>>36023339
>Take the call burrowed into a nest of stuffed animals
With some dildos strewn about.

>>36023358
Second

>>36023339
>Take the call burrowed into a nest of stuffed animals
By the way, what was the other bonus objective?

>>36023358
Only if they're wet

>>36023339
>Tastefully decorated

>>36023358
>>36023378
>>36023387
>why

>>36023339
Haiku, remember to include your twitter next time.

>Take the call burrowed into a nest of stuffed animals

>>36023339
>Take the call burrowed into a nest of stuffed animals
>Sans dildo.

>>36023339
>Take the call in the middle of the explosion of papers, motorcycles parts, and other clutter accumulated around your bed

>>36023358
Kek, second.

Oh and heavy metal and motorcycle posters on our walls

>>36023339
>Take the call in your spartan efficiency apartment

>>36023339

>Take the call in the middle of the explosion of papers, motorcycles parts, and other clutter accumulated around your bed

>>36023470
Eww, fuck no.

>>36023358
This

>>36023470
Sure

>>36023339
>Take the call burrowed into a nest of stuffed animals
Cute rider is A-GO.

>>36023339
>>Take the call in the middle of the explosion of papers, motorcycles parts, and other clutter accumulated around your bed

>>36023339

You grab the phone and hold it to your head. "MDF Transportation Services," you say, burrowing back further into your pile of stuffed animals. They're so soft and fluffy, and you love burying yourself in them and feeling all their little fuzzy bodies press against you at the same time.

"Yes," the voice on the other end says. It sounds like a flustered old man, "This is Greer, with Syfer Systems Research." He pauses to catch his breath and you hear him panting. Some muffled percussive noises in the background, maybe gunfire.

"What can I do for you?" you ask. If that's gunfire, you're going to be getting your dangerous area rate, and that means a lot of money. You peek out of your pile and look at the old motorcycle piston rods strewn on the floor. A couple of them are still slickly shining, especially that one with the bend in it. You can almost forgive your engine for the hydrolock episode - it gave you such a wonderful toy to play with.

"We're out in the danger zone," he says. Definitely gunfire in the background, then. Triple pay. "And we've got a package that needs to be at our head office as fast as possible. We heard about you from Yellow Line Construction - said you did good work."

Oh, the YLC job. That had been fun. A cross-city race between several couriers to deliver competing plans for a new corporate building.

>I do good work for good pay - straight up, charge triple your usual
>What's it worth to you? - lean on him for as much as you can get
>I'm not feeling like the danger zone today - turn it down
>Write-in

>>36024123
>What's it worth to you? - lean on him for as much as you can get

>>36023437
Thanks for reminding me.

Twitter: https://twitter.com/HaikuDeluge

Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Cyberpunk%20Motorcycle%20Courier%20Quest

>>36023387
>bonus objectives

LAST SESSION STATS:

Phone Number Obtained: Ryan
Delivery Completed: Typhon Project Data
Bonus Objective Fulfilled: Styling On A Cop

Bonus Objective Missed: Fthagan

>>36024159
>Bonus Objective Missed: Fthagan
Can we know what this is?

>>36024123
> feeling all their little fuzzy bodies press against you at the same time.
L-lewd...
>What's it worth to you? - lean on him for as much as you can get

File: Maximum Oink.png (33 KB, 184x159)

33 KB PNG

>>36024123
>implying we use a bent connecting rod as a dildo

>>36024123
>I do good work for good pay - straight up, charge triple your usual

>>36024123
>I do good work for good pay - straight up, charge triple your usual

File: Imouto licking lips.gif (431 KB, 640x360)

431 KB GIF

>>36024207

>>36024123
>>I do good work for good pay - straight up, charge triple your usual

>>36024123
>>I do good work for good pay - straight up, charge triple your usual

>>36024123
>I do good work for good pay - straight up, charge triple your usual

>>36024123

"I do good work," you say, "for good pay. Triple my usual rate for going into the danger zone, half the total up front for a first-time customer, plus bonus for early delivery."

"Done," he says, almost too quickly, "We'll have the half wired to you in ten, with the location data. Get here in half an hour and you make the bonus."

"Great," you say, rising from the pile of stuffed animals like Godzilla wading out of the ocean. The danger zone is about forty-five minutes out, if you're going fast. Making it in thirty is very difficult, but potentially doable. Certainly illegal, though.

You grab a breakfast bar and shove it in your mouth as you walk toward the closet.

>Put on a sharp suit, like you always do - you're a stylish professional
>Throw on the usual leathers - it's old school, but you're an all-natural girl
>Zip on your full bodysuit - it's convenient, and marks you as a professional

[Ordered from least to most protection, although anything you'd wear on a bike is reinforced enough to stop road rash. What you pick here will be considered your defaul look.]

Second choice:

>You're good to go once you're dressed
>Grab your knife
>Grab your pistol
>Grab your sawn-off shotgun

[Same deal here. I'll take write-ins too.]

>>36024834
>Zip on your full bodysuit - it's convenient, and marks you as a professional
>Write in
Sawn off with a bayonet

>>36024123

>I do good work for good pay - straight up, charge triple your usual

Listen, if we're risking our lives just to get there and pick up said package, we deserve to get paid well.

>>36024834
>Zip on your full bodysuit - it's convenient, and marks you as a professional
Can we get a fluffy white bunny tail on that bodysuit? Maybe with some bunny ears on our helmet?

>Grab your sawn-off shotgun
Seconding >>36024858 if possible.

>>36024834
>>Zip on your full bodysuit - it's convenient, and marks you as a professional
Default as far as driving into danger zones goes.

>>Grab your pistol

>>36024834

>Zip on your full bodysuit - it's convenient, and marks you as a professional

>Write in - Pistol on the bike within easy reach, knife in the boot

>>36024834
>Zip on your full bodysuit - it's convenient, and marks you as a professional
Leather, of course

>Grab your pistol
Small, easily concealed

>>36024834
>Throw on the usual leathers - it's old school, but you're an all-natural gir
>Grab your knife
>Grab your pistol
>Grab your sawn-off shotgunl

>>36024834
>Zip on your full bodysuit - it's convenient, and marks you as a professional
>Grab your pistol

>>36024878
>Can we get a fluffy white bunny tail on that bodysuit? Maybe with some bunny ears on our helmet?
Oh god yes

>>36024878
>Can we get a fluffy white bunny tail on that bodysuit? Maybe with some bunny ears on our helmet?
This seems fun. Is it fun enough to get included though?

>>36024878
>Can we get a fluffy white bunny tail on that bodysuit? Maybe with some bunny ears on our helmet?
Yes. yes please.

>>36024834

You pull on your tough bodysuit and zip it up, feeling the reinforced armor patches slide against your frame and then mold to your shape. The important things are worth paying well for - the reinforced parts of the suit are bulletproof, and the rest are pretty tough. Combat boots for your feet - the steel toes come in handy all the time.

The pistol goes from under the pile of stuffed animals into the suit's front body pocket. Nothing like having a little security close to your skin. You sling on your empty messenger bag and grab your helmet.

Ground floor living sure is convenient, you think as you wheel your motorcycle out of the apartment building. It's a pretty decent place, all things considered. The street noise and the price are the major tradeoffs for the short walk, but it more than pays for itself in your business.

You make it to the sidewalk, swing one leg over your metal steed, and get going. You'll have to use the highways for this one - there's no other good way to get to the danger zone.

>Try for the time bonus
>Focus on getting there, not getting there as fast as possible

Roll 1d10, please.

Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>36025662
>Try for the time bonus
Gotta go fast

Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>36025662
>Try for the time bonus

Rolled 6 (1d10)

>>36025662

Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>36025662
>Try for the time bonus

Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>36025662
>Try for the time bonus
2fast

>>36025662
>>36025707
>>36025855
>>36025900
Noice!

>>36025662

(1/2)

You drive conservatively for the two blocks until you hit the highway on ramp. There are too many pedestrians around to take any big risks. Once you get up on the highway, there's nothing to stop you. You slice through the traffic like a hot knife through butter.

Deftly leaning left and right, you weave through the cars as if they were parked. If you make it through fast enough, you shouldn't pick up any pursuit until you're in the next sector. And the closer you get to the danger zone, the less enforcement there'll be.

If you're lucky.

Well, you've got a job in the danger zone. It's an unlucky place, even if you can ride the highway almost straight into it. The danger zone is one of those high risk, high reward places. It's an old wound in the city, left to simply scab and scar over. The only ones who live there are those who, for one reason or another, can't make it out into the city and hole up in the old ruins. If you ever make the city too hot to hold you, the danger zone is where you go.

And where you stay.

You're only on the road for a few minutes before you get a message confirming the funds hitting your account, a small indicator flashing it up on your helmet's visor. Then the map flashes up, showing you your destination.

Maybe you should have held out for more money.

File: Back When They Cared Enou(...).jpg (116 KB, 1000x667)

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>>36026753
(2/2)

The indicator is near the center of the dust bowl, the crater at the center of the danger zone, the cause of the whole thing. It's wide open out there, no good cover you can see on the satellite image, and your bike will send up a plume of dust that can be tracked for miles.

You lean further down on your humming mount and open the throttle all the way. You're going for that speed bonus, and no corp cop is crazy enough to chase you into the danger zone. You've done a few job there before, but nothing out in the dust bowl itself.

From what you remember, the highway dead-ends into the danger zone, a tongue of the city thrust obscenely out into its wayward misbegotten child. If you punch it and ride straight off the end, you'd be able to shave some time off, but it's a lot more risky than going in through the ruins on the surface streets.

>Highway To The Danger Zone
>Go in on the surface roads

More 1d10s, please.

Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>36026779
>Highway To The Danger Zone
We Top courier now.

Rolled 2 (1d10)

>>36026779
>>Highway To The Danger Zone
Live fast, die hard, or something.

Rolled 7 (1d10)

>>36026779
>Highway To The Danger Zone

>>36026779
LOOK OUT KENNY LOGGINS!

Rolled 7 (1d10)

>>36026779
>Highway To The Danger Zone
Is this going to become Akira?

Rolled 1 (1d10)

>>36026779
>Highway To The Danger Zone

Rolled 1 (1d10)

>>36026779
>Highway To The Danger Zone
of course

File: 1411163991910.jpg (29 KB, 288x195)

29 KB JPG

>>36026812
>>36026841
>>36026920
>>36026925
>these rolls

Guys, I'm feeling the danger.

>>36026965
"Highway to Hell" might be a more appropriate BGM for the occasion...

>>36026779
>Highway to the Danger Zone
Here's hoping we don't end up breaking another rod on the bike as we jump off.

>>36026965
Well good thing we have a pistol so we can dogfi--- er bikefight.

Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>36026988
Sorry, missed the roll.

File: 1413861708694.jpg (46 KB, 736x525)

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>>36026779

You see the flashing lights of a police blockade ahead, concrete and steel barriers spread across the highway, cop cars and motorcycles parked on each side.

Not your lucky day.

It looks like they've got a chain-link gate set up to let authorized vehicles past, although you don't know who that might be. You probably don't want to know. Whoever it's for, the gate is the least solid part of the barricade, so it's what you aim at as you hunker down on your bike.

Gunshots.

You tense yourself at the sound. If you're lucky, they won't hit anything you care about. Of course, have you been lucky yet today?

A bullet thuds against your side moments before your bike slams into the gate. Your armor stops the round, but it still feels like an angry car tried to punch you. Someone's yelling about shooting out tires. You jerk, and your bike slews into the gate. You still break through the barrier, but it kills your momentuum, and you're not facing quite the right direction anymore. There's a police bike in front of you, its helmeted rider mouthing something into a radio.

"Agent 20," you hear over the open radio channel, "welcome to the pigsty."

>Surrender
>Fuck this, you're going to the danger zone
>Insult him and keep going
>Write-in

Eh, more 1d10s.

Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>36027436
>Insult him and keep going

>>36027436
>Fuck this, you're going to the danger zone

Rolled 8 (1d10)

>>36027436
>Insult him and keep going
Really think you can catch me? pah.

Rolled 5 (1d10)

>>36027482
Forgot roll

Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>36027436
"Thpthpthpthp, Meep meep!"
>Fuck this, you're going to the danger zone

Rolled 3 (1d10)

>>36027436
>Insult him and keep going
"no need to say it, the smell gave it away"

Rolled 1 (1d1)

>>36027436
>>Fuck this, you're going to the danger zone

>>36027436
>>36027538
I don't even care if he doesn't get the reference, lets do this!

Rolled 2 (1d10)

>>36027436
>Write-in
Insult him and keep going to the Danger Zone (no real reason why we can't do both at once, and oh look, it's this asshole again)

>>36027538
I love it

>>36027538
I don't get it.

>>36027690
roadrunner anon

>>36027690
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qWdFIXn2Mdo

>>36027690
your childhood was probably terrible

>>36027436

"No need to say it," you tell him, visibly relaxing your body, "the smell gave it away."

Suddenly, you slew your bike around, broadcasting "Thpthpthpthp, Meep meep!" over the public radio band, and crank the throttle.

You're off, but not before anyone can react. Bullets scream around you, and a few patter on your bike. Another slams into your back at an angle. That's going to leave a bruise, and there's an uncertain note in your bike's usual roar. Once you've got time, you'll have to check for damage.

"There's no rain this time," the motorcycle cop says over the radio, "and I've been looking forward to seeing you in the sunlight."

This asshole again. You knew you'd be going through Juptek's sector to get to the danger zone, but running into this same cop twice in twenty four hours is a bit of a coincidence.

Again, you say to yourself, not your lucky day.

He's keeping pace with you this time, hunched down into the wind, a grin and some stubble visible below his helmet's visor.

"I've outraced every cop in my sector," he says, "I was hoping for a challenge."

>Swerve toward him and try to punch/kick him
>Let your gun do the talking
>He wants a challenge? He gets a challenge
>Write in (I need more insults)

2d10s this time

Rolled 5, 3 = 8 (2d10)

>>36027877
Seriously? Stalking me seems a little bit Boar-ish. I know you like racing but you are really Hamming it up here. Why don't you do your job and bring home the bacon?

>He wants a challenge? He gets a challenge

Rolled 10, 1 = 11 (2d10)

>>36027877
>Write in (I need more insults)
Ask him about his sex life

Rolled 2, 9 = 11 (2d10)

>>36027877
>He wants a challenge? He gets a challenge

Rolled 10, 3 = 13 (2d10)

>>36027877

>He wants a challenge? He gets a challenge

Rolled 2, 7 = 9 (2d10)

>>36027877
>>He wants a challenge? He gets a challenge

Rolled 4, 3 = 7 (2d10)

>>36027877

>Write-in: "You sure that smell is coming from the zone and not you, porky?"

Honestly I don't want us racing him if the bike's been hit, especially if a bullet hit the engine somewhere. But I doubt he'll give us the chance to look it over.

>He wants a challenge? He gets a challenge

>>36027877

"Oh," you ask, innocently, "Are all the pigs bores?"

You're at a disadvantage right now, still smarting from the blunted gunshots and riding a damaged motorcycle, but he wants a challenge? He gets a challenge.

You open the throttle up bit by bit, feeling out your bike's new tolerances. There doesn't seem to be anything horribly wrong with it, but that noise still has you worried.

"They're just trying to bring home the bacon," he says, passing you, "but I'm looking for a thrill."

Your side and back hurt, and the road is rapidly roughening. Long cracks spread along it, and they're rapidly widening as you go. If you put your wheel in one, it's over. You've got no thought to spare for making more jokes.

It's just you and the road. He doesn't matter, he never mattered. The cracks matter. The piles of rubble, the potholes, and the pitfalls matter. This contest is between you and the neglected, abused highway.

And you can see the end from here.

It's only another thirty yards before the last fragments of the elevated road just stop and crumble away into nothingness. Not enough time to stop.

But that wasn't the plan anyway.

At some point, you must have passed him, because you shoot off the end of the road, engine roaring as your wheels churn the sky, long before he pulls up at the end to watch you land.

>Taunt him
>Drive off into the distance without looking back
>Write In

>>36028335
>Drive off into the distance without looking back
we have a job to focus on

Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>36028335
"Well, time to see if pigs can fly."

>>36028335
>Taunt him
>Drive off into the distance without looking back
Sorry to leave you hanging like a stuck pig, but someone needs to pork chop your ego down to size!

>>36028406
Welp, I'm saving that 10 for the next time you'd need to roll.

>>36028435
Thank you based Haiku

>>36028335
>Drive off into the distance without looking back

>>36028435
thanks yo!

>>36028335

>Verbally taunt him
"Maybe next time, swine. This 20's got a job to do." (last thing we need is to try and do tricks mid-air only to break the bike when we land)

Speaking of landing...
>Drive off into the distance without looking back
This is going to be a rough one, as it's gonna be... what, a good 15-20 foot drop at the very least? Our attention needs to be on (whatever's left of) the road to get to the destination on time.

>>36028335

> Write In

Smile at him, and wave.

"Not bad, handsome. We'll play again next time."

He doesn't seem so bad for a cop, to be honest. And it's unusual to see a thrillseeking one. Why be a bitch about it?

>>36028643
I second this.

>>36028643

Yeah, this.

>>36028643
>Why be a bitch about it?
To make him motivated

>>36028643
Backing

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>>36028726

No-one likes a sore winner.

File: 1413255394761.jpg (135 KB, 960x542)

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>>36028335
(1/2)

It's a hard landing, the chunks of asphalt and smaller bits of gravel crunching under the weight of your bike. A twinge of pain rockets through your chest. The recent damage to your back and side are starting to stiffen, and the impact jarred them.

You rattle along slowly for a bit, giving yourself a rest and feeling out the broken road with your bike.

Out of curiosity, you look over your shoulder at the cop, astride his bike at the lip of the highway. The helmet and the distance make his face unreadable, but he's not pointing a gun at you.

You wave at him on an impulse. "Not bad, handsome," you say over the radio, "Let's do it again some time."

"Third time's the charm," he says as he turns his bike around, "or so they say."

Well, that's that. Now to follow your GPS into the dust bowl proper. There are still a couple of blocks of half-demolished buildings before you make it onto the dust itself. There's still greenery here.

You turn up the throttle as you thread your way through the ruins. The highway brought you pretty far into the danger zone, so most of the buildings are half-collapsed or worse, and still covered in opportunistic vines. You keep an eye out for any scum on the prowl, but you don't see anyone.

File: 1402050870755.jpg (134 KB, 709x1001)

134 KB JPG

>>36029138
(2/2)

Suddenly, there's an ear-splitting wail of digital noise over the public band radio. Your helmet auto-kills the transmission after a few seconds, but it's still disorienting, and distracts you from the bipedal drone before it's almost on top of you.

The thing must have come out from one of the buildings during the sonic assault, and it's probably got backup. It's also pointing a rifle at you, and you'd give good odds that it's got armor piercing rounds or something else nasty in there.

Damn, but the multi-lensed face looks creepy, in a half-constructed kind of way.

>Front wheel of the bike into its face, run it over
>Gun time
>Surrender
>Write In

>>36029279
>Front wheel of the bike into its face, run it over

>>36029279
>Front wheel of the bike into its face, run it over
"Chock on it, bitch!"

>>36029279
>Gun time

>>36029279
>Front wheel of the bike into its face, run it over
no time to waste, and that should take care of it

>>36029279

> Gun time

Bullets reach a target faster than the wheel of our vehicle, with less chance of fucking up the getaway.

>>36029279
>Front wheel of the bike into its face, run it over

>>36029279

[Activate Saved 10]

There's no time to pull out your gun if the drone has the drop on you. Go for it, and you'll be full of holes.

You twist the throttle, raise your bike's front wheel into the air, and then slam it into the thing's lensed face.

It doesn't react fast enough - you hit it with something unexpected before the simple AI could pass control to a human. You put your weight into it, thrusting forward as the drone topples backward.

"Choke on it, bitch!" you yell as it fires reflexively, bullets flying past you. In this position, you're in more danger from the muzzle flash.

You gun the engine and run it over, the weight of your bike crushing any delicate equipment the drone has. Admittedly, on a sec-spec drone, that's not much, but you've probably messed up most of its joints and actuators.

You take a peek at the time. You've made excellent time, and it looks like you might be able to take a quick look at the bike before you make the pickup, and still get the early bonus.

If a corp's got biped drones working the area, something serious is going on. Those frames are mainly use for clearing people the corp doesn't care about from an area the corp does care about. That would explain why you haven't seen anyone else around here.

And those were Nepcor cops blocking the highway, which means this is big enough for the heavyweights to get involved.

Knowing your luck, whatever you're supposed to be transporting is at the center of it all.

>Back out - this is getting too crazy
>Drive like Hell for the meeting point, see if you can raise Greer on the phone
>Take a quick look at the bike

Second choice:

>Coup de grace the drone with your pistol
>Leave it half-functional on the ground

Let's get some 1d10s

Rolled 2 (1d10)

>>36029668
>>Drive like Hell for the meeting point, see if you can raise Greer on the phone
>Front wheel of the bike into its face, run it over

Rolled 4, 3 = 7 (2d10)

>>36029668
>Take a quick look at the bike
Need our ride to work
>Coup de grace the drone with your pistol
No loose ends

Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>36029668
>Take a quick look at the bike
please nofuel leak, please no fuel leak...
>Leave it half-functional on the ground

Rolled 10, 9 = 19 (2d10)

>>36029668

>Take a quick look at the bike

>Leave it half-functional on the ground

Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>36029668
>>Drive like Hell for the meeting point, see if you can raise Greer on the phone

>Coup de grace the drone with your pistol

Rolled 1 (1d10)

>>36029668
>Drive like Hell for the meeting point, see if you can raise Greer on the phone

>Leave it half-functional on the ground
Save the bullets

>>36029730
whoops
>Leave it half functional on ground

>>36029877
Oh goddammit, this quest is run on the best of 3 rolls right?

Drivers:

>>36029730
>>36029792
>>36029877

Quick Lookers:

>>36029732
>>36029743
>>36029777

I'm going to give is some more time, since this is actually a decently important decision.

>>36030021
This quest is run on rolls.

>>36030063
>Quick Look

>>36030063
Quick look, our ride fails us we're deader than dead.

>>36030063
quick look
>>36030117
agreed

Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>36029668

>Take a quick look at the bike
If it dies, our odds of survival drop significantly.
>Coup de grace the drone with your pistol
Better to put it down before some half-working drone injures us even more.

>>36029668
(1/2)

You need to take a look at your bike. Your bike dies out here, you die out here.

Or in a corp interrogation chamber, perhaps.

You put the kickstand down, leaving the rear wheel pinning the done to the ground, and get off the motorcycle. You realize how much your side has stiffened up when you get down on one knee to get a closer look at things. There are some dents and dings, but it looks like the cops were using hollow points, which didn't do much more than mar the paint in most places.

The most serious issue is a damaged piece of fairing, which seems to have taken a couple of rounds from something more substantial, and is on the verge of falling off. It's probably what changed the tone of the wind noise.

You make sure there's no visible issue with your fuel system or any part of the engine and drive train you can get at.

You see a piece of the drone's armor that looks like it's the right shape to repair and reinforce the broken fairing. Probably a good idea, considering what that fairing protects.

File: Greer.jpg (40 KB, 725x408)

40 KB JPG

>>36030716
(2/2)

The armor comes off easily enough under the assault of your portable toolkit, the drone twitching as if in pain, but it's probably just trying to take you out with its broken limbs. A few minutes' work with your portable toolkit (the nano-bonding duct tape proves its worth again), and the fairing is as good as new, if a bit uglier.

Maybe there's a patchwork charm to it, you think, as you step back and stuff your tools back into their case.

Then you're off again, heading toward the mark on your map, across the dust bowl, grains of shattered glass billowing up behind you.

You call Greer.

"Hello?" he says, stacatto gunfire in the background, "Greer here. When are you going to show up?"

"I'm shooting for the early arrival bonus," you tell him, inching the throttle farther and farther up. Driving on the glassy sand dunes is tricky, and you're uncomfortable with how exposed you are.

>Ask him about the situation
>Ask him about the package
>Ask him about all this corp security
>Ask him for more money (This option will result in you being a dick, since you've already contracted for one price.)
>Write In

>>36030751
>Ask him about the package
>Ask him about all this corp security

>>36030751
[Note: this is a pick 2, and options 1 and 3 overlap somewhat. I'm just trying to figure out what you're more interested in hearing about.]

>>36030751
>Ask him about the situation

>>36030751

>Ask him about all this corp security

>>36030751
>>Ask him about the situation
>>Ask him about the package

>>36030751
>Ask him about all this corp security
>Ask him about the situation
>Do NOT ask for mo money

>>36030751

>Ask him about the situation

>>36030751
>Ask him about the situation
>Ask him about the package

>>36030751
>>36030782 (me)
add
>Ask him about all this corp security
then

>>36030751
>Write In

>Ask him about his sex life

Just tacked on to whatever else we ask.

>>36030777
Personally, I think they're both equally relevant. Think you could word both questions together in a single line?

>>36030822
No time, we're on the clock and the heat's on our ass! We can ask him in person if there aren't to many bullets flying over head.

>>36030839
>My sex life?
>I'm just not interested in getting penetrated by bullets!

>>36030751

> Ask him about the situation
> Ask him about all this corp security

Let's be professional about this.

>>36030751
>Ask him about the situation
>Ask him about the package

>>36030878
also, sex life

>>36030964
I want to back this, I really do, but This isn't the time or place.

>>36030989
what? We are already asking about his... package.

>>36031037
HAHAHAHAHA
Okay fine, I'll back it.
I don't care what anyone else thinks, I love puns.

>>36030751

"What's your situation?" you ask, driving around a piece of concrete wreckage poking out of the sand. It might have been a structural pillar once. If you're going into a minor warzone, you need to know what's going on. And at least one side needs to know to not shoot at you.

"We're holed up in what's left of an old bunker complex," he tells you, "Fuck you, tin can!" you hear him yelling above several loud reports, "They're trying to wear us down with drones. Watch out for fliers. We're just lucky the heavier stuff gets bogged down in the sand. There's cover, if you can make it."

Any bunkers left in the dust bowl would be relics of the old corp that used to be in this sector. Until it got glassed. Hell, part of the reason Nepcor has such a hard time upkeeping their sector is the territory they absorbed. They're still spread too thin as it is.

Ah, fuck. A small research firm, probably a proxy for a larger corp, is digging through the old ashes of a corp that did something crazy enough to get its head offices glassed. And at least one bigger corp is trying to stop them.

And you're going to have to pull out whatever it is they want, under their noses.

"Great," you say, "what've you got for me? How big is your package?"

"Nobody's been dissatisfied with it yet," he tells you, with the clipped humor of someone with their finger on a trigger, "it's as big as your arm, maybe bigger." A couple more shots. "It is an arm, in fact. A prototype aug arm."

"Sounds like fun," you tell him, "I think I see the bunkers up ahead."

There are two or three large-wheeled APCs parked around a few piles of twisted and shattered concrete wreckage. If you had to guess, you'd say the bunkers only survived because the buildings above fell on them.

>Ask who the attackers are
>Ask about his sex life
>Radio silence while you're going in

>>36031260

>Radio silence while you're going in

>>36031260
>Radio silence while you're going in
We really would rather not get shot.

>>36031260
>>Radio silence while you're going in

>>36031260
>>Radio silence while you're going in
Can't risk it with electronic engines of war walking around.

>>36031260
>>Radio silence while you're going in
While talking about sex life is fun, it is better when talking face to face. Plus, I'm partial to not being shot

>>36031260
>Ask about his sex life
For you pun guy.

>>36031260
>>Ask who the attackers are

>>36031260

You drop the connection, worried about the drones or their operators tracking your approach via your radio. There's nothing you can do about the plume of dust your motorcycle's kicking up, though. You circle the bunkers, keeping your distance, until you're on the side opposite the APCs.

Maybe the spread of the dust plume will confuse anyone watching it, and the rubble should hide you from the APCs' sensors suites.

Speeding in, body pressed low to your motorcycle, you lose sight of the APCs. It's a tense ride to the ruins, and you feel like it takes forever, even though it's a few minutes at the most.

As you close in, you keep an eye out for drones, but the only one you see is the wreckage of a small airborne quad-rotor type. An older design, still used when maximum reliability is required. Looks like it was shot down.

You finally make it to the ruins. Nobody's shooting at you, so you figure Greer identified you to his guys. You don't see them, but you assume they're just well-hidden. There aren't any active drones around either, although there are sparking, blasted remnants of drones littering the area.

The only thing you can hear is the engine of your motorcycle.

It's too quiet.

>Explore on foot
>Drive your motorcycle in

Second choice:

>Draw Your Pistol
>Don't

>>36031679
>>Don't
>>Drive your motorcycle in

>>36031679
>Drive your motorcycle in
>Don't

>>36031679

>Drive your motorcycle in
>Draw Your Pistol

>>36031679
>dropping my trip

I guess that's the mark that it's way past my bedtime.

>>36031679
>>Drive your motorcycle in
>Don't

>>36031679
>Drive in

>Draw it

For the love of God, let's draw the one weapon we decided to bring with us. What reason is there to not draw it?

>>36031679
>Drive your motorcycle in
>Draw Your Pistol

We're about to go into a moshpit of assault droids, might as we'll be armed

>>36031679
>Drive motorcycle in
>Draw it

>>36031679
>Drive your motorcycle in
>Draw Your Pistol

>>36031679
(1/2)

You draw your pistol from your bodysuit's front chest pocket. Holding it makes controlling the motorcycle a little more difficult, but you can manage. You drive slowly into the nearest entrance, wheels crunching drone fragments and even mostly-whole drones on your way in.

In its virgin youth, the room might have been a lobby or reception area. Now its ceiling is a sort of makeshift tent made from two concrete slabs and an I-beam propping each other up, and most of the floor is buried in rubble. The only light filters in through chinks from outside, through shining swirls of dust.

There are more defunct drones in here, along with a couple of bodies lying in a pool of blood. Probably Greer's team.

You can smell the blood through your helmet, slightly nauseating. The remains of a cut-apart blast door and a cutting torch are lying next to a large gap in the floor, probably the entrance the the bunker.

File: 1402049668526.jpg (194 KB, 600x1300)

194 KB JPG

>>36032244
(2/2)

Your motorcycle's engine echoes in the narrow flight of stairs as you walk it down them.

They empty into a concrete room with a white tiled floor. The worklamps on the floor cast a stark light across the entire scene.

It's a slaughterhouse.

Six or seven men in a pool of blood that fills most of the room. Slit throats, stabbed eyes, darkly oozing punctures in thighs. A few young ones, obviously just muscle, and a few older men, one with a lit phone in one hand and a pistol gripped in the other. Blood everywhere.

And across the room from you, leaning lazily against the wall, is a satisfied-looking man with a cigarette between his lips, a knife in one hand, and an aug arm gripped in the other. His suit looks strangely out of place here, but it marks him as a corp Asset. Means he's Danger with a capital D.

"Need a hand?" he he asks with a smirk, twitching the false arm at you so its fingers flop.

>Shoot him - it's pretty clear what happened here. Kill him, take the arm, complete the job
>Tire to the face - it worked once already
>GTFO - you got half your triple fee, which is 1.5x your normal fee, in the bank already. you can wimp out on this one job
>Start asking questions - You are blocking the exit to the surface
>Write In

>>36032257

>Start asking questions - You are blocking the exit to the surface

>>36032257
>>Start asking questions - You are blocking the exit to the surface
"So... We good?"
I guess that means we never got the item we were supposed to deliver, making the contract void.

>>36032257

> Start asking questions - You are blocking the exit to the surface.

Yeah, no way we can beat this guy if it comes to a shooting match. Talking to him sounds like a better bet.

>>36032257
>>Start asking questions - You are blocking the exit to the surface
So...how's your sex life? also, what.

>>36032321

Will you stop doing that.

>>36032257
>Shoot him

We might as well try.

Haiku, if we hadn't stopped to fix our motorcycle, would we would have arrived before this guy?

>>36032293
I think he's holding the arm Greer was talking about.

We could still deliver it to the head office of the people who hired us.

>>36032257
>Shoot him - it's pretty clear what happened here. Kill him, take the arm, complete the job
well it's one of these "no laws" zone, and i really doubt he'd let us walk away like that, even if we pussied out

>>36032340
>I think he's holding the arm Greer was talking about.
He is, but if we look at the technicalities we never really were given the item to hand off, thus making us blameless in the situation if we were not to fuck with the guy. He'd probably fuck us up if we tried.

>>36032257
>>Start asking questions - You are blocking the exit to the surface

>>36032257
>Start asking questions - You are blocking the exit to the surface
"Well, employer Number 1 is dead-on-arrival. I'm already all the way out here, need that delivered somewhere Number 2?"

>>36032368
I like this since we're a courier not a merc.

>>36032368
I support this as well

There's no way we can take this guy on ourselves if he just murdered seven guys with guns, by himself, with a knife.

But didn't OP say there was a cutting torch rig on the ground floor?

If we can get up there, knock the tops off of the gas tanks, thrown them into this room, and touch off the explosion, we could probably take this guy out.

>>36032486
Maybe we can ask questions while getting a better bearing on the surrondings

>>36032368
Also supporting. Makes it clear we're a neutral party happy to sell our services to anyone with a sufficiently big checkbook.

>>36032257
(1/2)

This is probably the highest-caliber shitstorm you've ever walked into.

You've never seen an Asset this close in person before. Well, not that you know of. You've heard the stories about the corps' most valuable agents, of course, but actually seeing one in the flesh, basking in the glory of his kill is a new experience. You've seen some nasty stuff go down, you've known some killers, but a guy who just took out a room of heavily-armed dudes with nothing more than a knive is in a league of his own.

And he's got the item you're being paid to transport.

Your one advantage is the helmet's tinted visor. He can't see where you're looking, which means you can't give away your intentions, and you can keep studying the room.

"So," you ask, "we good?" Your eyes are adjusting to the terrible lighting, and your eyes rove the room busily for anything that might help you.

"I'm good," he says, gesturing lazily at the bodies on the floor with the artificial arm "better than the drones at least. You done anything this fun lately?"

You see a large air vent cover lying on the floor behind Greer's corpse, and a corresponding hole just below the ceiling. If he got behind them while they were distracted with the drones, his accomplishment isn't quite as impressive. You might have a chance.

Still, it was seven guys, even if he did get the drop on them.

"No, I'm just a courier," you tell him, "and employer number one is dead-on-arrival. I'm already all the way out here, so, do you need that delivered somewhere, employer number two?"

>>36032656
(2/2)

He just sort of looks at you fixedly for a second, then starts laughing. "Oh man," he says, "that's great. I kill all these fuckos for this thing, and you think I'm just going to hand it to you, and pay you for the pleasure? Not to say I wouldn't pay you for pleasure, but I'm a courier too," he says, flipping his knife around in his hand, like a hyperactive schoolboy with a pencil, "I deliver surprises."

He's grinning like an idiot now.

You see his weight shift a split second before he lunges across the room.

>Bike
>Gun
>GTFO
>The plan in >>36032486
>Write-In

2d10s, please.

>>36032667
>Write in
"Couldn't we have just passionately fucked instead of trying to kill each other?!"
>The plan in >>36032486 #

Rolled 5, 6 = 11 (2d10)

>>36032667
>Bike
tire to face

>>36032667

>The plan in >>36032486 #

Rolled 1, 6 = 7 (2d10)

>>36032667
>>The plan in >>36032486

Rolled 5, 9 = 14 (2d10)

>>36032715
Forgot roll

Rolled 3, 5 = 8 (2d10)

>>36032667
>>Bike

Rolled 6, 8 = 14 (2d10)

>>36032667
>Write-in
"Hey, I don't want any trouble," while we defend ourselves.

>The plan in >>36032486

And if that doesn't work?

>GTFO

Do we even attempt to grab the prosthetic arm if it gets away from him somehow? This might cause us more problems than it's worth.

>>36032667

If he's moving like that, he's got to be aug'd up. At least legs, with the necessary hip and spine reinforcement. Hell, he might have just gone for it and gotten arms too.

But as long as his feet aren't on the ground, that doesn't do anything for him. He can't change direction in midair.

The feral roar of your motorcycle's engine fills the small room as it rears back on its hind wheel, then plunges its front wheel into his face. He can't stop himself, and the weight of your bike bears him to the ground.

"Hey," you say, "I didn't want any trouble."

You don't want to find out how heavily augmented he is, so you slew the bike around while he's still disoriented. It's a bumpy ride up the stairs, but those gas cylinders are worth every jar of your pained sides and back. You leap for them, cut the hoses, and turn the regulators on full blast.

Then you throw them down the stairs.

Fuck. You didn't bring a lighter.

A gout of flame leaps up from the stairway, licking the angled concrete ceiling. You hear screaming, cursing, thrashing around.

Oh, that's right, he was smoking down there.

You're not sure you can deal with watching a man burn alive, so you pick your motorcycle up, set it on its kickstand, and wait.

Eventually, the fire stops, but the noises don't.

You look down the steps and see a mess of burnt flesh, half-melted metal, and carbon fiber collapsed at the bottom of them, heaving a bit, and making strange gasping, gurgling sounds.

As if waiting for exactly the right moment, your phone starts ringing.

"MDF Transportation Services," your answer mechanically.

"This is Alice, with Syfer Systems Research," a young female voice says from the other end of the line, "can you give us a situation update? We've lost contact with Greer."

>Write in what she needs to know

Second choice:

>Put the Asset out of his misery
>Leave the Asset to suffer

>>36032942
"Greer is dead, securing the package now."
>>Put the Asset out of his misery

>>36032942
>Write in
>Put the Asset out of his misery
"Your boys got killed by some cyborg here *put a bullet in his head*... he's dead now."

>>36032942
"An Asset came in and murdered Greer's team, Securing package now."
>Put Asset out of his misery

>>36032942
>>Put the Asset out of his misery

Be there soon.

>>36032988
Something like this, though make sure the guy is dead on alll levels, including brain activity

>>36032942
>Write in what she needs to know
"no survivors, sadly, an asset got them
oh, and the prototype might be sliightly damaged because of him"

>Put the Asset out of his misery

>>36032988
>>Put the Asset out of his misery
Supporting this.

>>36032942
>>Put the Asset out of his misery

>>36032942

You walk down the stairs toward the Asset, pistol in hand.

"Greer and his team got taken out by a knife-nut cyborg, probably a corp Asset," you tell Alice, then shoot the cyborg twice in the head, "he's dead now. The package might have been damaged, but I'll secure what's left of it."

"Well," she says, "at least the last part's good news. We'll be expecting you at the coordinates I sent."

Then the line goes dead, and you're left alone with the dead cyborg. Just for good measure, you give his head a few hard kicks with your steel-toed boots. You stop when you see gray. His personal effects are either burnt or melted beyond recognition - nothing of value there.

It looks like he dropped the arm when he jumped at you, so it's virtually undamaged by the fire. You pick it up and put it in your messenger bag.

You think for a few seconds, and then start taking wallets, IDs, and other effects from Greer and his team. You chuck them into the messenger bag too - Syfer will probably want everything anyway.

>Just head to the drop off point
>See if the APCs are still here, check them out if they are
>Write-In

>>36033172
>>Just head to the drop off point
We have no need of an APC.

>>36033172
>Just head to the drop off point

>>36032942

"Greer and his team are dead, killed by some Asset. I dealt with him, though your package was damaged by him."

> Put the Asset out of his misery
"I told you I didn't want any trouble."

>>36023339
>Digital transmission is too advanced to be secure.

And moving at dangerous speeds, while trying to avoid getting shot or some shit by the fuzz and who knows what else is?

Also, if no one knows how the system works, then who maintains it?

>>36033172
>>Just head to the drop off point
this has just been one huge clusterfuck

>>36033172
>Just head to the drop off point
Take the Asset's knife.

>>36033172
>Just head to the drop off point
hurry before backup arrives

>>36033172
>Just head to the drop off point
With how much crap just went down here, we probably just pissed off at least 2 different mega-corps, if not more. Our job's about to get a lot more complicated.

>>36033172
>Just head to the drop off point
Didn't expect this to still be running when I woke up

File: Syfer.jpg (18 KB, 385x292)

18 KB JPG

>>36033172

You're just going to head back to the drop off point and hope nothing else happens.

Today has just been a continual clusterfuck, but the ride back through the dust bowl is enjoyable. The simple, blasted scenery is aesthetic in its own stark way, and you can open up out here without worrying about the cops.

Speaking of which, you're glad that Syfer Systems Research is located in Vulnex's sector. It's more heavily industrial than some of the other sectors, and that translates to stopping at railroad crossings a lot, but going back through Nepcor's turf would be tempting fate at this point.

Syfer's located in a modest tower, one of several consulting firms, each renting a floor or two. They've even got lobby parking for small vehicles, which is wonderful. Considering how much you've had to worry about today, you're happy that you don't have to worry about your bike being stolen during the handoff.

You take the elevator up, floor by floor. Syfer's on the thirteenth. Maybe that explains why everything's been unlucky for you today.

You step out of the elevator on the thirteenth floor into a small lobby with a a few chairs facing a cheap metal desk with muscular receptionist in a bulletproof vest and fatigues. You would bet there's a gun under the desk.

There's a plaque on the wall featuring a ribbon being wound around a stick or something. You're not sure what the significance of that is, and you're not in the mood to care.

"Business?" The guard asks, obviously on alert.

>"I'm the courier"
>"I have an appointment with Alice?"
>"Did somebody here order pizza?"
>Write In

>>36023488
Faggot.

>>36033369
>"I'm the courier"

>>36033369
>>"I'm the courier"

>>36033369
>"I'm the courier"

>>36033369
>"I'm the courier"

>>36033369
"I'm the courier, I have an appointment with someone named Alice."

>>36033369
>>"I'm the courier.
Also, did someone order a pizza? 'Cause I'm hungry."

File: WHERE'S YOUR WHITE RABBIT NOW.jpg (43 KB, 468x781)

43 KB JPG

>>36033369
No funny business this time. You're far too tired for that, and it's barely noon.

"I'm the courier," you say, "Alice should be expecting me."

The guard looks at you, at his laptop, and back at you, then motions for you to take your helmet off.

You comply, and he compares the images again, then keys a code into a keypad on his desk. The door into the office proper unlocks, and you step through.

It's a confusing jumble of cables, server racks and tables covered in cables and server racks. Whiteboards filled with cryptic writing, equations, and code snippets cover the walls.

"You must be the courier," Alice says from beside you. You're not sure how you missed her, since glasses-wearing blondes in sharp suits don't look like cables, server racks, or whiteboards - damn but you're tired.

"Alice, I assume?" you ask, swinging the messenger bag around to the front, "I picked up Greer's team's effects, too, if you want them."

"Thank you," she says, smiling, "let me just find somewhere to put them." You're pretty sure the smile was a sort of polite payment to you for your thoughtfulness, not glee at Greer's demise. But who ever knows with these people.

Eventually you put the stuff into an old printer-paper box, until it can be sorted through later.

And now it's time for the main event. Alice guides you into another room, where a clear spot has been prepared on a table. There's a plastic sheet laid down and a selection of surgical implements spread out beside it.

"Well," you say, as you place the arm carefully on the plastic sheet, "there you are. You'll wire me the rest of the payment now?"

"Of course," Alice says, pecking away at a tablet, "but I'm also authorized to double your entire payment, since you ran into significantly more trouble than expected."

>Decline - "I just did what we contracted for"
>Accept - "Thanks. It did get pretty crazy."
>Decline - "I'm more interested in why the arm's so special"
>Write In

>>36033551
>>Accept - "Thanks. It did get pretty crazy."
This probably won't negatively effect our reputation in any way, and more money is always good.

>>36033551
>Accept - "Thanks. It did get pretty crazy."
"Thanks for the tip."

>>36033551
>>Decline - "I'm more interested in why the arm's so special"
HE COMES

>>36033551
>Decline - "I just did what we contracted for"
Lets be cool about this.

>>36033551
>I just did what we contracted for, but I am interested in why the arm's so special

>that picture

Muh dick.

>>36033560
>>36033562
>>36033575
Anons, are we, as players, going to care about the money when we can't spend it on anything? We'd be better off knowing just who we fucked over and who will be sending insane cyborgs after us.

>>36033585
Who says we can't spend it?

>>36033580
>zip up suit jacket
>shit taste identified.

>>36033551
>Accept - "Thanks. It did get pretty crazy."

>>36033551
>Decline - "I just did what we contracted for"

>>36033585
>Anons, are we, as players, going to care about the money when we can't spend it on anything?
Seems like the most IC thing to do
>We'd be better off knowing just who we fucked over and who will be sending insane cyborgs after us.
As a matter of fact, no. We are better off not knowing. Asking about it is prying into the customer's business, which is decidedly more unhealthy.

>>36033551
>Decline - "I just did what we contracted for"
Wonder if we can meet her after the job.

>>36033593
Shit, you're right.

I blame the pose and the glasses for distracting my dick.

>>36033551
>>Accept - "Thanks. It did get pretty crazy."

>>36033603
Well, to be fair it is a potently sexy combo.

>>36033551

"I just held up my end of the bargain," you tell her, "and I only expect you to do what we agree on."

She looks at you for a second over her glasses, a little skeptically. "Well," she says, tapping on the tablet again, "Greer certain made a good call when he got you involved. Killed an Asset and didn't even ask for a bonus. I'll definitely mention you anytime someone needs a courier," she smiles, "after how today went, that probably sounds more pleasant than an offer of repeat business from us."

>Actually, I haven't had this much excitement in a while
>Well, I might have to negotiate a better fee up front next time, or put an Asset Elimination Bonus in my standard boilerplate
>Smile and admit she's right

>>36033669
>>Well, I might have to negotiate a better fee up front next time, or put an Asset Elimination Bonus in my standard boilerplate

>>36033669
>Actually, I haven't had this much excitement in a while

>>36033669
>forgetting my trip again

So 6PM to 5AM+ QMing is rough, ladies and gentlemen.

I think we've only got another few posts left in this one, though.

>>36033669
>Well, I might have to negotiate a better fee up front next time, or put an Asset Elimination Bonus in my standard boilerplate

>>36033669
>Actually, I haven't had this much excitement in a while
"I could get used to having someone as pretty as you contracting me, excitement in the job and excitement out of the job."

>>36033700
>>36033669
Kek.
This.

>>36033700
no

>>36033700
>>36033706
/u/boats go and stay go, pls

>>36033669
>>Well, I might have to negotiate a better fee up front next time, or put an Asset Elimination Bonus in my standard boilerplate
Or you could tell me why a corp would mobilize a small army of drones and an Asset to reclaim that thing. It'd be reassuring to know his coworkers won't be coming after me.

>>36033717
seconding

>>36033669
>Actually, I haven't had this much excitement in a while
With a non-serious second to >>36033700

>>36033669
>Actually, I haven't had this much excitement in a while

>>36033710
Yeah, should check up on the security guard instead.

>>36033745
Yeah no.

>>36033745
FeMC X Motorbike all the way

>>36033760
Like that chick in Golden Boy?

>>36033669

"Actually," you say, "I haven't had this much excitement ina while. I might enjoy another job like this."

Alice raises her eyebrows at you, and looks like she's about to say something, but you cut her off: "I might have to negotiate a better fee up front next time, or put an Asset Elimination Bonus in my standard boilerplate, though."

She laughs. "Well, I'm sure we can come to terms when the time comes. Is this transfer satisfactory?" she asks, holding the tablet up for you to see the bank transfer statement.

"Looks good," you say, and then your eye falls on the arm resting on the table.

>I do have one more question, though... (Ask about the arm, and who else wanted it.)
>Don't bother asking

>>36033717
This is the only write in worth anything imo, +1

>>36033760
She already uses its old parts as sex toys, apparently.

>>36033771
Everyone jump onto the choo-choo-train
>I do have one more question, though... (Ask about the arm, and who else wanted it.)

>>36033771
>Don't bother asking
We're just a courier, best not to know

>>36033781
Hawhaw, wow I didn't even see that.

>>36033771
>I do have one more question, though... (Ask about the arm, and who else wanted it.)

Are there going to be more votes, or should I just write from the three I've got?

(I actually don't care one way or the other about this decision, I just want to make sure you're getting a chance to ask, or not ask, everything you might want to.)

>>36033862
For me, it would be nice to know and only that. Sure if someone comes over and attacks us over it then yeah, we'll need to know more, but now it's fine.

>>36033862
We're already obviously involved with the arm from the perspective of anyone whose toes we stepped on this morning.

It can't hurt to know what it is we're fighting for.

>>36033862
I would honestly willingly forgo the pay to know what the hell was up with this job.

>>36033908
You're a bad runner and you should feel bad

>>36033908
>merc doing job
>forgoing pay

Look at this and laugh. But really, the only job we do for free should be a personal job. I mean, look at our bonus for this job, not cash but rep. We get more jobs from this corp.

>>36033947
>merc
>not courier
>being paid to fight shit
>not being paid to GTFO as quickly as physically possible

I would prefer to know what's coming and how to avoid it than expect to survive an ambush by the people behind this.

Not going to argue a fat paycheck isn't nice though...

File: Arm.png (467 KB, 1151x577)

467 KB PNG

>>36033771

"I do have one more question, though," you say, looking at the arm, "what's so special about it? Who's after it?"

"Oh," Alice responds, "the arm? There's nothing special about the arm," she tells you, picking up a couple of the tools and going to work on the augment, "it's what's inside that counts," she finishes, pulling a small data drive out of a sliced-open artificial muscle pack.

You just stare at her.

"Anticlimactic?" she asks, "I know, it is. We're not even sure what's on here, yet. But anything hidden this well has to be important."

"Why were there so many people after it?" you ask, still shocked.

"The high winds in the storm last night scoured the dust off those ruins in the small hours of the morning," she tells you, "so it was a race to get the good stuff. You'd know more than I would about who was after it - after all, you saw them. If you're wondering about the Asset, any good information broker should be able to give you a line from your description. If he was important, they might pay decently for the info on his death."

"Thanks," you say, "it's been interesting working with you."

"I look forward to doing it again," she tells you, as she walks you back to the office door.

You're too fried to do anything but go home and rest. So you do.

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>>36033987
And so we live to ride another day.
Do you have any plans for how long this quest will run, Haiku?

>>36033987
>You're too fried to do anything but go home and rest. So you do.
"Rest."
Yes...

>>36033987
>You're too fried to do anything but go home and rest.
Well, she has had a long day, even if it's only halfway over.

So just what are assets anyway? Super powered cyborg assassins of the corps?

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>>36033987
>and with that, we're done for this morning

It's been fun running. Hope you all enjoyed it as well.

Questions, comments, suggestions are always welcome.

Twitter (for quest-related announcements, not my political views): https://twitter.com/HaikuDeluge

Quest archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Cyberpunk%20Motorcycle%20Courier%20Quest


SESSION STATS:

Phone Numbers Obtained: Greer, Alice (stored in Recent Calls)
Delivery Completed: Oh God, Here Comes The Arm
Bonus Objectives Fulfilled: Stylin' On A Cop II; Bucket of Bolts; Everybody's Dead, Dave; A Pain In the Asset

Bonus Objectives Missed: Just In Time; What Happened Here?; Shafted!

>>36034074
Can you actually tell us what these objectives mean?

>>36034074
>Shafted
Was that the sex option with the robot dude?

>>36034074
>Shafted!
The asset following up on "paying for our services"?

>>36034099
That makes far more sense than I'd care to admit.

>>36034009
>how long will this run

Until my life means that I can't block multi-hour periods of time for questing anymore. This may lead to a hiatus in December, if everything's still going by then.

If circumstance allow, this may ran considerably longer than Rock Quest. I feel that there's a lot more depth to be gotten out of this concept.

>>36034069
>Assets

Corp agents who are really, really good at what they do, or otherwise special in some way. It's an inaccurate slang term that originally meant something valuable to a corp, but has morphed since passing into common usage.

It's also a play off of the business quote “Our people are our most important asset”.

>>36034092
For the fulfilled ones, sure. Which do you want to know? But half the fun of the missed ones is watching your theories.

I will say this - all current missed objectives are still obtainable, given the right circumstances.

>>36034099
>>36034127
>>36034131
Unfortunately not even close. You'll get chances at this one pretty frequently, though.


>General Question

Are you guys more interested in a series of fairly unconnected jobs held together by recurring characters, or are you interested in an overarching plot?

>Bonus question

What is my corp naming theme?

>>36034170
>Unfortunately not even close. You'll get chances at this one pretty frequently, though.
Slightly confused, does this mean we'll get a second chance at obtaining that objective, or that we can obtain a robo husbando in later threads?

>>36034170
>overarching plot

>>36034170
>Are you guys more interested in a series of fairly unconnected jobs held together by recurring characters, or are you interested in an overarching plot?
I like the episodic style, but I wouldn't be averse to stuff connecting into an overarching plot towards the end. Kind of like a modern Doctor Who season.

>What is my corp naming theme?
Nepcor, Syfer System Research; have any other corporations been named this thread? I think I'll need more examples to have a shot at figureing anything out.

>>36034222
>corp naming theme
matrix?

>>36034193
At obtaining that objective, sorry.

That said, you have not yet seen even a fraction of the husbando buffet.

>>36034222
Nepcor, Juptek, Vulnex, IIRC. Those are the big corps.

However, two of those have only been mentioned once.

>connecting into an overarching plot

Several show have done that, including the X-files and Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex. It would be interesting to do, but I'm not sure if I could pull it off correctly.

>>36033214
This response is late, but I'll post it anyway.

>this crazy shit is secure?

Not really, but it's easier to keep a handle on. Would you rather beam information through the air, where anyone and their dog could sniff it and decrypt it, or send it through servers and wires you don't control (which are probably monitored and tapped, and copying all your secret for whoever owns them), or give it to an agent you can at least keep track of by their wake of chaos?

And if someone offs them and takes your stuff, it'll be a big enough scene that have some clues about who has your stuff, and who to shoot to get it back.

>if no one knows, who maintains it?

Point. I should probably reword that more clearly. But do you know, right now, every server your data is going through to reach me? Do you know who controls them, and which ones log that data, and who has access?

Everyone maintains their own little piece, but nobody has a good grasp on the whole itself, much like the modern internet.

Of course, all of this is an exaggeration and a pastiche. It's an excuse to ride a motorbike at dangerous speeds and set cyborg on fire. But you can see where I'm coming from, right?

>>36034269
For what it's worth, the phrase "husbando buffet" is facetious, and does not imply that there will be male characters who exist solely to embody desirable characteristics and be LIs.

Goodnight.

>>36034269
>Several show have done that, including the X-files and Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex. It would be interesting to do, but I'm not sure if I could pull it off correctly.
It's a pretty cheap/easy way to create an illusion of a coherent plot. Leave a clue here and a hint there, then wrap everything up at the end and claim it was all according to plan.

>>36034286
Thanks for running dude, this quest looks like it's going places.

>>36034269
>What is my corp naming theme?
>Nepcor, Juptek, Vulnex
planets and/or roman gods?

>>36034770
Neptune, Jupiter, Vulcan. Makes sense.

>>36034269
Ah, good points. I'll continue lurking now that I can enjoy the show.