[hr] [@Izurich] [b]SatoCorp VIP Lounge, June 12th 2177, 21:50[/b], tick... tock... tick... tock... said the clock on the wall, pretending to be analogue. tick... tock... [i]bing[/i]! said the elevator's display as it reached the lounge. tick... tock... [b]BANG![/b] said the lounge's doors as they were blasted outwards, spreading a thick particle-laden cloud of smoke throughout the fake wood and leather-clad space. The air started to vibrate with the unmistakable whining whirrs of six buzz-drones' rotors. They wasted no time in diving straight towards Lenneth, their electric saws at the ready. Out of the elevator emerged a tactical drone as big as Lenneth herself. And in the blink of an eye -if Lenneth had the need to blink, that is- a glass panel to her left became transparent again as its bulletproof state was disengaged and instantly shattered as a hypersonic round whistled through the floor. A sniper, in another building? The attack was impeccably timed, she'd have to give them that... [hr] [@AwesomeZero5] [b]Somewhere Above The Conga Exchange Nightclub, June 12th 2177, 16:20[/b], tick... tock... Mr. Rizzo gave some of his signature side-eye as he drew his piece, and quickly swallowed his curses as he was pushed back into his seat when Kit hit the accelerator. "Reminder: Please obey the traffic regulations" the car helpfully reminded as it swerved in and out of traffic. They were lucky the less-than-savory parts of town has most of the infrastructure modded not to automatically alert the authorities on their conduct. As they sped ahead amidst cars tooting horns and its passengers gesturing their displeasure, another hovercyclist popped up to entrap them in a pincer maneuver. Rizzo grunted. "Well, Mr. Big Mouth, let's see that famous flexibility of yours get us out of this one, then...", as the hovercyclist fired a wired harpoon straight at them. [hr] [@Eviledd1984] [b]Capsule Hotel T11H38X, June 12th 2177, 16:45[/b], tick... tock... "Bro, that's like, some aristocrat shit or something. What kind of ring was it? Can I see it?" The room -if you could call the capsule that- smelled of a cheap synthetic foodpaste. Seated in it, wearing a strange cobbled-together headset, was one of the lankiest people Ben knew, even amongst the more virtually-inclined residents of the city. You don't always have the pick of the litter for your contacts, but Benji had a varied set of hobbies (read: cryptic obsessions), and was always up for an interesting challenge (read: a tit-for-tat). "Tsk." He moaned at the rough drawing of the symbol Mary had given Ben. "You and your old-fashionz, Zebrowski. Couldn't've have given me a 3D scan or something? This' gonna make it even harder to trace, eye witness testimony'z notoriously unreliable, you know: a line or two can be the difference between a royal bloodline, cult, or counterfeit..." A deep and exaggerated vocal sigh finished his theatrics, and Ben knew that it was now his turn in the haggling game: Benji was fishing for money, favors, but details most of all. That was the thing (and possibly the [i]best[/i] thing) about him: the most successful way to buy his expertise was simply to pique his interest. [hr] [@KazAlkemi] [b]Sprocket's Scraphouse, June 12th 2177, 15:32[/b], tick... tock... The bounty's coordinates were close enough -always lucky when you don't have to spend half your bounty-timer on travel. Sprocket's was a typical pick-up-and-go shop: a hollow cube some standardized [i]length[/i] x [i]width[/i] x [i]height[/i] meters that could be slot into most of Neon-York's modular architecture. The place was filled with stacks and racks, and piled high with scrap and components, recycled implants, the usual software ads, even some rusty pre-war cyberlimbs. A couple of banged up MicroFabs tied the whole place together, probably modded to manufacture all your less-than-savory needs. An impressive stock for sure, but nothing that stood out to Zain as warranting the bounty on Sprocket's head. There seemed to be nothing extravagant when it came to security either. The entrance had some tripwire sensors rigged to standard anti-burglary tech. A couple of spider-like securitycams followed him wherever he went. The counter was surrounded with (presumably) weapons-proof plastics. And behind it was someone whirring about with a multi-tool, punctuated with some good old-fashioned hammering and cursing in a language Zain couldn't place. A small-ish middle-aged woman, tatted-to-the-max, perked up at the sight of him. "Well well well, if it ain't a valued customer, what can I do for ya? Want some caffee, mister?" she said, dapping away her forehead sweat. "I only serve it [i]black[/i] here, f-y-i..." [hr] [@Expendable] [b]Safehouse, June 13th 2177, 03:31[/b], tick... tock... Dex couldn't help but wince a little at the answer, and signalled the sudden commotion to calm. The girl had waited patiently after awakening, as if on standby for instructions. And when she finally answered, the daunting task of their whole operation became apparent. It's nothing they hadn't expected. They had simulated the operation of the Brain before, but its goal had eluded the NYSF to this day. They hoped the biological nature of this 'Brain', imperfect and chaotic, could have leaked some critical information between its 'cells'. But it seemed each one only had the most basic details on their goals, indeed, of their own sub-tasks, and even then it was hashed to hell and back. Abstract file designations. Alphanumericals. Percentages. Frag it all. "Niner, huh? You've been through something most people can't even imagine. The Brain was exploiting your brain as a computer, and now you're back in the real world again. I understand, it must be disorienting. We had to pull you out because if we hadn't, there wouldn't be anything left of 'you' to save." Her blank stares ennerved him. How do you reach someone whose mind doesn't even register her own trauma? But maybe, just maybe, there was a way, the tiniest of seed. "I have a task for you, Niner." Dex said as he pulled up a sleek device. "I need you to access this terminal. There’s a file in there holding what little of your personal credentials and memories we were able to recover. It’s encrypted, and all yours to unlock." He paused. "Do you think you can do that?" [hr] [color=918b8a][b]GM Actions and Prompts:[/b] [list] [*] [@Izurich]: Tactical Drone uses Stunt: Creates Advantage: Smoke Grenade (2 free invokes for enemies, 1 used), -1 FP from GM pool; Sniper-Controller Attacks Sneakily (roll Defend against 2); Group of Buzz-Drones Attacks Quickly (roll Defend against 1). Lenneth's Action Budget for this round: 3. (see Tabletop section in OOC) [*] [@AwesomeZero5]: Blackstar Chaser Attacks Quickly (roll Defend against 3), you may choose to engage in conflict or to try and overcome 2 challenges instead (your narrative choice as to what they represent during the chase) at Difficulty 0 and 2, also feel free to control Rizzo as if he were your character/using your own stats. Kit's Action Budget for this round: 3. (see Tabletop section in OOC) [*] [@Eviledd1984]: roll for 2 challenges, Difficulties: 0 (haggle with Benji) and 2 (what the investigation yields, defined by the Shift between roll and difficulty, consult the Ladder for interpretation). [*] [@KazAlkemi]: roll for 2 challenges (your narrative choice as to what they are for in your interaction with Sprocket), Difficulty: 0 and 2. [*] [@Expendable]: roll for 2 challenges, Difficulties: 0 (hack the terminal) and 2 (what memories you can recover, defined by the Shift between roll and difficulty, consult the Ladder for interpretation). [/list][/color] [hr]