Official Tensided Cyperpunk RPG Campaign

[CorSec]

"Such a pity dura will not be joining us three gentlemen, eh? Well then, let's all get comfortable. Since you'll be driving," he nods to Dirk, "and you'll be taking the back," he nods to Blaine, "I guess this means I once again have shotgun," he finishes with a grin.

Though the grin was supposed to convey mirth or humor, on the big Russian's face it looked decidedly out of place. Not perhaps because the Russian wasn't used to smiling, maybe because he was used to smiling when someone was on the business end of his machinery. Or maybe it was Blaine's over active imagination putting conotation where it didn't belong. Mikal didn't seem angry, in fact it felt like he was telling a joke. One which neither Blaine nor Dirk were a part of. But then, Blaine realised the double entendre. Shotgun. Ha! Yeah. Shotgun. Blaine cracked a half smile to congratulate himself on "getting it".

"Do not mind Ernesto, he has some difficulty interacting in large groups. That's what happens when you are trained as he was. Very good in isolation, not so good in groups much larger than two, and women count double. He'll warm up eventually, assuming we have not all grown as cold as corpses in the meantime," he turns directly towards Dirk, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. "I am curious, however, the new arrivals...what is it you said to one of them, 'stay out of my head'?"

Content to sit quietly, Blaine listens politely as the Russian makes small talk. Though his accent is thick, it's not so bad as to make it impossible to listen to him.

"A telepath, I take it? Pfeh...how annoying."

"Tell me about it," Blaine blurts out. "I lost an entire day from one mucking inside my head. Cost me my job and everything." He pauses a moment before continuing, "I guess that's how I came to be here."

He didn't mean to inturrupt Mikal or anything. If he was willing to engage in chit-chat, then Blaine could try to hold up his end of the bargain.

[Gerard_Paloma]

"Such a pity dura will not be joining us three gentlemen, eh? Well then, let's all get comfortable. Since you'll be driving," he nods to Dirk, "and you'll be taking the back," he nods to Blaine, "I guess this means I once again have shotgun," he finishes with a grin.

"Right. That's pretty punny," he adds with an exaggerated wink, followed by another half grin.

"Do not mind Ernesto, he has some difficulty interacting in large groups. That's what happens when you are trained as he was. Very good in isolation, not so good in groups much larger than two, and women count double. He'll warm up eventually, assuming we have not all grown as cold as corpses in the meantime," he turns directly towards Dirk, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

"If he stays on his toes, there shouldn't be a problem. I mean, Jesus, these assholes looked like they didn't even get a chance to fire," he says as they walk past the four goons blown away by Ernesto.

"I am curious, however, the new arrivals...what is it you said to one of them, 'stay out of my head'?" "A telepath, I take it? Pfeh...how annoying."

Dirk climbs in the idling van, and guns the engine. "You have no idea." He waits for the Bel Air to leave, then begins following it closely. Dirk goes into a sort of "auto-pilot" mode, and his eyes gloss over slightly.

"In WW3, my unit was stationed in south-western Japan, near Hiroshima. It was still about a year before the Chinese surrendered. Our Sarge was a real asshole, stuck-up prick. Scrawny mother fucker, too, don't know how he made it through basic training. So me and a couple other guys thought it would be funny to make him piss himself in the middle of the night, teach his stuffy ass a lesson. But when it came time to actually do it, they all pussed out, and I ending up going it alone.

"So he wakes up the next morning, hand in a bowl of water, piss all over himself, and starts screaming like a banshee. He calls us all out and demands to know who did it, and one of the fucking pussies ratted me out. Sarge walked over and busted me in the face with the butt of his rifle, and I went out like a light. And then I don't know what happened, except for what I was told later. That sonofa bitch made me...well, he made me do a lot of shit. Fucking cocksucker. My buddy Santos told me all about it. I immediately got up, walked into Sarge's hooch, and blew his fucking head off. .45 right between the eyes, and his head split like a watermelon."

Dirk takes a deep breath, and comes "back".

"So Mr. Telepath was real fucking lucky I was in a good fucking mood. I have a very low tolerance for people fucking with my head."

[Marcao]

Ernesto

He watched as the Bel-Air started on its journey and then began to be followed by the van that Mikal had appropriated. He hit the gas, accelerating into the street and following the van at a respectable distance. All the while, the boisterous sound of Cuban salsa spread through the inside of his van. The sounds reminded him of home, allthough there was no sort of home sickness. No, he had left Cuba and he doubted he would return to it for anything less than the burial of his mother. Until then, he would have to squeeze all that he could from the so called “land of opportunity.”

[CorSec]

"So Mr. Telepath was real fucking lucky I was in a good fucking mood. I have a very low tolerance for people fucking with my head."

Blaine waits a moment to see if the Russian will say anything. As much as he'd rather just let it drop, Blaine is haunted by not knowing who the man is. "Did either of you recognize him? Like he's a celebrity or maybe been in the news or something?"

[Alyrium Denryle]

"Not exactly friendly toward telepahs are they?" Ben said to Joseph... "So, why are the corporates after you? Same reason they want my head?"

[Hotfoot]

"My first encounter with a telepath was when I was fifteen. My little sister had not come back home for several days, so I went out looking for her. Eventually I had discovered what had happened. One of the local gangs had a member who was just beginning to hone his telepathic powers, and had "convinced" my sister to stay with him and his buddies for a while. They took turns raping her for those several days, physically as well as mentally. That night I crept my way in to their hideout and caught them by surprise. The normal ones I tied up and left for later, after I had dealt with their little friend. The telepath awoke in a very uncomfortable position, with me standing over him. He tried and he tried to wriggle free, he even begged me to let him live after he found that I was much harder to influence than a scared little girl."

"It took him five days to finally die, while his entire entourage watched in puddles of their own filth, dehydrated and hungry. I told them that I would let them go once they had learned their lesson. I lied. When they died, I took their bodies and the body of their little friend and left them as a warning to all the others. My sister was never the same. Three years later she took her own life as a direct result of the event," he shrugs, "such is life."

"No, I'm afraid I don't recognize that telepath, but I will certainly remember his face for the future. I have one general rule for telepaths, telepathy is fine. Talk to me, whatever. Implant anything, a sensation, a suggestion, and I implant a bullet in your skull in return."

[CorSec]

It'd be easy to hate all telepaths because of all the stories about the bad ones. That's silly and stupid. I may as well hate someone because of the color of their skin if I'm going to hate an entire group for something.

"Well, shit, fellas! Didn't you hear what I said? I lost an entire day. A day, fer chrissakes!" Blaine feigns indignance at being one-upped so soundly. For effect, he even uses a obviously fake southern accent. Blaine lets out a breath before saying "Sorry. Those are shit things for anyone to go through." He shrugs to punctuate his feelings.

[Arthur_Tuxedo]

"Hey, how's it shakin'?" Stavis greets the new female passenger as he looks her up and down. "Been a rough night, eh?"

Stacey at first looks stand-offish before she looks Stavis up and down, and then smiles ever so slightly with a coy grin. "You have no idea."

[Arthur_Tuxedo]

"Not exactly friendly toward telepahs are they?" Ben said to Joseph... "So, why are the corporates after you? Same reason they want my head?"

"Well, I don't know why they're after you. You never exactly kept in touch, you know," He doesn't take his eyes off the road as he speaks, "it's because I finally decided to take a stand. I had taken enough of being an instrument of death and oppresion. I was tired of having to look in the mirror every night and tell myself I was just doing my job, and didn't know that what I was researching was being used for ill." He sighs, "I was just fed up."

[Marcao]

Ernesto

He continued to follow the van at a discrete distance, his head turning from side to side as he made sure to take in the sights that New York City had to offer. In comparison to the inconsequential town he had been raised in and the backward cities of Cuba, it was in many ways still a jewel. Of course, the United States had been a world power once and Cuba had never amounted to much. Well, that was not true. If things had gone a bit more badly, things would have gone far more differently. If Kennedy had chosen to invade instead of blockade his nation, Cuba would have the distinction of having heralded the end of civilization. He smiled at that, deriving a bit of pleasure at the idea.

The pleasure lasted for only a moment, for the reality remained that his nation was still as poor as ever, and while the embargo that the United States had placed upon it had eventually ended, that event had occurred purely for the corporations benefit. The conflicts in the city were blatant and remarkably unfair. The inequality between areas was as clear cut as color lines. The city was segregated into the safe, clean and sterile corporate controlled areas and the slums that was reserved for everyone else. A segregation enforced by the peace of the gun. The average corporate security force was well armed, well equipped and most importantly of all well trained. You did not try and make trouble in a corporate zone unless you were very good or insane, and perhaps a bit of both.

They eventually hit a familiar set of streets and when they came to a momentary stop, he took the time to look around. Oh, of course. His favorite whore house was three and half blocks south west from here. He had also done one of his first jobs not too far from here. He chuckled softly, the sound drowned out by the boisterous sound of salsa. It had been the job that had led to the whore house in the first place. The light turned green and he accelerated after the van once more. The radio going quiet for a moment before one of Celia Cruz’s hits began to play. Ah, this was his kind of music.

[Alyrium Denryle]

"Not exactly friendly toward telepahs are they?" Ben said to Joseph... "So, why are the corporates after you? Same reason they want my head?"

"Well, I don't know why they're after you. You never exactly kept in touch, you know," He doesn't take his eyes off the road as he speaks, "it's because I finally decided to take a stand. I had taken enough of being an instrument of death and oppresion. I was tired of having to look in the mirror every night and tell myself I was just doing my job, and didn't know that what I was researching was being used for ill." He sighs, "I was just fed up."

"Same here. They wanted me to violate Doctor Patient confidentality, and give them the information from my scans of a patient." He grimaces at the thought of what he was about to say"They wanted me, to violate the trust a patient puts in me, and basially hand him over to them. You know me Joseph, you know that, while I may use my abilities to defend myself, or in defense of somene else, or MAYBE to alter someones attitude, or get them to feel better. It was why I was such a good therapist... But I cant go and betray a patient. So I refused. Then they labeled mea traitor, stripped me of my liscence, and 5 minutes after I left my apartment... they torched it... Along wth everything I had eer worked for in my entire life. Then I ound out that there was a pharmaceutical company that was making ESP Suppressant drugs, that would be forced on telepaths who did not cooperate with Corporate wishes. So, I went in, found a security guard to open the doors... He just so happens to be in that van over there, set some explosives, and left... suppressing his memory of the events afterward. Now I have to make it up to him somehow..." Ben was obviously distressed at hw hypocritical he had become. He was doing his best to fight the corporations, and the corrupt government, but no matter how he justified it, he still couldnt get over stealing a day of some innocent mans life....

[Utsanomiko]

Stavis shrugs. "Well, mine's been a bit rough, but at least I've been productive." He puts his hands on his pistol and shoulder holster and pulls its near-empty clip out.

"Oi, yeah, gotten a very nice collection of goods tonight..." he trails off while sliding the two .22lr rounds out of the magazine. He pockets the items, pulls a fresh magazine out of a different pocket, and slaps that into his Neos.

((I don't recall actually bothering to check how many rounds are in the other pistols. I'll have Stavis do that now if possible))

[Arthur_Tuxedo]

Stavis: The other pistols have full mags.

Everyone:

The convoy arrives at the site of an abandoned, bombed out military base. The only structure left intact is an unimportant underground bunker, restored to operation. The outward appearance of the main elevator would blend in to the rest of the destroyed and worn out buildings until an observor noticed how strange it is that such a piece of machinery would still work after all these years of neglect.

Once the troupe descends into the bunker, they see that this HQ is hardly a model of sophistication. The handful of researchers huddled around a laptop connected to a robotic arm is an underwhelming site for someone expecting more from the brains of a hive of anti-corporate resistance.

The ex-security guards are more impressive, with shiny high tech armor and gadgets, and no doubt with more technology under their skin, invisible to the naked eye.

A curious Japense man is huddled over some sort of briefcase-contained explosive device. He smiles as he places the finishing touches. A man standing behind him in overalls with dirty hands beams widely. "This will knock their communications gear into next Tuesday," he remarks as he carries this copy of Yuuki's personal EMP bomb off into the makeshift armory.

Everyone seems to be too busy to really notice the new arrivals.

[Alyrium Denryle]

Lennox looks around...

"Well, at least cops wont break down the door..."

[Utsanomiko]

Stavis just follows the group, looking around at his surroundings.

[CorSec]

Blaine looks around taking in the sights, sounds and - yes - odors of the underground HQ. "You work out of here!?" Blaine guffaws loudly. "You're braver than I thought," he finishes quietly and to no one in particular.

Never one for guided tours Blaine preferred being free to explore new places on his own, even if it meant missing out on important details. Though he wanted to explore all of the new nooks and crannies that no doubt existed, he erred on the side of caution and stayed with the group.

((Spot check! What can I see that you haven't told us about?))

[Symmetry]

"And maybe some sensors too. Probably not their cars and cyberware like back in the good old days, though." He turned to face the new arrivals. "Who are our new friends Stacy?"

Blaine looks around taking in the sights, sounds and - yes - odors of the underground HQ. "You work out of here!?" Blaine guffaws loudly. "You're braver than I thought," he finishes quietly and to no one in particular.

"Don't worry, this little piggy's bunker won't fall so easily when the big bad wolf blows on it."

Never one for guided tours Blaine preferred being free to explore new places on his own, even if it meant missing out on important details. Though he wanted to explore all of the new nooks and crannies that no doubt existed, he erred on the side of caution and stayed with the group.

As he left Yuuki shouted "Don't wander out of the lighted area big guy! We've got some 'presents' scattered around."

Yuuki assumed this was some new help, but Two hard-assed proffesionals, a bad ass, and three... no, someone whose been in a few scrapes, a street hood, and maybe a researcher of some sort. Where did they find these people? He wasn't exactly standard himself, though, and most of them looked like they could fight well. Two of them even looked like decent human beings.

The moment they had contacted him for this he knew he was going to say yes, even if he remembered to pretend to negotiate. Going from eating boiled potatos to living the (comparitivly) good life while getting a chance to stick it to the Evil Empire wasn't an offer he had been able to resist.[/i]

((Rember that Stacy will probably be refering to me as Thomas))

[Gerard_Paloma]

Dirk takes in the surroundings, neither impressed nor depressed by what he sees. He takes his introduction upon himself.

"My name's Dirk. You got any grenades around here? I've only got one that I took from an asshole who didn't need it anymore."

He double checks his weapon to make sure it's loaded, and discovers that, yes, the BAR has a full clip. "So do we have any idea when they're coming? Or is it a surprise?"

[Alyrium Denryle]

Lennox looked at the asian guy that was looking at the group...

"A bit concerned I take it... Dont worry, I cant shoot for shit, but I have other talents"

[Marcao]

Ernesto

His attention was firmly split between the road before him and the Spanish lyrics which the radio was sharing with him. It did not take a great deal for him to make sure to stay a respectable distance from the van, and the Spanish songs were rekindling his memories of the past. When was the last time that he had heard Celia sing? It had not been that long, but for the moment he found himself remembering days past. More importantly, he remembered the days back in his island nation before he had chosen the path that he had. He was not sure why it happened or how, he just found himself going along with the voice in the radio. The voice of the once lovely Celia Cruz.

”Lo que es bueno hoy
Quizas no lo sea mañana
He ahi el valor del momento
He ahi el presente perfecto”

His voice had never been meant for singing, but he was alone and for the moment he indulged himself in a moment that had not surfaced since the loss of his sister in the outskirts of villa clara. His eyes caught sight that they had taken an off-ramp somewhere and where now in a distinctly familiar part of town. His head darted about, catching sight of the apparently abandoned military base. His mind whispering that they just may have arrived, even as his lips continued to sing along with the radio.

”La oportunidad te llega
Tu veras si te montas en ella
Agarrate fuerte y no te sueltes”

The vehicles in the convoy slowed and within seconds, they were descending down into the bowels of the base. His head turning to look around his surroundings, taking notice of the obvious. It was not what he had expected, but he had lived in worse from time to time. He was not in here expecting a MS state-of-the-art facility. As long as the pay was right, he would camp in an outhouse for seven days. The security people seemed to know their way around however, and that pleased him. His mind concentrating on possibilities, even as his lips continued to recite the song.

”Rie y llora
Que a cada cual le llega su hora
Rie y llora
Vive tu vida y gozala toda

Todo es tan relativo
No es que recuerde, sino que no olvido
Eso es el perdon
Recordar sin dolor
Agarrate fuerte y ya no te sueltes”

His body began to sway slightly from side to side, his fingers tapping a familiar beat on the steering wheel. He waited for a few more seconds before he unbuckled his seat belt, reached for his bag and secured his G36 within it before reaching out back for Mikal’s own bag. He had packed in his usual “end of the world” manner, but he was more than capable of carrying both bags. He pulled Mikal’s bag to the front, opening the driver side door for a moment and sharing his salsa with anyone gifted enough to possess boosted hearing. It was only then, as he prepared to leave his vehicle that he realized that he was still trying to sing along with Celia. His eyes closing in realization for a moment before he reached for the radio and turned it off. A second later, he was turning around and exiting his vehicle. His left hand holding his bag, while his right held Mikal’s.

His eyes slid about, noticing the reactions of his other would be “allies”. The truth was that he was only looking forward to dealing with Dirk, for the man seemed competent enough. He did seem to have an attitude problem, but that was none of his concern. He could deal with greed, and Dirk by virtue of being a professional was in some ways more predictable than some of the others. Dirk could kill and that was good, others simply seemed to be bodies he could use to position between himself and Mikal. Better them than us, such was life. His eyes slid towards Blaine for a moment as he spoke, his exchange with the other man noted, heard and appreciated. He had seen far worse, but that was not his concern. At the moment, he wanted to acquire his PSG-1 and get together with the people that could do something and plan out what sort of defense they should use. Now that he had a sniper rifle, he was itching to use it…

[Arthur_Tuxedo]

Everyone's conversations are cut short as a man with a walkie-talkie listens to a short sentence with a grim look on his face and then pulls a lever, causing an alarm to blare and red lights to flash. The researchers and engineers scramble for safety as the soldiers get ready for one hell of a battle.

[Utsanomiko]

Stavis runs for cover, something preferably far away from the entrance doors and inconspicuous.

[Alyrium Denryle]

Dr. Lennox finds a place of relative safety(cover) that would allow him to see and affect the enemy.

[Symmetry]

Yuuki runs to the small pile of stuff he left in a corner when he arrived. He takes his TMP and his grenade belt, which he struggles into as he gets into his planned postion. He gives directions on where people should go, given the layout of the bunker, if nobody else is doing it and if people aren't finding a good place by themselves. He's pretty sure the cold-eyed-three can look after themselves quite well, but the others probably haven't ever been in a fight involving more than three or four people.

[Marcao]

Ernesto

The static hiss of a walkie-talkie stood out in the backdrop that was his current surroundings and at that moment, his mind was immediately aware that this may be note-worthy. As such he used his augmentations to good effect. He did not hear the short sentence, but he caught enough of it to know that it was bad news. His head turning to the right, using the zoom feature of his eyes to notice the grim look on the face of the man. The party was about to start, and he had not even gotten to hold the sniper rifle that Mikal had all but promised him. The lever was pulled, the alarm making itself known and the red lights transforming the almost peaceful surroundings into a carnival of activity. The sheep scrambled for safety as the wolves began to prepare. He was a wolf, not a sheep and he knew what he had to do.

He immediately moved towards Mikal, dropping his bag of stuff before him with a nod as he muttered beneath his breath. “looks like the party is not about to wait for us.” His tone was dry and he did not stick around to see Mikal’s reaction. He moved past him, opening the back of the van in which he had ridden on and pocketing the PSG-1 that Mikal had already implied was his. Possession was nine tenths of the law, and he wanted this sniper rifle. He darted about, trying to see what kind of ammunition was available for it and picking up as many AP rounds as he could. If there were no AP rounds he would settle for EFMJ. He did not want to use standard ammo in this fight, considering that if the attackers had any brains at all they would be wearing armor. After making sure to pick up a significant amount of ammo for his PSG-1 he exited the back of the van and opened up his carry bag. His G36 was removed once more, all the ammo he had for it secured to his person. He worked quickly, sliding the rifle into a sling so that he could put it into his back if worse came to worse. He did the same thing to the PSG-1, pocketing a few more of the grenades he had brought over before. Finally, he secured his helmet over his head. Reminding himself that all it would take was one stray bullet, to make him ooze brain matter and twitch like a decapitated chicken.

Even though he was more or less prepared now, he still had to find a spot to stash his carry bag in relative safety. The idea of placing his goods in any one of the vehicles was not terribly appealing. Vehicles were cover, and cover attracted fire. The last thing he wanted was to lose his carry bag to a grenade or RPG. In the end, he settled for hiding it behind some boxes on the south-western corner of the room. There were some technological trinkets nearby and the whole area did not seem to be a priority. He would hate to lose his MP7, extra clothing and small rations he had brought. However, the best way to make sure his things were safe was to make sure that all the hostiles died before they got to this place. Ideally, even if they were overrun, the hiding spot he had chosen would evade detection for a while. After he had secured his carry bag, his eyes darted about looking for the best possible cover. He secured the PSG-1 to his back, his G36 in his hands as he snapped in a fresh new magazine and made a note to remember that the magazine he had taken out still had nineteen bullets.

He sprinted towards a nearby soldier and after securing cover for himself, watched him closely as he spoke. “I got a PSG-1 and a G36, do you have any ideas where I will be of most use?” There was no shame in asking for the soldier’s thoughts. The soldier had lived here for a prolonged period of time, and knew the area far better than he did. Ideally, he would have taken an hour or so to scout the bunker and formulate a plan of attack. Sadly, the MS strike team had other plans. Now, he had to worry about his survival first and foremost as well as the mission. It would do him little to be alive, if he was not getting paid. It was time to earn his keep and add another line to his resume.