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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Rules-based RPGs --> Cyberpunk --> Flesh & Blood - A Night City Adventure
Parent thread: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
GM for this game: Bromern Sal
Players for this game: TannTalas, Ayrn, Vesper, Keeper of Dragons, Hammer, Impulse, Aletheia
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    Messages in Flesh & Blood - A Night City Adventure
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TannTalas
Trilogy Master
Karma: 158/107
5492 Posts


Well sh*t Brom :(

Night City Regional General Hospital, Emergency Room | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 2:09 AM PST Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)
Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)


That’s when it becomes apparent to Casino that there are approximately ten figures clad in black body armor and full face battle masks moving quickly about the room, making quick work of the ill-prepared sec-forces. These individuals are armed for bear and armored well enough to take on battalions, and they’re moving his way fast.

“You have got to be f***ing kidding me “The solo muttered under his breath as he watched the 10 masked gun man move through the ER.

Turning to Riggs and his partner.

“Murtaugh take these cuffs off damn it, and give me your heavy pistol and extra ammo. Keep your back-up as your gonna need to go get help while Riggs and I try to hold them in place and keep them from spreading out into the hospital”

Holding out his cuffed wrists, the big solo could only hope that the older cop would agree and do as Casino has asked..........


Posted on 2016-12-18 at 15:26:51.

Impulse
Resident
Karma: 10/0
398 Posts


not much to do for me

Bloodbank had no business acting out his plan of theirs, he wasn't really suited for this.

As he holstered his gun and he was told about a camera, he let out a silent curse.

Doing his best to cover his face now, he glanced at the camera and thought I hope this job doesn't come to bite me in the ass


Posted on 2017-01-06 at 09:09:49.

Bromern Sal
A Shadow
RDI Staff
Karma: 117/10
2582 Posts


Be a hero... | Cover up | Choices

Night City Regional General Hospital, Emergency Room | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 2:45 AM PST Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)
Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

“Welcome to you nightmare!” a voice calls out over the cacophony of screams and weapons fire. “Everybody get the hell on the floor! We’re in for a long night.”

That’s when it becomes apparent to Casino that there are approximately ten figures clad in black body armor and full face battle masks moving quickly about the room, making quick work of the ill-prepared sec-forces. These individuals are armed for bear and armored well enough to take on battalions, and they’re moving his way fast.

“You have got to be f***ing kidding me,“ the solo mutters under his breath as he watches the ten masked gunmen move through the ER. Turning to Riggs and his partner he makes a demand.

“Murtaugh, take these cuffs off, damn it, and give me your heavy pistol and extra ammo. Keep your back-up as your gonna need to go get help while Riggs and I try to hold them in place and keep them from spreading out into the hospital.”

Holding out his cuffed wrists, the big solo can only hope that the older cop would agree and do as Casino has asked. Murtaugh glances his way and rolls his eyes.

“You must think we’re f***king crazy if you think we’re handing over any weapons to you,” Riggs sneers while never taking his eyes off of the advancing gunmen.

“Any of you choombas feel the need to be a hero,” the same gunman who had spoken before bellows. He walks down the middle of the lobby with his submachine gun held up to his shoulder, confident and very much in charge. “And we’ll need to make an example of you. Do what we say and you might just make it out of this alive.”

“I could flank ‘em,” Murtaugh suggests quietly.

“And what?” Riggs counters. “Bruise one of them? That’s military grade armor.”

“Now,” the lead gunman stops his progression only ten meters from the row of chairs behind which the police officers and Casino crouches. His head turns in a slow survey of the room, finally stopping as he looks directly at the back of the chairs. “What have we here?”

Dropping the muzzle of his submachine gun so that it points in Casino’s direction, he tilts his head slightly to the right. “Looks like a bunch of would-be heroes.”

“Sh*t!” Murtaugh curses.

“Whoa!” Riggs calls out. “Whoa! We aren’t being heroes. Ain’t no heroes here. I’m just going to stand up now and we can talk. How about that?”

“Sure,” the gunman says cheerily. “Let’s talk.”

“Don’t do it,” Murtaugh warns but Riggs doesn’t listen and rises from where he crouches, hands wide, his weapon dangling from his right index finger by the trigger guard.

“There. No heroes here,” he calls.

The gunman’s submachine gun lurches with a short burst and next to Casino, Riggs staggers backward to fall against the next row of chairs scattering a couple and overturning the one he encounters.

“Riggs!” Murtaugh yells. His attention momentarily diverted by the murder of his partner, the older officer fails to see the rapid advancement of a smaller gunman, a woman, Casino is able to determine by her figure. “Urk!” Murtaugh chokes when the side of his neck explodes outward in a red shower of arterial blood. Turning in surprise, he grips his slit throat and gives in to the desire to sink into nothingness. The masked female attacker wipes the monoblade wakizashi on the thigh of her dead black tactical pants and turned to face Casino’s location.

“Well,” the leader says through his mask with a cheerful demeanor. “That’s the end of the heroes. Now, what do do about the metalhead… What about it, Metalhead? Wanna talk? Wanna be a hero? Those cops weren’t no friend of yours. Question is, are you gonna get flatlined tonight, or uncuffed?”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

West 43875 St. 52 High | Night City Integrate | High City | UrbanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 3:15 AM PST
Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)
Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ghlahn can tell the climb is not an easy one for Fixer. Now, the trail is at a fork. There is no way Fixer can climb any further and the only other option is to break and enter the building. That option presents too many variables. There could be people working late, an alarm, random security patrols or who knows what.

"Well bud,” the stocking-capped, combat masked solo stops long enough to address the techie. “looks like this is where we part ways for a bit. I can continue upwards but there is no way you can follow. Wait here and I'll collect you on the way back down. Time for me to do what I do." Ghlahn continues his ascent without waiting for a reply. Without Fixer, he can focus on the task at hand and cause maximum confusion.

The continued climb is relatively simple for the lithe man despite the gear he’s carrying. Rolling over the fire escape’s banister he deftly traverses the thin ledge to the corner of the building. Taking time to peer around the corner, he breathes calmly into his mask, the built-in filter clearing the vast majority of the pollutants from the air before it enters his lungs. Before him, the same style of ledge continues across the face of the structure. Quickly counting ten windows, he calculates the time it will take him to move to the center of the building. Fast-stepping across the window spaces, the nimble rifleman makes it to his desired position in short order. Leaning momentarily against the wet brick of the building, he surveys the cross work of metal beams and ductwork extending across the bottom of the protruding structure overhead. Leaping upward, M’haru Ghlahn grabs hold of the lower portion of the I-beam directly overhead and grips it tightly with his bare fingers.

White knuckling the grip and by the sheer strength of his fingers, the black-clad soldier moves hand-over-hand, booted feet dangling over forty meters of open air until he is able to swing his legs up into the crisscross network of thick steel support structure for the holographic projection display. Bringing his hands to meet his knees, he shimmies his body through the diamond shaped hole and settles his feet onto the maintenance catwalk with a dull thunk.

From his new vantage point, Ghlahn is able to see quite some distance both directions down the street. Un-shouldering his Nomad .44, he walks to the left edge of the platform and places his left elbow on the rail, bringing the butt of his rifle to his shoulder. The ideal target is something without armor, thick metal structure, or any safety measures he’s going to have to punch through. Most of the regular traffic is just that, unprotected and unthreatening. Smart-vehicles where the driver doesn’t actually drive connected to the city’s wireless network populate the lanes. These present the problem of automatic safety features built into the system. Not ideal.

Older vehicles are less likely to be outfitted with the same level of protective sensors and reflexive response mechanism. Much older vehicles are the best. Much, much older vehicles are ideal. Patience is the key. Patience and luck.

On the street level, Blossom frowns at the camera and rolls the lollipop around in her mouth with her tongue. They are all on camera now. Each one of their faces. Anything that happens in this area is sure to be pinned on them, at the very least they’ll be suspects. Blossom doesn’t like being a known entity in the System. She’s worked too hard to keep her identity out of the public’s eye to have one run ruin her anonymity.

Bloodbank has no business acting out his plan of theirs, he isn’t really suited for this. As he holsters his gun and is told about a camera, he lets out a silent curse. Sliding his combat mask over his face, he glances at the camera and thinks, I hope this job doesn't come to bite me in the ass.
“Frag it!” the pretty little nomad huffs. “Too late to do anything now. We should shoot it out and call it done.”

“Shooting it out might draw in some local calvary, doll,” Vegas drawls. “Keep your backs too it, or keep your face covered. We’re betting on the business owner’s ambivalence in this case. Blacks and doubles. Best we can hope for.”

“And what if that camera covers out into the street? Even the manhole?” Echo asks grimly.

“No way to know that,” the dapper don shrugs his broad shoulders and follows his own advice, turning his back to the camera.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Blossom mutters, already activating her digital holographic keyboard and punching in some code she begins the process of trying to leach onto the wifi signal. “Piece of gomi firewall…” Unable to hitch a ride, her next bet is to try and feed the camera a virus. Wishing silently that she could wardrive this beast, the netrunner loads up one of her store bought viruses and leads it in with a program of her own creation that pounds the firewall like a hammer looking for a hole in the ports. This time, her software returns a positive result and the commands are quickly entered sending her virus into the system.

“If the virus I just injected isn’t shut down by any security software that may be running, the stored video files should be corrupted. It’ll take a forensic computer engineer to repair them after that. Now, anyone got anything to cover the lens?”

(OOC: I’ll let this play out. If any of you don’t still have access to your character sheets, let me know and I’ll grant access again.)

Perched high above his teammates, Ghlahn studies the stream of vehicles still very much alive despite the early morning hour. And there it is. Just turning onto the street is an older van. Rust covers the fenders over the wheel wells, the grill is broken away over the entire driver’s side revealing the radiator, and a crack splits the windshield from the bottom corner of the driver’s side to just past three-quarters mid-way up the window.

Now comes the real dilemma. What to shoot? Being Cee-Metal, Ghlahn has grown up around machines and machinery. They’re built tough, even the older rigs. Shooting through the radiator won’t do much to immediately stop the vehicle. From this distance, the .44 round he has chambered won’t penetrate the engine block. The battery might be an option if he could figure out what side of the engine it sat. He’d promised his companions he wouldn’t kill anyone… options are limited.


Posted on 2017-01-07 at 00:02:16.

Keeper of Dragons
Devil's Advocate
Karma: 41/18
1824 Posts


.

Silently cursing his luck at having ammo perfectly suited to the task, Ghlan takes aim at his target. "I said no killing, never said no hurting." Settling his sights on the driver, he fired off two quick round. Bullets to each shoulder should cause the driver to crash, hopefully into another vehicle. that should cause a distraction. Not waiting to see the outcome he moved to find a target coming from the other direction. Not nearly as picky now, anything was fair game.

Posted on 2017-01-07 at 06:22:31.

TannTalas
Trilogy Master
Karma: 158/107
5492 Posts


A day in the life......Or death

Night City Regional General Hospital, Emergency Room | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 2:46 AM PST Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)
Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)


And just like that it was over, Rigg’s and Murtaugh dead in front of him. As Casino shook his head in wonder a new choice was brought before him. As the solo watched, the armed and masked leader approached him.

“Well,” the leader says through his mask with a cheerful demeanor. “That’s the end of the heroes. Now, what do do about the metalhead… What about it, Metalhead? Wanna talk? Wanna be a hero? Those cops weren’t no friend of yours. Question is, are you gonna get flatlined tonight, or uncuffed?”

Looking up at the masked leader Casino gave nothing away in his eyes or gestures. Holding his wrists up his eyes never left the leaders.

“Well your right the cops were not friends, and yeah I’d rather be un-cuffed. As for being a hero, well that’s not my style, hero’s get dead, I get paid.”


Posted on 2017-01-11 at 23:33:04.
Edited on 2017-01-11 at 23:33:48 by TannTalas

   
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