Shadowrun RPG Play-By-Post Games > Welcome to the Shadows

Back to the Shack

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Ruski:
As Sylvester clears the coffee covered counter he is attacked by Fornis, the mage uttering the last syllable of a spell before the crossbow bolt reaches his throat.
Switching to the astral Sylvester watches as Kinsey’s signature sputters and fades, while a lightning bolt races towards him in psychedelic hews. 
Sylvester puts up his willpower as a tangible shield in the astral plane, but the dying mage’s spell burns through it and still manages to strike him in the chest.
He can feel his lungs tighten, and his heart skips a beat or five as the astral plane tries to kill him. Pushing through the pain his vision goes blurry and he can feel the nervous tremors that precede  deep cellular damage. He continues running.
His only consolation is that he gets to see the mage’s astral figure implode as the very real crossbow bolt sinks into his throat.
Take that Fragger!

Sylvester sprints towards the gun missing only a half step somewhere in the middle while the mage microwaves his brain.  Sylvester is only half-watching as the thug named ‘crank’ pumps round after round into the pile of meat that use to be Kinsey.

Reaching his destination after what seems an eternity, Sylvester switches back to his natural vision mode and scoops up the heavy pistol with both hands, noticing the “Welcome to Aries” showing up in his-double vision outlined PAN as the smart-link instantly comes online and activates on pickup.

Aim for the one in the middle.
Sylvester fires twice at the still standing Crank’s back, hoping that the heavy pistol is able to keep the gang member down long enough for him to get to his van.
A good friend of his once said: “A pistol is only good enough to fight your way back to your car, so you can pick up the long-gun you should have brought with you in the first place.”




--- Quote ---Dicey-Dice:

Manabolt 3 sucesses (difficulty level:4)

Willpower: 2 (edge 2) Magic 1 = 5 dice (need 3 hits… please oh please oh please)
5d6.hitsopen(5,6) → [[6, 6, 3],2,2,3,2] = (2)
5d6.hitsopen(5,6)=2
Takes 2 points off of the 3 successes.
Resist 6 boxes of damage with 4 body dice.
4d6.hits(5) → [4,4,3,2] = (0) (^%$^%$$$!!!)
Takes six boxes of damage. (moderate wound -2 dice pool)

Gun-shooting:
Aries Preditor type-T
Internal smartlink + 2 dice -2 dice for wrong sized weapon
(net wash)
5P, AP-1; Semi-Auto 15 rounds in a clip. Value 300Y
Agility 7 weapons skill 4 (– 2 for wounds)  = 9 dice

9d6.hits(5) → [4,5,3,3,3,6,6,5,6] = (5)
9d6.hits(5) → [6,3,4,4,5,3,6,2,3] = (3)
9d6.hits(5)=5, 9d6.hits(5)=3

--- End quote ---

Ingo Monk:
Eric dives over the multi-colored woman thinking to himself that this would look awesome in John Woo III's next trid flick.  He smirks to himself as the rainbow catches his boot, turning his dive into a spiral of doom.  In a split second the smirk is replaced with a look of terror as his face collides with the door mid-spiral-of-doom-dive.

WHAM!!¡¡!!111!!!

His body seems to float for a second, like a dart stuck to a dart board.  In an instant he falls to the ground in a pile, at least that time his face wouldn't break his fall.  In a slight daze, he goes into full VR.  He thought to himself that if he's going to die, at least he'd record the murder and broadcast it out.  One way or another his killer would be brought to justice!


--- Quote from: OOC ---Damage resistance vs. face!  Well, his face doesn't have armor so it's just body I supposed.  I'll throw Edge into the roll.
Body 2 + Edge 2 = Pool of 4
4d6.hitsopen(5, 6) → [2,3,[6, 5],1] = (2)
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3500149/

Hooray Edge!

--- End quote ---

kv:
A critic is someone who never actually goes to the battle, yet who afterwards comes out shooting the wounded.
- Tyne DalyMusica

The two gunshots echo like cannon fire, putting to rest the myth that troll-sized guns use standard ammo. A lot of the propellant is wasted in the explosion, but it's impressive to see, with the vents on the Predator II making the distinctive firing all that more memorable.

The first bark lights up your nostrils and you can feel the cordite burning your nose. You don't see a lot of guns using older ammunition like this. The impact slams into the unlucky ganger's stomach, and into the leaning shelf of personal hygiene products, a can of compressed white foam spraying out to his left. You remember something from the commercial about the foam being vegetable-based. It sure stinks like an all-natural product.

A half-second to bring the gun back down, lining up the iron sights- this gun's smartlink isn't wireless, it would take a hell of a patch job to get it to work with your commlink, but it works for a quick and dirty fix like this. The second bark echoes, catching the ganger again in the stomach. An errant can of "Campbell's Soup Products," a proudly owned division of ARES sits on the shelf, and takes the ricochet, exploding into red goo. Some people might call it food, you would call it overpriced.

The ganger crumples to the ground, the hacker is still stirring on the slurry pavement outside, but it's clear that the threat is over. Sundance reaches the woman just in time to help her and her crying baby leave the safety of the store. The man trying to cram himself into the freezer isn't listening to any reason, and... that's about it.

You're on the scene of a very violent crime, one of you literally holding a smoking gun.

As Sundance ushers the girl and her baby out of the store, the girl's hood is pushed back from her hair, exposing a cute brunette bob and slim elven ears. "I just know this was that slot, Mel Cozi!" Sundance shushes her, but makes sure she's on her way with the supplies she came to the Stuffer Shack looking for.

Speaking of- the employees are out, and the bomb trashed the surveillance gear. Even if this place wasn't on the edge of the Aurora Warrens, where no sane corp-sec would show his face here in under an hour- and that's if these kids were lucky. Inside twenty minutes, this place would be cleaned out, ripped to shreds by the scavengers. You should get something, while you're here.


--- Quote from: GM Stuff ---And that, ladies and gentlemen, is Back to the Shack (also known as Food Fight). You have (mostly) survived intact, and we'll tweak your characters and then re-start once a friend of mine joins us, and we'll be off for another helping!

Also, you get 1 karma for surviving Stuffer Shack. Use it in good health.
--- End quote ---

Ruski:
Sylvester continued on in ‘combat mode’ even after the readily apparent ‘threats’ evaporated into so much Denver snow.
As he moves toward his van he glances briefly at the first stirrings of the gang’s hacker, face down in the slush.

”Nice of you to all wear matching patches. Lets me know who to shoot without having to bother playing 20 questions.”
*BAM*BAM*BAM*BAM*

Sylvester’s stirring moral compass continues to swing wildly at the last murder.
Sadly, he had his past experiences with gangs in Seattle to draw upon, and that experience was all bad. Leave one gangster alive, and soon the rest of the clan would reign down hell upon you.
No gangster witnesses = No retaliation.
 
They may eventually be able to piece together what happened here based on their sources inside the local equivalent of law-enforcement. But there was no reason to make that easy.

Sylvester opens his van, slipping on his matching red gloves, and grabbing his Aries Redline out of its docked charging station. 
”There, that should make the rest of the evening go smoother.”

Sylvester moves back into the store. He briefly checks without touching; the four gangsters. Anyone that looks gang-related & still living gets two rounds from the troll-sized gun.  Anyone looking more threatening than a twitch or two, will be receiving a detailed lesson in optic appreciation: care of his laser rifle.

Satisfied that the immediate threats are taken care of, he moves to the chore of ‘clean-up’. Time is always at a premium, but an ounce of prevention saves a gallon of blood.

First off: evidence. Sylvester picks his way to the tool aisle getting a pair of pliers out of the jumbled mess. Moving to the still warm corpses he will pull the crossbow bolts out of the skulls. More than likely they are bent beyond usefulness, but there’s no reason to let the loan-star or errant knight enforcers look at them.

Secondly; The story. Everyone loves a happy ending, with no loose ends.  He needed something that the local paper would want to print.
Luckily: Kinsey had already volunteered for hero duty. Sylvester grabs a 5 gallon bucket of bleach, some boric acid and steel wool from the cleaning aisle. Moving the bucket to the hero’s corpse, he opens it and places it by Kinsey’s right side.
Thumbing the magazine release, Sylvester drops the half-full magazine into the open bucket, turning the weapon over and ejecting the chambered round into the soup afterwards. Taking the weapon in locked-back ready position Sylvester will open the box of acid and drop the caustic powder over the weapon, then placing it into Kinsey’s dead hand, he submerges the entire grim opera into the open bucket. The acid and chlorine would burn like a bitch if Kinsey was still alive to feel it, but he wasn’t; and the melting hand could cover any scrap of DNA Sylvester happened to leave on the weapon.
So: Kinsey fought an entire gang to the death, defending the innocent members of the community. Then, wishing to remain an anonymous hero, he bled out while trying to clean up the crime scene. There was enough truth in that to keep everyone happy, even if the exact order of events was a little off.
Sylvester drops the steel wool sponges in and around the bucket, pocketing the empty box.

Moving back to his original position by the ruined coffee station Sylvester looks for and finds his broken bow string. Would anyone else look for it? Probably not.  Did it need to be here on the off-chance they did? Definitely not.
Once locating the string he will add it to his burn-pocket for later.
On his final trip out of the store he will grab a bag of real  un-ground coffee beans and a hand grinder. He was going to get a good cup of coffee out of this mess if it killed him. And maybe a month supply case of the krill-meals? He would get sick of eating it long before he ran out, but being full and miserable was much better than starving to death in the cold mountain air.

Looking over the parking lot he sees Kinsey’s bike, still hooked up at the pump.
Sylvester walks over, drops the nozzle on the ground, and pushes the treaded bike out of the way. Pulling his own van to the pump he retrieves the nozzle from the snow and slurry and fills up his tank.
”A full belly of petrol for a Hero’s send off. Sounds like a fair enough trade to me. Welcome to Denver Mother-Fragger.”

Sylvester hangs up the nozzle and re-enteres the van.  He cranks up the heater and drops the van into gear, driving carefully into the ever brightening morning. He still had that Pixy job to take care of. It was going to be a long day.

Ingo Monk:
Finally in full VR Eric pulls up a resource list, trying to figure out which nodes are still viable.  He pulls up a camera feed that didn't get knocked out in the blast and notices that everything has quieted down.  He sees the multi-colored woman (as that's what he decides to call her for now) escort the mother and baby out, and the exterminator guy rummaging around.  Figuring it's safe now he logs off cracks the door enough to peer into the shack proper.  He decides to use the back door to exit and head to his RV.

Once safe in his RV he jacks in and logs into the stuffer shack network in full VR.  Not wanting to get involved, he figured the best thing to do would be to remove the evidence that he was there.  He connects to the surveillance system and downloads all records starting from 24 hours prior to his arrival.  "I'll sift through this later... gotta find out if someone is after me..."  He then goes about deleting all surveillance records and cleaning up the logs, making it look like the system hasn't made any recordings in weeks.  Afterwards he manipulates the code to make it look like it's stuck in an endless loop, as an explanation of the recording failure.  He makes sure to revert any prior changes he made (sorry Neil!).

After a final sweep of the system to clear any logs or other records of his presence he logs off.  Sitting up, he rubs his eyes and sits in the "pilot's" seat.  The RV roars to life as he notices the exterminator by the fuel pump.  He waves as he drives off, not knowing if Sly notices him or not. 

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