>>36745667
Well, you're hardly perfect relationship material yourself Laura, gosh.

>>36745739
She is PERFECT relationship material.

>>36745739
Considering she had nanobots growing in her body, i think she can be cut some slack on the mental front for a while.

File: The Red Phone.jpg (25 KB, 600x374)

25 KB JPG

>>36745667

Giving your bike one last look, you open the door out of the workshop. The most obvious change is the replaced seat, but that was necessary dues to the Seed infection. Maybe it's more comfortable.

As you walk down the hallway, bare feet against the smooth linoleum, you pull out the red phone. It's finely-crafted, much nicer than anything you'd have bought yourself.

Red alligator leather accents on what might be a titanium case. Definitely too light to be steel. Buttons. No smudging the wrong option on a touchscreen.

You wonder casually how much the designer was paid for the plans as you bring it to life. The sleek lines of the design are definitely worth more than the ostentatious materials.

Same password the old one had. They must have skimmed your old phone.

>CALL HISTORY
>TEXT MESSAGES
>CONTACT LIST

B-but think what will happen to her nanomachines!

>>36745908
>CONTACT LIST

Let's see if they're something new/missing.

>>36745908
>>TEXT MESSAGES

>>36745908
>CALL HISTORY
>TEXT MESSAGES
>CONTACT LIST

Uh, seriously though, why not all? I mean, if only one before interruption or something, then I guess I'll prioritize

>CALL HISTORY

>>36745908
>TEXT MESSAGES

File: Thanks To The Anon Who Ma(...).jpg (45 KB, 1024x768)

45 KB JPG

>>36745908
>META POST

Oh boy, Laura's back. And hopefully I have time to make this a worthwhile thread.

>LINKS

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

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

%20Courier%20Quest

Megacorps & Locations: http://pastebin.com/e0ZjmVJL
(More info pastebins should come eventually. There are too many moving parts to keep track of otherwise.)

Questions: http://ask.fm/haikudeluge

>LAST SESSION'S STATS:
PROFESSIONAL RANKING: BANKED
BONUS OBJECTIVES CLEARED: All-Natural; Red Queen I; Sinking Feeling; Better Not Be Talking 'Bout My Bike; Matt; It's Getting Hot In Here
STYLE POINTS: 700

OVERALL RANKING: BOISTEROUSLY BANKED!


TOTAL STYLE POINTS: 7200

>>36746004
ooh, Haiku, I have a question that is in no way related the decision being made right now. Are you planning on doing a Christmas episode of CMC or a separate Christmas quest in the future?

>>36745908
>CONTACT LIST

>>36745908


The first thing that grabs you is the date. You've been out for weeks, and the phone's telling you you've missed a ton of calls, and haven't read any messages.

But you want to make sure your contact list is in order. You worked hard for some of those.

Flicking through the contacts list is the work of a few seconds. It looks about the same as it did last time you checked it - everyone's still there, even Ryan.

You wonder idly how the security guard's doing. His life as live-in muscle is probably a lot less exciting than your high-speed existence.

There are a couple of extra entries, though. One's merely titled 'R.Q.', and the other 'Concierge'.

Huh. Maybe you'll have to try calling them at some point, you think, pushing open a likely-looking door at the end of the hallway.

It opens into a cozy kitchen, floored in the ever-present linoleum, featuring a card table with four folding chairs, set opposite an range/oven combo, a refrigerator, and a sink.

Matt's slicing up something green on a cutting board, shirt nearly falling off his chiseled frame, and smiles at you as you enter.

The text messages are your next priority, and you settle yourself into one of the chairs to peruse them.

And keep an eye on the mechanic. To make sure he doesn't slip something into your food, not because he's giving you quite a show.

Well, he is giving you quite a show, and it puts a smile on your face as you read through the text messages.

>>36746858

'Sorry about the complications on the rescue,' the oldest one reads. Paul. 'Would you accept dinner as an apology?'

Well, riding straight into a shooting war between two merc groups wasn't what he sold the job as, and you didn't exactly have anything else planned for today. Maybe that one goes on the back burner. Another day's waiting shouldn't make much difference to a man who sent a message like that three weeks ago.

'I...' the next one begins. Eliza. 'we kinda need to talk. Are you ok? Did something happen?'

There are others too, each betraying more and more agitation in your pink-haired friend. Seems like she's pretty worried about you. Maybe you should call her, you think, as you sneak another look at the mechanic-turned chef, who's cracking egg after egg into a bowl.

'Hey, Laura,' the next one begins. Arty, you read, and wonder who on earth he is. 'I've got some time off coming up, ya want to go somewhere nicer than Sadie's?'

Oh, right. The miner you met the morning of that crazy job. The one who predicted that anything found in the vault would be infested with the Seeds. The one who managed to stay awake after his friends' heads had hit the table.

Well, he was right. Maybe you owe him for the info.

Speaking of info, there's a very apologetic message from Thomson. Of course, it's an apology for his conduct while wasted, not for setting you up to run a nanoplague-infected package stolen from Plutonix into Vulnex territory.

'I hope I didn't get too grabby,' in-fucking-deed, you think, pondering the movement of Matt's muscles as he flips whatever he's making in the frying pan.

Still, it's tempting to brave Plutonix sector again, if only to give its info broker the telling-off he so richly deserves.

Oh, and there's a simple automated message from your bank, telling you that your one-time set has expired and you need to drop by and pick up another set before you can use your phone for transactions again.

>Which do you want to follow up on?

>>36746893
>Which do you want to follow up on?
Eliza
she's really worried and our friend, that's a priority, no?

>>36746893
>>Which do you want to follow up on?
Call Eliza.

>>36746989
>>36746955
No, no. We should call Beth.

>>36747087
Faggot, we need to talk to Lisa.

You folks are all wrong, we should call Elisabeth.

>>36746893
Eliza, then bank

>>36746955
This

Sorry, things have come up.

Significant delay.

>>36749010
I hadn't noticed

>>36749010
Guess all that time I spent looking for Waiting On OP and OP Is Dead pics was wasted.

>>36749010
No worries OP

Bump

>>36749010
No worries op, well try and keep the thread alive

Dead thread is dead...

>>36750575
ded thread
ded QM
ded shota

bump

>>36750613
No, not the shota!
Now we'll never have delicious ss!

>>36746893

Eliza's been your friend for years, and she's worried about you. You owe her a call at least.

Although last time you talked to her, someone tried to triangulate your position. Probably from her end.

Maybe with her consent.

You wish you knew which corp she works for now, and whether you're on their list, you think as you glance at the food prep again. But Matt's slicing up something else now - it looks like breakfast's going to be a big affair. He's humming a tune, not one you recognize.

The smell coming from his preparations isn't one you recognize either, but it's delicious.

But it looks like you can't use the food going on the table as an excuse to put off the call.

So you tell the phone to dial Eliza, and put it to your ear.

Nothing.

You wait a few seconds, for a dial tone, a ring, anything.

Still nothing.

You feel oddly abandoned, as if something you were waiting for just isn't coming.

Then you peel the phone away from your ear, and look at the screen. There's a popup window on it, flashing fetching shades of red.

USE PROXY WALL?
>YES
>NO
>[ ] REMEMBER MY CHOICE FOR THIS CONTACT

>>36751205
>YES

>>36751205
>>YES
Best to not have it be traceable.

>>36751205
>>YES

>>36751205
>>YES
>>[x] REMEMBER MY CHOICE FOR THIS CONTACT
Time to shadowrun.

>>36751205
>YES
This choice is so obvious, it almost feels like a trap

>>36751205
>YES
how convenient

File: Elizabeth.jpg (170 KB, 500x667)

170 KB JPG

Fuck.

A proxy wall? This is high-grade corp level stuff, giving any attempt to locate your phone from the other end of the connection a random location within the corp's network of switchboards.

You aren't sure how it works, but you've heard that its one of the best tools a mobile agent can have in their arsenal.

Of course, the corp switching the signal is going to be listening into everything, but they probably were already.

Whoever gave you this thing has some serious pull, you think, gazing at Matt. The mechanic is stirring something emphatically in a smaller frying pan over a high flame, droplets of oil flying onto his bare skin.

There's a spicy note in the air as you tell the phone to prevent Eliza from tracing any call between the two of you.

After you give it the answer, it flips straight to dialing.

One ring.

"Laura?" she asks, breathless, "you're alive? You're alright?"

>Write In

>>36751446
"Sorry about hanging up before Eliza, where were we again?"
"Something about rich corp CEO boyfriends wasn't it?"

>>36751446
>Write In
Say sorry for abruptly hanging up on her and ask her which corp she works for.

>>36751446
"yeah, but that was a close call"
"so, what were we talking about last time already..."

>>36751446
"Sorry about hanging up so suddenly and not returning your texts. I've been a little busy recently."

>>36751446
"Yeah still alive. Now, about our previous call being hacked... I think you owe me an explanation."

>>36751446

"Sorry about hanging up on you before," you say, "a job got really complicated."

"Complicated enough it took you weeks to get back to me?" she says, her voice almost frantic.

"I've been pretty busy recently," you return, eyeing Matt's muscles as he rubs the excess oil from whatever he's cooking onto them. You're not sure you've ever seen a chef do that before, "now where were we before? Something about high-ranking corp boyfriends?"

"High-ranking corp boyfriends?" she asks, indignant, and you hold the phone of few inches away from your ear, "Lorry," damn, it's been a long time since she used that pet name for you, "I thought you were DEAD! I can't lose so many people all at once!"

>I thought I was dead!
>So many?
>Why'd you think I was dead?
>If you must know, I was afraid of getting traced again
>Write In

>>36752140
>I thought I was dead!
>So many?

>>36752140
>thought I was dead!
>So many?

>>36752140
>I thought I was dead!
>So many?

>>36752140
>I thought I was dead!
>...
>Why'd you think I was dead?

>>36752140
>>So many?
>>Why'd you think I was dead?

>>36752140
I thought I was dead

>>36752140
>>I thought I was dead!
>>Why'd you think I was dead?

File: Elizabeth-7.jpg (1.82 MB, 1200x1600)

1.82 MB JPG

>>36752140

"I thought I was dead too," you say, deadpan, "laid up in a hospital for a while. At least, I think I was - I don't remember much after the accident."

But your mind's racing. 'So many'? Did Eliza lose someone else recently?

"I'm sorry," she tells you, sighing, "how bad was the crash?"

"The worst," you say, "they were picking pieces out of me for forever. Did you lose someone else?"

There's silence along the line. The sizzle of frying and Matt's humming are all you can hear. Of course, the scent of food is even more tempting now, and you catch yourself wondering whether you want it to go on the table more because you want to eat it, or because you just want this silence to end.

When you catch yourself counting the flowers on the off-white wallpaper, it's probably time to speak your mind or forever hold your peace.

And your mind is an abused and roiling vortex still trying to wake up from its extended chemical-enforced sleep.

>Stay silent
>Was it the corp boyfriend?
>Did I kill him?
>Write In

>>36752453
>Stay silent

>>36752453
>Did I kill him?

>>36752453
Was it the corp boyfriend?
I really like the idea of Beth and qui being an item and then us fucking it up

>>36752453
>I'm sorry

>>36752453
>>Did I kill him?

>>36752453
"i'm sorry"

>>36752453
>>Was it the corp boyfriend?
>>Did I kill him?

Along with
>>I'm sorry
If the conversation has gotten that far yet.

>>36752453
>Stay silent

>>36752453
>>Did I kill him?

>>36752453

Sometimes you need to shake the glass before everything settles into place.

And your glass has been shaken and stirred.

The only group with a good reason to be after you was Dagon Core, you remember as you stare across the kitchen. And their reason was personal.

You killed one of them.

You killed an Asset, and two days later, you got traced and your phone got triangulated. It's as simple as that, once you look at it the right way.

And if Beth was making the call - if Beth made the call then she was part of Dagon Core too.

You're lucky you didn't drop the phone.

"Beth," you say, low, controlled, you don't trust your voice right now, "was it the corp boyfriend?"

More silence, a couple of deep breaths on the other end of the line. Matt's stopped humming, but you barely notice.

"Yes," she finally says, voice strained and escalating, "yes, and -"

"Beth," you cut her statement off at the knees. You can't let her finish it in one go, "did I kill him?"

"Yes," she tells you, and there's a sob in there somewhere. Matt's stopped cooking, and he's looking out the window over the sink.

Except there isn't a window over the sink. He's looking where it would be.

"Beth," you say, trying to get it out to her before she snaps, "Beth, I'm sorry."

>I didn't know who he was to you
>He was standing in a room of dead guys, and tried to kill me
>It was just business
>You want to hear his last words?
>Write In

>>36752916
>Say nothing

>>36752916
>He was standing in a room of dead guys, and tried to kill me
>I didn't know who he was to you
>You want to hear his last words?

>>36752916
>>36752958
This

>>36752958
hold on, what were his last words already?
if it's something stupid, it's maybe not a good idea

>>36752916
All of these options look like traps.

Weren't his last words some sexual threat?

>>36752916
>He was standing in a room of dead guys, and tried to kill me

Just a note, these were his last words.
"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."

>>36752916
>You want to hear his last words?

>>36753059
So she was into him because he was a funny guy, maybe?

>>36752916
I didn't know who he was to you and he was trying to kill me.

>>36752916
>>Write In
"I didn't want to kill him, but he left me no choice. It was him or me."

>>36753059
actually, his last words were probably a mix of pain cries and swearings

>>36752916
>He was standing in a room of dead guys, and tried to kill me

>>36753122
Those would be his last words.
>You hear screaming, cursing, thrashing around.

But his last noises were
> strange gasping, gurgling sounds.

>>36752958
Supporting this.

File: Qui, The (self-titled) Yo(...).jpg (194 KB, 600x1300)

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>>36752916

"He was standing over my dead client," you tell her, and it all comes rushing out, "in a room full of dead guys, cracking jokes. And then he tried to kill me."

You wish you were on a motorcycle right now, speeding down the road. It would give you the confidence you desperately feel you need.

Because you think you made the right call, but you're not sure Beth's gonna think that.

"I didn't know who he was to you," you continue, "I didn't know he had anything to do with you at all. It was him or me, Beth, you know what that's like, don't you?"

"And it's always 'me' with you, isn't it?" she asks, cutting across you before you can get another word out, then letting the accusation float through the airwaves, a looming cloud.

Now that you think about it, you don't she knows what 'him or me' is like. Not like you do.

"Beth," you say, voice low, "you want to hear what I remember of his last words? It's the least I can do for you."

"Yeah," she tells you "that is the least you could do for me, and for him."

Of course, your memories are a bit fuzzy, you think, as you realize Matt's left the room, leaving the range turned off. You can't see the food either.

Can't say you blame him either.

>He died with a joke on his lips
>He said he'd use me for pleasure, and he was a courier who delivered pain
>He died choking and gurgling in a fire
>He died choking and gurgling in a fire, and it served him right
>Write In

>>36753510
>>He died with a joke on his lips

>>36753510
>>He died with a joke on his lips

>>36753510
>He died with a joke on his lips

>>36753510
>....so what you rather I'd let him kill me?
>a joke on his lips

>>36753510
>He died with a joke on his lips

>>36753510
>would you rather I'd let him kill me?

>>36753510
>He said he'd use me for pleasure, and he was a courier who delivered pain

>>36753510

>He died with a joke on his lips
>>would you rather I'd let him kill me?

>>36753510
>too bad

>>36753510
>you rather I'd let him kill me?

>>36753510
You know what, can we just tell her exactly what he said verbatim?

>"Oh man, 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, I deliver surprises."

>>36753889
I second this idea.

Supporting

>>36753889

>>36753889
Sure, this.

>>36753510

"He died with a joke on his lips," you tell her. No need to say what kind of joke it was, or what the exchange before it had been like.

There are some things nobody ever wants to hear about their lover.

The truth dies quietly, and Eliza starts crying. There's nothing you can do through the phone.

If you were next to her, you think, slumping forward onto the card table, you could take her hand, or hold her, or something.

But all you can send from here are words. And it's so much easier to hurt than heal with words.

"Beth," you ask as she sobs into the phone, "would you rather I'd let him kill me?"

So much easier.

It's a cruel question, but you were the one he threatened, You were up against an aug'd Asset, and you survived on your wits alone.

And now you have to deal with this over it? Might have been better to get killed - this is like getting your heart ripped out, and you're letting it happen, you're letting it happen because you had the bad luck to have to kill this fucker.

"Yes," you hear half-sobbed through the phone, and then she's screaming, "yes dammit! I loved him, and he was genuine but he tried, he was always trying harder, to be good, to be the best, and he wanted me there beside him, and we were going to do it, climb the ladder together!" she barely pauses for breath, then goes back in again, "not throwing each other down to get higher! I loved him, and you killed him!"

Suddenly, her voice is gone.

"What did you do to Eliza?" it asks.

Hard, masculine. A voice that breaks other voices.

>Write In

>META POST
>>36753889
>>36753902
>>36753912
>>36753939

Sorry, I was on my polishing pass on >>36753962 when I saw this.

Laura doesn't have a perfect memory (and what she does have has been through a lot lately), so I offered skewed recollections.

>>36753962
Told her her boyfriends last words and asked her a question. I assume you're her boss and leader of Dagon Core?

>>36753962
"I told her the truth."

And then hang up because there's nothing left for this conversation besides more pain for Eliza.

>>36753962
Tried to cover the truth with a sweet lie I suppose, who is this?

>>36754001
this

>>36753962
maybe a bit harsh, but good enough >>36754001

>>36753962
>cry and hang up

>>36754001
>>36754013
Not sure if Laura is composed enough to be this chill.

>>36754117
Anesthetics are a wonderful thing, anon.

>>36754117
Laura is always able to be chill. It is her way of coping.

>>36754001
Supporting this one.

>>36754117
She Changing a painful conversation, her friend's reaction is going to more than likely piss her off a little and this guy screwed us over. Vent time. I want him to get pissy about his man then we throw the fact he attacked us with no provocation after we made it clear we had no intention of fighting in his face.

>>36754136
I don't recall her being under anesthesia. Care to explain?

>>36753962
"Nothing but the truth."

>>36753962
>Ask Matt for a strong drink

>>36753962
>Being a jerk to my best friend

While we're not in the wrong and she was also being a jerk, admitting it to this guy is probably a good move to make sure they don't try and kill us again.

File: Raynard-1.jpg (505 KB, 1200x1600)

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>>36753962

"Told her her boyfriend's last words and asked a simple question," you tell him, angry at the intrusion, "who are you, her father?"

You realize a few seconds after you ask that he's probably her boss. Or a co-worker.

At Dagon Core, an in-house merc crew for one of the four megas.

The slightly-textured top of the card table itches slightly against your face.

"Raynard Eriksson," he says, in the voice of a man who's shot all his problems in the head, "her boss. And I don't take kindly to anyone making my subordinates cry."

"Oh," you say lazily, confident in the proxy wall, "the leader of Dagon Core, aren't you? I just told an old friend the truth."

"What the hell is truth?" he shouts at you, "and what good is it if it makes an 'old friend' cry like that?"

>Write In

>>36754288
Hey man I did what I did because I had to to stay alive, you understand me? You wanna know what Qui actually said to me before he threw himself at me with that blade of his? He said "Oh man, 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, I deliver surprises." I was a no name courier with barely enough income to keep an apartment going, and this asset covered in blood says that and starts freaking flying towards me. What would you have done in my position?

Now look, you've got no reason to come after me apart from vengenance over a fiasco I would've avoided if I had any idea it was going to happen. Is it really to much to ask for you to just leave me be?

>>36754288
"If you want, I can tell her the whole truth about just how much of a bastard Qui was in his last moments."

>>36754288
That her boyfriend attacked after he had what he wanted and I made it clear I wanted no trouble. She was pissed I chose myself over her love. I'd be a lot more sympathetic if her boyfriend hasn't tried to gut me and she hadn't set me up. She's a sweet girl but she's never had to fight to live. Now are you and yours going to keep after me? I didn't do what I did for fun. I am a courier I take thing s from point A to point B as fast as possible and get paid. I defend myself if I get attacked, that is all.

>>36754334
With some sort of addendum about how since we're an Old Friend that we chose to not do this to her.

>>36754288
>Write In
Start yelling, "You think I want her to cry? I'd give anything to be next to her right now, even if she killed me for it. And the truth isn't good. The truth is I walked into a room to pick up a package and your man was standing over my dead client. I didn't know who he was, or what he meant to those I cared about. All he said was that I wasn't leaving alive, and I'm sure you wouldn't have laid down and died without a fight either. It was me or him, and I know what you know what that's like."

>>36754329
>>36754334
>>36754336
>>36754423
I like all of these

>>36754288
From the moment she picked up the phone, it could have only ended in tears, no matter what I said.

File: Lu Bu.jpg (126 KB, 1280x720)

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So how is this write-in going to work exactly?
There's no way you're going to fit all of these in without creating a massive wall of text

>>36754489
Whoops sorry for name

>>36754498
Maybe HD could just copy and paste it all, and just write in the response? He'd have to edit it a bit to make not be incredibly jarring though.

>>36754498
I figure he'll choose what is most liked/most suited/the best he can work with.

>>36754288

"If you want," you tell him, voice carefully level, "I can tell her the whole truth about how much of jerk he was when he tried to gut me. He killed my contact, and he was coming fo rme too, even though he already had the package. I wanted no trouble. I had no idea who he was, or who he was to her, just that he was trying to kill me. And she just told me I should have died instead, just become another body at his bloody feet so they could climb the ladder together."

Silence from Raynard. You can still hear Eliza sobbing in the background.

"Hug her for me," you say, "I'd give a lot to be there for her now, even if she did set me up with the trace."

The sobbing's louder now, the phone closer to Eliza now. It's not like being there, but it's the next best thing.

This isn't the start you wanted for your new life, but better to get this out of the way, you think as you listen to your friend sob in Raynard's arms.

Then your phone beeps, you drop it and go grabbing for it on the linoleum, the word 'transfer' flashing across its screen. When you have it back against your ear, you can't hear Eliza anymore.

"She's a sweet girl," Raynard tells you, his voice coming through with better quality, "she broke down after the trace," he says lightly, "and when we heard you'd died, she did it again, worse."

That's, well, it's heartening, but can you really trust this guy? Matt pokes his head in, takes one glance at your phone, and leaves while you think.

"She's a great rider too," Raynard continues, after letting his words sink in, "but it seems like she's never had to truly fight to live. Not like me. Not like Qui. Not like you, I'm guessing."

"You get it," you say. This is a topic you can get on, "don't you. I'm a courier. I take things from point A to point B as fast as possible and get paid. I defend myself if I get attacked."

"So what is the truth?" he asks, suddenly sounding tired, "tell me about Qui's death."

File: Raynard-3.jpg (436 KB, 645x911)

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>>36754875

You do, and this time you don't leave anything out. Anything you remember, at least. You're not sure how good your memory is right now.

That desperate struggle seems like forever ago, but you drag out as much of it as you can manage for the megacorp exec.

"Thank you," he finally says when you finish, "I can see why you didn't tell her."

"Now look," you respond. You've earned something with this recital, "you've got no reason to come after me apart from vengeance over a fiasco I would've avoided if I had any idea it was going to happen. Can you just leave me be?"

"It's not me you should worry about," he says, "not unless you're right in front of me. I won't hunt you, but I've got subordinates who might."

Then he cuts the connection, and you're left slumped on the card table, your phone asking you whether you'd like to save a new number.

>You've got places to be - motorcycle time
>Call in Matt - time to eat
>Call in Matt - you need a drink, then some food
>Sit here until Matt come in - you need some time to yourself after that
>Write In

Second choice:

>Save 'RAYNARD ERIKSSON: OFFICE'
>Do not save 'RAYNARD ERIKSSON: OFFICE'

>>36754897
>Call in Matt - time to eat


>Save 'RAYNARD ERIKSSON: OFFICE'

>>36754897
>Call in Matt - time to eat

>Save 'RAYNARD ERIKSSON: OFFICE'

>>36754897
>Call in Matt - time to eat
>Save 'RAYNARD ERIKSSON: OFFICE'

>>36754897
>Sit here until Matt come in - you need some time to yourself after that
>Save 'RAYNARD ERIKSSON: OFFICE'

>>36754897
>Call in Matt - time to eat
>Save 'RAYNARD ERIKSSON: OFFICE'

Gotta keep all these numbers!

>>36754498

So, did I do it? Wasn't sure I'd pull it off myself.

>>36754897
>>Call in Matt - time to eat
We've just regained conciousness after a month of surgery, we need the solid food.

>Save 'RAYNARD ERIKSSON: OFFICE'
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. We'll figure out which one Eriksson is in due course.

>>36754923
You did good

>>36754897
>Sit here until Matt come in - you need some time to yourself after that

>Save 'RAYNARD ERIKSSON: OFFICE'
but maybe we should save him under "Elisa's dad"

>>36754923
Not that anon but yes, you did. Also happy that my suggestion got used almost verbatim.

>>36754923
I'd say you did an excellent job there, HD. Got most all the content of the write-ins and kept the tone consistent. Bravo.

>>36754923
Quality right there good show.

>>36754897
>Call in Matt - you need a drink, then some food
>Save 'RAYNARD ERIKSSON: OFFICE'

Goddamn I want to break into Nepcor and hug the crap out of Eliza, and just sit down on a expensive leather couch while she cries on us.

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>>36754897

"Matt," you call out as you tell your phone to save Raynard's number - never know when things like that will come in handy, "I'm done with the call."

You hear steps down the hallway, and Matt breezes in through the door, in all his oiled, muscular, bare-chested glory. "Great," he says, "the oven should have kept everything warm."

"Sorry to drive you out of the kitchen like that," you say, sitting up at the table as he begins pulling the meal out of the warm oven and putting it on plates.

Heated plates, you realize when he puts one in front of you, the beautiful omelette on it adorned with a fresh sprig of something green, and a dish of seared hot peppers on the side.

"In case you're not into the hot stuff," he says, pointing out that his breakfast is covered in them.

>You've put a lot of thought into this
>Oh, I'm very into the hot stuff (look pointedly at his bare chest)
>Everything looks delicious
>Write In

>>36755151
>>You've put a lot of thought into this
>Everything looks delicious

everything indeed, though don't be too crass about it

>>36755151
>You've put a lot of thought into this
>Everything looks delicious

>>36755151
>Oh, I'm very into the hot stuff (look pointedly at his bare chest)

>>36755151
>>You've put a lot of thought into this
>>Everything looks delicious

>>36755151

"You've put a lot of thought into this," you tell him, lifting your fork, a plain, stamped metal implement, "everything looks delicious."

"I don't do this sort of thing often," he says, picking up a bite with at least three of those peppers on it, "but I try to do it right."

You certainly can't argue with that, and neither of you says much during the rest of the meal. Hunger roars like a raging beast when you finally slip its leash, and Matt's eggs are cetainly worth unleashing it on.

Idly, you wonder how long it's been since you last ate, and how they kept you going during the weeks you don't remember.

"I couldn't help but hear," Matt begins, scraping his empty plate, "you said you were a courier. That certainly explains the bike."

"What was your other guess?" you ask him between bites. It looks like he gave you a larger protion than he kept for himself.

"Oh, a corp heiress or something," he says as he pushes back his chair, "nobody else would have a bike this heavily customized," he finishes, the words coming over his shoulder as he starts washing his dishes at the sink.

You, a corp heiress?

You barely avoid choking in your uncontrolled laughter. It's a release from the tension that's defined your morning so far.

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>>36755426

"Speaking of which," he says, turning to look at you, wiping a plate with a towel, "are you entering the City Circuit? It's only a couple weeks away."

Wait, it's that far along in the year already? The City Circuit is a street race around the city, used by couriers and others who live by the pedal to show off their skill, and by corps to show off their new wheeled tech.

A dangerous event that could tie up the city's streets for days, depending on how bad the wrecks were. But there might actually be riots if the corps put a spot to it. Not many things you could say that about, these days.

It's never been a priority for you - ever since you felt you were qualified, you've gotten quite enough work through normal channels.

>No, it's not really my thing
>I'll have to think about it
>Yeah, I'm glad I wasn't out so long I missed it
>Write In

>>36755426
>Hunger roars like a raging beast when you finally slip its leash, and Matt's eggs are cetainly worth unleashing it on.
l-lewd...

You're going to write Laura X breakfast smut now aren't you?

>>36755436
>>I'll have to think about it

>>36755436
>I'll have to think about it
But too much heat right now. Especially with Raynard's subordinates after us.

>>36755436
>I'll have to think about it

>>36755436
>I'll have to think about it

>>36755440
Pastebin when?

>>36755436
>I'll have to think about it

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>>36755436

"I'll have to think about it," you tell him, "I'm still trying to hit my stride again, and figure out how many people want me dead, you know?"

"I just wondered," he says, putting the plate in a drying rack, "it's the biggest event in my near future. I'll be tuning and repairing up until they fire the starting shot. That's what those sports cars are in for," he tells you with a smile, "A couple of corp big shots who want their day at the races. They'll probably think better of it before then, though."

"Why?" you ask, looking up from your breakfast, "the usual reasons look bigger right beforehand?"

"Nah," Matt says, leaning on the dead oven with one hand, showing off his chest, "rumor has it the Biohazard Rider's going to put in a showing."

"The Biohazard Rider?" you ask dumbly, hoping your face doesn't betray your suspicions.

"You haven't heard?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at you, "a sinister motorcyclist blasted their way out of a Plutonix corp compound, then spread a swath of the nanoplague across a sector and a half before disappearing somewhere in Vulnex Sector. They're still doing cleanup."

"Of course," he continues, voice deep, staring deep into your eyes, "smart money says it's the corps covering up something big. A plague rider is just cool enough to make a good story, but can't be anything like the real truth."

Wait, you've become an urban legend? And it's assumed to be a coverup for something even more sinister?

>I'm sure the truth is even crazier
>Got any more specifics?
>I doubt he'll show up to the race
>Actually, I'm the Biohazard Rider
>Write In

>>36755640
>>I'm sure the truth is even crazier
>>Got any more specifics?

>>36755640
Seriously you've got to stop posting beefcake and post some cheescake already, that one pick of Eliza isn't enough.

>Write In
"Seriously thats what it took for me to finally be given a nickname? What is wrong with this city."

>>36755640
>>I'm sure the truth is even crazier
>>Got any more specifics?

>>36755640
>I'm sure the truth is even crazier
>Got any more specifics?

>>36755640
>I'm sure the truth is even crazier
>Got any more specifics?
>What kind of a stupid name is "Biohazard Rider"?

>>36755640

"I'm sure the truth is even crazier," you say levelly, balancing another bite on the end of your fork, "but have you got any more specifics on the Rider?"

"Oh," he says with a smile, "there are all kinds of theories. Some think it's a Plutonix experiment that broke out on a motorcycle, others think it's one of their top brass who snapped. Some say both," he says, grinning from ear to ear, "an exec who shot himself up on an experimental nanoplague-based formula and went joyriding on a hot-rod prototype bike. And there are even wilder rumors of the Biohazard Rider eating children in Vulnex Sector's alleyways."

Children in an alley? That rings a bell, you think.

Then it hits you.

Phillip.

The grimy face, the set smirk, the pink hair done up in twintails.

The ecstatic chattering of the SMG in his tiny hands as he capped the Gardener, the look of set determination as he completed the delivery when you where too far gone.

Is he even alive?

"You alright?" Matt asks, waving a hand up and down in front of your eyes, "sorry if kids are a sore subject, or something."

"Nah," you say, waving him away, "just remembered something I need to look into."

"Just checking," he tells you, "you looked pretty zoned out there. Need anything else before I start on the cars?"

>Write In

>>36755861
Did we ever ask him exactly what he did to our bike?

>>36755861
>Walk over to him seductively
"Why don't you put those deft hands to use on me instead?"

>>36755893
Yea, we really need to know.

>>36755861
>>36755893
this

also we really need to find out how to check up on Philip

>>36755913
I'm guessing the new 'RQ' contact is our best bet for that.

>>36755925
RQ?

>>36755986
In >>36746858
>One's merely titled 'R.Q.', and the other 'Concierge'.

I'm guessing that R.Q. stands for Red Queen, since that's what we picked last thread.

>>36756003
HD said last thread that determined the colour of our new phone, though that contact is interesting

>>36755861

"Yeah," you say, pushing your chair back and picking up the plate and fork, "What exactly did you do to my bike?"

"Replaced all the missing parts," he says, leaning against the empty doorframe, "which turned out to be everything not metal. Put the whole thing together. Tuned it. That's about it. It's running, but I haven't taken it for a test drive yet. If you're going out on it, you should probably get my number so I can pick you up if something breaks."

You put the dishes in the sink, then pull out your phone and raise your eyebrows at him.

"It's on the fridge," he says, gesturing at a number scrawled on the appliance with a permanent marker, "now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to go earn my keep."

"Thanks for breakfast," you tell him as he turns away, and you enter the number into your phone.

"Anytime," his voice echoes down the hallway.

You begin scrubbing the dishes you dirtied. You're not as good at it as Matt was, but you haven't had as much practice, and your fingers are actually very responsive for how long it's been since you've used them.

The sink's enamel has obviously been repaired over and over, each time with a different shades, probably leftovers from the workshop. It's an interestingly random rainbow effect.

But you've got bigger fish to fry, and a task like this is just a chance to think about your next move.

>Call R.Q.
>Call Concierge
>Call Ryan
>Call Paul
>Call Arty
>Call Thomson
>Call someone else: Dr. Morrison, Greer (Deceased), Alice, Raynard

>>36756112
Call Davy.

Check up on the kid, maybe sort out dinner.

>>36756112
>Call R.Q.

>>36756112
>Call R.Q.
no idea what this could be

>>36756154
Our new boss?

>>36756162
Probably, and by the sounds of it, our next job is winning that race event.

>>36756196
I wouldn't mind that.

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>META POST
Sorry about that three-hour dead spot. Really sucked, but my schedule here is unpredictable.

Other than that, the thread was fun to run. Thanks for playing!

So, next thread begins with the most voted option at the end of this thread.

>SESSION STATS

PROFESSIONAL RANKING: Accounted
BONUS OBJECTIVES CLEARED: Up To Speed; Catching Up With A Friend II; Behind A Thousand Proxies; Rumors Of My Demise I; The Soft Truth; Asking The Hard Questions II; Raynard; What Is Truth?; Good Guest; Noncommittal; Nobody Cared Who I Was Until I Put On The Mask; Biohazard Rider I; Asking The Important Questions
STYLE POINTS: 1800

OVERALL RANKING: ACCOUNTED ARBITRAGE ANNIHILATION


TOTAL STYLE POINTS: 9000 (but not over)

Geez, writeins and second-go objectives scoring so many points.

>LINKS

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

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

Questions (the best way to ask me things, and generally get things to me that I'm guaranteed to read): http://ask.fm/haikudeluge

Megacorps & Locations: http://pastebin.com/e0ZjmVJL (More info pastebins should come eventually. There are too many moving parts to keep track of otherwise.)

>OTHER THINGS

Note that you can (write in) call anyone on your contacts list any time your phone's not being jammed or otherwise unusable. Whether they'll answer is another matter entirely, but it's still worth trying.

>>36756016
That's the only visible effect that vote had in that thread, not the only effect it had period. There's a reason your phone's red.

>>36756196
>next job

Actually, as with everything, the race is optional (although hopefully enjoyable). You'll probably get at least one (more normal) courier run and enough time to work through your list of contacts before the race, unless things come up and everything spirals out of control again.

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>>36756357
Thanks for running.

>>36756357
Will Laura be surprised next time she looks in the mirror? Is the effects of the nano-plauge treatment noticable?

>>36756357
thanks for the thread HD

>>36756410
damn completely forgot to check that when we woke up, we need to do that in the next thread

Just posting here so I can say "I told you so" in the future when HD pits us against Eliza in the race if we choose to go to it.Seriously HD, I can't take these feelz man, you've got to lighten up some.