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[Game On!] Shadowrun 3rd PbP "Celtic Double-Cross"

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Posts

  • ShushnikShushnik regular
    edited April 2010
    I'll have to go looking for a used 3rd edition core rulebook. I'll hit half price books and Uncle Hugo's tonight and let you guys know if I can modify my character to the new ruleset.

    Shushnik on
  • DenadaDenada Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Oh I love Shadowrun so hard. It's been one of my favorite games for a very long time, but I only got to actually play it once. Consider me interested, and working on a character.

    Denada on
  • BeerbabyBeerbaby Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    I couldn't decide on a concept, so I'm going with everything; an orc sorcerer adept on her way to burnout thanks to cyberware.

    Character & background ARE UP!

    EDIT: Character & Background

    Background
    Growing up ork isn't easy, and growing up ork and magical is even more difficult. Her parents were as supportive of her as they could be, being orks themselves, and it is probably only thanks to their efforts that Genevieve's magical talent was even acknowledged. As a child, she was in love with illusions and as soon as she realised she had the gift, she had only one aim - to become a master of illusion renowned across the world.

    Taking a scholarship to a small magical college in Halifax, she achieved moderately successful results and took up a graduate offer from Cross Applied Technologies in Quebec City. They were looking for illusion majors for a pilot project of great value to the organisation; a fantastic opportunity, neh?

    For five years, Genevieve worked as a high-end interrogator for Cross Applied Technologies (CAT) in Quebec City; the person who takes over after some dubious group of Shadowrunners pull off a hostile extraction from a rival corp. Now, the thing is that you don't want to get physical, and you don't want them injured, or in a state where they can't provide you with what you need. A soul-destroying job, but a secure one in a well-paid and demanding role. She loved the corporate lifestyle and would have readily continued her work until retirement.

    A freak accident changed everything. She was engaged in another scenario that was pretty run-of-the-mill; a weapons specialist from Renraku being coerced into revealing details behind the latest laser cannon project. What no-one had counted on was that this fellow had magical potential; potential that erupted in fiery fury when brought to the point of madness by seeing his (illusory) wife and children beaten in front of him. He was killed by CAT Security in short order, but not before Genevieve suffered the brunt of his vengeance.

    After the accident, she was left a wreck. Her left arm was so damaged it had been removed, and deep burns stretched down the entire left hand side of her head and torso. The nature of the burns left out the possibility of magic treatment, and extensive surgery was the only recourse.

    As far as CAT was concerned, Genevieve was essentially done - another burnt-out mage that could maybe get a job in security, no longer capable of working in the high stakes role she'd previously filled. A future of night shifts, watching cameras and waiting for a call was even further from the dream than professional interrogation, and with little fanfare, Genevieve left the organisation to recover at her own pace.

    Having spent the vast majority of her savings on expensive alphaware, she moved to Seattle to have a try at this `Shadowrunning' lark, making an unlikely contact through her work with Mothers of Metahumans; Carla Penfold, a dwarf fixer with extensive corporate contacts. She's pulled a couple of minor jobs, both of which have been among the most dangerous and challenging things she's ever done - and frankly, she is loving the challenge for now. The money though...that needs some work.

    Personality
    When not on the job, Genevieve is friendly and affable; every inch the good corporate citizen, even though she is an orc. She's passionate about illusion magic, and is one of the rare magicians that will usually be happy to show off her skill at request.

    She does feel that she is perceived as a race traitor, and can be very uncomfortable dealing with `working class' metahumans. During her working life she's made frequent and substantial donations to Mothers of Metahumans out of some sort of class guilt.

    When on the job, all of Genevieve's insecurities and niceties get put aside when she has to do something unpleasant, however. Her extensive experience as an interrogator has given her a `game face' that is distinctly merciless, and there are few things that she is not capable of doing if circumstances demand - the edge of a truly professional shadowrunner.

    Appearance:
    Genevieve is not as sturdy as the average ork lady; she does not move with the power and presence that her race is typically noted for, but instead almost seems to excuse her presence by endeavouring not to stand out. Her long, blonde hair is styled in the latest fashion and she dndeavouring to wearing the latest corporate fashions whenever possible. For an orc, Genevieve is near the top of the tree for looks...if corporate girls with tusks are your thing - barring a few scars remaining from her extensive burns, though they are usually covered by a masking spell when appearances matter.


    Sheet
    Lumiere
    Real Name: Genevieve Desmarais
    Status: Orc, Female; 1.91 meters; 88kg, 27 years

    Priorities
    A - Resources (1,000,000)
    B - Sorcerer Adept (Hermetic)
    C - Attributes (24)
    D - Race (Orc)
    E - Skills (27)

    Attributes
    Body - 4
    Quickness - 3
    Strength - 4
    Charisma - 5
    Intelligence - 5
    Willpower - 6

    Reaction - 4
    Essence - 4.04
    Magic - 4 (6)
    Initiative: 1d6+4 (4d6+4)

    Combat Pool - 7
    Spell Pool - 5

    Active Skills
    Sorcery 5
    - Spellcasting 7
    Pistols 3
    - Ares Predator 5
    Etiquette 5
    Interrogation 4
    - Magical Freakout 6
    Biotech 1
    - First Aid 3
    Unarmed Combat - 4

    Languages/Knowledges
    French 5
    English 4
    Japanese 3

    Corporate Fashion 4
    Magic 4
    - Illusion 6
    Microbrews 3
    Mothers Of Metahumans 2
    Quebecois Culture 3
    Yoga 2
    Business Gossip 1

    Spells
    C Stunbolt: 6
    H Healthy Glow: 1
    H Increase Reflexes +3: 2
    H Treat: 6
    I Trid Entertainment: 2
    I Trid Phantasm: 6
    I Physical Mask: 5
    M Levitate: 3

    Cyberware - all Alpha
    Cyberarm, Synthetic
    - Smartlink
    - Fingertip compartment
    Cybereyes
    - Image Link
    - Low-light
    - Flare Compensation
    - Protective Covers
    Datajack
    Telephone
    Subvocal Microphone
    Chipjack


    Gear
    Power Focus (Force 2) - bonded
    Sustaining Focus (Force 2) - bonded (Physical Mask)
    Sustaining Focus (Force 2) - bonded (Increase Reflexes +3)
    10 additional spell points

    Ares Predator
    - internal smartgun
    - silencer
    Normal ammo - 5 clips
    Gel rounds - 3 clips

    Tres Chic clothing x20
    Secure Long Coat (4/2)
    Concealable Holster

    Knowsoft Chip: Medicine (Rating 6)
    Knowsoft Chip: Guns and Ammo (Rating 6)

    Forged Credstick (Rating 6) - Amelie Boucher - Freelance Illusionist

    High lifestyle - 4 months
    DocWagon Super Platinum - 1 year

    Contacts
    Carla Penfold - Fixer & Mothers of Metahuman member
    Alasdair McDonald - Talismonger and fellow illusory entertainment fan


    Starting Cash: 7650/10 = 765 nuyen +3d6*100

    Beerbaby on
  • illgottengainsillgottengains Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Ok I'm just going to field some questions here...

    Other non-offensive spell foci is allowed. ( Healing, Illusion, Detection, a low level power focus, ect )

    For now the only book allowed for character creation is the SRC 3. I may make some other goodies available at a later date but for a group of low level shadowrunners SCR 3 is plenty to get started IMHO.

    illgottengains on
  • DenadaDenada Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Alright, I think I've got The Muscle pretty well covered with Tank, a giant ork with a mean left hook.

    Background
    Ignacious Turk was born to a wealthy human family. Unfortunately for him, that family didn't want any ork blood mixed into their fine and noble lineage. So he ended up on the streets, then in the foster system, and eventually made his way to Seattle. Without much of an education to speak of, Ignacious quickly fell in with a local gang, the Blue Needles. He honed his combat skills there, putting his impressive physical stature to work as their premier muscle.

    Tank (as he became known) has always had an unusual relationship with luck, and as it would happen he was the only one not present when the entire gang was captured and killed in a UCAS drug raid. Not being particularly bright, but having enough savvy to change his life's course, he looked for legitimate work as a body guard. He found that work with June Hagalo, a street doc that ran a semi-legal body shop. After getting to know a few of the shadowrunners that came through Dr. Hagalo's shop, Tank once again decided to change course. He got some work of his own done, saved up enough money to buy a few guns, and set off on his new life as a runner.

    Sheet
    Tank
    Male Ork, Age 22, 2.2m tall, 122.5kg

    Stats A, Skills B, Resources C, Race D, Magic E

    Body - 9(11)
    Quickness - 6
    Strength - 8
    Charisma - 3
    Intelligence - 3
    Willpower - 4
    Essence - 3.5
    Magic - 0

    Reaction - 4
    Init Dice - 1

    Combat Pool - 6

    Active Skills
    Clubs - 4
    Cyber Implant Combat (Hand Blade) - 5(7)
    Heavy Weapons - 4
    Pistols - 6
    Shotguns - 6
    Unarmed Combat - 6
    Athletics - 5
    Gunnery - 3

    Knowledge / Language Skills
    Cybertechnology - 5
    Criminal Organizations - 3
    Gang Identification - 4
    English - 3 (R/W 1)
    Japanese - 1 (R/W 0)

    Cyberware
    Hand Blade (retractable) - (STR+3)L
    Bone Lace (titanium) - (STR+4)M Stun, +2 Body, +1 Impact, +1 Ballistic

    Armor
    Leather Pants (real) - 0/2
    Secure Long Coat - 4/2

    Weapons
    Hand Blade (retractable) - (STR+3)L
    Ares Predator (heavy pistol) - 9M; Short 5, Med 20, Long 40, Ext 60; SA; 15(c)
    Unarmed Attack - (STR+4)M Stun

    Other Gear
    Credstick with 1515 nuyen

    Edit - Hmm, seems like we have a lot of D race submissions. I might work out a human of some sort, just in case.

    Denada on
  • ShushnikShushnik regular
    edited April 2010
    Ok I'm just going to field some questions here...

    Other non-offensive spell foci is allowed. ( Healing, Illusion, Detection, a low level power focus, ect )

    For now the only book allowed for character creation is the SRC 3. I may make some other goodies available at a later date but for a group of low level shadowrunners SCR 3 is plenty to get started IMHO.

    Could you please define low level focus? My original build accounted for a level 3 power focus, which may or may not be considered low level. This would be augmented by my character's complete inability to cast any directly offensive spells (as primarily a healer who is restricted to a non-offensive spellset by his totem) but I'd hate to spend that much force and Nuyen to have customs say no. I also assume that such regulations would be up front for travel, so planning would be possible.

    Shushnik on
  • LockeJawLockeJaw Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    I'm very interested in playing as the team's Decker, but I would need additional information from Ill as far as what Priority B gets me before I BUILD the character. Usually priority A of the Decker build goes to resources that are sunk into an illegal deck and programs - something that would be hard to smuggle through Tir's customs.

    LockeJaw on
    "Always listen to experts. They'll tell you what can't be done, and why. Then do it."- Robert A. Heinlein
  • BeerbabyBeerbaby Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Shushnik wrote: »
    Could you please define low level focus? My original build accounted for a level 3 power focus, which may or may not be considered low level. This would be augmented by my character's complete inability to cast any directly offensive spells (as primarily a healer who is restricted to a non-offensive spellset by his totem) but I'd hate to spend that much force and Nuyen to have customs say no. I also assume that such regulations would be up front for travel, so planning would be possible.

    I'm not the boss, but in the SR3 manual, it mentions that any foci of Force 3 or higher are considered illegal without the appropriate permit (pg. 305). I've taken that to mean Force 1 or 2 is legal and worked on that basis. I dare say if you had a Specific Spell Focus (Heal) at Force 4 or so, the law may be more flexible.

    Beerbaby on
  • JohnnyCacheJohnnyCache Starting Defense Place at the tableRegistered User regular
    edited April 2010
    what martial arts/mellee rules do you want to use? I'm assuming the unvarnished "Unarmed combat" with no offhand min-maxing?

    JohnnyCache on
  • ShushnikShushnik regular
    edited April 2010
    I'm having difficulty finding a 3rd edition rulebook. Still working on it.

    Shushnik on
  • Draw On Holy MightDraw On Holy Might Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Alright, character sheet ready. [strike]Working on background, will get it up soon.[/strike] Everything's done now.

    Background:
    “What’s it like being a Runner?”
    He swirled the glass of wine between nimble fingers, smirking slightly at the question, as if the entire accusation was beneath him.
    “Interesting? Sure.
    Exciting? Of course.
    Dangerous? Always. I would never tarnish my good name with something like that.”

    Alvarion Starnasky.
    Polish and German by descent, though he claims otherwise these days – citing, as his whims decree, esoteric family lines that stretch back to old French, Italian, Spanish, or Greek names. His early life had always been easy, growing up privileged in the rich suburbs around Seattle, taking hard-earned money that his father brought in for granted.
    Hard-earned, blood-stained, corporate money. His father was a private decker, and the nuyen was good for covering up megacorp secrets; even better for digging up others.
    Household servants, personal trainers, and tutors kept him educated, refined, and active. There was no to reason to think at all of the outside as it was beseeched by conflict and unknown terrors from all around.

    When the cranial bomb went off, the harsh reality of the modern world became overwhelmingly apparent to him.
    He was 14 when his father died. He sat there, amidst the gruesome horror that had once been their kitchen, terrified in a way he had never known before. The full scope of his father’s brutal death had not even sunk in before he and his family were being dragged off the property by armed Lone Star agents.
    Foreclosure, they said.
    His mother hung herself in the bathroom of the cheap coffin-job they were staying at.

    Desperate, and alone, scrounging and clawing his way around the slums, he managed to pull out a meager living begging and living in waste. He swore, amidst the filth that marked his new home, on the cold protein bars he lifted from grocery shelves, that he would pull himself back to the top – if he had to do it fighting and screaming the whole way.

    Life on the streets has a certain way of changing your world view.
    Alvarion, though he hated every second of this shit-infested city, became slowly inured to his circumstances. Grifting and stealing, lifting credsticks from the pockets of the local trash that weren’t smart enough to walk faster down the crowded streets, struggling to find a dry place to sleep at night, it all became a routine. He was quick on his feet, quick with his hands, quick with his wit from his education, and he was not short of charm and double speak when it came to getting what he needed.
    He was excellent at getting what he needed.

    Running the shadows offered him a way out.
    Pull a simple job here. Break and enter there. Grab some people. Steal some things. Go back.
    Hope they don’t double-cross you.

    The jobs were not glamorous, but the money was good.

    Now, his days are spent in clothes he cannot afford, in a condo he did not pay for, driving fast cars and even faster women.
    Pretending that things were always this good. That he didn’t just spend half of the month in a cardboard box, on the run.
    Lies. Fine wine, fancy music, flash a few nuyen at the wide-eyes and you get whatever you want.
    Silver-tongued devil.

    Sheet:
    Alistair
    Real Name: Alvarion Starnasky
    Status: Human, Male; 1.82 meters; 79.3 kg, 26 years

    Priorities
    A- Attributes (30)
    B- Magic (Adept)
    C- Resources (90,000)
    D- Skills (30)
    E- Race (Human)

    Attributes
    Body: 6
    Quickness: 6/7
    Strength: 4
    Charisma: 3
    Intelligence: 5
    Willpower: 6

    Essence/Magic: 6
    Reaction: 6
    Initiative: 1d6+6 (2d6+8)
    Combat Pool: 9

    Active Skills
    Whips (monofilament): 5(7) [8(10)]
    Pistols (Ares Predator): 4/6
    Electronics: 4
    Athletics: 5
    Stealth: 5
    Etiquette: 3
    Bike: 2

    Knowledge Skills/Languages
    English: 4 (R/W 2)
    French: 2 (R/W 1)
    Italian: 2 (R/W 1)

    Safehouse Locations: 4
    Black Market Fences: 4
    Megacorporate Shareholders: 4
    Fine Wines: 4
    Magical Theory: 4
    Socialite Culture: 4

    Gear
    Fine Clothing
    Lined Coat (4/2)
    Armored Clothing (3/0)
    Monofilament Whip
    Ares Predator (Internal Smartlink, Smart Goggles + Mirrored Sunglasses, Silencer)
    -Ammunition x60, Spare Clips x3
    Earplug Cell Phone
    Forged Level 5 Credstick
    Yamaha Rapier

    Level 2 Contacts x2
    High Lifestyle, 3 months

    Adept Powers
    Improved Ability (whips): Level 3 (1.5 points)
    Improved Attribute (Quickness): Level 1 (1 point)
    Improved Reflexes: Level 1 (2 points)
    Pain Resistance: Level 3 (1.5 points)

    (not enough for Mystic Armor, too D: )

    Contacts:
    Level 1
    Ranley: "Human, male. Old. Former shadowrunner. Retired now. He’s your typical ex-military drunk – too good at what he did, too knowledgeable for his own good. He’ll get you a fixer or a good street doc, or maybe a trace on where the hot new weapons are going, if you can pry him away from the hookers and booze."

    Black Swan: "Orc, female. Talismonger. Superstitious. Greedy. Power-hungry. Only dealt with her in passing, back when I was still learning the Way. I stop by now and again, but she’s always pushing some new focus on me. They say the fruit she grows on that tree out back isn’t natural, and that it can open your eyes to wonders of the Astral Plane. Try it at your own risk."

    Level 2
    Ionessa: "Elf, female. Stripper, socialite. Beautiful girl, absolutely stunning. Hair like woven sunlight. Eyes like the summer sky. I’ve dropped more nuyen on her than I care to admit, but at least the drinks are free."

    Jorgen: "Dwarf, male. Mechanic. Fixer. Doctor. Rigger. Dirty, lazy, and he never stops eating. Long-standing partner in crime. He’s built like a truck. A tiny, bearded truck, but solid none the less. I keep an eye on him during jobs, or while at the bar, or… anytime, really. His fingers are almost as quick as mine, and I’m not paying that stinking monkey another cent."

    Draw On Holy Might on
  • illgottengainsillgottengains Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    I would like to say thanks to everyone for getting their sheets togetherr so quickly. At first glance everything looks to be in order with them. I'll be plugging the numbers into my NSRCG before game time to make sure everyone is on equal footing.

    Characters submitted thus far. (In no particular order)

    Alistair the Human Whip Adept (Draw on Holy Might)
    Tank the Orkish ork with a gun. (Denada)
    Luminere the Orkish Jill-of-all-trades (BeerBaby)
    BLindside the Dwarven Charismatic Infiltrator. (IAmUnAware)
    Priest the Orkish Gun Adept (Valkun)
    Gabriel the Human Shamanistic Adept [needs to be updated.] (Shushnik)

    Ok fielding more questions... Sorry for the text wall.

    Question "Could you please define low level focus? My original build accounted for a level 3 power focus, which may or may not be considered low level. This would be augmented by my character's complete inability to cast any directly offensive spells (as primarily a healer who is restricted to a non-offensive spellset by his totem) but I'd hate to spend that much force and Nuyen to have customs say no. I also assume that such regulations would be up front for travel, so planning would be possible."

    Answer: "Any foci of Force 3 or higher are considered illegal without the appropriate permit (pg. 305). I've taken that to mean Force 1 or 2 is legal and worked on that basis. I dare say if you had a Specific Spell Focus (Heal) at Force 4 or so, the law may be more flexible."

    Ya, that's pretty accurate. When rolling your characters up you can buy force 1 or 2 foci. If you somehow got your hands on a force 4 SSF (heal) the Tir na Nog customs would probably let you walk with that. The logic being that you are not going to use it to cast hellstorm on all their trees. Now if it were a force 4 SSF (Imp. Invisibility) then they might start asking some questions. I'm not trying to be overly restrictive on the gear your guys can own and use, BUT the elves on the other side of the border will be.

    Question: "What martial arts/melee rules do you want to use? I'm assuming the unvarnished "Unarmed combat" with no offhand min-maxing?"

    Answer: I don't have the book out in front of me at the moment but if memory serves Off-hand min-maxing is not in the SR3 core book. You could however buy your Unarmed Combat 5 (Kung-fu) 7 specialization as per normal.

    illgottengains on
  • JohnnyCacheJohnnyCache Starting Defense Place at the tableRegistered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Unarmed [kungfu] 5 [7]


    I actually was asking because I prefer the simplified rules I think the offhand rules and the extended martial arts are munchkin point sinks

    but if I took a specialization in (name of martial art)

    what does that specialization DO? do I get the extra die when competing in it as a sport or something?

    JohnnyCache on
  • illgottengainsillgottengains Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Unarmed [kungfu] 5 [7]


    I actually was asking because I prefer the simplified rules I think the offhand rules and the extended martial arts are munchkin point sinks

    but if I took a specialization in (name of martial art)

    what does that specialization DO? do I get the extra die when competing in it as a sport or something?

    Basically unarmed [kungfu] 5 [7] means that your dude is a pretty good all around unarmed fighter (5) and that he's gone a bit further and become the drunken master! [7]

    You get 7 dice for making any attack or defense rolls while you are using kung fu. And since kung fu isn't something anyone can really take away from you without locking you up in handcuffs you aren't really looking at any reason not to specialize.

    illgottengains on
  • JohnnyCacheJohnnyCache Starting Defense Place at the tableRegistered User regular
    edited April 2010
    so basically it's an extra die for staying in character? I can deal with this.

    JohnnyCache on
  • LockeJawLockeJaw Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Collin "Morgan" McKinley - Human Decker

    Collin grew up in Cambridge, Massachusetts and recently attended MIT&T. His family's money allowed him to attend school without owing anything to a corp, but he has been on his own for the past few years, running the shadows to live.
    Attributes A
    Decker B
    Resources C
    Skills D
    Race E

    Attributes
    Body 4
    Quickness 6
    Strength 4
    Charisma 4
    Intelligence 6
    Willpower 6
    Essence 5

    Reaction 6
    Combat Pool 9
    Decking Pool 6

    Active Skills 30
    Computer 6
    Computer Build/Repair 4
    Electronics Build/Repair 4
    Pistol 4
    Etiquette 3
    Biotech(First Aid) 1(3)
    Stealth 2
    Athletics 3
    Bike 2

    Knowledge Skills
    English 6
    R/W 3
    Sperethiel 4
    R/W 2
    Gaelic 2
    R/W 1
    Jackpoints (Boston) 4
    Megacorp Research 4
    Datahavens 4
    New England Crime Syndacates 4
    Matrix Topography 4
    Origami 4
    Pirate Lore 3

    Gear
    Datajack
    Smartlink
    Cybereyes
    Thermographic
    Image Link
    Flare Compensation
    Ares Predator w/ internal smartlink
    200 rds Ammo
    2 Spare Clips
    Conc. Holster
    Tres Chic clothing
    Secure Long Coat
    Pocket Secretary
    Survival Knife
    Flash Pack x2
    Survival Kit
    Flare gun/Flares
    Grapple Gun Stealth line, stick
    Harley Davidson Scorpion
    Medkit w/ 1 refill
    Computer Repair Kit
    Electronics Kit
    12 months low lifestyle
    3 month middle lifestyle
    Forged Credstick/SIN rating 4
    Buddy

    Contacts:
    Level 1 Fixer Galen Eckert – Human
    Level 1 Corporate Secretary Jade Kennedy – Human Professional
    Level 2 Martial Arts instructor David Davenport – Human Phys Ad

    Cash: 1100

    LockeJaw on
    "Always listen to experts. They'll tell you what can't be done, and why. Then do it."- Robert A. Heinlein
  • illgottengainsillgottengains Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Sweet we've got our decker, 7 submitted characters, and probably another adept to fill out the 8 player characters suggested for this run. Color me excited.

    I think for a PbP 8 players will be the limit. Deadline for character submission will be 6 pm Sunday 18th! If there proves to be more than 8 players looking to play I will do a random lottery with the limitation that at least one decker and one spellcaster (probably two) make the final cut. All others will be placed on stand-by in the event that I flat-line someone or a player cannot keep up with the pacing.

    EDIT: I'll not be a nazi about the pacing issue but it's the main reason why PbP's die. So, if you want to play, then play. I have a job and real life too, but if you disappear for a week or more without letting us know.. don't be surprised if your dude catches some hot lead or steps on a landmine or gets eaten by a Leviathan.

    EDIT 2: Oh I also wanted to mention that this adventure path is quite unlike ones I've looked at in the past for Shadowrun. The first bit of it is sequential (nothing new there) but after that it becomes very open ended and sandboxie. Much depends on what you do or don't do during these periods so don't be afraid to think outside the box and make moves. The group will be in unknown turf for basically the entire run. Getting a hold of contacts will be tricky, so you will probably want to make one or two along the way. I won't say any more for sake of spoilers, just something to think about as we go into it.

    Edit 3: LOL

    illgottengains on
  • JohnnyCacheJohnnyCache Starting Defense Place at the tableRegistered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Shane "Sawbones" Dempsey

    Once a promising medical student, racism, classism, and his own vices have left him a disgraced shell working for docwagon, and now even that's over...but lots of people need medics and don't care about licensing.
    Current Name Shane Snyder
    Street Name Sawbones
    Real Name Shane Dempsey
    Creator JohnnyC
    Archetype Combat Medic

    Vitals
    Race Ork (D) Height 6'8" cm
    Sex Male Weight 130 kg
    Eyes BL Hair BK
    Birthdate -30
    Birthplace Dublin
    Total Karma 1
    Unspent Karma 1

    Character Notes
    Low Light Vision

    Attributes (B)
    Body 6(7)
    Quickness 6
    Strength 6
    Charisma 2
    Intelligence 5
    Willpower 5
    Essence 4.68
    Run Mult. 3
    Magic 0
    BioIndex 0
    Reaction 5
    Init. Dice 1

    Gear (C)
    Cyberware:
    Bone Lace, Plastic(A) E:0.40 sr3.302|Unarmed = (STR+2)M Stun, +1BOD
    + Eyes, Flare Comp E:0.10 sr3.300|Eliminate glare modifiers
    + Eyes, Vis Mag Ele[3] E:0.10 sr3.300|Undetectable, see pages SR3-110 and SR3-280 for effects
    Smartlink(A) E:0.40 sr3.302|-2 to TNs for firing a Smartlinked weapon
    Datajack(A) E:0.16 sr3.298|
    Knowsoft Link(A) E:0.08 sr3.298|Access headware/datajack knowsofts
    + Ear Dampener(A) E:0.08 sr3.299|Protect against loud/damaging sound
    + Eyes, Prot. Covers(A) E:0.00 sr3.300|Protect eyes

    Credsticks
    Standard/starting 600¥
    X:Forged Credstick[3]/Shane Snyder 600¥
    Credstick Total ==>> 1200¥

    Not Carried Gear Wt
    Ascent/Descent Harness @sr3.295,fof.56 0.25
    Earplug Cell Phone @sr3.287 -
    Ascent/Descent Ki t @sr3.295,fof.56 2
    Rappelling Gloves @sr3.295,fof.56 -
    Permit Browning HP carry and trans @sr3.274 1
    Survival Kit @sr3.295 2
    Permit Ingram SMG carry and trans @sr3.274 1
    Respirator @sr3.295 1
    Pressure Reg. for Respirator @sr3.295 0.5
    Canteen and Mess Kit @sota.75 0.1
    Small Equipment Pouch @sota.75 -
    Load Bearing Harness @sota.75 -
    Pistol Ammo Pouch @sota.75 -
    Rifle Ammo Pouch @sota.75 -
    Large Equipment Pouch @sota.75 -
    [2]Field Rations (Self Heating) @sota.75 0.2
    [3]Basic Medkit @sr3.304 9

    Weapons
    Forearm Snap Blades
    Survival Knife
    Browning Max-Power
    Ingram Smart Gun


    Skills A
    Active
    Negotiation [2]
    Bike [2]
    Car [1]
    Computer [2]
    Etiquette [2]
    Electronics [3]
    Assault Rifles [3]
    Pistols [2]
    Stealth [5]
    Athletics[5]
    Unarmed Combat/Kali/escrima [3/5]
    Throwing Weapons [1]
    Clubs [1]
    Biotech/First Aid [4/6]
    Edged Weapons [6]
    Submachine Guns [6]

    Language

    Gaelic(LAN) [2]
    Gaelic(LAN) (RW) [1]
    English(LAN) [5]
    English(LAN) (RW) [2]

    Knowledge
    Navigation(KNO)/Land [2/4]
    Megacorporate Security(KNO) [1]
    Metahuman Politics(KNO) [1]
    Greater Seattle(KNO) [2]
    Gang Identification(KNO) [1]
    Gang Turf(KNO) [2]
    SWAT Team Tactics(KNO) [1]
    Security Procedures(KNO) [1]
    Security Companies(KNO) [1]
    Biology(KNO) [1]
    Chemistry(KNO) [1]
    Forensic Medicine(KNO) [3]
    Gunsmithing(KNO) [1]
    Medicine(KNO)/Traumatology [2/4]
    Gambling Card Games(KNO) [3]

    Lifestyle
    1 month low

    Contacts
    Julio Haines LoneStar Vice Ork, hispanic, slightly corrupt vice cop / 1
    Carlyle "The Lightbulb" Salvatore Bookie Ork mob bookie. 40s / 1
    Andrea Chang Corp Mage Renraku corp mage, human, mid 20s / 1
    Frankie Malone First Responder Human, athletic, 30s, male, italian / 1
    The Guro Fixer Human, wiry, filipino, 50s
    / 1

    edit: Dang I forgot how many skills you get when you aren't trying to min-max your double spurs or something
    edit2: Dropped the specialization off throwing to get a rank of clubs.

    JohnnyCache on
  • ShushnikShushnik regular
    edited April 2010
    My character is mostly updated to 3rd edition rules. I still have to do the math to make sure I didn't go overbudget, but I had a whole lot left over last time and I doubt I am. I'll crunch the numbers tonight.

    Shushnik on
  • SteelhawkSteelhawk Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    For Your Consideration (Finally!):


    Eric Blackstone
    Street Samurai


    Eric Blackstone, (known on the streets only as Blackstone), was a former operative for Knight Errant. He has spent his entire career in and around the Chicago Containment Zone, fighting off the Insect Spirits. A member of KE Strike Team Bravo, Blackstone’s job was part of a fire team that Knight Errant sent into the CZ to extract important persons, cleanse hives, liaise with people in the know, put down riots and gang wars, and deal with/eliminate various warlords and threats to stability. They also extracted a Shadowrunner team once, and their squad leader was paid handsomely for the job. Not a bad gig, Eric recalls thinking...

    It was not an easy job. Squad members came, and squad members died. Knight Errant did not have an easy job in Bug City. More and more of Eric’s hazard pay went into getting cyberware to make him a better bug hunter. The best of the best is what Knight Errant, and parent company Ares, provided. Smartlink, Bone lacing, dermal armor, reflexes boosted out the ying-yang, spurs that come out of his knuckles like a 20th century comic book character. All of them helped save his life on numerous occasions.

    Eventually, a tactical nuke was unleashed on the main Bug hive and Chi-Town was pretty much considered a write-off. So was Eric. Caught on the edges of the blast clearing out a minor wasp hive on the top of a skyscraper, the resulting explosion burned out Eric’s eyes and blew out his ear drums.

    When he was eventually recovered, Eric was considered “spent” by Knight Errant and released. The obligatory medical work (taken out of his severance, of course) provided Eric with enhanced hearing and custom made cybernetic eyes: A cold, unfeeling, solid black, the unnerving look of a predator. Modeled after a Shark’s eyes and a Shark’s killer instinct Blackstone is a stone cold operative. With nothing left to do, Blackstone turned to a life in the shadows.

    Like so many others who’ve exchanged so much of their meat for metal, Blackstone has a adopted the Way of the Samurai. A strict code of honour is all that separates him from the rest of the trash on the street. And now that he’s on the streets, and as far away from Chicago as he can get, that’s all he has left. That, and his Ares Predator.

    Stats

    Priority:
    A: Attributes
    B: Resources
    C: Skills
    D: Magic
    E: Human


    Attributes(30)
    Body: 6 (9)
    Quickness: 6
    Strength: 5
    Charisma: 4
    Intelligence: 6
    Willpower: 3
    Essence: 6 (.6)
    Magic: 0
    Reaction: 6 (8)

    Active Skills(34)
    Cyber Weapons(Spurs): 4 (6)
    Pistols(Ares Predator): 6 (8)
    Edged Weapons: 3
    SMG: 6
    Athletics: 3
    Stealth: 2
    Etiquette(Street): 2
    Etiquette(Corporate): 2
    Intimidate: 4

    Knowledge Skills(30)
    Chicago Sprawl 5
    Chi-Town Warlords 5
    Insect Spirits 5
    Small Unit Tactics 5
    Corp. Security 5
    Bushido 5

    English 4
    R/W 2
    Japansese 4
    R/W 2
    Military Jargon 1



    Cyberware (All Alphaware)

    Black Cyber Eyes w/ Flare Compensation, Low-Light & Thermographic
    Ear Implants w/ Amplification & Dampening
    Aluminum Bone Lacing
    Retractable Spurs
    Boosted Reflexes 3
    Dermal Armour 2
    Smartlink

    Total Cyber Cost: 329,000
    Total Essence Cost: 5.4


    Gear

    Smart Ares Predator w/ Silencer & Concealable Holster
    HK227S w/ External Smartlink instead of Laser Sight
    Katana


    30 APDS Heavy Pistol rds in 2 clips
    150 std. Heavy Pistol rds in 10 clips
    280 std SMG rds in 10 clips

    2sets Ordinary Clothes
    1set Fine Clothing
    Secure Clothing
    Secure Long Coat

    Earplug Cell Phone
    Pocket Secretary
    Survival Kit
    Nav-Dat GPS

    Docwagon Gold
    2 Medkits
    2 Trauma Patches

    Total Gear Cost: $36,030

    Cash on Credstick: $ 19,970

    Level 1 Contacts:
    - Linda Smythe, Knight Errant Representative, "Ms. Johnson", former lover,
    - Doctor Watson, former KE Medic, turned Street Doc in Chi-Town
    - Jennifer, estranged sister, Upscale Joygirl/Hostess in Chi-Town

    Level 2 Contacts:
    - “Moose” KE Vehicle Rigger, Strike Team Bravo Pilot, Brother-In-Arms

    Steelhawk on
  • JohnnyCacheJohnnyCache Starting Defense Place at the tableRegistered User regular
    edited April 2010

    HAHAHA dude a shadowrun LARP? I can really see this getting a person arrested

    JohnnyCache on
  • ShushnikShushnik regular
    edited April 2010

    HAHAHA dude a shadowrun LARP? I can really see this getting a person arrested

    I have participated in a Shadowrun LARP. I probably shouldn't admit that even among geeks.

    Shushnik on
  • SteelhawkSteelhawk Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    No, you probably shouldn't.

    Its cool, I don't judge you. But please forgive me if I laugh at you. Just a little. :)

    Steelhawk on
  • ShushnikShushnik regular
    edited April 2010
    Steelhawk wrote: »
    No, you probably shouldn't.

    Its cool, I don't judge you. But please forgive me if I laugh at you. Just a little. :)

    Absolutely. I'd do the same. :wink:

    Shushnik on
  • JohnnyCacheJohnnyCache Starting Defense Place at the tableRegistered User regular
    edited April 2010
    I could never do that I look far too plausible. Radio transmission goes out that says, "probable 5150 size 7 number 2 says we're "spoiling the run" advise on tasers free" and next thing you know I'm ending another friday night ridin' the lightning.

    JohnnyCache on
  • JohnnyCacheJohnnyCache Starting Defense Place at the tableRegistered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Background!
    1. Full House

    The game was down to Fat Freddie, Andy the Addict, a green recruit I was technically still training, who we just called Dumbass, and me. I'd just check raised Dumbass from a late seat and he was getting ready to bet when my comlink buzzed.
    My stomach knotted up. 3am and I'm not on duty and someone's calling me? That meant either someone died or it was a loanshark. I looked down at the ID: "Ivan B"
    Great. Too bad nobody died. I hit ignore and put one big green mitt over my cards and peeled them up real careful - the ace and king of spades. The kid had pitched a nice, high, go-away bet - he had a red ace in his hand to match the ace of spades on the table. I'm not sure he even understood what it meant that the 10 he was two-paired with was one of two spades on the table, but I know he didn't know I was two paired to the red king above him. He had second-best, which in poker, is the fraggin' worst. I came back over the top with a bet that put him all-in.
    "I call," he said. My rationale here was right out of my kali training- look weak, make him commit, then cut his ass. I was thinking wholly about poker, totally visualizing my hand and anticipating the kick in the ass from the reveal - when I turn over the cards, scoop up the chips. I've loved that moment, that trickster feeling, since my uncle taught me to play for pennies in third grade. Sure, you learn to love other feelings, too - you learn to love making a guy fold, knowing when to fold yourself, you even learn to love losing a little, but it never compares to when you have the hand and flip it. Ever. Which is what I was one card from doing, when Fat Freddie opened his mouth despite being out of the hand.
    "Hey buh-buh-big guy?" he said, "Did you just hang up on Ivan the Bat?"
    "Yeah, frak him, he can wait till after this hand, why?"
    "Because he's behind you, he's putting his ph-ph-phone in his pocket, and he looks pissed."
    There was a clank at this point. I hit the ground thinking, "This fraggin' new generation, who hits a guy with an aluminum bat?"
    When I came right back off the ground, Ivan got a little tight around the eyes, and spun the bat around his hand. Cheap juggling. The stick guys like that. I'm not a stick guy.
    He swung at my head, trying to put it over the green monster, and the bat clanked off my re-enforced bones again - this time off a clean wing block. I hit him back with a left jab as I unfurled my blocking arm and drew and unfolded a small knife called a kerambit with my other hand.With my index finger in the ring and the knife in an icepick grip, it vanishes into my fist. Like most people, he held onto his weapon when I punched, and this made responding to the jab a clusterfrag, so, trained boxer that he was, he tried to just slip what he took for a low right - and missed the short, matte black hawksbill as it unzipped his guts. He probably wouldn't even have felt it if it hadn't have hooked a dermal plate and pulled it out of position.
    His eyes widened as he felt the cold and pain spreading. I threw a plum around his neck and kneed him as hard as I could in his new opening, and he dropped to his knees and shut down.
    I reached into his jacket and took his gun.
    "Stay the frag where you are for two goddamn minutes, Ivan, and I'll fucking pay you AND stitch that up for free. You're an asshole, by the way, you never frag with a guy's hot streak."
    I turned, kicked the kindling that used to be my chair out of the way, and leaned over the rail, using every inch and pound I had on Fat Freddie.
    "I think we're good, right Fred? None of that hit the table,? And we can just deal the turn?"
    "Yuh-yuh-yeah, Bones, for shu-sure."
    We turned our cards over. The kid saw my higher two pair, my spades, and said, "Good hand."
    I thanked him. Best feeling in the world. Maybe not better than sex, but you can't have sex for 10 hours a night.
    Then that fat sack of dreck throws out the river. I HEAR the little off - rhythm snap, I SEE the tubby bastard smile a little, the kind of micro expression that ruins his bluffs, and I realize he's probably still mad about the beating I layed on him a few weeks ago when I was COLLECTING for Ivan the Bat. He spins the card, neatly, off the bottom of the deck. I know before I look that it's the case ten. I don't even bother looking - I'm looking to see if anybody else heard him throw it off the bottom of the deck. Andy won't make eye contact. Dumbass doesn't even understand why Freddie is pushing every last cent of my rent his way. Three orks in cheap, shiny suits come in the front door fast, and I realized I should have taken Ivan's gun AND his coat.
    I should have brought a bigger knife.
    "Hey Dumbass," I say, "You might as well call the house and get them on their way."
    "Copy, tee-oh," he says. He's already dialing, and while it rings he breaks the thick end off a pool cue off and moves up next to me. I decided to sign his EMT ticket and start remembering his name the next day.

    2. Feces meets ventilator

    "You're pulling my ticket?" I knew this moment from collecting. You see jokers trying to swipe their credstick over and over, getting increasingly "confused" by the red light, protesting that it's all a mistake.
    "This is from on high, Dempsey, it's not me, but if I had any say, I'm not sure I'd use it! In fact, frag your ticket, you're lucky I don't put you in jail." I tried to evaluate if this was bulldrek. The chief was exactly far enough from retirement to frag me over - close enough to see it and want it, but not close enough that he'd get retired before fired if he stood up for me. He hated me, but for legitimate personal reasons, not pinky pride or anything. And I did make the newspaper.
    "Chief, what the frag am I supposed to do here? You pull my ticket, that means I been fired from the star, I've been fired from the wagon, and every damn thing I learned how to do working for the two of them is now illegal for me use to earn. You fire me, I'm wicked fragged."
    "I don't know what you're going to do, asshole, but I'm pretty sure what it won't involve - dragging down the rest of us, like you did with the kid the other night."
    "Oh, yeah, I wanted to mention - he laid out like like, three, four of those fur-hat wearing assholes. Then he concussion-checked them. We should check him off early."
    "WE ain't doing shit with him, but I'll keep that in mind."
    "Jesus chief, you're serious, aren't you?
    "Bones. Shane. Seriously. That russian asshole lost 6 feet of small bowel. And guess what? He's connected. You woulda been better off killing the fragging guy. Now he's breathing down your neck, thinking of you every time he dreks in a bag, and if he pulls some bullshit drive-by or something, guess who pays for your drek? Your brothers in this house, you asshole. And you're fucking hungover all the damn time, beat up all the damn time,"
    "Come on, chief, I train! I'm 10-1! How much money you make betting on me getting beat up?"
    "Whatever. You miss too much work over that bullshit. Then there's the witch you date. You bring some mind-reading, levitating, little frag machine in here? You know how bad it looks having a telepathic employee of another multinational overnight, in your bunk, in this house?
    "Hey, come on, you said yourself, 'her ass is magic, too," and she doesn't give a damn about politics, 'raku gives her no end of shit for being chinese, she's just cashing in for a couple-"
    "Shane, shut up, I'm talking here. There's the small matter of you spending your weekends collecting for not one but two loansharks. Makes you look like a hell of a public servant, you're right on the scene when they call in. Beat'em up, patch em up - Dempsey's Full Service Leg Breaking. What am I supposed to do about that?"
    "Well chief, I don't think Ivan's gonna hire me anymore so that situation is kind of resolving itself."
    I have seriously never seen a human, even in throws of a heart attack, turn quite the color of red the chief turned.
    "Get. Your hoop. Out of this office. NOW."
    I got up to leave. I was about halfway across the garage when he yelled at me from the doorway.
    "Well box your shit and send it to you. You can re-apply for a probationary license in a year."
    The guys that were around packing the ambulances and cleaning their guns cranked their heads from the chief to me like they were watching tennis. .
    "Well, thanks chief, but in a year I think we both know I'll be in fraggin' harbor, don't we?"
    "Well, I guess you better learn to swim, dumbass."
    I usually think of something good to say when I get about a block away, but this time I didn't.

    3. Rubber meets road

    "I can't loan you money, Bones. I got nobody can collect it from you. You've turned into a slow payer. So, I loan you money, I might as well just shoot you on the spot when I do it, right?"
    "Frag, Sal, I got rent, here. I'm trying to work but - "
    "But you got habits. All kinds of action, you're addicted to. And they won't let you do your real job, I know kid. But I can't. It's for your own good. Look at you. You got two black eyes, your shit's in rags, you smell like a hobo, I know those russians are still trackin' you. I've known you since back when, but I don't waste money. I loan you money? I'm wastin' it."
    "Sal, come on, I need this 20."
    "Can't do it, kid. I'll tell you what. I'll give you give twenty five hundred I got on me. I'll GIVE you that, Shane. Square for work you've done, not a loan. I'll make a call, get you a couple days. That's what I can do."
    In the weeks since I'd been fired, I'd learned when to shut up. I took the two-five, thanked the man, and left, thinking about calling my ex-wife and telling her she was right all along.

    4. Light meets tunnel
    My com rang. I fished it out of the empty bottles and answered. A mechanical voice informed me I had 3 minutes of pre-paid time remaining before putting through the call.
    "Talk fast, Frankie." I said.
    "You still doin' nothin?"
    "Barbacking. It sucks. I'm serious, talk faster."
    "You still got a kit?"
    "Yeah, decent one."
    "You still want work?"
    "Yes."
    "You still give a shit if it's legal?"
    "Nope.They need a gun and stitch, I'm their bitch."
    "You sure?"
    "1 minute left on the phone, Frankie"
    "2200, pier 12. Black dwarf named Hazard. He'll be wearin' a dumbass cowboy hat. He'll have the details. Bring a piece, wear your 5-11s. 5 grand"
    "I'm in, thanks"
    "Yeah, no problem I know you'd do the -"
    "You have zero minutes remaining"
    I started packing my shit.

    JohnnyCache on
  • illgottengainsillgottengains Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Ok I'm going to go ahead and close down recruitment. I hate to turn people away so Im going to go ahead and roll with 9 runners. Combat is going to take time, when it happens, be prepared for game time to slow as people post their actions. Those of you still working on your characters feel free to post them in spoilers.

    This thread will be converted into our IC/OOC thread. All OOC should happen in spoilers, that includes dice. For now go ahead and use Orokos.com fo dice rolling.

    Thanks again for getting your dudes together so quick!

    Game on!


    1 Alistair the Human Whip Adept (Draw on Holy Might)
    2 Tank the Orkish ork with a gun. (Denada)
    3 Luminere the Orkish Jill-of-all-trades (BeerBaby)
    4 BLindside the Dwarven Charismatic Infiltrator. (IAmUnAware)
    5 Priest the Orkish Gun Adept (Valkun)
    6 Gabriel the Human Shamanistic Adept [needs to be updated.] (Shushnik)
    7 Eric the Human Street Samurai (Steelhawk)
    8 Sawbones the Orkish battlemedic. (Johnnycache)
    9 Morgan the Human Decker (LockeJaw)
    LoL Johnny, forsome reason I pictured him as a dwarf. Probably the gambling, drinking, and brawling.

    illgottengains on
  • JohnnyCacheJohnnyCache Starting Defense Place at the tableRegistered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Ok I'm going to go ahead and close down recruitment. I hate to turn people away so Im going to go ahead and roll with 9 runners. Combat is going to take time, when it happens, be prepared for game time to slow as people post their actions. Those of you still working on your characters feel free to post them in spoilers.

    This thread will be converted into our IC/OOC thread. All OOC should happen in spoilers, that includes dice. For now go ahead and use Orokos.com fo dice rolling.

    Thanks again for getting your dudes together so quick!

    Game on!


    1 Alistair the Human Whip Adept (Draw on Holy Might)
    2 Tank the Orkish ork with a gun. (Denada)
    3 Luminere the Orkish Jill-of-all-trades (BeerBaby)
    4 BLindside the Dwarven Charismatic Infiltrator. (IAmUnAware)
    5 Priest the Orkish Gun Adept (Valkun)
    6 Gabriel the Human Shamanistic Adept [needs to be updated.] (Shushnik)
    7 Eric the Human Street Samurai (Steelhawk)
    8 Sawbones the Ork battlemedic. (Johnnycache)
    9 Morgan the Human Decker (LockeJaw)

    I'm playin' for the green team, 6'8" is kinda big for a dwarf :mrgreen:

    JohnnyCache on
  • illgottengainsillgottengains Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Somewhere in Seattle. 04.16.2058

    You awake to the sound of your vidphone unit beeping that "you have new messages" beep. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes you pull yourself up to your feet, amble over to the vidphone and queue up the message hoping that the first voice you hear today isn't your landlord reminding you that rent is due.

    Luckily the screen stays black. You know what that means. Then you hear the familiar voice of your shadow fixer.

    "I know biz has been a little rocky lately but something just came down the pipes that I think you'll like. Looks like a cushy job but I don't know the specifics. You've got a meet at 7 pm. The Space Needle. Mr. Johnson has already made reservations. And do me favor... take a shower this time and look presentable for once."

    Time to get your ass in gear.

    illgottengains on
  • JohnnyCacheJohnnyCache Starting Defense Place at the tableRegistered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Somewhere in Seattle. 04.16.2058

    You awake to the sound of your vidphone unit beeping that "you have new messages" beep. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes you pull yourself up to your feet, amble over to the vidphone and queue up the message hoping that the first voice you hear today isn't your landlord reminding you that rent is due.

    Luckily the screen stays black. You know what that means. Then you hear the familiar voice of your shadow fixer.

    "I know biz has been a little rocky lately but something just came down the pipes that I think you'll like. Looks like a cushy job but I don't know the specifics. You've got a meet at 7 pm. The Space Needle. Mr. Johnson has already made reservations. And do me favor... take a shower this time and look presentable for once."

    Time to get your ass in gear.

    I tell him I'll be there and grab the details.

    "I guess I better make some kind of effort," I think to myself. I clean up, throw on black jeans, a slate gray guayabera, lace up the boots, tuck my least obtrusive pistol into a carry holster, throw on my coat and head out. I wanna circle the place a little, so I'll head out early.

    "I'm glad my shitty little loft is already downtown," I think, "Piss-poor time of day to take the 5"

    I think about walking but it's always good to have high-speed evac near by if a meet sours. I put on the smallest legal helmet I could find - I don't care what the regs say, a full face effs up your hearing peripherals, and my bones are higher rated than the helmet anyway. I'll park a few blocks away, get some street food, maybe catch a game or something in one of the bars near by. Just to calibrate my feel for the area before the meet. I should already know the needle and surrounds well enough, but good habits are how you survive the bad ones. I was bored anyway. I fire up my bike and leave.

    JohnnyCache on
  • ValkunValkun Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Re: Cache's Background.
    Background!
    1. Full House

    The game was down to Fat Freddie, Andy the Addict, a green recruit I was technically still training, who we just called Dumbass, and me. I'd just check raised Dumbass from a late seat and he was getting ready to bet when my comlink buzzed.
    My stomach knotted up. 3am and I'm not on duty and someone's calling me? That meant either someone died or it was a loanshark. I looked down at the ID: "Ivan B"
    Great. Too bad nobody died. I hit ignore and put one big green mitt over my cards and peeled them up real careful - the ace and king of spades. The kid had pitched a nice, high, go-away bet - he had a red ace in his hand to match the ace of spades on the table. I'm not sure he even understood what it meant that the 10 he was two-paired with was one of two spades on the table, but I know he didn't know I was two paired to the red king above him. He had second-best, which in poker, is the fraggin' worst. I came back over the top with a bet that put him all-in.
    "I call," he said. My rationale here was right out of my kali training- look weak, make him commit, then cut his ass. I was thinking wholly about poker, totally visualizing my hand and anticipating the kick in the ass from the reveal - when I turn over the cards, scoop up the chips. I've loved that moment, that trickster feeling, since my uncle taught me to play for pennies in third grade. Sure, you learn to love other feelings, too - you learn to love making a guy fold, knowing when to fold yourself, you even learn to love losing a little, but it never compares to when you have the hand and flip it. Ever. Which is what I was one card from doing, when Fat Freddie opened his mouth despite being out of the hand.
    "Hey buh-buh-big guy?" he said, "Did you just hang up on Ivan the Bat?"
    "Yeah, frak him, he can wait till after this hand, why?"
    "Because he's behind you, he's putting his ph-ph-phone in his pocket, and he looks pissed."
    There was a clank at this point. I hit the ground thinking, "This fraggin' new generation, who hits a guy with an aluminum bat?"
    When I came right back off the ground, Ivan got a little tight around the eyes, and spun the bat around his hand. Cheap juggling. The stick guys like that. I'm not a stick guy.
    He swung at my head, trying to put it over the green monster, and the bat clanked off my re-enforced bones again - this time off a clean wing block. I hit him back with a left jab as I unfurled my blocking arm and drew and unfolded a small knife called a kerambit with my other hand.With my index finger in the ring and the knife in an icepick grip, it vanishes into my fist. Like most people, he held onto his weapon when I punched, and this made responding to the jab a clusterfrag, so, trained boxer that he was, he tried to just slip what he took for a low right - and missed the short, matte black hawksbill as it unzipped his guts. He probably wouldn't even have felt it if it hadn't have hooked a dermal plate and pulled it out of position.
    His eyes widened as he felt the cold and pain spreading. I threw a plum around his neck and kneed him as hard as I could in his new opening, and he dropped to his knees and shut down.
    I reached into his jacket and took his gun.
    "Stay the frag where you are for two goddamn minutes, Ivan, and I'll fucking pay you AND stitch that up for free. You're an asshole, by the way, you never frag with a guy's hot streak."
    I turned, kicked the kindling that used to be my chair out of the way, and leaned over the rail, using every inch and pound I had on Fat Freddie.
    "I think we're good, right Fred? None of that hit the table,? And we can just deal the turn?"
    "Yuh-yuh-yeah, Bones, for shu-sure."
    We turned our cards over. The kid saw my higher two pair, my spades, and said, "Good hand."
    I thanked him. Best feeling in the world. Maybe not better than sex, but you can't have sex for 10 hours a night.
    Then that fat sack of dreck throws out the river. I HEAR the little off - rhythm snap, I SEE the tubby bastard smile a little, the kind of micro expression that ruins his bluffs, and I realize he's probably still mad about the beating I layed on him a few weeks ago when I was COLLECTING for Ivan the Bat. He spins the card, neatly, off the bottom of the deck. I know before I look that it's the case ten. I don't even bother looking - I'm looking to see if anybody else heard him throw it off the bottom of the deck. Andy won't make eye contact. Dumbass doesn't even understand why Freddie is pushing every last cent of my rent his way. Three orks in cheap, shiny suits come in the front door fast, and I realized I should have taken Ivan's gun AND his coat.
    I should have brought a bigger knife.
    "Hey Dumbass," I say, "You might as well call the house and get them on their way."
    "Copy, tee-oh," he says. He's already dialing, and while it rings he breaks the thick end off a pool cue off and moves up next to me. I decided to sign his EMT ticket and start remembering his name the next day.

    2. Feces meets ventilator

    "You're pulling my ticket?" I knew this moment from collecting. You see jokers trying to swipe their credstick over and over, getting increasingly "confused" by the red light, protesting that it's all a mistake.
    "This is from on high, Dempsey, it's not me, but if I had any say, I'm not sure I'd use it! In fact, frag your ticket, you're lucky I don't put you in jail." I tried to evaluate if this was bulldrek. The chief was exactly far enough from retirement to frag me over - close enough to see it and want it, but not close enough that he'd get retired before fired if he stood up for me. He hated me, but for legitimate personal reasons, not pinky pride or anything. And I did make the newspaper.
    "Chief, what the frag am I supposed to do here? You pull my ticket, that means I been fired from the star, I've been fired from the wagon, and every damn thing I learned how to do working for the two of them is now illegal for me use to earn. You fire me, I'm wicked fragged."
    "I don't know what you're going to do, asshole, but I'm pretty sure what it won't involve - dragging down the rest of us, like you did with the kid the other night."
    "Oh, yeah, I wanted to mention - he laid out like like, three, four of those fur-hat wearing assholes. Then he concussion-checked them. We should check him off early."
    "WE ain't doing shit with him, but I'll keep that in mind."
    "Jesus chief, you're serious, aren't you?
    "Bones. Shane. Seriously. That russian asshole lost 6 feet of small bowel. And guess what? He's connected. You woulda been better off killing the fragging guy. Now he's breathing down your neck, thinking of you every time he dreks in a bag, and if he pulls some bullshit drive-by or something, guess who pays for your drek? Your brothers in this house, you asshole. And you're fucking hungover all the damn time, beat up all the damn time,"
    "Come on, chief, I train! I'm 10-1! How much money you make betting on me getting beat up?"
    "Whatever. You miss too much work over that bullshit. Then there's the witch you date. You bring some mind-reading, levitating, little frag machine in here? You know how bad it looks having a telepathic employee of another multinational overnight, in your bunk, in this house?
    "Hey, come on, you said yourself, 'her ass is magic, too," and she doesn't give a damn about politics, 'raku gives her no end of shit for being chinese, she's just cashing in for a couple-"
    "Shane, shut up, I'm talking here. There's the small matter of you spending your weekends collecting for not one but two loansharks. Makes you look like a hell of a public servant, you're right on the scene when they call in. Beat'em up, patch em up - Dempsey's Full Service Leg Breaking. What am I supposed to do about that?"
    "Well chief, I don't think Ivan's gonna hire me anymore so that situation is kind of resolving itself."
    I have seriously never seen a human, even in throws of a heart attack, turn quite the color of red the chief turned.
    "Get. Your hoop. Out of this office. NOW."
    I got up to leave. I was about halfway across the garage when he yelled at me from the doorway.
    "Well box your shit and send it to you. You can re-apply for a probationary license in a year."
    The guys that were around packing the ambulances and cleaning their guns cranked their heads from the chief to me like they were watching tennis. .
    "Well, thanks chief, but in a year I think we both know I'll be in fraggin' harbor, don't we?"
    "Well, I guess you better learn to swim, dumbass."
    I usually think of something good to say when I get about a block away, but this time I didn't.

    3. Rubber meets road

    "I can't loan you money, Bones. I got nobody can collect it from you. You've turned into a slow payer. So, I loan you money, I might as well just shoot you on the spot when I do it, right?"
    "Frag, Sal, I got rent, here. I'm trying to work but - "
    "But you got habits. All kinds of action, you're addicted to. And they won't let you do your real job, I know kid. But I can't. It's for your own good. Look at you. You got two black eyes, your shit's in rags, you smell like a hobo, I know those russians are still trackin' you. I've known you since back when, but I don't waste money. I loan you money? I'm wastin' it."
    "Sal, come on, I need this 20."
    "Can't do it, kid. I'll tell you what. I'll give you give twenty five hundred I got on me. I'll GIVE you that, Shane. Square for work you've done, not a loan. I'll make a call, get you a couple days. That's what I can do."
    In the weeks since I'd been fired, I'd learned when to shut up. I took the two-five, thanked the man, and left, thinking about calling my ex-wife and telling her she was right all along.

    4. Light meets tunnel
    My com rang. I fished it out of the empty bottles and answered. A mechanical voice informed me I had 3 minutes of pre-paid time remaining before putting through the call.
    "Talk fast, Frankie." I said.
    "You still doin' nothin?"
    "Barbacking. It sucks. I'm serious, talk faster."
    "You still got a kit?"
    "Yeah, decent one."
    "You still want work?"
    "Yes."
    "You still give a shit if it's legal?"
    "Nope.They need a gun and stitch, I'm their bitch."
    "You sure?"
    "1 minute left on the phone, Frankie"
    "2200, pier 12. Black dwarf named Hazard. He'll be wearin' a dumbass cowboy hat. He'll have the details. Bring a piece, wear your 5-11s. 5 grand"
    "I'm in, thanks"
    "Yeah, no problem I know you'd do the -"
    "You have zero minutes remaining"
    I started packing my shit.

    So, when will your next novel be hitting the shelves?

    Guess I'll finish up my character before heading out. Got a meet with a Johnson about some boardgames.

    Valkun on
  • IAmUnawareIAmUnaware Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Blindside stirs from a fitful sleep, slightly disappointed to find his bed empty. Must be losing my touch. He rolls out of bed and listens to the message on his phone, running his hand over his bald head to make sure he doesn't need to buzz his dome. He snorts at the end of the message. Tell me to look presentable? Who does this fixer think he is?

    He takes his time getting ready, grabbing his armor and the long coat that seems to be required running gear, judging from its ubiquity. He slips on his concealed shoulder holsters and the two pistols he tries never to leave behind and goes down to his building's parking garage, intending to park a block or two away from the meet.
    He stops to check himself one last time in the mirror, then heads out. Let's make some easy cred.

    IAmUnaware on
  • JohnnyCacheJohnnyCache Starting Defense Place at the tableRegistered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Valkun wrote: »
    Re: Cache's Background.
    Background!
    1. Full House

    The game was down to Fat Freddie, Andy the Addict, a green recruit I was technically still training, who we just called Dumbass, and me. I'd just check raised Dumbass from a late seat and he was getting ready to bet when my comlink buzzed.
    My stomach knotted up. 3am and I'm not on duty and someone's calling me? That meant either someone died or it was a loanshark. I looked down at the ID: "Ivan B"
    Great. Too bad nobody died. I hit ignore and put one big green mitt over my cards and peeled them up real careful - the ace and king of spades. The kid had pitched a nice, high, go-away bet - he had a red ace in his hand to match the ace of spades on the table. I'm not sure he even understood what it meant that the 10 he was two-paired with was one of two spades on the table, but I know he didn't know I was two paired to the red king above him. He had second-best, which in poker, is the fraggin' worst. I came back over the top with a bet that put him all-in.
    "I call," he said. My rationale here was right out of my kali training- look weak, make him commit, then cut his ass. I was thinking wholly about poker, totally visualizing my hand and anticipating the kick in the ass from the reveal - when I turn over the cards, scoop up the chips. I've loved that moment, that trickster feeling, since my uncle taught me to play for pennies in third grade. Sure, you learn to love other feelings, too - you learn to love making a guy fold, knowing when to fold yourself, you even learn to love losing a little, but it never compares to when you have the hand and flip it. Ever. Which is what I was one card from doing, when Fat Freddie opened his mouth despite being out of the hand.
    "Hey buh-buh-big guy?" he said, "Did you just hang up on Ivan the Bat?"
    "Yeah, frak him, he can wait till after this hand, why?"
    "Because he's behind you, he's putting his ph-ph-phone in his pocket, and he looks pissed."
    There was a clank at this point. I hit the ground thinking, "This fraggin' new generation, who hits a guy with an aluminum bat?"
    When I came right back off the ground, Ivan got a little tight around the eyes, and spun the bat around his hand. Cheap juggling. The stick guys like that. I'm not a stick guy.
    He swung at my head, trying to put it over the green monster, and the bat clanked off my re-enforced bones again - this time off a clean wing block. I hit him back with a left jab as I unfurled my blocking arm and drew and unfolded a small knife called a kerambit with my other hand.With my index finger in the ring and the knife in an icepick grip, it vanishes into my fist. Like most people, he held onto his weapon when I punched, and this made responding to the jab a clusterfrag, so, trained boxer that he was, he tried to just slip what he took for a low right - and missed the short, matte black hawksbill as it unzipped his guts. He probably wouldn't even have felt it if it hadn't have hooked a dermal plate and pulled it out of position.
    His eyes widened as he felt the cold and pain spreading. I threw a plum around his neck and kneed him as hard as I could in his new opening, and he dropped to his knees and shut down.
    I reached into his jacket and took his gun.
    "Stay the frag where you are for two goddamn minutes, Ivan, and I'll fucking pay you AND stitch that up for free. You're an asshole, by the way, you never frag with a guy's hot streak."
    I turned, kicked the kindling that used to be my chair out of the way, and leaned over the rail, using every inch and pound I had on Fat Freddie.
    "I think we're good, right Fred? None of that hit the table,? And we can just deal the turn?"
    "Yuh-yuh-yeah, Bones, for shu-sure."
    We turned our cards over. The kid saw my higher two pair, my spades, and said, "Good hand."
    I thanked him. Best feeling in the world. Maybe not better than sex, but you can't have sex for 10 hours a night.
    Then that fat sack of dreck throws out the river. I HEAR the little off - rhythm snap, I SEE the tubby bastard smile a little, the kind of micro expression that ruins his bluffs, and I realize he's probably still mad about the beating I layed on him a few weeks ago when I was COLLECTING for Ivan the Bat. He spins the card, neatly, off the bottom of the deck. I know before I look that it's the case ten. I don't even bother looking - I'm looking to see if anybody else heard him throw it off the bottom of the deck. Andy won't make eye contact. Dumbass doesn't even understand why Freddie is pushing every last cent of my rent his way. Three orks in cheap, shiny suits come in the front door fast, and I realized I should have taken Ivan's gun AND his coat.
    I should have brought a bigger knife.
    "Hey Dumbass," I say, "You might as well call the house and get them on their way."
    "Copy, tee-oh," he says. He's already dialing, and while it rings he breaks the thick end off a pool cue off and moves up next to me. I decided to sign his EMT ticket and start remembering his name the next day.

    2. Feces meets ventilator

    "You're pulling my ticket?" I knew this moment from collecting. You see jokers trying to swipe their credstick over and over, getting increasingly "confused" by the red light, protesting that it's all a mistake.
    "This is from on high, Dempsey, it's not me, but if I had any say, I'm not sure I'd use it! In fact, frag your ticket, you're lucky I don't put you in jail." I tried to evaluate if this was bulldrek. The chief was exactly far enough from retirement to frag me over - close enough to see it and want it, but not close enough that he'd get retired before fired if he stood up for me. He hated me, but for legitimate personal reasons, not pinky pride or anything. And I did make the newspaper.
    "Chief, what the frag am I supposed to do here? You pull my ticket, that means I been fired from the star, I've been fired from the wagon, and every damn thing I learned how to do working for the two of them is now illegal for me use to earn. You fire me, I'm wicked fragged."
    "I don't know what you're going to do, asshole, but I'm pretty sure what it won't involve - dragging down the rest of us, like you did with the kid the other night."
    "Oh, yeah, I wanted to mention - he laid out like like, three, four of those fur-hat wearing assholes. Then he concussion-checked them. We should check him off early."
    "WE ain't doing shit with him, but I'll keep that in mind."
    "Jesus chief, you're serious, aren't you?
    "Bones. Shane. Seriously. That russian asshole lost 6 feet of small bowel. And guess what? He's connected. You woulda been better off killing the fragging guy. Now he's breathing down your neck, thinking of you every time he dreks in a bag, and if he pulls some bullshit drive-by or something, guess who pays for your drek? Your brothers in this house, you asshole. And you're fucking hungover all the damn time, beat up all the damn time,"
    "Come on, chief, I train! I'm 10-1! How much money you make betting on me getting beat up?"
    "Whatever. You miss too much work over that bullshit. Then there's the witch you date. You bring some mind-reading, levitating, little frag machine in here? You know how bad it looks having a telepathic employee of another multinational overnight, in your bunk, in this house?
    "Hey, come on, you said yourself, 'her ass is magic, too," and she doesn't give a damn about politics, 'raku gives her no end of shit for being chinese, she's just cashing in for a couple-"
    "Shane, shut up, I'm talking here. There's the small matter of you spending your weekends collecting for not one but two loansharks. Makes you look like a hell of a public servant, you're right on the scene when they call in. Beat'em up, patch em up - Dempsey's Full Service Leg Breaking. What am I supposed to do about that?"
    "Well chief, I don't think Ivan's gonna hire me anymore so that situation is kind of resolving itself."
    I have seriously never seen a human, even in throws of a heart attack, turn quite the color of red the chief turned.
    "Get. Your hoop. Out of this office. NOW."
    I got up to leave. I was about halfway across the garage when he yelled at me from the doorway.
    "Well box your shit and send it to you. You can re-apply for a probationary license in a year."
    The guys that were around packing the ambulances and cleaning their guns cranked their heads from the chief to me like they were watching tennis. .
    "Well, thanks chief, but in a year I think we both know I'll be in fraggin' harbor, don't we?"
    "Well, I guess you better learn to swim, dumbass."
    I usually think of something good to say when I get about a block away, but this time I didn't.

    3. Rubber meets road

    "I can't loan you money, Bones. I got nobody can collect it from you. You've turned into a slow payer. So, I loan you money, I might as well just shoot you on the spot when I do it, right?"
    "Frag, Sal, I got rent, here. I'm trying to work but - "
    "But you got habits. All kinds of action, you're addicted to. And they won't let you do your real job, I know kid. But I can't. It's for your own good. Look at you. You got two black eyes, your shit's in rags, you smell like a hobo, I know those russians are still trackin' you. I've known you since back when, but I don't waste money. I loan you money? I'm wastin' it."
    "Sal, come on, I need this 20."
    "Can't do it, kid. I'll tell you what. I'll give you give twenty five hundred I got on me. I'll GIVE you that, Shane. Square for work you've done, not a loan. I'll make a call, get you a couple days. That's what I can do."
    In the weeks since I'd been fired, I'd learned when to shut up. I took the two-five, thanked the man, and left, thinking about calling my ex-wife and telling her she was right all along.

    4. Light meets tunnel
    My com rang. I fished it out of the empty bottles and answered. A mechanical voice informed me I had 3 minutes of pre-paid time remaining before putting through the call.
    "Talk fast, Frankie." I said.
    "You still doin' nothin?"
    "Barbacking. It sucks. I'm serious, talk faster."
    "You still got a kit?"
    "Yeah, decent one."
    "You still want work?"
    "Yes."
    "You still give a shit if it's legal?"
    "Nope.They need a gun and stitch, I'm their bitch."
    "You sure?"
    "1 minute left on the phone, Frankie"
    "2200, pier 12. Black dwarf named Hazard. He'll be wearin' a dumbass cowboy hat. He'll have the details. Bring a piece, wear your 5-11s. 5 grand"
    "I'm in, thanks"
    "Yeah, no problem I know you'd do the -"
    "You have zero minutes remaining"
    I started packing my shit.

    So, when will your next novel be hitting the shelves?

    Guess I'll finish up my character before heading out. Got a meet with a Johnson about some boardgames.

    Hopefully sooner rather than later. Did you like it or were you just alluding to the length

    JohnnyCache on
  • ValkunValkun Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Benjamin "Cross" Lucas Character Sheet
    Background:
    Old enough to have once been human, Ben Lucas once had a life that might have been called normal. Joining the service shortly after graduating from high school, he retired after serving a tour overseas and moved to Seattle to start a new life. A wife, a home in the suburbs, and a young daughter whom he doted upon. However, the neighbors who had at one time shared in summer barbeques, Christmas caroling, and watching games on the trideo suddenly turned cold when he was affected by the change. It wasn't long before the avoidance and odd stares became threatening calls and open heckling. One night, he returned home from work to find his home a blazing inferno. Although he rushed inside, it was too late. His wife and child were locked in the bathroom, their bodies barely recognizable at that point.

    Filled with impotent rage, he had little recourse but to turn to the escape of the bottle. For months he stayed in an inebriated state, only his orkish constitution saving him from blood alcohol levels that would have easily killed a normal man. One day, while laying in an alley, unaware of how he had gotten there, the sound of children's laughter filtered into his ringing ears. He watched them for what seemed like days, the boys and girls that had no one but each other and their kindly caretakers. There was still work left for him to do, throwing away the bottle he had been nursing, Ben joined the Catholic priesthood.

    Assigned to an orphanage in Seattle, Father Lucas assists in guiding those who had been abandoned. Over the years, the number of children grew but the donations and funding they received from the church steadily shrank. He watched silently as the children had to make due with a leaking roof, old rags, and the bare minimum of nutrition. His desperate calls to the higher ups eventually lead to their need for a certain sort of favor, one that would provide great rewards in exchange. As long as he knew how to keep his lips sealed. And so he descended into the shadows.

    Character Stats
    Priority:
    A - Attributes 30
    B - Adept
    C - Skills 34
    D - Ork
    E - Resources 5,000¥

    Attributes:
    BOD 5+3 (8)
    QUI 7 (7)
    STR 4+2 (6)
    CHA 6-1 (5)
    INT 4-1 (3)
    WIL 5 (5)

    ESS 6
    MAG 6
    REA 5
    Combat Pool = (7+3+5)/2+2=9 Dice
    Initiative 5+1d6(7+2d6)
    Karma 1

    Active Skills:
    Athletics 4
    Pistols 6
    Shotguns 6
    Stealth 4
    Etiquette 5
    Interrogation 4
    Intimidation 4
    Car 1

    Knowledge Skills:
    Catholic Theology (Academic) 5 (7 Points)
    UCAS Military Customs, Courtesies, and Procedures (Sixth World Knowledge) 2
    Beers and Spirits (Interests) 1
    Seattle Mafia (Street) 1
    Child Psychology (Academic) 2
    Paranormal Animals (Sixth World) 1

    Language Skills
    English 3, R/W 1
    Latin 2, R/W 1

    Adept Powers:
    Improved Reflexes LVL 1 - 2 PP - +2 REA, +1 Initiative Die
    Combat Sense LVL 2 - 2 PP - +2 Combat Pool, 1/2 Combat Pool useable on REA Test during Surprise
    Improved Physical Ability (Quickness) 1 - 1 PP - Increase natural attribute by 1 point.
    Enhanced Perception 1 - .5 PP - +1 die for perception tests.
    Improved Sense (Flare Compensation, Sound Dampening) - .5 PP - Functions like cybernetic flare compensation and dampener.

    Equipment:
    Ares Predator x 2 5 Conceal, 15(c), SA, 9M, 450x2=900¥
    +Regular Ammo x 90 = 180¥
    +Clips x 4 = 20¥
    +Concealable Holster x 2 = 200¥
    Shortbarrel Defiance T-250 6 Conceal, 5(m), SA, 9S(f)/9M, 500¥
    +Regular (Slugs) x 20 = 40¥
    +Fletchette (Shot) x 10 = 100¥
    +EX Explosive Rounds x 10 = 100¥
    +Gel Rounds x 10 = 30¥
    Smoke (IR) Grenades x 2 = 80¥
    Lined Coat = 700¥
    Ordinary Clothing = 50¥
    Earplug Cellphone = 100¥
    Low Lifestyle (2 Months) = 2,000¥
    5000/5000¥

    Starting Nuyen:
    1,000¥

    Contacts:
    Father Ryan McReynolds (Level 1): A fixer, although one with a strange day job. Often arranges work with the Mafia or certain church related business.

    Jimmy Stelone (Level 1): Formerly an orphan under Lucas's care, but one that never did find a family to call his own. After leaving the orphanage, he managed to find legal work as a low ranking paper pusher for Lonestar and makes a little extra on the side selling inside info.

    Question regarding Shotgun:
    You said we shouldn't expect to bring anything larger than a pistol along with us. But the shortbarrel shotgun has the concealment value of a pistol. Think I could smuggle it past customs too?

    Re:Re:Re: Cache's Background.
    Background!
    Hopefully sooner rather than later. Did you like it or were you just alluding to the length
    Your writing fills me with shame at my own inadequacy. But I guess I can let it slide if you really are a professional.

    Valkun on
  • JohnnyCacheJohnnyCache Starting Defense Place at the tableRegistered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Valkun wrote: »
    Benjamin "Cross" Lucas Character Sheet
    Background:
    Old enough to have once been human, Ben Lucas once had a life that might have been called normal. Joining the service shortly after graduating from high school, he retired after serving a tour overseas and moved to Seattle to start a new life. A wife, a home in the suburbs, and a young daughter whom he doted upon. However, the neighbors who had at one time shared in summer barbeques, Christmas caroling, and watching games on the trideo suddenly turned cold when he was affected by the change. It wasn't long before the avoidance and odd stares became threatening calls and open heckling. One night, he returned home from work to find his home a blazing inferno. Although he rushed inside, it was too late. His wife and child were locked in the bathroom, their bodies barely recognizable at that point.

    Filled with impotent rage, he had little recourse but to turn to the escape of the bottle. For months he stayed in an inebriated state, only his orkish constitution saving him from blood alcohol levels that would have easily killed a normal man. One day, while laying in an alley, unaware of how he had gotten there, the sound of children's laughter filtered into his ringing ears. He watched them for what seemed like days, the boys and girls that had no one but each other and their kindly caretakers. There was still work left for him to do, throwing away the bottle he had been nursing, Ben joined the Catholic priesthood.

    Assigned to an orphanage in Seattle, Father Lucas assists in guiding those who had been abandoned. Over the years, the number of children grew but the donations and funding they received from the church steadily shrank. He watched silently as the children had to make due with a leaking roof, old rags, and the bare minimum of nutrition. His desperate calls to the higher ups eventually lead to their need for a certain sort of favor, one that would provide great rewards in exchange. As long as he knew how to keep his lips sealed. And so he descended into the shadows.

    Character Stats
    Priority:
    A - Attributes 30
    B - Adept
    C - Skills 34
    D - Ork
    E - Resources 5,000¥

    Attributes:
    BOD 5+3 (8)
    QUI 7 (7)
    STR 4+2 (6)
    CHA 6-1 (5)
    INT 4-1 (3)
    WIL 5 (5)

    ESS 6
    MAG 6
    REA 5
    Combat Pool = (7+3+5)/2+2=9 Dice
    Initiative 5+1d6(7+2d6)
    Karma 1

    Active Skills:
    Athletics 4
    Pistols 6
    Shotguns 6
    Stealth 4
    Etiquette 5
    Interrogation 4
    Intimidation 4
    Car 1

    Knowledge Skills:
    Catholic Theology (Academic) 5 (7 Points)
    UCAS Military Customs, Courtesies, and Procedures (Sixth World Knowledge) 2
    Beers and Spirits (Interests) 1
    Seattle Mafia (Street) 1
    Child Psychology (Academic) 2
    Paranormal Animals (Sixth World) 1

    Language Skills
    English 3, R/W 1
    Latin 2, R/W 1

    Adept Powers:
    Improved Reflexes LVL 1 - 2 PP - +2 REA, +1 Initiative Die
    Combat Sense LVL 2 - 2 PP - +2 Combat Pool, 1/2 Combat Pool useable on REA Test during Surprise
    Improved Physical Ability (Quickness) 1 - 1 PP - Increase natural attribute by 1 point.
    Enhanced Perception 1 - .5 PP - +1 die for perception tests.
    Improved Sense (Flare Compensation, Sound Dampening) - .5 PP - Functions like cybernetic flare compensation and dampener.

    Equipment:
    Ares Predator x 2 5 Conceal, 15(c), SA, 9M, 450x2=900¥
    +Regular Ammo x 90 = 180¥
    +Clips x 4 = 20¥
    +Concealable Holster x 2 = 200¥
    Shortbarrel Defiance T-250 6 Conceal, 5(m), SA, 9S(f)/9M, 500¥
    +Regular (Slugs) x 20 = 40¥
    +Fletchette (Shot) x 10 = 100¥
    +EX Explosive Rounds x 10 = 100¥
    +Gel Rounds x 10 = 30¥
    Smoke (IR) Grenades x 2 = 80¥
    Lined Coat = 700¥
    Ordinary Clothing = 50¥
    Earplug Cellphone = 100¥
    Low Lifestyle (2 Months) = 2,000¥
    5000/5000¥

    Starting Nuyen:
    1,000¥

    Contacts:
    Father Ryan McReynolds (Level 1): A fixer, although one with a strange day job. Often arranges work with the Mafia or certain church related business.

    Jimmy Stelone (Level 1): Formerly an orphan under Lucas's care, but one that never did find a family to call his own. After leaving the orphanage, he managed to find legal work as a low ranking paper pusher for Lonestar and makes a little extra on the side selling inside info.

    Question regarding Shotgun:
    You said we shouldn't expect to bring anything larger than a pistol along with us. But the shortbarrel shotgun has the concealment value of a pistol. Think I could smuggle it past customs too?

    Re:Re:Re: Cache's Background.
    Background!
    Hopefully sooner rather than later. Did you like it or were you just alluding to the length
    Your writing fills me with shame at my own inadequacy. But I guess I can let it slide if you really are a professional.

    I'm not one yet but thanks, bruh.

    JohnnyCache on
  • SteelhawkSteelhawk Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    Blackstone grunts and rouses himself fully. Sitting up in bed, he cracks his head hard against the top of the coffin. "Frag me, I hate these things!"

    Swinging his legs over the side, he drops out of the coffin, landing three tiers down with a thud far louder than a man of his size should be. Eric was not a small man, bulging with the muscles of lifelong ass-kicker. The aluminum laced skeleton and dermal armor make him much heavier than he should be. Swiftly taking care of the 3 S's, he dons his securetech armor clothing and long coat, stuffing his slept in clothes and other effects into his dufflebag. Checking his gear, he decides to leave the Heckler & Koch broken down and packed away in his kit. His beloved Ares Predator is automatically stashed in its concealable holster at the small of his back. The silencer is also stashed away, making the smartgun just that bit easier to hide.

    Not that Blackstone had anything to hide from. It took a year to recover from his injuries in Chicago, another year to settle all of his affairs and make his break from Knight Errant. Since he'd hit the shadows of Seattle, its been very dissapointing. He hasn't done much more than run packages across town, hopefully this would be something he could sink his teeth into. Lone Star had no clue who he was. He might have even used his real identity, his real SIN, to get better accomodations. But thats not how the shadows work.

    Slipping on a pair of badass shades Blackstone shouldered his duffelbag, holding everything he owned, and walked out into the night.

    Steelhawk on
  • ValkunValkun Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    With a long, restful stretch, Ben queues the machine to play as he stares idly out the window. It's still too early in the morning for the children to be at play at the orphanage across the street. The run down playground seems somehow especially desolate with only the wind to sway the swings.

    Pensively, he scans the room, resting his eyes upon the wooden cross hanging from the wall and the half drunken bottles of synthetic liquor resting upon the dresser. Times had been tough recently, just barely enough money to keep the place going, but just barely.

    Ignoring the gnawing at his own stomach, he reaches for the long black, bullet proof cassock and slips it over his shoulders. Opening the top drawer, he shoves aside some mismatched socks to grab a pair of Ares Predators. Checking their clips, he slips them into the concealed holsters under his arms and buttons up.

    Forgive me Father, for I am about to sin once again.

    Picking up the white collar of his faith, he slips it in place around his neck, tucking the silver cross that dangles from his neck inside.

    O my God, I am heartily sorry for having to offend thee and I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell, but most of all because they offend thee, my God, who are all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of thy grace, to confess my sins, to do penance, and to amend my life. But I cannot forsake these children, Lord. Take them in my place, for I shall know evil so that they may remain pure and good.

    He scans the spartan room once more before donning his ear phone, shades, and a wide brimmed hat and walking out into the morning light. What new hell would this night bring?

    Amen.

    Valkun on
  • DenadaDenada Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    "I know biz has been a little rocky lately but something just came down the pipes that I think you'll like..."

    "I think I'd like anything at this point bub," Tank says to the vidphone, aware that it's a recording, but talking to it anyway. He taps the flickering light over the bathroom sink, another habit. The light had been broken since he moved in.

    "...don't know the specifics. You've got a meet at 7 pm. The Space Needle. Mr. Johnson has already made reservations. And do me favor... take a shower this time and look presentable for once."

    He looks at the shower, looks at his face in the mirror, then looks at the little pink kitty-clock he found in the neighbor's trash. Six-fifteen. "Well, shit."

    Tank stuffs his gun in the back of his pants, reminding himself for the twentieth time to buy a holster, throws on his coat, and starts walking. "Maybe it'll rain."

    Denada on
  • ShushnikShushnik regular
    edited April 2010
    "De spirits, dey find you no matter how far you go, non?"

    A slow smile relaxes onto Gabriel's face as he assembles the cooking oil and dough for beignets. It's good to do more than read auras and deal cards. A run will be a very welcome change.

    After attaching his laser sight and strapping his Browning in the small of his back, Gabriel checks the serpent scales, stylized skulls, and small bones hanging from tassles attached to his belt and clothing. Two extra clips, pocket secretary, portable credstick reader, small gris gris, and armor jacket in place, Gabriel heads down to the garage and straddles his Suzuki Aurora.

    "6:45, ya damn fool, ya make too much dodo. Best be quick."

    Shushnik on
  • illgottengainsillgottengains Registered User regular
    edited April 2010
    About the highly concealable shutgun... Basically it's like this: the only reason you are getting pistols across the boarder is because your employer is a very powerful person and has obtained licenses for them. You aren't sneaking them on board an international flight. You can try to sneak the shotgun though if you like but it's unlikely that the guards and the metal detectors both will miss any weapons at all.

    EDIT:
    I'm going to let everyone chime in with an opening post but after that I will probably not wait for a full cycle before rolling scenes forward. It all depends on what's going on.

    illgottengains on
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