good; rather than stay on this terribly old mansion, even though it's where lots of memories lied, especially those of family, but this is what she needed to take a long or perhaps an eternal break from. Her maids who had already turned into half-inhuman beings by the aristocrat girl, did lots of researching for her and searched out the best place for her; Seattle. Rather than traveling around the world, which seemed like a tedious task that would be done at the absence of a mansion as a home most of the time, she felt the need to just move to a better and more advanced city. Though by the time she shrugged off her laziness... or better explained; busyness, it was past 2017 when she actually moved to the city. Once moved, Riselotte had a harsh time getting used to the environment, it took years to get accustomed to the shiny place. Riselotte spent lots of time to blend in with the society as someone with a concrete social standing with money. After all, her old location weren't very trendy, she barely had knowledge about the changes of the world as she barely kept record of time until her maids started filling in the details. She used to barely watch the television too, her interest regarding it were piqued after being done with the books from the library. While being the sage of magical knowledge due to the literary contents and informations from the books; she felt outdated, so felt left-behind, and she wanted to get back on the track, associate with people, and get to know things. Riselotte hence started working hard to understand people. She decided to redo her education and in doing so, she learned lots of new things. She tried taking on many types of lessons at once, such as singing lessons, dancing lessons and even martial arts. But martial arts was going a little too far and thus proved to not fit her style. So she made the decision to forgo learning such lethal arts and techniques. But she took her time with learning many things, since she fancied reading, she visited many libraries and borrowed books everyday. She borrowed so many books that she ended up creating a library of her own new at home and thus her passion strived through the new generation, that is, until she realized that most of the novels and stories were boring. Much of these books barely contained the type of text which used to move her heart and spirit so much. Granted, they provided more and more knowledge. Knowledge is indeed power, but without the drive that encourages one to gain it; it's only a matter of time until she stops dealing with it. By the time Riselotte completely adapted to the humans, she lived years too peacefully in Seattle for years until starting to get associated with the corporations as they deemed her to be someone very useful, or so the rumors surrounding her pointed them. They hired her, only because they felt the wish to put her magic to use and see the results. Throughout the years, she went on many "missions," or so her contractors liked to call them; for her gains. And her abilities allowed her to gain respect. Now she held great influence and respect not only in the outside, but also on the inside, with the name Victorique. 8. Bartre as Charon: Spoiler:STATS: (4) Body (5) Mind (5) Soul (45) Health Points (50/70) Energy Points (9) Shock Value (4) Combat Attack (2) Combat Defense (18) Max. Possible Unarmed Damage DESCRIPTION: Name: William Fornier Shadowname: Charon (I decide when you get on this boat to hell buddy. Whats that? No thats not Hades, and no I don't think I'm a major god, maybe a minor one though.) Gender: Male Race: Human SURGE, Changeling Age: 28 Looks: I was one of the lucky ones, SURGE gave a lot of my friends characteristics they wish the didn't have, things that made them impossible to miss: Wings, horns, tails, hell one of them even got an exoskeleton, a damned Corinthian helmet, guys impossible to headbutt but it doesn't really matter when a stab to the thigh puts him down just the same. But I digress, midnight blue hair(natural) cropped short and brown eyes. I've been told that I look a little above average, but I guess that comes from the rest of me. At five foot ten inches, I spend a lot of time crafting myself, making myself as atheletic as possible, I don't run incredibly fast but I can run for a long time, I can't punch a hole through a wall, but I sure as hell can dent it. Yeah it's not really what people look for in body guards, they want that giant hulking build, Harlequin bless evolutionary psychology. In my opinion being big, bulky and mean looking means you just get shot, blasted, evaporated, eviscerated or even melted first which is fine by me, when you inevitably bring in the big muscles I'll probably be the only one left to collect my pay, you can bet I'll be charging extra. Personality: Calm and quiet, Charon excels at hiding his real emotions. He can see both sides of an argument and often moves to create a compromise and is always willing to lend a hand to aquaintences and hear people's problems. Underneath the acquiescing mask lies a wit begging to snark at everything and anything. Despite the nature of the world he is determined to give people the benefit of the doubt, probably just to spite it. Slow to anger and easy to forgive, he has difficulties letting past mistakes go, often spending countless hours agonizing over things that were often out of his control and even more about things that were. He can count on one hand how many people he considers true friends, but he can say with certainty that if those few needed his arm he would give it in an instant. Hates racists, speciests, classists, people with an unjustfied sense on entitlement and morons, not that those people would know. Events have forged him to be emotionally resillient and world saavy.Has an unreasonable fear of Nutella but curiously not peanut butter. Given his specialty as a bodyguard, Charon has learned when to be forceful when needed, but only when necessary, being pushy all the time tends to burn more energy after all. Skills/Powers: Powerful senses, I can smell what someone has had for dinner a day after, see far beyond most humans, hear the quietest mouse. (Thanks SURGE!) I pick up things a bit easier than most do for some reason, don't know why. A mystical adept, I tend to use both schools for different purposes. On the Adept side I do my damned best to make sure I'm harder than hell to take down and fast enough to dance away from whatever can take me down. On the Hermetic side lies all of my flashier options, I'm a firm believer in the best offense is a good defense, thus, I focus more on shield/armor effects and the occasional healing spell. My only directly offensive spells tend to be the most basic of spells, but when all you got is a hammer you either get really good with a hammer or you learn subtle things that make the hammer blow up between you and the other guy, good thing you got that armor huh? Still don't hold a candle to most offensively minded mages, I'm no miracle healer and a pure defensive mage will out barrier me, but I'm talking PURE defensive mage here. So whats a defensively minded body-guard supposed to do when he can't magic someone to death? Well, you could just shoot him. I put some long hours into my marksmanship, I'm not a crack-shot with pistols, but I get by. If that fails you could try to close and take him hand to hand, that shit is painful, but most mages react poorly to you getting in their face. Weaknesses: Perfume, no seriously. One job had me guarding some jumped up whore, it was some easy money, most runners who would take the bounty are chumps. Turns out he almost got his job done when he threw a bottle at me in desperation, stupid of me for not modifying the solid barrier in front of me to stop it but it happened. It broke on my face and I swear I almost died, the smell was just that powerful. I still pushed the bastard out the window but it took all my willpower to not just tear off my nose. I try not to guard whores, only classy courtesans now, the ones with the sense to put perfume somewhere where scruffy bodyguards like me don't knock them down. On that note I don't take super bright light or super loud noises very well, which unfortunately occurs more than it should, stupid flashbangs, making me spend mana on wards. (READ: LUDICROUS SMELLS IN A SHORT PERIOD OR THINGS THAT OVERLOAD SENSES.) I'm no specialist, I can't flay a fool with my mind that well, I can't regrow an arm (maybe a nub, that counts right?), and I can't shield a damned idiot from the combined powers of three combat mages, I dabble in the first two and actively pursue the third but I just don't put as much time others do. In the same vein, my personal enhancments aren't S tier, but I'd be willing to say they're above average. I'm a generalist in most of my fields, you want a sniper that gets flayed magically, you don't hire me, you want a wall making machine that can't defend himself that well when the walls come down, you don't hire me, you want a walking apocalypse with the constitution of paper, you don't hire me, you want a master martial artist who can't fight at long range, you don't hire me. I'll be the first to admit it, I'm not a grizzled veteran, I don't have ALL the experience in the world, but I'm still pretty damn good. Background: SURGE meant a lot of things for different people. For a kid like me, born a mite before Halley's Comet came hurtling through space to visit Earth's general area it meant a drastic change to society, one that barely settled down before fate decided to fuck with us again. My parents were relieved that I only had blue hair and enhanced senses, but my friends weren't as lucky. I couldn't believe it as I grew up, UGE and Goblinization already happened, why were people, yeah thats right PEOPLE, being put down for something out of their control? I was a bully hunter as a kid, I didn't care if you were as ugly as troll, sported a helmet exoskeleton, had talons, giant wings (but man was I jealous of those that did), or were born poor or rich, asian or black, if you hurt people I hurt you, didn't hurt that most people never expected that really quiet asian kid to suddenly go berserk after seemingly befriending you. Word got out and I somehow I found myself leading a gang of kids and teens, we watched for our own, the rest of the world could go fuck itself as long as we weren't bothered. I like protecting people, I liked being that valiant knight that seemed to have vanished from the world, didn't hurt that chicks were attracted to me for being awesome and manly. At least Mia thought so. Me at the head, Garm as my right hand, Aegis as the brains (and the legs, but I'd never say that to her face, or to Garm for that matter), and Mia as our heart, we were best friends. I'd give my arm for those nuts, and they'd give me theirs. I think I liked being this sorta Hero of Justice the most because it meant I was sticking a middle finger to the world that seemed to take sadistic joy in making people's lives as shitty as possible. Still, life wasn't super easy, but we were satisfied with our lot, we had family in the form of our little gang and the few families that didn't hate their kids for being different, food in our bellies, places to sleep and the Matrix. Naturally, it got worse for us as it's wont to do, come 2069, and a pair of earthquakes put down our little town. My family, Garm, Aegis, Mia, and Nexus' families were safe in Florida on a trip we all saved up money for, the rest? Not so lucky. The worse part? the Corporations in the area and the wealthy? They did jack shit, just enough to give the impression they were doing something. I was 19 then, (and with the benefits of hindsight, dumb as a brick)and I hated them more than I hated anything else. I'm not proud to admit that we did stupid shit. Domestic terrorism says hi but at least we only targeted wealthy "humanitarians" we weren't the only ones. You don't go attacking the economic elite without learning some skills from people who hate them just as you do. Still we got luckier than a god damn leprechaun when we tried to take our revenge, but even leprechauns get caught. It cost us Mia, our heart, and more than that. We stopped doing stupid shit and began to gear ourselves for the future but we Never.Stopped. Hating. Not just the corporations, but ourselves and the world. Eventually we moved on but it was hard, especially for me. I will always hate myself for getting her killed but I will live, I promised her. I don't blame her pops for trying to kill me , but I promised. Eventually we made up, but he will never forgive me, just as I will never forgive him for beating her and his wife. I became a Runner with some of the skills I acquired, gradually acquiring more as I attended lessons on damn near everything magical and pistol related while refining what I already learned. Garm and Aegis got hitched and are average citizens, working for Horizon. What the future holds I don't know but I will live until I'm old as shit. I promised. IMPORTANT NPCs: Sandman: [spoil][b]PICTURE: DESCRIPTION: Name: Sandy, Rua, Ginger or simply RED (pun intended) Shadowname: Sandman Gender: definitely female Race: human, more or less Age: 35 Looks: Long thick wavy red hair, poison green eyes, pale skin and freckles make her a true gaelic Rua (irish for "redhead"). Wearing mostly tight clothing, showing off her "qualities", but still trying to keep it simple by sticking either to black, khaki green or army patterns. Personality: Seems generally unpredictable and instable, constantly drinking, smoking and swearing like ... well ... a drinking and smoking sailor. Half of her swears indicate her irish heritage. Seemingly gets off on simple pleasures like steak, pear cider and havanitas. Likes to flirt with everything and everyone, including lascivious and seductive behavior even in her fighting style. Skills/Powers: She's a walking tank and killing machine, stuffed with cyberware. The impact of her fist equals the one of a bullet shot from a heavy pistol in close range. Her favorite weapons are a huge custom made revolver, which is linked to her cyberware and shoots sniper-bullets, which she lovingly calls her "babby" (irish slang for "baby"), and a monofilament wakizashi, which was a gift from one of her former team-members for her 30th birthday. Weaknesses: The amount of cyberware tends to make her psycho-physically instable, up to the point of dozing off in the middle of doing or saying something. Background: Not much is known about her, most of the Shadowtalk actually considers her to be male. She's in business for about 15 years and got her Shadowname due to the fact, that she's "putting people to (eternal) sleep". Sandman is said to be extremely dangerous and most wouldn't want to cross guns with this almost legendary 'runner.[spoil]

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NeoStriker

12 years ago

I watch Trapper walk into the master bedroom, looking obviously dejected. Mmmmnnn, this banana-nut muffin's yummy. The Doofus is certainly smart with his logistics, but Trailer still did pretty good. After several minutes, I follow him into the bedroom, and I see the lights are off but there's an afternoon glow pouring in from the windows. He's already fallen asleep. I hope I'm not imposing myself too much on him. I slip my jacket and monitor off and set it aside somewhere, before climbing into bed with him. I lay my head on his right arm and easily fall asleep with his warmth beside me.

littleRED

12 years ago

//Rudy the Rat//

The Technomancer took Charon's commlink into his hand and stared at it intently. In his mind, he started forming a strategy on how to improve these people's devices and integrate them into one shared network they could use on a run.

He could feel his sprites curl and shift in excitement, eager to start the work.

Rudy walked away towards the lounge area of the big common room and sat on the couch, pondering to himself.

littleRED

12 years ago

Sandman listened carefully to what the dryad had to tell her and she didn't like a single bit of it.

The situation - if true - was getting serious. Very serious. But Sandman needed to check it for herself, before she alarmed the others.

She told the Doctor to pack up her stuff and stay quiet, until she was back.

Then she looked at at her weapons, but decided to leave them behind - so she wouldn't raise any suspicion. The red-head sighed deeply and walked out of the media room. She kicked her commlink online and checked the digital spyhole of the entrance door to see if the hallway in front of the suite was clear.

The camera came alive just in time for her to see a hotel-staff member carrying a cloathanger with a clothing for a man through the door of the presidential suite studio.

She waited for him to disappear and then opened the door as silently as possible and slipped out quickly.

She took the stairs to reach the floor below and again first checked the hallway and then approached Leblanc's suite.

She pushed the door open, which she shouldn't have been able to do. She had no key to Leblanc's suite. None of them did, but still ... the door opened without any trouble. That didn't look good so far.

She walked into the grand foyer and waved at ShadowFang and Victorique to sit down and relax.

"I just gotta ask Leblanc something."

She sighed, thinking: I wish I could tell that to myself too ...

She knocked at Leblanc's bedroom door.

No answer.

"Leblanc? Are you asleep? Can I come in?"

She didn't wait for an answer and just went into the bedroom, closing the door behind her immediately.

The bedroom was empty.

Sandman walked further into the room and checked the bathroom, but there was no sign of Leblanc either.

The solo rubbed her forehead, trying to recall the shift change.

Traitor and N finished at 5PM, like we agreed to. But then ... they came up without waiting for ShadowFang and Victorique to come down first.

Her mind was racing.

Dussack was in the shower for 7 minutes ... doctor's speech had taken a while too ... FUCK!!! They had left Leblanc alone for 20 minutes!!! Fuck! Fuck!!! FUCK!!!

Sandman went back to the foyer, pretending that she had found Leblanc and nodded at ShadowFang and Victorique as she left the suite.

Better stay put, until we figured out what happened, she thought to herself.

Maybe Leblanc left on purpose, there as no need to assume that she was taken, as there was no sign of violent intrusion. But then again, why would she have them watch her, if she had no problem walking around alone?

The solo climbed upstairs to the presidential suite and walked straight to Dussack. She leaned in, so only he could hear her whispering:

"Leblanc is gone."

littleRED

12 years ago

//Charon (instead of Bartre)//

The knock at the door came as Charon was drying off. "Just a second," he called, pulling on the hotel-issued robe.

He opened the door and took the dry-cleaner package from the bellman. "Hang on," he said.

He turned for his commlink so he could tip the bellman, only to remember that Rudy was probably still playing with it, as he felt a sting at the back of his neck. He reached up, feeling the dart stuck in his skin, as the room started to spin.

He fell to the floor, and the rest was silence.

littleRED

12 years ago

//@Damienthedevil and Rise-chan:

You watch Sandman come and go, as if everything is fine. As she leaves the apartment, there is no indicator that Leblanc might be missing.

It's around quarter to 6PM and outside it's already getting dark.

A few minutes after Sandman left, ShadowFang's commlink gets an incoming call (it's up to you, Damien, if you're hiding it from Victorique or not).

It's Leila calling you.

When you answer the call, the typical video-call picture pops up on the device's integrated display. The first impression is shocking, as you can see Leila's bloody and beat-up face.

She looks scared and breaks out in tears: "Cronis ... oh god ... you gotta listen to them!!! The kids!!! They have the kids ..."

And then the picture shifts and on screen appears a masked man.

"You have one hour to come here alone and unarmed, or ..."

You can't see what is happening behind the scenes, but you hear Leila screaming hysterically and then the masked man disconnects the call.//

Damienthedevil

12 years ago

Cronis heard his commlink ringing and looked at the caller name. It was the name of the comm that he gave Leila in case of emergencies. He thought it was odd that she was using it.

Cronis went to the balcony on the side of the living room and answered the call. He had a bad feeling about it but what he saw confirmed his worst fears.

He clenched his teeth in anger as he put the comm back into his pocket. He didn't even say a thing to Victorique and just walked quickly out of the room. He went to the elevator and headed down to the lobby.

After getting into his car, he sped out of the parking lot as fast as possible towards the orphanage. The whole time, he was anxious about the condition of Leila and the kids. Damn it! This must be related to the job. Fuck! I knew this job was bad news!

He arrived at the orphanage in about 35 minutes.

littleRED

12 years ago

//Joint post of GM and Damienthedevil://

As ShadowFang walked through the door of the big church hall, he found himself in the following situation:
The kids were all assembled in the corner most far away from the main exit, which was the left corner from the altar form his point of view. Their hands were tied behind their backs and they were gagged with duct tape - on a closer look he could see that they were all wearing the same type of electronic collar around their neck. He could assume that they weren’t just for show.

The kids all looked very tired and scared.

Leila was sitting in the right corner from the altar, also tied up, gagged and wearing the same collar. Now that he could see her off the screen, she looked only slightly beaten up. Meaning, most of her face wasn’t injured. She had lacerations above her right eye, which was partially swollen and slightly blue, but the blood was already dry. The dress she was wearing was blood stained in the chest area and moderately torn here and there.

Though he couldn’t be sure what they done to her aside from the beating …

Aside from that, he noticed 8 heavily equipped guards, wearing all the same black armor suits and masks. Five of them were pointing their assault rifles into Shadow’s direction, two at the kids and one was guarding Leila.

The guys were obvious pros and on closer look, ShadowFang recognized the collars as explosive slave collars.

He decided that he couldn’t do anything without compromising the well-being and lives of Leila and the children, so he just stayed put, asking them straight out what they wanted from him.

On his right side, another man stepped out of the shadows. He was dressed rather normally, but also had a mask on his face. He came close enough to talk to him in a normal tone, but was smart enough to keep his distance just in case.

"Hello there, chummer!" He said and Shadow immediately recognized his voice from the earlier call. "We need to talk."

Shadow snapped at him: "Who the hell are you? And what do you want?"

"We are the guys who have the remotes to those living bombs over there. And we’re here to ask you for a tiny favor among professionals."

Shadow clenched his teeth in anger but he stopped himself from attacking him, quite full well this guy wasn’t joking.

"First, we want to know what Leblanc did hire you for and what the current situation is." The guy demanded with a slightly bemused tone in his voice.

Cronis calmed himself and thought it'd be best to answer him honestly: "Sorry, but I don't much. The only thing we've been told is that we're going to Lagos."

"Don't fuck with me, you elven fag!” The kidnapper barked at him. “Is she going to Lagos too or not?"

"She is. We’re hired to escort and protect her.” He sighed: “I’m not crazy to fuck with you, when you got my family taken hostage. Frankly, I don't know much. That's all she told us."

"When's the departure?"

“In two days.”

"What's the current situation at the inn, night-fag?"

Cronis narrowed his yes, getting fairly ticked off but he swallowed his anger.

"We're preparing for the departure while Leblanc is in her suite."

The man waved at one of the guards, who reacted immediately by grabbing one of the kids – Chloe – and pushing her onto the alter. The girl she screamed through the gag and started crying.

The kidnapper then turned back at Shadow: "Don't make me pull every single detail out of you one by one, night-fag, or that kid's brain over there will paint the church walls. Are you idiots supposed to guard her before the departure too? If so ... tell me who, when, how long. C’mon, night-fag, spit it out!"

The night-elf swallowed hard: "Hey! Stop that! I'm telling you alright?! I was supposed to be on shift right now, together with a corporate witch. I left her alone to come here. Our shift started at 5PM and each shift is about 8 hours long. There! That's all I really know! Now let her go already! You're scaring her!! Dammit!!!"

Cronis was desperate. He was so desperate that his acquaintances would probably not recognize him. It was probably a first for him as well.

"Ok, night-fag, listen now and listen carefully."

The guy came one threatening step closer: "We want you to go back and kill Leblanc."

Shadow stood there for a moment. Speechless.

"Fine.” Was his simple answer, only to add: “But if you hurt the kids or Leila anymore,” his whole body was shaking in anger. “I'LL MAKE SURE YOU SUFFER IN A WAY THAT'LL MAKE YOU WISH YOU'RE DEAD!"

Cronis glared at the man in the mask. If looks could kill, the man would have died a thousand times over.

The guy himself didn’t seem too upset with the threats: "You have time until tomorrow 10PM. Then we're starting to blow up kid by kid on every full hour, until Leblanc is either dead or we’re out of kiddies."

Cronis nodded and turned to leave, glancing just one more time at Leila.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine …”

Kheldar

12 years ago

Entering the bedroom I quickly shrug off my clothes, leaving on my boxers, and climb slowly between the cover, placing my pistol on a convient bedside table. I hit the lights and drift off into sleep. Its only s short while untill I'm woken again. Not sure why I open my eyes and glance around the room. Nothing unusual. I eyes droop close and I let the feeling of the sheets and the small body next to mine overtake me.

My eyes dart open. My heart suddenly attempts to kill me. Slowly, not wanting to disturb whoevers next to me,I turn and stare into a ruffled mass of dark hair. I tenatively brush aside a few locks to reveal N's face, eyes closed in peaceful slumber. My heart slows, my mind settles. I turn my body towards her, bringing my other arm up and around her, carefully as to not to let the cold steel below my elbow touch her skin. I bring my head close to hers, my eyes close. Slowly I drift back into a dreamworld. Two words escape my lips "Thank you". I'm not sure what those words would mean to her but to me they mean so many things.

The dreamworld that I slip into is not as sweet as the reality that I fall from. Its wreathed in fire.

littleRED

12 years ago

Dussack just nodded as if Sandman just told him the weather's going to be clouded.

"Ok, the training's scrubbed." He turned off the task-planner and looked at the technomancer: "Rudy, how goes the security-hardening?"

Rudy turned to him from his sitting position on the lounge-couch, waving Charon's commlink at him: "I have this idea of splitting my sprites into smaller ones, so I can distribute them among your commlinks and make a closed network and then..."

"Right," interrupted him Dussack, "but how far along are you? Could you continue this later or would you have to start from scratch?"

Rudy's shoulders sagged a bit and a disappointed look spread on his face - he looked like a child, who was dragged away from his favorite toy.

"Oh ... well ... yeah, I guess I could continue this later."

Dussack nodded at him: "Something has come up. We need access to the hotel's security logs and we need them now. You're our network specialist, tell me the most straightforward method to get them, if you have the resource of the whole team at your disposal."

The technomancer's eyes lightened up in a second: "Just tell me what you need and my sprites will get if for you."

Dussack blinked: "Well, I need all security logs of the last couple of hours of what was going on around and inside the hotel. Any other record of what transpired in the area would also help, as would the duty rosters."

Rudy closed his eyes. He looked like he was meditating, but on closer look they could see the rapid eye movement, which indicated that he was on job.

Dussack murmured to Sandy: "Darn ... I hope he's as good as his word. If he gets fried by an IC, we'd just lost our sole avenue to crack this."

Rudy opened his eyes just a few moments later: "I got the data, chief."

"The processed or the raw data?"

The technomancer grinned widely: "I got everything, chief, even the medical incidents for the past 24 hours."

Sandman narrowed her eyes: "Medical incidents?"

"Yes," said the rat-lover promptly, "they seemed to have some minor interventions, two of them were today. In fact, those two were within the last hour."

The read-head tapped her lips with her pointing-finger, pondering, but she didn't voice anything yet.

In the meantime Dussack had wrapped up a tablecloth tightly and was about to put it in his mouth: "Ready when you are. Wire the whole shit over."

This is going to suck, he thought bitterly.

Rudy nodded and his grin got even wider: "Kay, chief, better be ready for it, because ... here ... it ... comes!"

The hit-man sighed and bit down on the cloth. And then his brain light up in fire. The AI using his grey matter for storage and operations for this amount of data pretty much hurt like hell. Maybe even worse ...

He groaned into his improvised bit-gag, barely managing not to scream out in pain. He breathed heavily, sweat glistening on his forehead. The tempo picked up, records being stored and cross-referenced. Fast. Very, very fast. Faster than anyone outside hot-sim should be able to do process.

There was the record of the employee involved in the last two medical events, there was the footage of the medcar in the garage, even a short psych profile on the driver. The data kept just pouring as the not too imaginitive but rather powerful AI in his head went through the whole data-dump.

Cinia Pacifica Ojou-sama Writer

12 years ago

Riselotte didn't answered Shadowfang when asked the question while both were heading to Leblanc's suite. Once they sat down, she just stared at the sky through the windows. Drifting away into the world of imaginations. Later, Sandman came in and soon went into Leblanc's room, but then she left after some moments, she wondered what may had happened but decided not to think about it.

But soon Shadowfang went away to the balcony and she couldn't keep staring there, with ugly filth jeopardizing her view of the skies. She looked back into the room, before she knew it, Shadowfang stormed out of the room.

"Ugh... that's irresponsible or what?" she spoke to herself, but then she just didn't cared enough since it was that man. She then had a staff member coming in, well, this is a good inn and all, it wouldn't hurt to be careful but maybe she could relax and let her guard down once in a while? And that's when a dart hits her below her neck. "Why you... " Riselotte's consciousness soon faded away from her.

littleRED

12 years ago

On the other side of the presidential suite common room the technomancer's eyes glazed over for a moment, as one of his sprites jumped at him with the freshest piece of information, eager to satisfy it's master.

"Interesting," he mumbled more to himself, but loud enough to catch Sandman's attention, "another woman fainted in the same suite downstairs. Just now."

The red-head tensed up: "Give me the on-going camera views around that suite, NOW!"

Rudy just nodded and then the view of a load of different cameras in and around that suite exploded in her mind through her implanted commlink. She moaned out, overwhelmed by the sudden flood of input.

She got the perfect view of a dozen different angles on one of the hotel employees carrying an unconscious girl on his arms towards the elevator.

Sandman yelped out: "Victorique!!!"

Dussack snapped out of it instantly.

The two solos shared a look and Sandman was already running towards the door, with Dussack right behind her: "Stay connected to our commlinks, Rudy, in case we need you!"

They both were still a bit disoriented and shaky on their feet as they headed out of the suite, but their natural predatory instincts got them fast on track.

Sandman jumped down the stairs in 3-4 large steps and almost blew through the door into the hallway, before she remembered that it would probably raise some alarms. She decided just to pull the door open, instead of crashing it into tiny bits and pieces and ran into the hallway after the hotel employee, who was just entering the elevator with Victorique on his arms.

The red-head leaped forwards, her boosters letting her move at superhuman speed, sliding underneath Victorique and into the poor hotel employee and knocking him out by ramming him into the elevator wall behind him - the girl falling on top of her.

Dussack on the other hand pretty much jumped into the empty space in the middle of the staircase - if Sandy couldn't stop them, he would catch them at their destination.

The floors rushed by in a continuous blur as he jumped from railing to railing - something that would have been impossible to manage at this speed without an enhanced nervous systems and being able to overdrive his muscles.

He kept on dropping until he reached the garage level, making a full stop with a hard landing on the concrete, his bones rattling with the impact.

He arrived just in time at the elevator to pull his gun out of his sleeve-holster and position himself.

As the elevator door opened Sandman found his 9mm pointing at her chest. She made a face, reminded of the scene in the bathroom just a few hours earlier.

Dussack grinned at her: "What took you so long?"

Behind him a medcar started its engine and drove away with screeching tires.

Dussack turned around abruptly and then started out checking out the parked cars around them. Sandman narrowed her eyes: "What are you looking for, gobshite? Wanna hi-jack a car?"

"Yes, in fact, I want to hi-jack a car."

"Why?"

"Well, to follow the medcar, duh!"

Sandman shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose: "Rudy ... ?"

Rudy answered instantly: "I already sent a sprite to keep track of the medcar."

Dussack was still busy checking out the surrounding cars: "Now, where's a Ferrari, when you need one, or a Porsche? C'mon, this is a luxury hotel, there's bound to be some hotwheels!"

Sandman pressed the penthouse button in the elevator and sent Rudy a thought to take care of Victorique and the kidnapper, until they come back. She stepped up behind the other solo and then slapped the back of his head: "And then what, you moron? Drive after the medcar in a stolen vehicle and pray to the injun gods on this island that they don't have heavier weapons than your 9mmm?"

"For all we know, Leblanc could be in that car!" He snarled at her.

Her jaw-muscles tensed and she hissed at him through gritted teeth: "Yeah, but the sprite is on it, we'll track them down!"

"If all goes well that is," he corrected, "so why not intercept the medcar and get her out before she ends up maybe in even greater danger? I don't want to follow the medcar, I want to stop it! Now!" He smirked at her: "You're of course free to stay here and babysit the kids, darling."

Sandy growled at the technomancer through her commlink: "Rudy, hack me the red Ferrari in the back over there."

Dussack waved at her: "How about we take the 'bike over there?"

"Can you block a medcar with a bike?"

"Well ... no."

"I thought so."

She was already getting into the sports car: "Now would you mind getting your ass into the car, darling?"

Sandman started up the engine of the Ferrari and Dussack got quickly in, shutting the door. He took a deep breath.

"Do you really think this is wise?" She asked.
"I know it isn’t," he admitted quietly, "but we're too hot on their trail not to try."

Sandman just nodded and stepped on the gas-pedal, the engine roaring out. They took off like a rocket, the acceleration pressing them into the seats.

They reached the medcar in the blink of an eye, just as it was leaving the woods and heading for the highway bridge.

"Can you block it?" Dussack asked.

Sandman made a face: "You're kidding me, right?" She was already bypassing the medcar and then simply pulled the wheel rapidly to the right, stepping on the breaks.

The red sports car slid side-ways to a halt, blocking the street and forcing the medcar to stop instantly.

The male hit-man was already outside of their hot ride, pointing his gun at the driver, when the backdoor of the medcar opened and a man - a paramedic - stumbled out of the van and rather clumsily ran off into the woods.

Dussack reacted instantly, by shooting one of the tires of the van and then heading after the running man, shouting at Sandman: "You take care of the driver!"

As he ran, he was in fact praying to the injun gods that these guys didn't have remote cranial bombs, because otherwise all this shit would have been for naught and they wouldn't have any mean to track down the kidnappers.

He caught up with the paramedic in no time, since muscle over-driven versus clumsy wasn't really a match.

The man screamed out as the solo grabbed him by the collar: "Shut up and start talking and I might forgo breaking your legs!"

The man swallowed hard, literally pissing himself in fear. Dussack sighed deeply and continued slowly in a calm voice: "Who hired you and why? You better start telling me shit!"

The poor guy started crying and begging Dussack not to hurt him. His words were confused and incoherent as he partially talked about being called to a medical situation at the inn and partially about having a wife and kids waiting for him at home. He seemed really upset.

"Dussack? Test? 1, 2, 3 ... test?" Sandman's voice came through his commlink.

I'm busy here, he sent back in text only, just a minute.

"Dussack," she continued nonetheless, "Leblanc and Charon are in the back of the van. Something's wrong here. The guy in the front had no weapons whatsoever and was crying like a baby. I had to knock him out to calm him down."

The dwarf sighed deeply and went back to his prey: "Listen, buddy, I'm a pro. My job is to hurt people. I don't hurt them for kicks; I hurt them to stop doing stupid shit that pisses off my boss. You taking that woman and the guy over there in the van happened to piss my boss off really bad. So I have every reason to hurt you really bad."

The man started crying hysterically and Sandman voiced her concerns: "Dussack? Maybe we should let the dryad deal with them ... I also kind of want to put the Ferrari back."

The solo ignored her and went on intimidating the paramedic: "You know, buddy, as far as interrogation goes, it's pretty lousy. The moment you start to really lay it on someone they'll do anything to stop the pain, even lie. Imagine that!"

"Dussack, please ..."

"Now, lying tends to piss my boss off even more, so I'd have to hurt you even more and then you'd just lie some more ... well, you get the point ..."

"Oh, Dussack ..."

"I keep telling my boss, that this whole Jack Bauer thing is not working, but you know how managers are."

The poor guy was completely out of it, whimpering that he doesn't know what you're talking about.

"How about you tell me the truth now. Can you do that?" The man starts telling Dussack everything.: How much money he has on his account ("Oh God, I'll give you the money, just please don't hurt me!"), that his wife is a bitch ("You can have her too, please, she gives a great blow job!"), that he's cheating on his wife with the medcar's driver ("Please take him, please, oh, please!"), that he has two spoiled kids ("You can have them, if you're into that kind of stuff, just please let me go!"). Really everything, and then burst out in tears again, sobbing miserably.

Sandman laughed out loud: "You made him cry again."

Dussack cursed inwardly and then just knocked the guy out, threw him over his shoulder and marched back to the van, where he put him down in the back of the medcar and closed the door.

Sandy was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

He grumbled: "Ok, ok, let's take them to the Doctor."

Damienthedevil

12 years ago

Cronis sped to his apartment and went up to his room as fast as he could. He opened up the hidden compartment under his bed and took out his favourite pistols, the Ares Predator IV. He took them and holster them under his jacket. He put on his retractable claws and a short thin knife inside his sleeves and started walking out of his apartment.

He sped out of the Novelty Hill Road and into route 520. On the way to the Inn, Cronis thought about the ways to deal with Victorique and a realistic way to survive the assassination.

I'll just have to go at this through the front. Since it's my shift now, I should use it to my advantage.

I'll have to get rid of the witch when her back is turned. She's a mage so if I take her by surprise I'll be able to knock her out in one strike. Problem is Dussack, Charon and Sandman, all of them are strong, Sandman is gonna be tough, I'll have to avoid them at all cost. The others, I can probably ignore them, as long as N isn't using her drone.

Security, I can probably ignore. Leblanc would have paid enough for them to ignore my equipment.

As soon as Cronis arrived at the hotel, he went up straight to Leblanc's suite. He found the door opened with a cart of food just outside of the room. Cronis thought it was odd and started sneaking in with caution. He sneaked into the living room without a sound and found nothing out of place, which deepens the suspicion.

He checked the whole of the suite and couldn't find neither Leblanc nor Victorique. Cronis started to panic. Shit!! Did they grew suspicious of me? Maybe Leblanc thought there was something wrong about my behaviour then? Dammit!!

He went out of the room and into the suite where all the runners were supposed to be in. Went he went into the suite, he saw Rudy in the living room. He was silently relieved to see him as this means that they weren't completely gone. He calmed his inner self and talked to Rudy.

"What's going on? I can't find Leblanc and Victorique."

littleRED

12 years ago

//Rudy the Rat//

"Geesh, man, where have you been? I thought they got you too!" The technomancer was obviously agitated.

"Leblanc and Charon where kidnapped right of the suites and we caught them just in time as they came back for Victorique!" He started waving with his hands, his eyes shining in excitement.

"And then Sandy and Dussack went after the kidnappers and got Leblanc and Charon back! With a Ferrari!!! The doctor is in the bedroom with Victorique and I tied her kidnapper up locked him into the toilett."

"Sandman and Dussack are on their way back with Leblanc and Charon and the two who guys who tried to get away with them. I hope the Doc can make them talk ..."

Damienthedevil

12 years ago

"I had....something else that came up. Don't worry, I'll won't be leaving again any time soon." Cronis answered Rudy offhandedly. He pondered on about what Rudy had told him.

Someone snuck in? Is it the guys that the masked man hired? But then why would he want to threaten me if that's the case? This isn't making any sense......No matter, I'll only have to do what I have to.

Cronis sat at the couch that's right next to the room in the lounge and calmed himself as he pondered on.

This is getting tougher. After an attack like that, it'll be harder to kill Leblanc. They'll be much more alarmed than usual. Especially that Dussack fellow and Sandman. I'll have to do it discreetly......

Kheldar

12 years ago

Noise. Why is there noise? Slowly I stir from my sleep, relcutantly I have to admit. There was noise but it didn't sound like anything major was happening so I took my time, enjoying the soft comfort of the bed and staring down at the smaller figure lying next to me. A tender smile is brought to my lips, my dreams already forgotten. I take care to do as little as possible to disturb N as I extract myself from the bed. Rubbing sleep from my eyes I grab my clothes and strap on my gun. I sniff my shirt before throwing it on. I really should but on something else but at the moment I can't be bothered trying to find some spare clothes.

Still not wanting to let go to that fragile comfort of having just woke up I open the door silently and close it behind me. Stepping into the main room. I wake up a bit quicker than I would of liked. I look around at the team or whats left of it at the moment. Just Victoria,the good Doc and Cronis. Something must have happened. And I've been sleeping like a child through it all. A whispered "Shit" comes from clenched teeth. I start over towards the Doc. Theres no time for self lamenting, god willing I'll have the rest of my life for that. Divesting my speech of its usual politness I ask quite bluntly "Whats happened while I was asleep?" I barely managed to keep myself from blurting out why wasn't I woken up? To be honest I fear that answer. I don't want to be useless. I look at the Doc expectantly but respectfully, he seems to have just finished some sort of procedure.

This post is incorrect. Refer to littleReds post beneath. (Yeah I'm lazy)

littleRED

12 years ago

Rudy smiled at Traitor and patted him on the shoulder.

"For the skimpy two hours you were asleep, Traitor, disturbingly lot." Technomancer explained him then that Leblanc was obviously kidnapped, as were Charon and Victorique - all three by the same hotel employee, whom he had left tied up in the studio's toilette-part of the bathroom.

He explained him that they managed to intercept the kidnappers, while they were trying to take Victorique and that she was now in the 4-bed room, the Doc waking her up - and that Sandman and Dussack were on their way back to the inn with Leblanc and Charon.

The older man patted Traitor on the shoulder: "I didn't wake you guys up, since you were probably very tired and everything happened so fast anyway ... so don't worry about it. We got it under control."

Kheldar wrote...

Just Victoria,the good Doc and Cronis.

//Like I said, Victorique (not Victoria) and the good Doc are in the presidential suite studio (the 4-bed bedroom with a separate entrance and bathroom) and the door is closed. So the ones in the common room are Rudy and ShadowFang (aka Cronis).//

In the meantime, Sandman was on the way back to the inn, Leblanc sitting unconscious beside her in the passenger seat.

She was carrying out Dussack's suggestion to take Leblanc to the hotel immediately and prepare a "welcome commitee" for him, while he would deal with Charon and the two paramedics.

She parked the red Ferrari into the exact same spot and position and let Rudy deal with the traces. It was like she had never taken it.

She put Leblanc carefully over her shoulder and took the elevator up to the penthouse. Reaching the suite, she went in through the foyer and common room (nodding at ShadowFang, Rudy and Traitor), straight into the master bedroom.

The red-head ignored the girl - N - sleeping on the bed and put down Leblanc beside her. Rudy was right behind her, a look of concern on his face.

"Is she ok?" He asked.

Sandman nodded: "Yeah, only unconscious. Could you please tell the Doc that I need her to wake Leblanc up. Oh, and: Dussack is on his way here with Charon and two knocked out paramedics. He'll probably need help to drag them up here."

Rudy nodded and hurried away, turning only for a moment to inform her about one more thing: "BTW, ShadowFang is back. He wasn't kidnapped, he obivously just had some urgent stuff to finish."

He left her alone with Leblanc and N in the room and went to call the dryad before he left for the garage to wait to Dussack.

Flaser OCD Hentai Collector

12 years ago

Dussack jumped once more, the handle jerking another inch and coming to a solid stop. Finally... With the last lug in place, it was secure, so he got in started the engine and took off toward the hotel.

...

Earlier, it took him a good twenty minutes to load the two paramedics, make sure both them and Charon were strapped in, get rid of the shot-up to tire and replace it with the spare one. The later he could've done it in the hotel's garage, but he wanted to limit the amount of footage Rudy had to doctor to the minimum.

He was working while the technomancer pinged him:

>Boss?
>What?
>You won't believe this, but *Midnight* just strolled in...
>Apparently he left on some "urgent" business of his own...
>Tama de!
>'scuse me?!
>Not you, I'll explain later...
>-.-" OK.

He was done taking off the shot up tire, when he pinged Rudy for a heads-up:

>Is Sandy there yet?
>She arrived a couple of minutes ago, she's with the Doctor now.
>Any prognosis on Leblanc?
>Dunno, boss. I've been busy fixing the comlinks.
>Good job. At least there's *one* guy I can rely on beside Sandman.
>^.^"
>How is *that* coming along? I'm gonna need a secure comlink soon...
>Almost done with the piece Cronis gave me, yours will take...
>Later. Finish the comlink, then get started fixing the hotel's logs... RAW footage too.
>But...
>I know! You pwned them...
>I hate pulling you off the job like this, but we might might need to move soon.
>Got 'ya. Rudy out.

...

The intervening minutes were silent except for the disorienting wafts of thought and morels of information as Saul was still wafting through the security logs of the hotel. He was almost there when he pinged the technomancer.

>Get down to the garage I'll be there in a moment.
>Have Fang accompany you, he might as well do something useful.
>10-4
>...and take care of the...
>Cameras. Got you covered, Mr. Solo.
>Roger OPs, Dussack out.

He rolled into the garage and the elevator doors opened, as if by magic...

Damienthedevil

12 years ago

Cronis saw Leblanc being carried away, unconscious, by Sandman. His eyes went a little wide as he ponder on the possibility of killing Leblanc.

No wait. Don't get rash, Cronis. You're facing bad odds here. Sandman is strong, the doc probably a good mage and Ratman here might just alert security. Not to mention I haven't seen robo girl around. That drone might be packing some heavy weapons. Don't need to rush, I'll get a chance sooner or later.

Rudy walked over to Cronis. "Hey, Fang. Dussack's back with Charon. He told us to go down to help him."

Cronis snapped out of his thoughts, "...Huh? Oh...Yeah, sure." Cronis just followed Rudy out of the suite. As he exited the suite, Cronis glanced back briefly over his shoulders and walked on towards the elevator following Rudy.

NeoStriker

12 years ago

I wake up from a disturbance in the force beside me. I sit up wearily and rub my eyes, still tired. I quickly use my link to check how much time has passed, and it's only been two hours. What the hell. I drop back onto the bed, hugging the pillow and feeling the coolness underneath it. But the disturbance doesn't go away. I turn around to check over Trimmer and what I see shocks me to the very core. He's turned into wom-oh it's just...her. Oh god, fine, guess I have to wake up. I sit up again while rubbing my eyes once more and I look around the room. THIS IS GETTING WORSE AND WORSE. I immediately do a body check on myself to see if I've been touched while I was asleep, and thankfully, I wasn't. I breathe a mute sigh of relief, before getting out of bed and slipping on my jacket and monitor display again. I hesitantly turn to face the Sandelion with the words, "Yo. How's life?"

littleRED

12 years ago

//Rudy the Rat with ShadowFang//

The technomancer looked at the tall assassin from the corner of his eye, while they were standing in the elevator.

He was curious where the night-elf had dissappeared to.

I wonder, he thought to himself, if I could ...

And trackker-sprite was already on it's way. It didn't take it long, actually it was done in a moment. Rudy's eyes widened.

He reached for Dussack's commlink to tell him about Fang's little ... "situation". By the time they reached the garage, Dussack was already well informed.

//Sandman with N and the Doctor//

The red-head grinned at the young girl, as she checked up her body.

"Don't you worry about that, sweetcheeks. I wouldn't wanna taint your innocent little body - I think you'd prefer Traitor to do it anyway."

Her grin turned into a gentle smile: "Just don't break his heart."

In that moment the dryad entered the room, nodded at them both and started pulling out small velvet pouches. It all looked too cute, but Sandman knew better than to underestimate someone/something by looks.

She sighed dreamily at the dryad's suggestion: "Well, as much as I'd enjoy having her as our personal toy for a while, I think I prefer having her being her normal self. Just wake her up."

The solo thought for a moment and added then with a smug grin: "Maybe we could think of something later on."

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