Your name is Deltorian Tessan. When you were told that you had work to do in Berlin, you were hoping to find a nice place to get a beer and waste your time doing absolutely nothing. Sadly, you were forced into taking a mag-rail, one of the worst forms of public transport. When you arrived in Berlin, the people you were supposed to meet were nowhere to be found. Brilliant, right? Well, seeing as you were in Germany, having a large cold one, just before you were inevitably dragged into some kind of horrible press event, seemed perfect. Of course, things didn't turn out properly. I mean, ending up in some back alley street surrounded by five people, all of which had that shit eating grin.The soft click of a gun slide. The eager hiss of a steel blade on leather. Knuckles cracking and the racking of a baton. This was going to be fun. By instinct, your hand reaches down towards the right side of you hip, fingers, passing over the pistol holster that sat just behind your coat. You know it was empty, but just a force of habit. As you see the first of the men begin charging towards you, you feel that sensation of the adrenal pump emptying itself into your bloodstream. With practice, you eyes flicker, spotting two charging towards you, with a knife and the other with a baton, one raising a pistol to aim, and the last two holding back.(A) Guns are dangerous, he goes first.(B) Deal with the guys heading towards you.(C) Take out the ones holding back, they might have something worse.
>>1454521>(B)How would we even take out the others first, without a ranged weapon? Try and keep them between us to keep the gunman hesitant.
>>1454521Grab B) and throw them into A)
(B) wins but spin added on. Writing
Roll rules. 1d100, 5 or lower is crit success, 96 or higher is crit fail.
Rolled 66 (1d100)>>1454602So... do we roll?Rolling just in case.
Rolled 68 (1d100)>>1454602Favour us, RNGesus
Rolled 41 (1d100)>>1454602
Rolled 81 (1d100)>>1454602
With a sudden burst of speed, you rush forward towards the first of the two charging you. Surprise flickered in his eyes as he continued right into your knee. As surprise turn into fear, he desperately tried to lash out at you with his knife. It was almost obvious that he would do that, but that didn't stop him. As it sailed past you, not reaching far enough for the knife to dig in, you land a hit to solar plexus and a knee to the groin, before he crumbles from the three second period of no pain to all the pain.The second attacker rushed forward, baton raised, ready for an overhead strike. With ease, you catch his arm in your left hand, clamping your hand around his wrist. Bringing the arm down and to the left of you, pulling it across to straighten it, you forcefully press your hand into the elbow joint, applying pressure right until there was a painful popping sound. The muscles in the wrist relaxed, releasing the baton held in his hand. Throwing him forward and catching the baton in one action, you raised, just in time to see one of the guys who had held back, swinging his brass knuckled fist in a wide haymaker. It took you by surprise that someone could move that fast, but then you remembered Michael. Damn, that guy was fast. The wide swing just few over your head as you ducked. Seeing how quickly it few past, you didn't want to be on the other end of this thing. Disengaging for a short bit, you saw the gun man, still aiming. Seems like you got lucky, because the guy with the baton had blocked the gun man's firing line. Time is going and you are very much clear combat, clear to be shot. The guy standing in front of you is getting ready for another swing and you don't know where the hell the last guy was. (A) GUN MAN NOW.(B) Get back into combat, hope that the gun man has bad reflexes and that the last guy doesn't jump you.(C) Look for the other guy and hope that RNGesus loves you enough to make you Neo.
>>1454708>(C)What could POSSIBLY GO WRONG?
>>1454708>(A) GUN MAN NOW.
>>1454730Seconding this decision
Any more votes?
(A) Wins. Roll and I'll start writing.
Rolled 16 (1d100)>>1454834QM isn't dead. Amazing.
Rolled 23 (1d100)>>1454834
Rolled 27 (1d100)>>1454834
Writing. Also, Sleeping, but writing after that
>>1454883Night QM, not sure where you're taking this quest, but I'm on board.
>>1454883I'm looking forward to John Wick style shenanigans
Normally, you would have been fine with small arms fire. You would be wearing your tactical vest, and three shots from whatever crappy ballistic pistol that guy had would have done almost nothing. Then you remembered that the Department had taken that from you as well, because, "Public Image" and "Discretion". When that through flew through your head, you immediately realised that you have been fighting a gun man, firstly without a gun (but that doesn't stop Michael from doing that), and secondly without bullet protection. Taking one last quick look around, to see if you can find the jackass who was going sneaky beaky, you spot something out of the corner of your eye. You didn't have time to make out what that was exactly, due to the fact that you were sprinting towards the gun man. As the first shot ripped through the air, you were already knee sliding. It was going to kill your legs later, but for now, you just wanted to look badass. You were already on him as he fired his second shot, a reflex twitch saving you from having your brain splattered on the floor, ... or at least losing your nose. As you began to rise, you sunk two blows with the baton, you stole earlier, right into the gut of the guy. One hit the legs sent him hitting the dirt. Taking a bit to time this next part, you hear the sounds of the brawler running up on you. Swinging around in a sudden motion, you released the baton in an overhand throw, right into the guy's face, probably breaking a nose and maybe fracturing some part of the skull, maybe. As you lean over, grabbing the pistol that had fallen out of the gun man's hands, the guy who you missed earlier began legging it down the alley. As you pick up the gun, something in your head goes, "If he gets away, our work is going to get a lot harder."(A) Centre Mass. Take him out of the fight, for good, maybe.(B) Leg him. It might take him out, but he might just hobble away to safety.(C) Don't listen to the voice, it's a Daemon.
>>1456765>(A) Centre Mass. Take him out of the fight, for good, maybe.Legging never works
>>1456765>B Call the ambulance later but don't stick around
>>1456765>CThreeway ties best ties.
>>1456765Those damned Daemons, always hacking our cyber-junk.He's right, though. Take the asshole down. I vote A), leg shots aren't actually a thing.
>>1456799Swapping to this. Previous vote was a troll vote, and we seem good enough to manage a leg shot. I doubt QM put in an option that wouldn't work.
>>1456786And now I'll stop being a dick and swap to this.
>>1456765>(A) Centre Mass. Take him out of the fight, for good, maybe.When bad guys bring guns, you play for keeps. They mean business, so do you.
Calling vote. (A) wins. Rolls and I'll start writing. Also mobile thing.
Rolled 79 (1d100)>>1457656
Rolled 26 (1d100)>>1457656
Rolled 53 (1d100)>>1457656
After a deep sigh of regret, you calmly raise the pistol. Quickly, you line up the sights and pull the trigger. The man drops, a clean shot to the back. As you swiftly and efficiently unload and dismantle the pistol, two boxes appear in the top right and left of you vision. Immediately after they appeared, jagged circles appeared within the left box, alongside an all too familiar voice. Your communications coordination AI, 4NG3L, nicknamed Angel.[i]"And now, we have paperwork. Great job you two. Do you guys know how much of a pain, a dead body is?"[/i]As soon as Angel finished her question, a line of bright red text began filling the right box. Angel's partner in crime, so to speak, your combat AI, D43M0N, nicknamed, Daemon. [b]"And jeopardise the mission by letting someone from the group we're looking for escape? Shut up and let me do my job."[/b]Carefully checking over the downed people, you slapped on some of the cable ties you kept on you. To your surprise the guy you shot was alive, although after comparing his condition to an image that Angel shared with you, you don't think he's going to to be doing anything anytime soon.Later, the cops arrived and luckily for you, they knew you by face, name and reputation, because according to Angel, they were packing. After an hour of paperwork and debating, you could finally leave. [i]"I have a ping on your contacts. They have your stuff and some information on what's going on. I also have co-ords for the safehouse and a site of interest. Valley squad is at the safehouse. Your call.[/i](A) Time to meet your contacts and get back your stuff.(B) Go rest at the safehouse(C) Satisfy your curiosity and investigate.
>>1458155>(A) Time to meet your contacts and get back your stuff.And for what it's worth Angel, I don't like shooting people. It's just necessary.
>>1458155>(A) Time to meet your contacts and get back your stuff.>>1458222supportan.
>>1458155>(A) Time to meet your contacts and get back your stuff
(A) wins. This time, no dice, I'm just gonna write up what happens next. Dice next time.
Taking the time, to get the adrenaline out of your system, you took a sort of scenic route. I mean, this was supposed to be a "holiday", just like Jezza's "holidays to Siberia". Berlin had definitely changed since the last time you been here. There were more skyscrapers, a few more mag-rail stations (pieces of shit), the huge shopping centre in the middle of the city had gotten an expansion (just great), and three more chop-shops clinics for those that wanted to be more in tune with robots. You couldn't really judge though, especially since you have a cybernetic left arm, not by choice though. Arriving at the part of Berlin that had yet to change, the historical district, Angel couldn't help but pipe up. "Why did we have to do this? I mean, pretty much anyone who pays attention to the news will recognise you, Del. Wouldn't it be easier if you just had your stuff on you?" You might have responded but seeing as how Angel usually asks rhetorical questions that she can answer by going through Department 7 documents, you kept quiet. Gladly, she did exactly that, with the corner of your vision that she occupied flicking through the files that you had been sent.The meeting place was set of shops on the eastern side of the city. It didn't take you long to spot your contacts. As you remember, they were Valley-2 and Valley-5 of Valley squad. Angel was going to pull out the entire roster of Valley squad, but as soon as she did, something locked her out of the system. Probably 01100010 01101001 01101110 01100001 01110010 01111001. What Angel was able to get hold of was the social media feed based off of Valley squad. Due to the fact that Valley squad is made up of a completely female roster, they were called the "Valley Girls" despite coming from five different countries, only one of which coming from America. Valley-2 was french and Valley-5 was Chinese, at least, you think they are. Hard to tell these days. Angel: "Let's go Del. Gonna have to ask a girl out some day. Wink wink, nudge nudge."Daemon: "I can't believe you have to say those things in order him to understand. (Facepalm emoji)"(A) Professional approach. Mention the operation and get moving. (B) Casual approach. Joke a bit, get to know them, and then get to work.(C) Passive approach. Take a seat nearby and wait for them to notice.
>>1458804>(A) Professional approach.
>>1458804>(A) Professional approach. Mention the operation and get moving.
>>1458804>(A) Professional approach.The binary for binary locked Angel out. I see.
(A) wins, but I'm gonna write the response tomorrow.
Taking a moment to shake out the last of the nerves, you make your move. There were a few things you were told in your briefing, and one of the more important things was the code phrase. In order to keep the mission in the shadows, the assets that you could use were separated, compartmentalisation. The only way you could get hold of them were a set of code phrases. It just so happened that the code phrase for any of Valley squad was "South West".As you mention the pass phrase, sitting in front of the two, the two notably sigh and pass off a bag to you. "Everything smaller than a shoe box is in there, sir. The rest is at the safehouse." With that, you calmly take the bag and look inside. Set in a small box was the one thing that had felt off when you arrived. Your revolver. It was special to you, as in long history. It was customised with an altered barrel, a laser sight, a custom trigger and grip, and the most notable difference, a featureless cylinder with an altered loading system. Sat next to it were three featureless cylinders that were smaller than the normal cylinder, the "speed loaders". As your eyes glazed over the gun, Angel interjects. "... Waiting for the cliched, 'I missed you.'"I'm ending the thread there, but expect a sequel soon. Hopefully, you will be back. Thank you for participating.