This is every turn thus far collected and formatted for your viewing pleasure and reference. I'm not even going to make excuses or apologize this time. Whatever.
The setting is now Roll to Dodge: Roll to Dodge: Cyberpunk Razor Gang Battle
In Roll to Dodge: Roll to Dodge, Timmy, Phillip and Karl are all sitting around a table, waiting for the fourth and final party member to join them. Miss Randy Dipthong, who called the gang here this fateful night for some good ol' fashioned roll to dodgeness, however, has grown too anxious too hold things up any longer, and is afraid the other members may soon be too drunk to play, so she decided to get the game rolling (pun intended), and see if their other party member eventually shows up, hopefully with a case of beers and some women.
It is night, and it is starting to rain. A crumpled, half empty bag of Cheetos lies near the table. There is Dr. Pibb and a 24 pack of PBR in the fridge in the kitchen. Several over-filled containers of Legos jut from an open closet. There are scratch marks on the wall behind a bookshelf where it looks like the shelf may have been moved sometime in the past.
Silverdream now enters and creates a characterTurn I.V
In RtD: RtD: CpRGB wrote:Paveene-Prashad-Hussain-Abdul-Jabar is driving a taxi whilst trying to overhear the conversation of his occupants. The taxi moves at a leisurely pace down dark, rain-slicked roads with steam issuing forth from grates in the side-walk. The road may as well be the bottom of a dark canyon, with cliff-walls on either side forged in grey metal. Bright neon and LED displays advertise products overhead, and laud the latest innovations in Deck-technology, the IntroDyne-CybroSystems Cybrodyne4000, a Deck which (if the adverts are to be believed) offers its user superior speed in surfing the Matrix that is cyberspace while giving him freedom to still perceive the world around him.
Various vendors sell all manner of tech products, microchips, used decks, and cybernetic implants from street carts as the taxi passes through the underclass merchant district of Neo-Noir City.
In the back of the taxi-hovercab sits Dr. Inferno (he has a Ph.D, you know), wearing a slick black tux and mirrored sunglasses, with a distinctive scar running down his left cheek, and a barely visible tattoo under the cuff of his right sleeve, possibly indicating affiliation with the Yakuza. He has just picked up his mark, a young hacker who goes by the pseudonym Privet Joannes. Privet is a very reclusive young man. He has lived on the streets his whole life, and is a high-ranking member of the Technoshark gang. He came to the good doctor's attention when he tried to hack into the security database of IntroDyne-CybroSystems just for fun, and made it past every firewall but one.
IntroDyne-CybroSystems has something the Doctor wants, and he thinks he can use Privet to attain it, so he is attempting to make him a deal. He is armed with a hidden dart gun in his sleeve, as well as wearing full body armor. Privet is unarmed, but for a vibro-switchblade in his sock.
Suddenly, a rap at the door!
"It's about fucking time!" exclaims Miss Randy. "Get your fucking arse in here McDreamy, you fuckin' bag of dicks!"
The door opens, and in walks Girlface, soaked from head to toe, but not wearing a white shirt, much to the dismay of everyone else.
"Sorry I'm late guys. My mom wouldn't let me leave until I finished my homework.... Because I am 15 and shouldn't be here, where there is obviously alcohol consumption taking place."
"Don't be a dildo," chimes Karl von S.
Halfafal pulls out a chair for Girlface, but pulls it out too far, too fast (6) and nuts himself, losing 1/2 HP and 1/2 his balls, which, if he's lucky, haven't dropped yet anyway. In a more high-pitched voice than usual: "Here you go, m'lady."
Girlface thinks for a minute, trying to come up with a good character name. After what seems like ages to the impatient Miss Randy, she finally announces, "Alright guys, I want to be.... (rolls a 6) KAREN CURTIS CYBERDETECTIVE CYBERDENAIRE!" The unnecessary overkill of the shouting wears out her vocal chords for the rest of the evening, forcing her to sound like she just smoked 18 packs of menthol cigarettes in a row.
in RtD: RtD: CpRGB wrote:
Karen Curtis, cyberdetective cyberdenaire leans against a building in a dark alley, ash glowing on the end of a cigarette dangling from her mouth, and smoke pouring from its tip like milk into water. She narrows her eyes and examines the monitor for the tracking device she previously affixed to Dr. Inferno's brief case. She's not quite sure what the doc is up to or what his interest is in the kid she just saw him pick up, but she's being paid good credits by a mysterious Japanese man to find out.
"God," she quietly mutters, contemplating the adolescent riding in the taxi with Inferno, "I hope he's not a pedo...."
The monitor blinks, indicating the taxi is approaching her position.
current stats wrote:Karen=6HP
current stats wrote:Miss Randy Dipthong=5HP and drunk
Timmy Half-a-fail=5 1/2HP and only 1 nut (of questionable droppage)
Karl von Streisenheisendeisenberg=6HP
Girlface McDreamy= soaking wet, hoarse voiced and 6HP
Girlface informs Miss Randy of the action she wants her character to take.
Miss Randy attempts to roll and (6) in a drunken rage at Girlface joining the game so late, hurls the die across the room, knocking over a can of PBR that Karl had just opened, before ricocheting into a cult that had been lounging on the floor and finally landing a roll of 5.
There is now an angry cult in the room.
"For fuck's sake!" cries Miss Randy.
In order to get over how terrible Runs is at spelling and grammar, I'm just going to go ahead and pretend he's drunk. Since he's a lightweight, he's drunk after only two beers.
in RtD:RtD:CpRGB wrote:Karen decides to tail the cab from a different cab (5), but then remembers how fucking awesome a cyberdective she is and that she just had both an agility-enhancing and a temporary cloaking implant installed, so instead leaps like a stealthy ninja puma onto the back of the very cab carrying her prey, and initiates the cloak field generator. She presses her sexy ear to the rear windshield to get a better listen to what's going on inside.
"What the hell was that?" inquires Privet Joannes in the most nonchalant and simultaneously angsty way he can muster.
"Probably just a bump in the road," replies Inferno, "Now, about my proposition--do we have a deal?"
Paveene-Prashad-Hussain-Abdul-Jabar knows it wasn't a bump in the road. He moves his hand uneasily to the standard issue cab driver stun gun/ pepper spray/ walkie talkie/ grenade at his side....
PBR count=21 Turn II
Phillip attempts to lure the cult with some catnip he found laying around the place, (2) but is unable to tell the difference between catnip and marijuana and can't understand why the cult won't be calmed. He tries getting a little bit closer to it, but the cult just arches its back into a more threatening position, hissing away. Girlface, knowing that cults often take more to the touch of a woman walks brazenly over to the cult, crouches down, and scoops it up in her arms, talking like a baby to it. (1) However, the cult just looks tweaked the fuck out now and just wants everybody to leave it alone. Phillip continues to advance with his "catnip" treat, which causes the cult to climb right onto McDreamy's face, and clutch it for dear life like a fuzzy, freaked out headcrab, with it's claws latched firmly into the flesh of McDreamy's face (-1 HP). McDreamy starts running around screaming for someone to get the fucking cult off her fucking face, but no one can understand a damn word coming out of her mouth because her voice is still hoarse, and she is screaming into the warm belly of a cult which is firmly cemented over her lips. She is unable to give her orders to Miss Randy for her character's actions right now.
Timmy adjusts his nut[s] (4). He is more comfortable now, and completely too drunk to care about what's going on with the girl screaming with a cult affixed to her face.
Miss Randy had had plans for the young, cat-faced girl, but her machinations don't amount to much now that she's running around bleeding from her face with a fucking cult on her head. Actually, Miss Randy is pretty sure she's into that sort of thing, so she puts on her S&M cosy nonetheless (3). Either way, she feels she can more fully immerse her players in the world she's created for them when they're cowering before the power of a leather-bound dominatrix.
"Would you all just leave Mister Pussyfeathers alone for crissakes!" laughs Miss Randy Diphthong. She sits down in all her leathery splendor and rolls the dice for the other player's actions. (I rolled a 2 for how well Miss Randy rolled for the characters, which means she failed at rolling for them. No epic successes will be allowed for them this round, and every other roll, except a 6, has a 50/50 chance of "tipping at the last minute" to show the next number lower) She kind of sucks at rolling dice today though--they end up just limply falling out of her hand onto the table. She mentally chides herself for showing any weakness to these impressionable underlings of hers.
Karl von Streisenheisendeisenberg sits there, twiddling his thumbs, and (1) failing to look at Miss Randy even though he wants to, his eyelids for some reason seem to have tape on them.
in RtD: RtD: CpRGB wrote:
Privet attempts to warn Inferno that his proximity implant senses another presence watching them (1), but he is so overcome with a sudden fit of stress and anxiety at the notion that his words come out sounding like marbles covered in saliva, and the doctor just tilts his head and gives him a quizzical stare.
"Mmfphthal thwwar thstal!" Announces Joannes as he reaches down to finger his knife, but ends up, in his confusion, fingering something else instead.... We won't go into details there (-1 HP).
Dr. Inferno--who is apparently from a completely different timeline and none of us had any fucking clue until now--(4) unlatches the completely outdated and totally easy to hack steam-powered latches on his brief case. He also unsheathes an antiquated pistol that was probably effective at killing things like balloon animals once upon a time.
"Doc, you ought to look into getting a decent lasgun or at least a stunwand or something," says Privet, who is able to speak now.
Paveene-Prashad-Hussain-Abdul-Jabar just keeps on keepin' on, (6) making a helluva sharp turn, launching his passengers into the walls of his cab due to the laws of inertia. He shouts like a madman into his walkie-talkie, telling some mysterious entity that "IT'S FUCKIN' SHOWTIME BITCHES!" Could Paveene-Prashad-Hussain-Abdul-Jabar be in league with a rival gang of the CyberSharks? Could he be under the employ of IntroDyne-CybroSystems? Or is something far more sinister at work in our seemingly innocuous cabbie? The plot thickens....
Suddenly, the hovercab screeches to a halt. (4) A make-shift pile of twisted metal, razer-wire and land-mines looms ahead of them, blocking their path. Several members of the RamScope PsyberPyschos swoop in from behind on hoverbikes, waving lasguns and hypodermic needles.
From the top of the mountain of spiky and explody things, a voice calls down.
"'Ey Privet, you snorky hooper! I know you bein' in this 'ere cab! What say you come out fir a nice chatsumup an' nobody else gets lased?" Laughter erupts from the cronies on the bikes. Privet recognizes the voice as that of Flix Grazor, second in command of the PsyberPsychos.
current stats wrote:Paveene-Prashad-Hussain-Abdul-Jabar = 6 HP, questionable motives
Doctor Inferno Ph.D. = 6 HP, wielding a clockwork pistol
Karen Curtis cyberdetective cyberdenaire = 6 HP, cloaked
Privet Joannes = 5 HP
current stats wrote:PBR count = 21
Mister Pussyfeathers = hysterical
Miss Randy Diphthong = 6 HP, leathered, still drunk
Timmy Halfafal = 5 1/2 HP, wasted
Catface McDreamy = 5 HP, catfaced
Karl von Streisenheisendeisenberg = 6 HP, tape-blinded
(Alright, I rolled a 5 for Miss Randy, which I guess means everything happens like she said...)
There is a knock at the door. Randy gets up with a lot of squeaking and latex farting noises before getting her act together and sexily sashaying to the door. Always cautious she checks the spy hole before opening the door.
"Hey! It's the Pizza delivery guys!" Her words are met with a resounding cheer from the players, with the exception of Girlface who is saying "ouch, ouch, ouch" while trying to get Mister Pussyfeathers off her face.
Opening the door, she gives the pizza boy an eyeful and takes the pizza boxes, leaving him stunned and unable to speak as she shuts the door on him without paying.
"Ok, who ordered the Curry Chicken Tikka Pizza with extra Cumquat?.."
Karl smells something delicious and (1) hits himself in the face with a fork (-1/2 HP) for no apparent reason.
Catfaced McDreamy feels she is not contending with any normal, mortal house cult, and decides to take drastic measures to pacify it (3). She removes her shirt, knowing full well there are boys in the room and exactly what her mother told her about such behavior, and wraps it around the cult. Poor Mister Pussyfeathers is in such a confusion as to what's going on, what he did wrong, why people were throwing dice at him in the first place, and why he's now suffocating inside a soaking wet shirt, that he decides he had better just go ahead and die.
Mister Pussfeathers dies, and Girlface feels absolutely terrible. "Um, Miss Randy, I think I just killed your cult...."
Philip decides not to do anything at all, other than give special attention to giving his orders to Miss Randy on what he wants his character to do, which is to ready a switchblade, which incenses Miss Randy, since his character is a hacker and not a fighter, but whatever. It's his funeral.
Timmy (6) gets a slice of pizza so hard that all the other pizza explodes in a delicious burst of blended Indian and Italian flavors, making everyone else very angry at how hard he got that pizza. He's too busy chowing down to care though.
"Stupid drunk kids...." mutters Miss Randy. "Alright you asswads, before we go any further, there's a bit more information I need to give you on the background for our game, so listen up. Girlface, I can't decide if I love you for being topless or hate you for being a cat-murderer. I think it's more hate though. Alright, here you go:
"In this world, cyberspace is accessed through personal computers known as Interface Decks, which require a person to physically jack in (kind of like the Matrix films). Cyberspace takes on its own form as a world that a person jacked in navigates via an avatar, but while doing this remains completely oblivious to the outside world. Given this, IntroDyne-CybroSystems's claims to be coming out with a deck that allows its user to remain in both the real world and cyberspace seem far fetched, but there are many who would pay dearly to also possess that sort of technology. No one knows where ID-CS came up with the tech for such a deck, as they have long played second-fiddle to industry giant DromenoTech. Everyone also knows that DromenoTech would pay a heavy price to have those plans for themselves. Now, on with the fuckin' game!" She announces as she prepares to roll for the players' actions (4 = all dice rolls for characters' characters' actions are unmodified).
in RtD: RtD: CpRGB wrote:
Jabar, being the secret weapons expert that he is, has a few tricks up his sleeves yet. I mean, he would if he were wearing sleeves, which he's not, to show of his unbelievably muscly arms covered in tattoos from his past work as a mercenary. Either way (5) everyone thinks he's going to blast his horn at these idiots who are trying to fuck with his fare, but instead engages a totally badass weapons system that was hiding under the hood of his car. A huge fucking canon sized tube erupts out of the unfolding metal of the hood. The device has tubes coiled around it which begin buzzing and glowing with energy. As this is going on, armor plating rapidly sheathes the hovercab and twin minigun turrets fold out from the rear fender.
Inferno wonders where the hell this vehicle fits its internal combustion engine, but is too concerned with his own devices to care that much, really. (1) Unfortunately, as he opens his case to pull out a weapon of truly epic proportions, he remembers that he grabbed the wrong case when he left his lab, and all he manages to pull out is a sun-dried tomato and feta in a whole-grain lavosh and a can of V9 fruit juice. "Damn," he mutters as he decides he had better keep his witty one-liners to himself for now, and keep holding his pistol.
Privet readies his switch-blade (4). Okay, it's ready.
Karen, ever the suave detective, (3) pops two lasguns out of her sleeves and begins taking down the bikers in the rear with deadly precision. However, her cloaking implant malfunctions and reveals her to both her attackers, and the mark she was trying to covertly follow.
All of the mess is washed out in a brilliant flash of white light though when Jabar's light gun finally finishes charging, leaving everyone outside the cab blinded and possibly brain-damaged. When the flash subsides, there is no sign of Flix, but his cronies are easily dispatched by the minigun turrets.
After the gunfire subsides, the armor plating folds back into the cab. Jabar gets out, storms to the passenger door, hurls it open and demands to know just what kind of mess these punks have got him in. Karen stands up, dizzy from the light-bomb, clutching her head as she lights a new cigarette.
current stats wrote:Paveene-Prashad-Hussain-Abdul-Jabar = 6 HP, saved everyone's asses
Doctor Inferno Ph.D. = 6 HP, wielding a clockwork pistol and a delicious looking wrap
Karen Curtis cyberdetective cyberdenaire = 6 HP, dizzy and in need of nicotine and revealed to the rest of the players
Privet Joannes = 5 HP, probably a douche-bag
As Miss Randy finishes relating the events of the game, lightning flashes outside, and a computer monitor on a desk in the corner flicks to life for a brief second before becoming extinguished. Words were on the screen for a split second before the monitor died. Strangely, the light under the webcam remained on like Bonn-o-Tron.
I guess this would be a good time to mention that anytime someone decides to devote their entire turn to only one action, whether it's something their character is doing, or orders their character is giving, their die roll is +1 for that action.... Of course, this also means rolling a 6 has an increased likelihood as well.... Ross joins in here....Turn IV
current stats wrote:PBR count = 21
Mister Pussyfeathers = dead
Miss Randy Diphthong = 6 HP, leathered, coming down off her buzz
Timmy Halfafal = 5 1/2 HP, coming down off his buzz
Girlface McDreamy = 5 HP, topless, underage
Karl von Streisenheisendeisenberg = 5 1/2 HP, tape-blinded, fork faced
Girlface Feels a remorse such as she has never felt before and is overcome with an insatiable urge to begin muttering fictional incantations and ridiculous nonsense, holding hope against hope that something--anything--might come of it. She dances around in her training bra, waving her arms about wildly, tears streaming down her face, unable to concentrate on Miss Randy's game (which pisses her the hell off) (6) and... what's this? Did the cult just twitch? Did an ethereal spark just illuminate the cult's eyes? McDreamy gasps at something that she isn't quite sure what, but only just before Miss Randy gets so fed up with the whole ordeal that, in a flurry of furious latex-clad thighs and calves, she punts the debatably corpsefied kitty out a nearby window (3), causing a shower of shattered glass to erupt, since the window was still closed.
Nonetheless, Girlface's incantations seem to have had some sort of effect, for good or for ill, which now the group may never know... or will they?
"Right! Declare your actions and roll for Initiative you pukefaced bastards," she all but screams at the players, veins violently pulsing in ways that probably aren't healthy on her neck.
Just as the players are about to finally turn their orders in to Miss Randy, there's a knock at the door of her flat. The sound of a cell ringing had somehow been previously lost amongst the commotion of the chanting and the punting and the exploding pizza, and now it seems the one who had been trying to make contact has arrived.
Miss Randy, completely fucking furious by now, gets up and yanks the door open, nearly unhinging it. A sudden flash of lightning illuminates none other than Ricky McCoy.
"Hi guys--Karl mentioned the game," he states, rain dripping off his face, which grows quite flush at the sight of Miss Randy, and the topless teenage Girlface behind her. "Am I too late to join?" he barely manages to stutter.
Miss Randy is about to slam the door on this puke, before she glances down and notices a 6 pack of Rolling Rock.
"Why can't anyone provide a decent draft?" She thinks to herself. "I guess it's better than PBR though...."
Karl, oblivious to everything going on currently, save for what he can gather from his other four senses (which unfortunately doesn't really help to clear up anything for him), tries desperately to pry the tape from his eyes. (6) He pulls with all his might, which--it seems--was way more than necessary, and, in a bloody mess, manages to rip off the tape... along with most of his eyelids. (-1/2 HP)
"Oh, hey Rick," He says, with eyes that would appeal to any hungry shark or vampire or anything else that had a hankering for blood.
Timmy also greets Rick, making sure to note that he is 19. Is Timmy coming onto Rick, this hansom gent who is old enough to buy beer, or at least seems to have a fake I.D.? Rick accepts the information on Timmy's age humbly, and awkwardly.
Timmy, realizing how awkward he just made everything, turns quickly to oggle McDreamy's bra-clad breasticles, so as to reaffirm in everyone's mind his sexual identity. Everyone can tell though that he is overcompensating for something.
"Get your ass in here," Miss Randy orders, brandishing a riding crop and smacking the new arrival with a pleasing "THWAK!" as he passes her. "I'm not rolling up a new Character at this stage, so you can be "Felon" Karen Curtis' monstrously huge Cyber pooch who was keeping pace with the team as Curtis' backup."
Miss Randy begins rolling for the players. (6 = all characters actions can only have extreme results of 1,5, and 6)
in RtD: RtD: CpRGB wrote:
As the dust settles, the four strangers glance warily from one another. Privet glances a sidearm nearby and (6) handily picks it up, gaining points for being quick and potentially smooth, but instantly loosing them when he accidentally fires it into the front hover-suspensor of the cab, eliminating their only mode of transportation.
Inferno wonders exactly what kind of hacker this kid is, and, for the first time in his life, thinks he may have made a mistake in choosing him for a job. He decides to wait and see if the kid truly has any merit as the net-wiz he hopes he is.
"Fucking great!" exclaims Jabar. "That comes out of my paycheck, you asstard!" He calms himself, to an extent. "Alright, I've got my boys coming to give us a lift in five so take what you want from these chumps, and quick, cause once they're on that airlift they'll be too busy being searched to give you any presents. Explanations and all that can wait till we're somewhere safer, so save your breath and get to work," is what he wants to say (1), but he ends up just glaring at the damage done to his cab, fuming under his breath, completely forgetting to set the sentry camera like he meant to.
"Alright, how about we start with introductions," chimes in Karen, seemingly un-phased by all the action, "I'll start. Karen Curtis, cyberdetective cyberdenaire. I'm sure you've heard of me, I--"
Just then, an over-sized cybernetic dog bounds into the open from an alley nearby. It's robotic head glances around the group, eyes glowing red, before focusing intently on Privet.
"Oh, I almost forgot--this is Felon. He comes fully equipped with shoulder-mounted flash-beams, chest compartment flamethrower, four poison-flechette launchers, satellite uplink to the net from anywhere, and a 9000 gig mp3 player, with 25 headphone jacks--you know, just in case."
Dr. Inferno, his own internal mental clockwork ticking away and a mad rate, decides he can use this all to his advantage. "I don't know who's paying you to follow me, Misses Curtis, but I will double their offer if you help me track down something I want instead. As for you... uh..." he stares at his cab driver expectantly.
"Paveene-Prashad-Hussain-Abdul-Jabar," Jabar mutters.
"Right, er, Pravee--uh--Pirann--well, uh, sir, I could definitely use some muscle, and it seems you are more than meets the eye, so to speak. What do you guys say?"
Just then, a shadowy female figure snakes in from the shadows, a tight leather jumpsuit hugging her curves.
"You are--all of you--in way over your heads," she declares with an air of nonchalance. "Right now, all of you have your own motives, and none of you have any idea how similar and intertwined everything really is. And I mean everything. Nothing is what it seems." A cult snakes its way from between her heels and darts off into the rainy night. "We're being watched and I can't explain everything right now. Jabar, I know you think help is on the way, but you're in deeper than you thought on this one. Do NOT wait for your friends to get here. Karen, the man from Japan doesn't exist, and neither does your payment if you chose to listen to him. The only thing that awaits all of you right now is destruction, not just death. If you want to know everything, meet me at this location."
She hands the doctor a metal plate with an address engraved into it: 619 Ascension Ave., Warehouse Dist., Neo-Noir City. When they look up from reading the address, the mystery girl has already vanished back into the night.
Overhead, lightning flashes, and a bit of graffiti is visible on the side of a nearby wall: "Freedom of THAWT."
Current Stats wrote:Paveene-Prashad-Hussain-Abdul-Jabar = 6 HP
Doctor Inferno Ph.D. = 6 HP
Karen Curtis cyberdetective cyberdenaire = 6 HP
Privet Joannes = 5 HP, holding a lasgun that he may or may not know how to use.
Felon = 6HP and 9000 GBs of music
Outside, during a brief flash of lightning, Miss Randy is almost certain she sees a cult staring in the window.
The light under the webcam on the computer which is shut off is still on like Bonn-o-Tron.
Somewhere, another phone seems to be ringing, but, after everyone checking their own cells, the source is indeterminable--it almost seems to be coming from the walls.
Miss Randy downs a rolling rock. "Fuck it," she sneers, and downs a second.
Current Stats wrote:PBR count = 21
Rolling Rock count = 4
Mister Pussyfeathers = simultaneous alive and dead until he can be observed by an outside observer, which will invariably alter his quantum state of being
Miss Randy Diphthong = 6 HP, impatient
Timmy Halfafal = 5 1/2 HP
Girlface McDreamy = 5 HP
Karl von Streisenheisendeisenberg = 5 HP, blood-eyed
Okay, here we go....
Jmatthew on September 14, 2010 wrote:[...]I seriously feel bad that there has been such a long break between turns because I'm having a lot of fun with this too. Meh, I'm over it.
Deal with it.