'Oh.' Curren added with an afterthought as he saw Karen hesitate slightly with his harsh question.
'How much did they give the foundation anyway?' he gestured to the credstick, he looked almost visably uncomfortable to touch the thing.
An brief uncomfortable silence ensued.
'Never mind, just go.' he pushed the credsick across the table to her and sighed as he leaned back on his seat. Without a word Karen picked the stick up, turned away and left the restaurant.
IC - Mad World
Moderators: arcanus, Curren, Drake, Otto, Black
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Curren
- Magi
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- Joined: Fri Dec 28, 2007 10:30 pm
Post subject: Downtown Seatle Metroplex – Spring 2058
Last edited by Curren on Sat Mar 14, 2009 12:07 am, edited 1 time in total.
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arcanus
- Site Admin
- Posts: 1763
- Joined: Wed Dec 26, 2007 7:18 pm
Downtown Seattle - Fall 2058
Sam Burridge sat within an undisclosed office deep within Seattles Metroplex hall, he watched the various trid footage on a montage of screens.
Scenes of violence, of unassuming people turning into crazed killers, of their bodies turning into explosive infernos, various facilities had been hit, several law enforcement buildings, a couple of morgues, a few unidentified buildings believed to be federal or runner covers or safehouses.
“Grim images†commented his guest
Burridge nodded, three of attacks had occurred within the metroplex
Silence fell across the twilight dark office
“So your thoughts, Sam?†prompted the guest
“Nothing other than each of the attacks on the Law Enforcement and morgues followed the discovery of murder victims†commented Sam
“Agreed, but why go to such lengths?†replied the guest
“Well it indicates that there’s greater significance to these killings than some serial killing, something someone or something seeks to erase at a considerable and horrific cost†replied Sam “Do we have anything further from the intact murder site?†inquired Sam
“Nothing as of yet, the forensic evidence is truly gruesome, background count twisted, we’ve had three determined gang attacks in the past month†replied the Guest
Burridge’s brow furrowed, his mind ticking over “That would indicate we’ve missed something, something that’s at the site†he clicked his phone, it auto-encrypted as it dialed, then he hung up.
Something nagged at Sam’s mind, the line was government encrypted, but something felt wrong, concentrating a small bird appeared from thin air, issuing his instructions the bird whizzed away to find ‘Alwitcher’.
“Getting superstitious?†mocked the guest
“Just a feeling†whispered Sam, “Just a feeling!â€
Scenes of violence, of unassuming people turning into crazed killers, of their bodies turning into explosive infernos, various facilities had been hit, several law enforcement buildings, a couple of morgues, a few unidentified buildings believed to be federal or runner covers or safehouses.
“Grim images†commented his guest
Burridge nodded, three of attacks had occurred within the metroplex
Silence fell across the twilight dark office
“So your thoughts, Sam?†prompted the guest
“Nothing other than each of the attacks on the Law Enforcement and morgues followed the discovery of murder victims†commented Sam
“Agreed, but why go to such lengths?†replied the guest
“Well it indicates that there’s greater significance to these killings than some serial killing, something someone or something seeks to erase at a considerable and horrific cost†replied Sam “Do we have anything further from the intact murder site?†inquired Sam
“Nothing as of yet, the forensic evidence is truly gruesome, background count twisted, we’ve had three determined gang attacks in the past month†replied the Guest
Burridge’s brow furrowed, his mind ticking over “That would indicate we’ve missed something, something that’s at the site†he clicked his phone, it auto-encrypted as it dialed, then he hung up.
Something nagged at Sam’s mind, the line was government encrypted, but something felt wrong, concentrating a small bird appeared from thin air, issuing his instructions the bird whizzed away to find ‘Alwitcher’.
“Getting superstitious?†mocked the guest
“Just a feeling†whispered Sam, “Just a feeling!â€
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arcanus
- Site Admin
- Posts: 1763
- Joined: Wed Dec 26, 2007 7:18 pm
A Call To Arms
The forces assembled, the Proud Gajin assembled along Nimitz Avenue near 33rd street, they were outside of their territory but a grim glee ran through the gang, like naughty children in someone elses garden.
The gangs leader was White Ronin, a white human he surveyed his amassed people, a gang of various metatypes all opposed to the Japanese occupation of San Francisco, however like any self respecting gang a little protection, smuggling, extortion and turf raiding kept the coffers steady.
His deputy ‘Gweilo’ owed several favours to the runners Black and Silk, a debt that the gang owed and tonight would repay, their motley collection of armaments ready, riding on a collection of bikes and minivans they set off down Nimitz with determination they entered West Oaklands Barrens ‘Ghost Town’ and the territory of the Aurora Angels.
Black stifled a shudder as the pool of grey primordial slime enveloped ‘Angel’ and the pair of them sank beneath the ground, ‘Angel’s plan was to move through the earthy foundations of the school and therefore avoid any sentries, while his spirit also carried an astral bomb of sorts.
Black would take a more conventional if not clandestine route.
Upon the rooftop of the old ‘Mercy Retirement Home’, Silk settled into his prone position, his snipers rifle trained to acclimatise his line of fire he moved from the entrance to the upper windows.
At the meeting point on the corner of Berkley street, a curious ork sized form stood, closer inspection revealed it to resemble the armoured figure from an old comic book, the main difference was that it was a dark gun metal grey. The most surprising fact of the armour was that ‘Frank Drake’ stood within the torso of the figure.
It was a far cry from the original Lifter drone from which the majority of its parts had originated.
‘Lets see what you can do’ thought Frank Drake
Stealth programs activated as 2XS and his net buddies descended upon the antiquated node of the school, the whole of Ghost Towns LTG was so 2030s, sensors swept from the Personas drawing back as IO sweeps originated from the cameras.
“This should be fun†smiled 2XS
The gangs leader was White Ronin, a white human he surveyed his amassed people, a gang of various metatypes all opposed to the Japanese occupation of San Francisco, however like any self respecting gang a little protection, smuggling, extortion and turf raiding kept the coffers steady.
His deputy ‘Gweilo’ owed several favours to the runners Black and Silk, a debt that the gang owed and tonight would repay, their motley collection of armaments ready, riding on a collection of bikes and minivans they set off down Nimitz with determination they entered West Oaklands Barrens ‘Ghost Town’ and the territory of the Aurora Angels.
Black stifled a shudder as the pool of grey primordial slime enveloped ‘Angel’ and the pair of them sank beneath the ground, ‘Angel’s plan was to move through the earthy foundations of the school and therefore avoid any sentries, while his spirit also carried an astral bomb of sorts.
Black would take a more conventional if not clandestine route.
Upon the rooftop of the old ‘Mercy Retirement Home’, Silk settled into his prone position, his snipers rifle trained to acclimatise his line of fire he moved from the entrance to the upper windows.
At the meeting point on the corner of Berkley street, a curious ork sized form stood, closer inspection revealed it to resemble the armoured figure from an old comic book, the main difference was that it was a dark gun metal grey. The most surprising fact of the armour was that ‘Frank Drake’ stood within the torso of the figure.
It was a far cry from the original Lifter drone from which the majority of its parts had originated.
‘Lets see what you can do’ thought Frank Drake
Stealth programs activated as 2XS and his net buddies descended upon the antiquated node of the school, the whole of Ghost Towns LTG was so 2030s, sensors swept from the Personas drawing back as IO sweeps originated from the cameras.
“This should be fun†smiled 2XS
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arcanus
- Site Admin
- Posts: 1763
- Joined: Wed Dec 26, 2007 7:18 pm
Witching Hour
Moira Devalle had always been that pale awkward girl, the gothy outsider in highschool.
Black nail polish, pierced lips, studded nose and quasi talismantic jewelry, that was until Moira had started to get sudden violent visions and flashbacks.
She went through the parental disbelief, ‘it’s just a phase’, as the episodes continued Moira had brainscans, which revealed very little, then perhaps she was a special child and she underwent tests for magical talent again revealing nothing.
Moira had a troubled adolescence until further brainscans revealed abnormal neural activity, and it was concluded that she had some form of psychic talent, until the mid 50s such things were dismissed as an alternative manifestation of magic, not so now.
Thaumaturgists were now confirming that individuals with psychic abilities were undetectable to conventional magical means, suggesting a different origin or source of power.
Moira didn’t care, what she cared about was waking suddenly in the middle of the night, knife blade images flashing from dreamstate to waking consciousness, more than just a dream.
Moira looked around her Auburn apartment, cold sweat clung to her skin, her shortish black hair clumped together.
Looking around dark blue light shredded by shafts of the moons luminance painted her bedroom, another image struck her, her gift wasn’t kind.
It was then she released, the visions coalesced into something her waking brain could decipher, her mental cry rang across the ether “HANSON!!!!â€
Black nail polish, pierced lips, studded nose and quasi talismantic jewelry, that was until Moira had started to get sudden violent visions and flashbacks.
She went through the parental disbelief, ‘it’s just a phase’, as the episodes continued Moira had brainscans, which revealed very little, then perhaps she was a special child and she underwent tests for magical talent again revealing nothing.
Moira had a troubled adolescence until further brainscans revealed abnormal neural activity, and it was concluded that she had some form of psychic talent, until the mid 50s such things were dismissed as an alternative manifestation of magic, not so now.
Thaumaturgists were now confirming that individuals with psychic abilities were undetectable to conventional magical means, suggesting a different origin or source of power.
Moira didn’t care, what she cared about was waking suddenly in the middle of the night, knife blade images flashing from dreamstate to waking consciousness, more than just a dream.
Moira looked around her Auburn apartment, cold sweat clung to her skin, her shortish black hair clumped together.
Looking around dark blue light shredded by shafts of the moons luminance painted her bedroom, another image struck her, her gift wasn’t kind.
It was then she released, the visions coalesced into something her waking brain could decipher, her mental cry rang across the ether “HANSON!!!!â€
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arcanus
- Site Admin
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- Joined: Wed Dec 26, 2007 7:18 pm
Hanson Alwitcher stumbled to his left, as he did a chunk of masonry exploded from the far wall.
In the thick grey of the cellar or the torture pit as it had become to be known, a cloud of dust floated from the bullet hole.
Alwitcher rolled to the wall below the street level window, his Predator appeared in his hand as if by magic, his heart slowed to a methodical beat, a cold calm settled upon him.
“Mutha F†exclaimed the Star rigger, his tracking & surveillance drone hurtled down towards the offending window, a mini-disc drone separated crashing through the plexi-glass window and rocketing after the shooter, who was now sprinting down the corridor of the 14th floor.
The main tracker drone spun around the side of the office block just as it was hit by a barrage of electronic warfare.
Alwitcher was already moving, his 47 year old legs pounding along like those of a born again athlete, he ducked left through the adjacent underpass directed by the same force that had blasted his eardrums and undoubtedly saved his life.
His route meandered, until he surfaced by a fire escape door, within seconds the door sprang open a dark figure charging through it, a small disc like hover drone zooming out behind him.
The detective dropped to one knee, one eye closed and fired, four shots took the back of the assassins legs, no sooner than he had hit the ground did he explode into flames.
Alwitcher watched as the body thrashed, an inferno burning it from within, glancing around he spotted several burning body parts, his eyes widening in realization ‘Alwitcher’ scooped one of the parts up, switching the pain receptors off in his cyberhand and damping out the flames.
Alwitcher then watched the remains of his would be killer burn a bright orange.
In the thick grey of the cellar or the torture pit as it had become to be known, a cloud of dust floated from the bullet hole.
Alwitcher rolled to the wall below the street level window, his Predator appeared in his hand as if by magic, his heart slowed to a methodical beat, a cold calm settled upon him.
“Mutha F†exclaimed the Star rigger, his tracking & surveillance drone hurtled down towards the offending window, a mini-disc drone separated crashing through the plexi-glass window and rocketing after the shooter, who was now sprinting down the corridor of the 14th floor.
The main tracker drone spun around the side of the office block just as it was hit by a barrage of electronic warfare.
Alwitcher was already moving, his 47 year old legs pounding along like those of a born again athlete, he ducked left through the adjacent underpass directed by the same force that had blasted his eardrums and undoubtedly saved his life.
His route meandered, until he surfaced by a fire escape door, within seconds the door sprang open a dark figure charging through it, a small disc like hover drone zooming out behind him.
The detective dropped to one knee, one eye closed and fired, four shots took the back of the assassins legs, no sooner than he had hit the ground did he explode into flames.
Alwitcher watched as the body thrashed, an inferno burning it from within, glancing around he spotted several burning body parts, his eyes widening in realization ‘Alwitcher’ scooped one of the parts up, switching the pain receptors off in his cyberhand and damping out the flames.
Alwitcher then watched the remains of his would be killer burn a bright orange.
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arcanus
- Site Admin
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- Joined: Wed Dec 26, 2007 7:18 pm
Upon Earth as it is in Heaven
Captain Lucas Marley watched the trid screen that dominated the north wall of the King Precinct Downtown Lonestar command.
The screen was filled with numerous images relayed via cctv, drones and in some instances news cameras, each telling a tale as the predicted skirmishes opened between the syndicates.
Now that the 'Hammer' was gone blood was being let, so it was enforcers flexing their muscles or settling old scores, in turn their pet or allied Gangs were also sparing increasing the level of violence.
The 'Organised Crime Taskforce' was now in a state of 'Full Readiness', its knowbots running numerous strategic algorythms, reviewing old incidents and preparing possible senarios.
One that puzzled him was the death of a priest, in South Downtown, the old subburbs that had become the poorer area of the glitz, was it a mob hit or some random act.
The niggle in Marley's mind was that it was something more than a mugging, the way in which it had been done, the style.
Marley returned his attention to the screen, things were escalating, it was only a matter of time before the syndicates would make their moves as organisations, teritorial grabs, claims for further power.
The question was as always 'At what cost'
The screen was filled with numerous images relayed via cctv, drones and in some instances news cameras, each telling a tale as the predicted skirmishes opened between the syndicates.
Now that the 'Hammer' was gone blood was being let, so it was enforcers flexing their muscles or settling old scores, in turn their pet or allied Gangs were also sparing increasing the level of violence.
The 'Organised Crime Taskforce' was now in a state of 'Full Readiness', its knowbots running numerous strategic algorythms, reviewing old incidents and preparing possible senarios.
One that puzzled him was the death of a priest, in South Downtown, the old subburbs that had become the poorer area of the glitz, was it a mob hit or some random act.
The niggle in Marley's mind was that it was something more than a mugging, the way in which it had been done, the style.
Marley returned his attention to the screen, things were escalating, it was only a matter of time before the syndicates would make their moves as organisations, teritorial grabs, claims for further power.
The question was as always 'At what cost'
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arcanus
- Site Admin
- Posts: 1763
- Joined: Wed Dec 26, 2007 7:18 pm
Murder One
Margret Droight rang the Angel Foundation Offices at 14.17 on the 5th January 2060.
She sounded considerably more composed and her Trix WeeIcon was that of an endearing elderly granny 'Everybodies online these days' thought Voight with some degree of mirth.
The Stars CSI still had the area cordoned off, however they had after satisfying themselves that they had a complete evidence and trideo collection from the vestry they had allowed Margret to look around and identify if anything were missing.
Although Margret had informed the Star that she could find nothing missing, she then in a rather conspiratorial way informed Voight that a Silver Pendant the Father had kept in his draw was missing and that the pendant had always been kept there.
She confirmed that the Father had, had the pendant for as long as she'd cleaned the Church.
She sounded considerably more composed and her Trix WeeIcon was that of an endearing elderly granny 'Everybodies online these days' thought Voight with some degree of mirth.
The Stars CSI still had the area cordoned off, however they had after satisfying themselves that they had a complete evidence and trideo collection from the vestry they had allowed Margret to look around and identify if anything were missing.
Although Margret had informed the Star that she could find nothing missing, she then in a rather conspiratorial way informed Voight that a Silver Pendant the Father had kept in his draw was missing and that the pendant had always been kept there.
She confirmed that the Father had, had the pendant for as long as she'd cleaned the Church.
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Black
- Runner
- Posts: 191
- Joined: Fri Jan 09, 2009 3:29 pm
Caliburn black struggled to keep a lid on his temper, the conditioned psyche of Cardinal rushing back to the fore.
He walked slowly back to the main door after a whispered apology through gritted teeth to the Father for wasting his time.
Outside he stormed down the street and leapt onto his bike.
The engine roared and he surged away throttling quickly up until the bike was shooting through the Seattle Downtown streets at over 120mph.
"Aaaarrrrggghhhhhh!" he screamed into the air letting his frustrations vent.
"Fuck Curren. Fuck his Foundation. Fuck them all!!" he swore. "Time to go home."
A near miss persuaded him to ease off the power, he wasn't rigged in at the moment so this kind of speed was reckless. Reckless was something he did when he had no more choice.
Parking up in a mall car park he let out a sigh and took a seat on a grass verge watching the late evening traffic go by. His anger was still raw, but the source had changed. Initially he had been angry with Angel, but with time to reflect he was angry with himself for getting angry in the first place. And the truth was - Angel had been right. Only he'd seen an opportunity and had gone for it. Perhaps he should have discussed it with the others first.
Some men walked passed, dressed for a night out. They were laughing and joking amongst themselves, their conversation showing a good camaraderie. They were friends. Regardless of their working relationships, it sounded very mush like they worked together too, the were friends.
Friends.
That was something Caliburn Black had precious few of.
Curren, Drake and himself had been in 'The Zone' together and had come out the other side. They had worked together. Of all the people in the world they were probably the only ones he considered to be friends.
Friends were tolerant of one another failings, forgave each other quickly, letting any storms in their friendship burn themselves out, then picked up the pieces and got back on with life.
"You're a prat!" Necron growled at him from inside his head.
"All right Mr Charisma! Just remember you are me!"
Black hopped back on his bike and took a steady ride back to the church, stopping a discreet distance away. He watched the church building looking for observers, anyone else who was keeping an eye on it.
He walked slowly back to the main door after a whispered apology through gritted teeth to the Father for wasting his time.
Outside he stormed down the street and leapt onto his bike.
The engine roared and he surged away throttling quickly up until the bike was shooting through the Seattle Downtown streets at over 120mph.
"Aaaarrrrggghhhhhh!" he screamed into the air letting his frustrations vent.
"Fuck Curren. Fuck his Foundation. Fuck them all!!" he swore. "Time to go home."
A near miss persuaded him to ease off the power, he wasn't rigged in at the moment so this kind of speed was reckless. Reckless was something he did when he had no more choice.
Parking up in a mall car park he let out a sigh and took a seat on a grass verge watching the late evening traffic go by. His anger was still raw, but the source had changed. Initially he had been angry with Angel, but with time to reflect he was angry with himself for getting angry in the first place. And the truth was - Angel had been right. Only he'd seen an opportunity and had gone for it. Perhaps he should have discussed it with the others first.
Some men walked passed, dressed for a night out. They were laughing and joking amongst themselves, their conversation showing a good camaraderie. They were friends. Regardless of their working relationships, it sounded very mush like they worked together too, the were friends.
Friends.
That was something Caliburn Black had precious few of.
Curren, Drake and himself had been in 'The Zone' together and had come out the other side. They had worked together. Of all the people in the world they were probably the only ones he considered to be friends.
Friends were tolerant of one another failings, forgave each other quickly, letting any storms in their friendship burn themselves out, then picked up the pieces and got back on with life.
"You're a prat!" Necron growled at him from inside his head.
"All right Mr Charisma! Just remember you are me!"
Black hopped back on his bike and took a steady ride back to the church, stopping a discreet distance away. He watched the church building looking for observers, anyone else who was keeping an eye on it.
Perception Roll: 11 5 5 5 4 4 4 4 3 3 2 2 (6 hits)
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arcanus
- Site Admin
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- Joined: Wed Dec 26, 2007 7:18 pm
Dark Nights
Like an excited schoolkid Frank Drake leant down to see what the Priests safe contained.
Curren who too be fair had had a gutful today sat wearily in the office chair against the vestibles wall.
The JC spirit watched passively, Curren's brow furrowed "Aren't you things meant to protect their domains" he asked
JC turned and looked at the mage quizzically
"Well here we are just helping ourselves to anything, we could be anyone and your not doing anything?" he pushed
"No your Angel from the Angel Foundation, a heavenly messenger and here to find out who killed the beloved Father Thomas" replied the Hearth Spirit with a gentle tone
For a moment Curren seemed a little taken aback, before settling back in the chair to think!
Drake looked within finding a small box containing a series of datachips, there were also some documents, Prayer Beads, an old 2032 Colt Rattler and a credstick.
Opening his eyes Curren looked at his friends exclamation of curiousity
"Curiouser and Curiouser" murmered Frank
****
Having reimposed his usual level of clinical control 'Black' sat within the shadowy alleyway beside the Portello Avenues Stuffer Shack.
Ever watchful he clocked the SUV parked up, after some 15 minutes two pickups pulled up alongside the black SUV, the drivers conversing alongside each other.
Of greater concern was that 'Blacks' lowlight vision picked up the brownish tones of the 'Troll Killers' gang colours.
Curren who too be fair had had a gutful today sat wearily in the office chair against the vestibles wall.
The JC spirit watched passively, Curren's brow furrowed "Aren't you things meant to protect their domains" he asked
JC turned and looked at the mage quizzically
"Well here we are just helping ourselves to anything, we could be anyone and your not doing anything?" he pushed
"No your Angel from the Angel Foundation, a heavenly messenger and here to find out who killed the beloved Father Thomas" replied the Hearth Spirit with a gentle tone
For a moment Curren seemed a little taken aback, before settling back in the chair to think!
Drake looked within finding a small box containing a series of datachips, there were also some documents, Prayer Beads, an old 2032 Colt Rattler and a credstick.
Opening his eyes Curren looked at his friends exclamation of curiousity
"Curiouser and Curiouser" murmered Frank
****
Having reimposed his usual level of clinical control 'Black' sat within the shadowy alleyway beside the Portello Avenues Stuffer Shack.
Ever watchful he clocked the SUV parked up, after some 15 minutes two pickups pulled up alongside the black SUV, the drivers conversing alongside each other.
Of greater concern was that 'Blacks' lowlight vision picked up the brownish tones of the 'Troll Killers' gang colours.
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Black
- Runner
- Posts: 191
- Joined: Fri Jan 09, 2009 3:29 pm
Are these vehicles now gathered within sight of the Church?
Black will utilise the very good optical package in his eyeball drones to zoom in on the wing and rear-view mirrors of each vehicle to see if they have any other occupants. Sweeping through all his various modes - if he cant's see through normal visual methods he'll look for reflected heat sources upon the windows.
Perception: 9 8 5 5 5 3 3 2 2 2 2 (5 hits)
Also Necron will quickly check where Zuul is - thinking Slasher may be in the SUV or one of the vans.
Secondly the old robot will command Zuul to download everything on the gang boss' phone/palm pc to Black's phone immediately.
Matix perception to find slasher/zuul's location:
Computer+Analyse+2: 5 5 5 5 4 4 4 3 3 3 2 (4 hits)
Hacking+Edit to copy all the info (including calender appointments etc):
7 5 5 5 5 5 5 5 4 4 3 3 3 2 2 2 (8 hits)
Next Black will dial Angel's phone...