Gisk

OBLIVION

Let me be clear everyone, this is a job for Jack specifically. She will be the bane of Billy's love life.

OBLIVION

@nodogs
I'm gonna tell you right now to do it any and every time you have the opportunity.

Relief, Houston - A High Tech Low Life Cyberpunk Story

Well if you want to move away from weeb stuff, they can pretty easily be converted away from there. Honestly, all you'd need to do is change the name and take out the katanas and we're already there.

EDIT: hell, this takes place in Texas, we can have them have a hard on for old school guns instead.

OBLIVION

@Aeolian

Thats precisely what I meant, lol. Luckily it was a bunch of closeted teens with no guts.

We'll see how it goes in present day.

Relief, Houston - A High Tech Low Life Cyberpunk Story

I may be interested!

And regardless of whether I join or not, I have some lore to offer. I wrote this for another game, but never got to use it, so I thought I'd posit it here.

Ronin

Transient street samurai, somewhat inspired by the Nomads in Cyberpunk 2077. They disdain both corporations and the rule of law, both of which they view as irredeemably corrupt. This obviously is not an uncommon attitude even amongst ordinary citizens. The Ronin set themselves apart with exactly how far they're willing to take their refusal to participate.

It is exceptionally rare for a Ronin to own land or property. More commonly they will squat in old buildings, or take up residence in out of the way places. They do not make use of banks for any reason whatsoever, to do so would be grounds for ostracization by any and all Ronin who still keep to their code. They sometimes carry cash out of necessity, but are known for being strangely careless with it; either they will lose it, or even just give it away when their need has ended.

They will only purchase anything from what they dub "Individuals," an ill defined term with nearly as many interpretations as there are Ronin. As a result, any corporate owned establishment(and many privately owned ones) will bar them from entry, under the assumption that they intend to steal. This is not an unfounded expectation.

Their survival depends on two abilities that corporations have discouraged in the general populace. The first is the knowledge of how to grow(and very occasionally hunt for) food. Ronin maintain secret gardens all over the world, and guard them jealously. Very few people outside of this group are even aware of the practice. And to this day not a single person has entered a Ronin garden and lived to tell about it.

The second ability is the repair and creation of their own equipment. Ronin can be spotted easily by their garb and gear. Everything they own is out of date, off-brand, or just plain homemade. They can be distinguished from your garden variety pauper by the cleanliness and good repair that they keep everything in. Gear is expertly repaired, their vehicles(though absurdly old in most cases) run like new, or even better sometimes. Their clothes are patched or darned artfully, often improving the look rather than detracting from it.
They also remove all brand logos or iconography from anything they own. It is not enough to cover or hide it, it must be cut away.

The Ronin have one of the few ongoing blade making traditions. Inspired of course by Japanese sword making, it is updated and improved with modern metallurgy. A Ronin sword looks much like a traditional katana(or wakazashi, tanto etc), though occasionally with some odd quirks in the color of the metal, or the construction of the hilt, owing to their penchant for using scavenged and recycled materials. Though their swords are unmarked(per the Ronin Code) most Ronin can spot one of their own swords by style, and may even recognize the smith who made it.

As far as more modern weapons are concerned, there are some gunsmiths among them, but it is more common for Ronin to carry antique fire arms(with logos and serial numbers filed off).

No single group, no matter how well organized(and the truth is that the Ronin are barely organized at all) can produce everything that they need. As mentioned, they will use money when necessary, but greatly prefer to barter in goods and services.

Goods and services

Any given Ronin only knows so much, and won't be able to offer everything, but if one is polite(and not already known to be an enemy) they will usually try to find someone who can offer what you need.

Rice wine, typically made from rice they cultivate in their hidden gardens. It is generally considered to be quite good.

Good, real vegetables. It is actually quite rare that they will offer this, as they rely heavily on it for survival(they generally refuse to eat food produced by corporations), but if a crop produces a particularly good surplus, or if the need is great enough, it does happen sometimes.

Repair of just about anything.

Medical services(either home remedies or stolen medications).

If you are a true friend to the Ronin, they might offer a sword, but this is a great honor and quite rare. Generally speaking they try very hard to keep their swords out of outsider hands.

There are many clans within the larger Ronin community, and some(including the FBI) liken them to an alliance of gangs. The truth is that a clan is much more akin to an extended family, and while most Ronin are at least technically a criminal of some sort, few of them do more than petty civil disobedience, or just being a general nuisance.

Ronin will accept those who shun the corporate lifestyle, and as a result there are some Ronin from all walks of life. However, most are born into their clan. A born Ronin and a convert can often be easily distinguished as those born to their clan will only receive cybernetics from a Ronin ripperdoc.

Ronin cybernetics are simple and sturdy. They don't interface with any other computers as they use a wholly unique operating system not seen outside of the clans.

Ronin's Code

[notes made in brackets are observations and interpretations by Ronin elder Jin Corso]

First, we must never engage in the buying and selling of money. Neither borrowing nor lending.
Second, we exchange currency for nothing, except from Individuals.[there are some who ignore the second clause and never utilize money, but this isn't feasible for most, and the exception exists for a reason]
Third, we must not wear or hold the marks of those who created the things we use. Nor should we mark those things that we make with our own hands. [no one should hold ownership over a thing except the one who keeps and maintains it]
Fourth, we must not take from the Individual. [an "Individual" is one who acts only for themselves(excepting to help family, friends, or community), and so the property of a corporation is free to take and use as one pleases, provided they follow The Third when doing so]
Fifth, we must endeavor to cause as little harm to Individuals as we can.

Slang terms for the Ronin include "sword bum" and "rino." The latter being a portmanteau of rice and wino, a reference to the rice wine they commonly sell.

There are some Ronin who are militant even to the point of terrorist action, but the vast majority are more akin to strange, orthodox monks.

OBLIVION

@The Man Emperor

Do you think Trystan ever spread any rumors, or else talked shit in his friend group about Billy?

OBLIVION

That fixed it, thanks folks.

I did have to move the hider out of the formatting, as it seemed to break when I left it there.

I guess I could have just removed the hiders, but it’s just copied from the old thread anyway.

OBLIVION

Man, I don't know what happened to my code. I'm trying to figure it out.

I literally just copy/pasted too.

OBLIVION

Earlier...

The classic blue car zoomed down the highway, making an unexpectedly quiet sound as it went. Not the explosive roar of the internal combustion, but the quiet whir of the electric motor. The inside was a good deal louder, the speakers blaring out a Black Sabbath tune, and the driver singing along in good spirits.

Billy had set out for Delton four whole days ago; he wanted to drive his own car, so flying wasn’t going to be an option, and he had to make it a road trip. It was a weird, lonely time for him, but he made the best of it. His band’s manager had plotted the course for him, to include charging stations for his car and nice hotels to stop at. This wasn’t, strictly speaking, her job, but Kathy was accommodating as always, and Billy had sent her flowers(using a service, but she didn’t need to know he hadn’t picked them himself). He spent the nights drinking in hotel bars or nearby clubs, schmoozing with fans(and not a few drunk strangers who didn’t know him from Adam), and then in the morning he would grab a huge iced coffee and an unhealthy breakfast sandwich and hit the road without a look back.

He passed the Welcome to Delton sign with a weird and unexpected thrill, hands gripping the steering wheel convulsively. Why the nerves? Because his parents lived in town, he thought. Or, they probably still did. Billy didn’t care to see them, and was a little worried he might run into them.

It’s not like you’re obligated to talk to them if they turn up, he reasoned. Tell them you've sucked a few dicks and they’ll back away slowly. He laughed at how he imagined the looks on their faces, but deep down he knew he would say no such thing. He would be polite and make his excuses, then go get high.

Not long later, he had pulled into a hotel just outside of Delton, and was waiting on the receptionist to confirm his reservation, looking at his phone and checking the Facebook thread. It was the first time he had done so since setting out from Seattle, but there was a delightful image of a mysterious drink, with the legend “Be here or be square.”

Billy smirked and commented below, ”be here or be squeer?”, before putting his phone away and apologizing to the receptionist who was waiting on him now. Taking the key card with a smile, he made his way to his room and changed for the event. First he shaved, brushed his teeth, and fussed with his hair. Next, he put on a pink V-neck, black skinny jeans, and a gray cable knit cardigan. On his feet were black Doc Marten boots with yellow laces, vintage from back when they were made in England. He put his round lensed sunglasses in his shirt by the earpiece.

He stopped on his way out to look at himself in the mirror by the door of his room. Was he nervous? Yeah. What if they thought he was lame? A sellout? It was weird to go back and see these people when he didn’t know if they’d read something stupid about him in a magazine. He took a breath and wrenched his eyes away from analyzing every imperfection in his hair.

Well, he’d made up his mind anyway. Hell, he didn’t drive all the way to Delton to not watch his former high school get demolished.

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WILLIAM BISHOP █ act one: way down we go Hilton on Route 1 ▸Ritman High Football field @Salsa Verde@The Man Emperor@Prisk ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

Despite a shot of tequila and a hastily finished white Russian back at the bar, Billy was quite steady as they walked around the perimeter fence to find their way in. In classic style, he was chattering away inanelt. "So what's even going on with you, Mier? Nat I atbleast follow on insta, but I barely even recognized you! I mean, glow up, no offense. Not that you weren't always the cute nerd, but you look damn good now! Rusty piece of shit..." This last was to the disused turnstile, as he kicked his way through it. Now that they were on the inside of the campus, he pulled a silver cigarette case from a pocket and flipped it open. He briefly considered lighting up one of the joints he had brought special for this occasion, but he decided to wait for more Ritman Survivors to show. Instead he selected a cigarette, and gestured to the other two with the case, silently offering. As he took his first drag, he saw another figure approaching. It took him a long minute to recognize Trystan, who he wasn't particularly familiar with in the first place. Great, here comes revenge of the nerds... No, Billy shook himself mentally, We've all changed, you were just saying so. Give the guy a break. "Hey, if you're after Agent Smith I think I saw him go that way!" he laughed good naturedly, gesturing with his free hand off in the distance. "How's it been, man?" ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

I

OBLIVION

<Snipped quote by Gisk>
Fun. I'm all for that. What genre was Billy's high school band? Dante's thing was more old-school punk - Dead Kennedys, Fugazi, etc., but I feel like for this anything goes since it was more something he did for fun. And they can be smoking buddies too. Dante's a techbro though so he vapes instead :^)

@Laertes

So his current band is Still Life Gospel, in high school he was in one called The White Crosses which definitely was a lot more classic punk than what he does now, so that totally tracks.

If they were smoking pals, he might also have hung out with Samuel(at least incidentally).

@Aeolian

Does Oleander allow himself to be called Ollie?

And will he allow himself to be hugged by Billy when they first greet after all this time?