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)
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
I'll try not to take so long to post the next turn... had quite a bit going on the past couple days, and I apologize.