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PROLOGUE

time: the Dark Future of the year 2005
location: The ruins of Old Tokyo, Japan.

A man in a white suit watches the setting Sun on the Horizon. Behind him, a work crew is excavating the remains of a derelict building. The man smiles as his wrist phone whirrs for incoming call. He answers and a blue hologram of a person appears onto the devices surface.


>Dick, I was just about to reach you. We finally found it.

>Is it really it? Did you confirm? The sound relayed directly onto the man's skull is warbled with heavy encryption.

>Yep. Passed every test. We send this rock down to the boys and girls of the lab as soon as possible. Nothing can stop her plans now.

>Then our agreement…?

>Still holds as long as the project is still running. Tell me, I heard some worrisome rumours from the States a while ago. Something about vigilantes around Detroit. Vigilantes with very familiar sounding characteristics.

>Ah, that. Nothing but imitators I'm sure. And even if the Senshin somehow survived, you said it yourself. They can't stop us. They can't stop the future.

>Even still, I'd rather not leave any loose threads. Deal with it before it becomes a problem.


The man cuts the connection and turns towards the pit. Something heavy is being lifted with a crane.


>Nothing can stop this thing…

5 MONTHS LATER

You are 21 year old police woman fresh from the academy, ready to start with her first gig in the Greater Detroit. It's been over 10 years since you and your family fled Japan after the Titanquake of 1995 left the city of Tokyo in ruins.

>What is your name and appearance?

>>4852158
Matsuri Gentschenfeld, a tall and toned redhead with sharp grey eyes. One mole on her right tit.

>>4852158
Hoshi Takano

>>4852172
Long, straight black hair. 5'8. Round eyes, round nose, round butt, big round breasts, and a little round belly. Little scar on eyebrow. Glasses. Wears a dress always, even in winter.

>>4852170
>>4852172
Nice suggestions. We'll wait a bit in case there is new additions or a tiebreaker vote and then roll if neccessary

>>4852170
+1ing this

>>4852170
>>4852238
You're Matsuri Getschenfield.

Next we allocate stats.

Divide 35 stat points accross three characteristics, Physical, Charisma and Willpower.

Physical is most physical activities (figures). Strength, agility, speed etc. Charisma describes how well you influence others and how other see you. High charisma looks confident and helps with tasks like information gathering, encouragement and haggling.
Willpower defines your mental limits. How much pain you can handle. How much social pressure you can take before you buckle. May also have some special effects.

Each stat must have a value between 8 and 15. The rolls will be one or more D20 against the target value (stat +- situational modifiers). Rolls lower than the target values succeed. In case you roll against someone, you compare rolls and the one with the highest roll that is still lower or equal than their target is the winner.

>Matsuri Getschenfield
>Physical: X
>Charisma: X
>Willpower: X
Points available: 35

>>4852309
Physical:15
Charisma:10
Willpower:10

>>4852309
Physical: 14
Charisma: 13
Willpower: 8

>>4852309
Physical: 13
Charisma: 12
Willpower: 10

>>4852312
+1

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>>4852312
>>4852454
We buff
*shitty traced "art" incoming*


>Matsuri Getschenfield
>Physical: 15
>Charisma: 10
>Willpower: 10
>occupation: Police Officer I

Gonna need a break. Sleep and stuff.

>>4852669
If anyone have any ideas of details for our past, feel free to suggest.

>>4852672
War criminal hiding out as a cop

>>4852669
some jackass guy said girls are weaker than boys so we got jacked and became a cop to prove his ass wrong

>>4852669
some jackass war criminal woman hiding out as a cop said girls are weaker than boys so we got jacked and became a cop to prove her ass wrong

I imagine our backstory should probably address why a Japanese girl from Tokyo has a German last name. Lol.


Ok, uhh..how does daughter of the german ambassador sound? That would give us a reason to be in tokyo, theoretically.

>>4852778
Or a German lad came and sewed his oats and left to become a supervillain which we must now stop at all costs

>>4852778
Dad was a german war criminal who fled to japan

>>4852778
Sounds workable. I'm sure we cam jam the warcriminal aspect somewhere.

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>>4852778
>>4852731
>>4852734
>>4852808
>>4852851

Since your birth you've been torn between two worlds. Your father, the ambassador of Germany, tried his best to instill some western values into you, while your mother held very strictly onto japanese traditions. At age of 15 the lives in your family changed dramatically, as the capital of Japan, and your fathers posting, was destroyed by the Titanquake of 1995. Luckily none of you were hurt, and your father was reassigned in a new position in the German embassy in Washington, USA.

You wouldn't get to enjoy life in DC for long, as a few years later the disaster struck again in your family. The past has finally caught up to your father, who had apparently done some really horrible stuff in Africa during the 60's. Not willing to sort it out in court, he fled and you've not heard from him since.

This ruined your family finances, as your mother, a housewife, couldn't support your family properly. Furthermore, due to her husband's crimes, she had lost face with her side of the family, not that they were doing particularly well themselves. Luckily your older sister had almost graduated from college, so she got her degree with only minor sacrifices.

The American society at large wasn't friendly towards japanese at this point due to the recent influx of migrants from Nippon. You could blend in thanks to your german heritage (if you used the shortened form 'Mari' for your name, hardly anybody could guess you're half japanese), but your mother wasn't so fortunate and struggled to find a job even on the more tolerable West Coast. You on the other hand ended up doing lots of menial work, and after starting bodybuilding, you ended up pretty buff thanks to some genetic quirk.

Lacking options, you entered the police academy at age 20, but was there some other reason?

>No. I needed a job and I'm a reasonable fit for the job.
>JUSTICE!
>I want to repay my father's debt to society by serving the law.
>I want to clear my family name.
>Other: write-in

>>4853315
>>No. I needed a job and I'm a reasonable fit for the job.

>>4853315
>>No. I needed a job and I'm a reasonable fit for the job.

>>4853315
>I want to clear my family name.

>>4853315
>No. I needed a job and I'm a reasonable fit for the job.
>I want to clear my family name.

Also, getting in good with the legal system might make things easier for our family. Knowing the right people and dealing with politics can open up a lot of doors.

JUSTICE!

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>>4853315
>JUSTICE!

Two votes for JUSTICE, two votes for "it's just a job", one vote for clearing our name and one that's kinda "it's just a job" and "I want to clear my family name", but really seems to be more about the latter. I'll wait a bit longer if more votes come in and then decide the winner.

>>4853315
>I want to clear my family name.

Seems like clearing our family name is a winner, though admittedly in a slightly fuzzy manner.

>>4853483

People are complex creatures. Sometimes there's multiple motivations for doing something, some can be practical, others more ideological than others. It's a job that our protag is suited for, pays pretty well, but she also wants to do well by her family and also might have an desire to show everyone that her family is worth more than their apparent reputation.

>>4853502
Guess so.

Writing, but it will take a few hours before I can post. I need to finish an assigment first.

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You've had it with your name causing you troubles with the law. Your father hasn't contacted you since he fled, but once in a while you're still dragged into some court or other for questions you can't answer. If you are the law, they wouldn't do that, right? Decent pay is a bonus as well. Well, more than a bonus. If you had to apply to another McJob or internship, you'd start to scream.

After graduating with okay scores on most fields, you were quickly accepted in the Detroit Police Department due to you being a native japanese speaker. After California, Michigan has the greatest japanese migrant population due to its meteoric rise as the hub of computer and cybernetic industries, largely thanks to the said influx of highly skilled workers from Japan. OCP, MagnaCorp, Sarif Industries… They all have their HQs in the greater Detroit area.

Not all immigrants have been beneficial for the economy, of course. The Southern part of Detroit, nicknamed Neo Juban, is a particularly rough area teeming with organized crime. DPD is struggling with Yakuza assassinations, cybernetic smuggling and worse. Fluent japanese speakers are a rarity in academy graduates.

Your new boss, Captain O'Hara, welcomes you with open arms.

>Officer Getchenfield! So glad you could join us! How was your trip? I believe you find our accommodations more than tolerable!

The condo the department offered and you inspected in the morning is barely tolerable, but maybe the living standards in Detroit proper aren't that high in general. But you can manage.

You exchange pleasantries for a while and then get down to business.

>I'm straight with you. The situation on the streets is really dire. You've probably heard rumours, but words can't describe what you can find down there. That's why I'm partnering you with a real veteran. He might not look like much, but he has the knack to land on his feet, if you catch my drift. Niki! Let him in!

On the mark the door opens and a weasel of a man enters the office. If he wasn't wearing the uniform, you'd think he was from the tech department or low level salaryman. He fixes his dusty classes and offers his hand.

>Daniel Murry, at your service. Why, I read your file and was waiting for some small oriental girl, but you're a real giantess! Nice muscles too. Those will come handy, ehe-ehe.

His hand grip is really soft as you grab it. How is this guy in the force? Well, he has to have some assets to survive as long as he must have.

Daniel leads you to the armoury and you're given your gear. Two sets of kevlar vest (finely patched, you're assured) with matching helmets, shoulderpads, knee guard, groin guard, the rest… and then the armament. Semi-automatic .357 Magnum pistol, shock baton, shotgun with both lethal and bean bag rounds…


After storing your gear properly and kitted out, you're ready to head out. The patrol car looks rugged and well armoured. Daniel jingles the keys.

>Well, Matsuri? Which one is it?

>I'm driving.
>You drive.

>>4853909
>You drive.

>>4853909
>You drive.

>>4853909
>You drive.

>>4853909
>>I'm driving.

>>4853917
>>4853949
>>4853956

>You drive

>Aww, man, I hoped you'd take the bait. The cars are durable, but the wheel is stiff for a guy like me. But I get it. It is a big bad new city and you're a little nervous. I drive this time.

You enter the vehicle and the car confirms your identities with a soft beep. The small CRT display in front of you depicts the city in a green wireframe. Daniel points at it:

>That's a good guide, but never take it's advice without a grain of salt. Damn OCP never updates the map ROMs fast enough, you never know when some unmarked roadwork or barricade turns a shortcut into an hour long detour.

You spend most of the day driving around the city and Officer Murry chats the whole time. The man is an endless well of information. He seems to know every street corner like his own pockets, which vendors are legit and which buildings are too dangerous for a pair of police officers or ten.

You notice that wherever you go, there are a few shady looking individuals that exchange quick looks before vanishing into the crowd. You mention this to Murry.

>Yeah, those are the small fry. Probably scouts and pickpockets. The big fish never show themselves like that.

It's late afternoon and you're about to end your shift when a body flies through the second floor window of a nearby building and crashes on the pavement near you. You turn to Daniel:

>Did you see that? I make a call.

>Wait. Hold on a second. That's one of those bad buildings I told you about. Probably gang violence. Let me think…

He barely finishes the sentence before a second body hits the pavement, then third. You grab the microphone.

>Screw this. Station, this is 860. 10-10, fight in progress! We need back-up!

A staccato of gunfire starts somewhere and Daniel quickly backs the car behind the cover.

>Well, there's that. Welcome to Detroit!

You can see part of the building from your vantage point and based on the shrapnel, the gunfire came from there. Based on the radio chit-chat, it will take at least ten more minutes before more units arrive. Most of the civilians have fled the scene, but a few stragglers are left there and there. You spot a small girl, no, toddler in a yellow dress. It seems like she lost her parents in the ruckus.

What to do?

>Wait in the car for the back up. Safety first!
>Exit the car and try to find a better vantage point. What's the car anyway but a big target?
>Make a mad dash for the child and hope no stray bullet hits you on the way
>Other

>>4854068
>Exit the car and try to find a better vantage point. What's the car anyway but a big target?

>>4854068
>Exit the car and try to find a better vantage point. What's the car anyway but a big target?

>>4854068
>Make a mad dash for the child and hope no stray bullet hits you on the way

>>4854068
>Make a mad dash for the child and hope no stray bullet hits you on the way

50/50 she's actually packing heat and about to gun us ded.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

The votes are 50/50
1. Running
2. Find a better vantage point

>>4854590
You can't just sit here.

You get out of the car. Daniel whispers loudly:

>Where the fuck are you going?
>There's a child out there!
>You can't just chase every nip toddler you see during a firefight, rookie! The City is full of them! Besides, it's probably just bait anyway.

You close the car door, but Officer Murry continues to berate you through the radio in your helmet. It starts to get to you. You remember one of the training films from the Academy, Surviving Armed Toddlers. Every year 50 police officers in the US get killed or seriously injured by a young child or a midget imitating one.


You stay put behind a dumpster and consider this for a second. But then the need to act kicks in a wins. You're a police officer, damit. Protect and serve.


Roll 3d20 for physical, no modifiers, so the target value is 15.


I'll wait an hour or until three posts with rolls have been posted. I only count second and further dice per post if not enough rolls are rolled otherwise after an hour.


Then I roll 2d10 for the baddies if no roll higher than 10 were rolled.

Rolled 10 (1d20)

>>4854604

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>4854604

Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>4854604
Satan guide my dice!

>>4854700
>>4854716
>>4854719
10 and 11 are successes, 19 is over the target value. 11 is the best result and higher than the opponents target of 10, so no need to roll for the baddies.
Writing.

>>4854735
You jump from your position and sprint across the plaza. Nobody seems to be aiming at your direction at the moment, but bullets whir past you uncomfortably close. You reach the toddler after what feels like an eternity and quickly grab her from the waist. She weighs about as much as a big sack of potatoes, but a pouch of tubers would never scream and kick like this. But you're a big girl, so it doesn't slow you much.

As you're about to reach the relative safety behind the dumpster, it seems someone has noticed your presence and is throwing potshots in your direction, as the bullets hit much closer now. Too little too late for that as you execute a stylish but painful slide at the very last moment.

You take a few seconds to catch your breath and then take in your surroundings. Daniel has exited the car as well and is guarding the perimeter with a shotgun. Hurriedly, you check yourself and the kid for any wounds, but it seems that you only got some scratches.

You've only just tucked the toddler to a relatively safe hole when your world shakes with a huge explosion. The cover takes the brunt of the shockwave, but it takes some time before your ears stop ringing. You take a peak and there is a hole big enough for a car in the building the gunfire came from. It's dead silent bar the sound of rubble falling down.

What next?

>check on radio what's the the situation with the back-up
>take the aim at the hole with your magnum
>take your shotgun from the car and charge in like Leeroy Jenkins

>>4854775
>take the aim at the hole with your magnum

>>4854775
>take the aim at the hole with your magnum

>>4854775
>>take the aim at the hole with your magnum

>>4854775
>take the aim at the hole with your magnum

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>>4854796
>>4854799
>>4854877
>>4854898

You unholster your gun and take aim. After ten seconds that feel like an eternity, something gets out. All you see is a writhing mass of mechanical tentacles. Your reflexes are a bit jumpy, so you let out a shot. It doesn't seem to mind.

After it has gotten out properly, it turns and straightens out. Christ it's big. Twice as tall as a man, it seems to be some kind of lizard thing fused with implants of all kinds. Daniel and you let loose on the monster, but bullets seem to do little more than anger it. You're not even sure you can hit it. It's almost like projectiles just stop mid-air a few inches from its skin.

The monster seems to have cleared its head and lets out a deafening roar. Your heart sanks a little as it zeroes on you and charges across the plaza.

Crikey, what now?

>get into the car and try to drive away
>try to escape by foot
>hold your ground and dodge at the last second

>>4855085
>try to escape by foot

We don't want to draw attention to the car, that's where Daniel is. Not to mention that letting that thing run around in traffic would cause a lot of panic and other deaths.

>>4855085
>>try to escape by foot

>>4855085
>hold your ground and dodge at the last second

>>4855085
>try to escape by foot

Okay, running wins. Roll 3d20, the target number is our physcal, 15. The I roll 2d20 for the monster. It's target number is 18.

Rolled 7, 11, 3 = 21 (3d20)

>>4855696

Going to sleep. If more people want to post rolls, feel free. I'll pick the first roll of each post if there's more such posts.

Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>4855795
RUN

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>4855696

>>4855850
Kek!

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>4855696

Rolled 2, 6 = 8 (2d20)

>>4855850
>>4855864
>>4856409
>>4855713
Okay, let's ee how the monster fares.

Actually, before we continue, I'd like to ask your opinions about the tone. With genre mashups like this it' sometimes hard to find a balance between the clashing material. I know I used the word "gritty" in the OP and was mainly using the 1987 Robocop movie as the inspiration for that part of the setting, but then I remembered there are actually several iterations of that franchise, most of which aren't as dark.

So which end (or middle) of the spectrum would you prefer, something lighter and sillier like the Robocop cartoons:

https://youtu.be/XdmixM1w2bE

Or the violence and the body-horror of the first movie?

https://youtu.be/XgXE7jyHWzk

Originally I was going to fully commit to the latter, but the possible scenarios I imagined seemed rather pointlessly edgy and forcing in SM elements in any recognizable form posed a huge challenge.

>>4856586
You're asking a hard ass question. Thing is the silliness of the cartoon could mesh very well with Sailor Moon. However the dark turns Sailor moon takes (the manga especially) could very easily mesh with with Robocop's bleak humor. I vote movie.

>>4856586
You holster your pistol, start to run and book it. You don't know why the abomination is after you and you don't want to find out.

It seems to be faster than you, but you are nimbler. You run deeper into Neo Juban in hopes of finding better cover. Streets are less crowded than one would expect given the time, but all the sounds of gunfire and explosions probably have something to do with it.

After turning a corner you spot an alleyway that could probably help you lose your assailant. You're not fully adjusted to your new gear, but you still manage to vault over fences and other obstacles with little trouble.

After the final landing, you stop to catch your breath and listen. You're not sure, but it sounds like the monster continued it's way along the street. You're about to let out a sigh of relief when you notice you're not alone. Three street thugs stare at you. The first one looks like a leader, a tall asian looking guy with a green mohawk and a purple raincoat carrying a case. The second one is african american in wife beater and crude cybernetic arm prosthetic. The third guy looks like a teenager, but based on his vest and tattoos he's already a gang member. You don't know whether these three stooges are drug dealers, pimps or what, but at the moment you have more pressing matters at hand. Guess having DPD officer literally jump on them wasn't part of their plan either.

The kid looks shocked and is raising his hand, the black guy glares at you and is flexing his robohand and the tall guy is pulling his free hand from the raincoat.


What to do?

>Run. The alleyway opens up slightly further down the road. You're not sure where it leads, tho. Requires a Physical roll.
>Pull out your gun and tell them to drop it. Require a Charisma roll.
>Pull out your gun and shoot the leader and then the African if he doesn't comply. The kid is most likely harmless. Requires a Physical roll.
>Just shoot them all, damit. They're street trash, nobody will miss them. Requires a Physical AND Willpower roll.

>>4856596
I guess there are darker aspects in the Sailor Moon franchise. So far I've deliberately limited my research onto the first seasons of the anime, so I'm not that familiar with the later developements as of yet.

>>4857252
>>Pull out your gun and shoot the leader and then the African if he doesn't comply. The kid is most likely harmless. Requires a Physical roll.

Sorry about slowed down post rate, btw, I've been a little under the weather the last couple of days.

>>4857252
>Pull out your gun and shoot the leader and then the African if he doesn't comply. The kid is most likely harmless. Requires a Physical roll.

>>4857252
>Just shoot them all, damit. They're street trash, nobody will miss them. Requires a Physical AND Willpower roll.
The "Kid" is never harmless

>>4857252
>>Just shoot them all, damit. They're street trash, nobody will miss them. Requires a Physical AND Willpower roll.

I prefer something cornier but also a little grim

Rolled 2 (1d2)

The results are 50:50. The dice will decide.
1: Self-defense
2: Punisher -mode activated

>>4857337
We don't play around, it seems.

Roll 7d20. Once again I will only take the first rolls of the post into account if there are enough posts made.

This time the rolls are a bit different, because there are multiple opponents. The first two roll will shoot at the tall guy, the next two the negro and the next two the kid. The seventh roll tests Willpower whether we have the guts to pull the trigger on the kid, as we aren't seasoned cop yet.

Target numbers for which you need to roll under:
15-0=15 for the tall guy vs. his target of 10 on 1d20
15-2=13 for the black guy vs. his target number of 9 on 2d20
15-1=14 for the kid guy vs. his target number of 8 on 1d20

The Willpower is unmodified 10 on d20.

Rolled 16 (1d20)

>>4857344
Rolling for shooting random strangers.

Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>4857344
NO WITNESSES

Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>4857344

Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>4857352
>>4857357
Against the tall guy our best succesful hit was 6. He fumbles something from his pocket while we keep on shooting. Keep on rolling those d20s.

Rolled 16 (1d20)

>>4857344

Rolled 15, 12 = 27 (2d20)

>>4857366
>>4857394
We won against the first guy, but didn't score against the black man. Let's see if he manages to capitulate on our weakness.

Rolled 9 (1d20)

>>4857344

Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>4857344
BANG BANG BANG

Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>4857410
>>4857419
And we win against the kid by default. One final 1d20 needed for the Willpower roll.

Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>4857477

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>>4857489
With trained reflexes you draw your gun and hit the leader on torso. With a lesser gun a hit that sloppy wouldn't neccessarily stop him for some precious seconds, but when he magnum round explodes on his stomach he crumbles on the spot, dead.
You don't stop to marvel your first kill ever, as the gun is already pointing towards the cyborg, producing satisfying clang as it hits him. You turn towards the kind, and... oh, looks like we have a runner. For a fraction of a second the finality of taking the life of someone so young hits you, but then the instant passes. Breath. Aim. Pull. He never reached the end of that alley.

You try to catch your breath. The whole ordeal took less than ten seconds and now three people are dead. Fuck, what you put in your report, what to do, what will your mom say...

The crackle of the radio wakes you up from your reverie.
>*...uri*... *ere are you*
It sounds like Daniel. You're about to open your channel when suddenly the black cyborg you thought dead jumps from the ground where he fell a moment ago. It seems his enchantments aren't just skin deep.

The man spits some blood, glares at you and then charges.

>YOU BITCH!

What will you do?

>Shoot him some more
>Actually, did I fire twelve shots or only eleven? Well, to tell you the truth, in all of this excitement, I kinda lost the track myself. Better move to melee. *equip shock baton and prepare for CQC*
>time for a tactical withdrawal

>>4857535
>Actually, did I fire twelve shots or only eleven? Well, to tell you the truth, in all of this excitement, I kinda lost the track myself. Better move to melee. *equip shock baton and prepare for CQC*

He's charging, we might not be able to line up a good bead on him. Might as well break out the baton.

>>4857535
>>time for a tactical withdrawal
Leave and hope that he ends up tangling with that lizard fuck

>>4857535
>Actually, did I fire twelve shots or only eleven? Well, to tell you the truth, in all of this excitement, I kinda lost the track myself. Better move to melee. *equip shock baton and prepare for CQC*

>>4857535
>Actually, did I fire twelve shots or only eleven? Well, to tell you the truth, in all of this excitement, I kinda lost the track myself. Better move to melee. *equip shock baton and prepare for CQC*

>>4857535
>Shoot him some more

>>4857922
+1

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>>4857586
>>4857645
>>4857720
>>4857768
>>4857922
>>4858008

3 vs. 2 vs. 1, the mee option wins.

You're about to shoot, when you realize your magazine is running low and is possibly empty. Rather than finding the hard way, you quickly jam it into the holster while at the same time sidestepping the initial charge and drawing out the stun baton. It's a technological marvel in its own right, five inches long in its retracted form, but it holds enough charge for dozens of strikes powerful enough to stun a person momentarily, or a couple of possible lethal hits when cranked all the way up. You turn up the dial all the way to maximum and take a stance, as the maddened cyborg charges you again.

Roll for 2d20 for Physical, 15 and lower are successes. Then I roll 1d20 for the Cyborg, 15 and lower are successful for him as well

Rolled 6, 15 = 21 (2d20)

>>4858246

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>4858313
Nice, 1/20 it's a tie, otherwise we won

Rolled 17, 15 = 32 (2d20)

>>4858246

>>4858599
>>4858313
Okay, if we went RAW using the convention established thus far, this would actually lead to failure in our part, as neither of the first rolls of these post is a higher success than the 13 rolled by the opponent. Mistake was on my part as I didn't clearly call off the rolls at first opportunity and now I'm maybe 2/3 of a written post deep in the successful scenario. Are everyone fine with that, or do we stick to the rules and go with the failure? It's not a huge sacrifice from my part either way, just a few paragraphs of rewrite and somewhat different direction for the story.

>>4858766
I have no idea how dice are supposed to work here.

>>4858766

I'm fine either way.

>>4858766
I'm fine with that.

>>4858785
It's a roll-under system, where you need to roll under the target value and, in case it's an opposed roll, higher than any of your opponents rolls.

Basically I hacked the the dice mechanic from a miniature game called Infinity by removing the critical mechanic (to make it less swingy) and being more liberal with modifiers.

>>4858839
But I rolled 6 and it's less than 13.

>>4858842
Yes. You need to roll higher than your oppponent. The side with the highest succesful roll wins. So in this case we have 6, 17 against target of 15 vs. 13 against target of 15. 6 and 13 are both successes in their own right, but 13 is higher so it wins.

You don't need to understand the dice mechanic to play. Hell, half the time I myself don't bother to understand them when playing a quest with a complex one. They're there for transparencys sake, even if it removes some of my ability to fudge rolls.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

But since this was hanging on a roll of a dice already, I just roll d2.
1 we beat the crap out of the cyborg,
2 the opposite happens

>>4858859
So 15 was the best possible roll but this guy here >>4858599 made us lose?

>>4858863
I have no idea

>>4858867
Basically. But it's all part of the drama either way, so no hard feelings.

>>4858942
So are you basically taking the worst of everyone's rolls then? That seems like a very unconventional way to take dice rolls.

>>4858991
I'm taking the first roll from the left.

File: 20210608_002718-ANIMATION.gif (2.16 MB, 691x691)

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>>4858246
>>4858863
The Cyborg charges, but then trips over his shoelace. You shrug and knock him out with your baton. A loud roar steals your attention. It's the monster! It's about to eat you, when a girl in stylished school uniform jumps from the roof of a nearby building and jump kicks it into submission. She then wave her rod and scream something incomprehensible in japanese and the monster vanishes

YOU MUST BE MATSURI! I'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU! I'm USAGI-CHAN AND WE'RE GOING TO BE BEST FRIENDS! COME! THE MOON KINGDOM NEEDS US!

A lavender coloured pegasus that leaves a rainbow to its wake lands on the alley and nods. You glance at the bodies laying on the ground.

OH DON'T WORRY ABOUT THEM! THOSE WEREN'T REAL BULLETS! THEY'RE ONLY SLEEPING!

You both jump on the back of the Pegasus and fly towards the Moon...

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>>4859019
KRRH… ERROR/ERROR

INCOMPATIBLE COSMIC PROBABILITY PARAMETERS

RETURNING TO PREVIOUS STABLE TIME-LINE

You shake your head. What the fuck was that? You make a few tentative swipes with the baton, both to accustom yourself and keep some distance between you and your opponent. Despite the rather impressive sparkling effect of the shock generator the cyborg seems unheeded. Lucky for you, either your previous shots damaged his systems or his street-level cybernetics are third-grade knock-offs, as his movements are rather sluggish. Still, one good hit from that arm would probably knock you out cold at minimum.

His first strike is easy enough to miss, but he continues the movement by trying to grapple your baton arm with his left, biological arm just as you were raising it to strike. You manage to shake him off before he manages to attack again with his piston-like right and reward him with a glancing hit from your baton. The man screams and slacks off momentarily. You don't let the opportunity pass and jam the baton to his lower abdomen, exhausting the remaining charge in one continuous surge. The man screams again but then starts to laugh. He answers your visible confusion with a glee.

>MUH DICK IS GROUNDED, MUTHAFUCKA!

That is the last thing you hear before everything goes dark.

You come to your senses slowly and painfully. The left side of your face is swollen and feels like it's on fire. You can barely see with only your right eye on the dim light. A cloth covers your mouth, your nose is clogged with blood and it feels like you've lost a canine.


Dazed, you look around. Underground? You hear the sound of the machines and some sparkly sounds. You try to move, but you've tied to a chair, probably with your own zip-ties.

Lacking options, you take a better look around. Some kind of warehouse full of crates. The sparkling sound comes from a corner. You can see a few men sitting on the crates working on something. One of them notices you.

>Looks who woke up! Snow White!

-the black cyborg from earlier gets up and shoosh the old man that was working on his arm away.

>It's Sleeping Beauty, Mike, you idiot!,

a hispanic looking gangbanger chimes in.

The two of them come and stand before you.

>Boss is going to be so swell when he hears that we caught a cop!

-'Mike' giggles. He yanks the cloth from your mouth.

>So you better start singing now, girlie! The boss is going to show you no mercy when he learns what you did to Takeshi and Ruki, so you might as well make it a little easier for yourself!

What to do?

>Stay silent
>Tell you don't know anything of value as it was your first day on the job (Charisma)
>Other

>>4859020
"a grounded dick? really?"

>>4859020
>Stay silent
grounded dick? based.

>>4859066
1+

>>4859066
+1 to this.

>>4859020
>>4859066
>>4859068
>>4859081
>>4859094

>A groushned dickh? Sreally?

The statement didn't come nearly as snarky as intended through your swollen lips, but they got the meaning. This seems to amuse Mike.

>Really, sista! Look for yourself!

>Wow, brother! Ain't nobody wanna see your junk, dog, no matter how much chrome you slap to it!

>Tell that to your mother, Chris! Besides, she's gonna see lots of it before this is over!

>You really want to rape her? Look at all that muscle, it would be like fucking a man, you faggot!

>You're faggot!

>no, u….

They continue their bickering like this for a while, which leaves you time to maybe try out something.

>Try talking to them. What? (Charisma)
>Try to shim the zip-ties like they taught you in the academy (Physical AND Willpower)
>Try to draw power from somewhere deep inside you and snap your bonds through raw strength alone(Challenging Physical, though you get a bonus if you can make up inspiring enough source of power. Chris and Mike will get alerted immediately if you succeed)

>>4860270
>>Try to shim the zip-ties like they taught you in the academy (Physical AND Willpower)

>>4860270
>>Try talking to them. What? (Charisma)
Look dude. I’m a rookie. This is literally my first day on the job. I don’t fucking know shit. How about I give you both a blowie and you let me go, huh?

>>4860270
>Try to draw power from somewhere deep inside you and snap your bonds through raw strength alone(Challenging Physical, though you get a bonus if you can make up inspiring enough source of power. Chris and Mike will get alerted immediately if you succeed)

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>>4860323
>How about I give you both a blowie

>>4860370
Not a bad idea if nothing else works....

>>4860270
>Try to shim the zip-ties like they taught you in the academy (Physical AND Willpower)
I have no idea our odds of success on this because the dice confuse the hell out of me.
Given we just shot two people, I don't think they're in the mood for parley.

>>4860270
>>4860593
>>4860280

As they babble about balls and the level of homosexuality of different acts, you manage to nudge your hands enough to reach a pin hidden in your person just in case of situations like this. It is hard, because you've not practiced this that many times and never in conditions like this.

Roll 2d20.
First roll is our Physical(15) -3 due to the awkward position, totalling 12.
The second is straight Willpower(10) due to stressful situation.
You have to roll under the target value on each. This time there is no opposed element, so any low roll is a success. Success in one while failing the other may still change the situation beneficially in some way depending on the rolls.

Rolled 2 (1d20)

>>4860659
so do we get one attempt at each roll with one roll per person, correct?

>>4860680
That is correct. Your roll is a success, for instance. 50% odds we pass the second roll.

Easiest way to tipp the odds in our favour(especially if it's opposed roll) is to give us more dice to roll, but for this case I chose to have it be one dice per type due to the challenging nature of the task.

Rolled 15 (1d20)

>>4860659
Alright, for willpower then

>>4860680
>>4860716
While they keep arguing whether seeing your homie's dick is gay, you slowly reach for the pin hidden in your sleeve. Next, you need to spin the zip-tie so that the locking mechanism is in the right position related to your fingers. Doing all this by touch is really hard. And the most challenging part is yet to come. After a couple of tries you manage to point the pin to what you think is the right hole to shim and push. But the aligment wasn't fully right and you almost drop the needle! You manage to catch it before it falls, but let out an involuntary grunt. Chris and Mike stop.

>Ayo, what is so funny, la chica? Perhaps you want to support my argument that touching balls is gay?
>Nah, Chris, if you say no-homo, it's fine. How else can you check for bullet-wounds from your brotha?

How do you respond?
>Touching balls is gay (Charisma)
>Sometimes it's neccessary (Charisma)
>Other

>>4860796
>Touching balls is gay
But hey, one of them has a mechanical hand, so he's not *technically* touching, therefore anyone with a mechanical hand cannot be truly gay. Loopholes! I love loopholes!

>>4860796
>>Touching balls is gay (Charisma)

>>4860796
>>Touching balls is gay (Charisma)

>>4860796
>Touching balls is gay (Charisma)

>>4860796
>>4861051
>>4861114
>>4861118
>>4860941

>Touching balls is gay
Roll 1d20 for Charisma(10) +3 to appear nonchalant. 13 or lower is a success.

rofl

Rolled 16 (1d20)

>>4861199

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>4861199
woops i'm illiterately drunk, my bad

Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>4861199
rollin

Rolled 3 (1d3)

>>4861213
>>4861217
>>4861228
Let's roll which of these counts, 1 means thhe 1st and so on.

>>4861234
And >>4861228 wins, so it's a success.

Writing.

>>4861235
>>4860796

>Touching balls is def gay

, you manage to say, while fiddling with the pin at the same time. Mike isn't happy with your answer.

>Bullshit! What does a dumb broad know about manly feelings?

>She knows enough to call you out, that is! Faggot!

-Chris interjects. You've almost managed to insert the pin again in the zipper's locking mechanism. Just a bit longer… there! With a modicum of satisfaction you feel the needle pushing into the strap and blood starting to flow into your hands a bit better. You could probably free your hands wholesale if you wanted. Mike isn't giving up.

>Don't forget it was she who killed Takashi!

>WHO KILLED TAKASHI?

A huge, dark silhouette blocks an opening that leads to stairways, presumably outside. This must be the boss. The man comes closer and you can tell some more details. Tall, really tall, at least 7' (213cm). He's clad in black leather duster and is built like a boxer. The only accessory on a bald, pale head is his cybernetic eye-visor.


The two goofs shut up at once. Mike points at you.

>She did! And she did Ruki in as well! But she couldn't get me, I'm too strong!

>Well, it seems putting all that chrome into you wasn't a total waste of money after all. The boss looks at you.

>...Did you really drag a cop into our crib?

>Yeah! She must know tons of stuff!

Mike, you IDIOT! The cops work for OCP, they must have all kinds of transmitters and shit in that gear of hear! I bet they're already triangulating our location! If I hadn't already lost enough men today, I'd shoot you here and now!

Mike stares at his toes. You carefully free your hands fully, anticipating the worst.

>So now we need to get out. Pack your stuff. Leave the coke, it will get us caught and it's low grade stuff anyway.

The two underlings get moving and start to unpack illicit goods from various crates around the warehouse and load them on a pallet on a forklift. You think you saw chemicals, weapons and prosthetics in the pile, as well as wads after wads of cash. The boss turns back towards you.

>I'd love to chat about the matters between us further. Takashi had lots of potential. But I have places to be. Ta-ta!

He draws a revolver from his pocket.


>Jump from the chair and try to grab his gun

>Dodge to the side and head straight to the stairs

>Throw the chair at him

>>4861756
>Throw the chair at him

>>4861756
>>Throw the chair at him

>>4861849
>>4861886
Throwing it is.

>>4861756
>>4861849
>>4861886

You jump to the side from the chair. Good thing those two idiots didn't bother to tie your legs. You continue by rolling, grabbing the chair and throwing it at the boss man in one relatively smooth motion. You can still only see with your right eye, but it's hard to miss at this distance at a target that big. The chair crushes at his chest with a resounding impact and falls into pieces. The man merely steps back and seems more annoyed than hurt. You glance around and see Mike and Chris standing next to the forklift with round eyes.

You don't wait to see their next reactions and sprint towards the stairs.

On the way you spot some of your equipment spread on the table.

>ignore it and just sprint at the stairs
>Grab your gun
>Grab your gun and some ammunition(takes longer)

>>4862008
>Grab your gun and some ammunition(takes longer)

>>4862008
>Grab your gun and some ammunition(takes longer)

>>4862008
>Grab your gun

>>4862008
>>>ignore it and just sprint at the stairs

>>4862008
>>Grab your gun and some ammunition(takes longer)

>>4862008 (You)#
>>4862068#
>>4862079#
>>4862266#

>Get her!

-someone yells. You're no match aginst three grown ass men alone in your present condition, but perhaps your great equalizer will help with that. You only spend a fraction of a second to take your gun from the table and a few eye blinks more to grab a magazine, but your momentum is lost. Instead of turning on your heels and getting shot, you commit to the long route and run deeper into the room.

The shelves are tall and narrow and offer some cover. It seems most are stacked with industrial paint, though who knows what's really inside. You reload your gun, but it's hard to check it's condition in the dim light provided by the rare light fixture and a narrow window. That will have to do.

The two goons jog after you. The room isn't really big enough to hide, but maybe there's some other way to gain advantage.


>Get behind some cover and start shooting at anything that comes up close
>Try to fell one of the shelves on the grunts
>Lead them behind the shelves, pull some of the paint cans from the shelf as you go to cover your escape and head straight back to the stairs

>>4862531
>Lead them behind the shelves, pull some of the paint cans from the shelf as you go to cover your escape and head straight back to the stairs
The one I'm worried about is Grounded Dick Dude. Shooting him wasn't very effective first time and if a shelf is small enough for us to tip over he'd probably yank it out of the way without too much effort. Give them the ringarounds and loop back.

>>4862531
>Try to fell one of the shelves on the grunts

>>4862531
>>Lead them behind the shelves, pull some of the paint cans from the shelf as you go to cover your escape and head straight back to the stairs

>>4862531
>>Lead them behind the shelves, pull some of the paint cans from the shelf as you go to cover your escape and head straight back to the stairs

>>4862531
>Get behind some cover and start shooting at anything that comes up close

>>4863930
1+
Also, aim for the dick, we need to settle this argument definitively.

The votes are 3-2-1, I look in one hour if the situation has changed and decide then.

So running wins.

>>4862586
Remeber that his mechanical arm caught the bullet last time. If we managed to hit his biological half, he probably couldn't take it.
>>4863938
Solid motivation, but it looks like his dick is his most well armoured location.

>>4864147
That was just his arm? I thought he was armoured all over. In that case I'd have switched to just capping the punk (how can we miss, it's near point blank?), but it's too late now.

>>4864177
It's his arm and part of his torso, though how much exactly isn't fully visible.

>>4862531
>>4862586
>>4863155
>>4863376

>Lead them behind the shelves, pull some of the paint cans from the shelf as you go to cover your escape and head straight back to the stairs

By sliding between the heavily stacked shelves, you manage to break the line of sight between you and the goons, but not for long. There's all kinds of trash on the floor and you're far from your top form thanks to your recent injuries, but you manage to not fall over

>There she is!

Glancing back, you can see them gaining on you. Desperately, you topple some of the tubs of unknown substances as you pass them and one of them opens, releasing a huge cloud of white dust. You try to not inhale too much and pass on, but your pursuiters aren't as lucky, stopping and coughing their lungs out. That's good, you guess?

You loop back to where you came from, but one obstacle still stands between you and freedom. Their boss. He stands before the stairwell, muttering something in a language you don't recognize. He is lifting his revolver towards you.

>Get behind a pillar for cover and prepare for a shootout
>Fuck it. Your gun is bigger. Eat lead, punk!
>Zigzag and get out. You're in no condition to fight.

>>4864296
How far away is this guy from us?

>>4864309
About ten paces in your current speed that is jog.

>>4864296
>Fuck it. Your gun is bigger. Eat lead, punk!
If we stay in place the goons will catch up, and I don't feel like trying to perform the bullet dance at such close range. Therefore, IT'S HIGH NOON!

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>>4864316
The layout of this part of the room is roughly like this. Not pictured are boxes, chairs, trash and other such small scatter.

>>4864296
>Zigzag and get out. You're in no condition to fight

>>4864296
>Zigzag and get out. You're in no condition to fight.

>>4864729
>>4864533
>>4864318

Zigzagging wins 2vs1

Next we need to roll some dice.

Roll 2d20 for our Physical, not modified, so 15 and lower are succesful

The boss shoot us once and rollls 1d20 and seeks 13 or lower. The side with the highest succesful roll wins.

Rolled 6 (1d20)

>>4864785

Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>4864785

Rolled 11 (1d20)

>>4864798
>>4864812
Successes in their own right, but lets see if the guy shooting can score between 7 and 13

>>4864856
Ouch! That's a hit. Roll 1d20 for Willpower to see whether we can keep going or collapse outright. 10 or lower is a success.

Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>4864859
If we fail this roll does it invalidate the above successes?

Rolled 20 (1d20)

>>4864859

>>4864884
No, the better success of the boss did that.

It's some four hours before I can write the next update, stay tuned!

>>4864296
You roll behind a pillar just as he's about to fire. No sense in trying to fight in these conditions, you have to get out. You sprint behind the pillar and vault behind some boxes. The stairs are on the other side of the room. You can't see your opponent anymore, but he must be close. Can't stay here.


You jump from behind the boxes and zigzag towards the stairs, hoping to throw his aim off. You're about to reach the first step when a deafening bang fills the enclosed room and there's an impact in your back. Crap, he hit you! It feels like your vest took the brunt of the attack. These thoughts fill your head as you stretch over two steps to leap up to safety.


A second bang and this time your vest wasn't there to protect you. A torrent of pain explodes near your right knee mid leap. You land on your left foot like you intended, try to bring the right forth… and it's no use. You crash and roll over the stairs back into the room, every jutting edge adding it's own picante tone to your new form of existence, agony. As you come to stop, you can manage just about breathing through your teeth and not scream.


With your good eye, you see the man walk into your view. Fuck, where's your gun?! You must've dropped it! You find your hands pressing your right femur in some animalistic instinct trying to stop the bleeding. A small puddle of blood is forming under you. It looks like you popped a major vein. Have to get get up, where the fuck is the gun… Your efforts reward you with a brief blackout. Fuck, you're getting into shock at this rate…


>You really fucked up my crew, you know that? That stuff back there… The coke was low grade, but there's no helping them now. It will take months for me to rebuild from this setback. I think we both agree you deserve something special…

He pulls a bullet from his sleeve. It emits soft blue light.

>Ever seen one of these? Azur. Nobody knows how it's made, but it's supposedly the best and most powerful drug in circulation in the whole city right now. Makes you super strong, they say. All I know is that it makes you clinically insane and then starts to mutate you.

He loads the bullet in his revolver.

>Do you think they let mutants in heaven? I don't think so. So if I shoot some goody two-shoes with this, it's oblivion for them, no matter how good they were.

He raises his gun.

>Any last words?

>write-in

>>4865347
Don’t you want to try me out first?

>>4865347
>Until we meet again. Smirk.
180 posts to what looks like a game over. That's one hell of a speedrun we just pulled thanks to decision-making blunders and bad luck, unless something like this was supposed to happen.

>>4865376
I mean, the thread description says Robocop in the very first sentence. Truth to be told, I had something like this in mind, but decided to avoid railroad to keep things interesting. And then players decided to play agressively anyway and below average dice rolls took care of the rest.

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>>4865373

>>4865393
>anons ever acting methodical and rational
kek

>>4865407
Every extra minute of not getting shot allows us to form another plan or buy time for a rescue team.

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>>4865376
>>4865347
>Until we meet again

- you say and grimace through the pain. Fuck it hurts. The man shrugs and aims at your frontal lobe.

>If I do end up in Hell, maybe. Au revoir.


The bullet catches your brain before the sound does. What an interesting feeling, you think momentarily as your cognitive self collapses at the same pace as your brain turns into mush. And then everything vanishes into oblivion like water in the drain and there is nothing.

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>>4866354

Until there is a faint flash. You think of nothing, but the sensation persists and you start to think again. Who am I? Wasn't I shot? How can I think? Is this afterlife?


You try to move and do so, with great difficulty at first and then with ever greater speed. You soar through nothingness towards where the flash was. After a while you notice that the empty void around you isn't so empty anymore. Faint structures rise from the ground under you. You try to inspect them closer, but it seems you're on some predetermined path. The structures solidify from faint phantoms into crystal spires. The place looks like some alien city, though it's oddly familiar.


You reach the center, where a mile high tower pierces the unfamiliar sky. For a second it looks like you're about to crash into its smooth surface, but then your ethereal body just phases through like it wasn't there. Or maybe it's the other way around.


Bright flashes fill your vision as you fly through solid substance and decorated crystal halls back to back. And then you stop. Clearly this is the nexus of power of this place.


Humanoid shapes gather around you, or maybe they're like you, gathering at this place. A bigger shape raises above you all. A question is asked. You're filled with determination and answer yes. Power surges through you and everything turns white.

QM?

>>4867765
Sorry, had to take care of couple of things first. I will finish the update later this day.

>>4867785
come on, it's been 8 hours already

>>4868343
Patience, I'm writing.

>>4866360
After another eternity of nothingness, you feel like returning to reality, in some form. You can't see nor hear anything at first, but then there are words.


>What's up with those readings?

>That can't be right. Are those supposed to be beta-waves? How's that possible?

>I see movement...

>Is it waking up?

>Cut the power!

>No, I want to see how this proceeds…

>Clear the room!

The voices cease and there is only the humming and pumping machine sounds. An image forms slowly in your vision. It looks like a grid pattern of sorts. After a while you realize it must be a ceiling. Wires and pipes criss-cross it, giving it a somewhat industrial look.

You try to move, but are overcome with nausea. You realize you can't breath naturally, which makes you panic for a moment, but it doesn't seem like you're suffocating, so the feeling passes.

Your second attempt feels just as bad, but with herculean effort you manage to force yourself into a sitting position. You look around. The image is fuzzy, and… pixelated? That can't be right. You must have hurt your head when… what? What were you doing before you ended up here? You had a dream… But before that? You can remember images, a party, a scrapyard, ruins, tall buildings, but they're all colourless and in the wrong order.

You decide to leave sorting out your past for later and focus on the present. You were laying on a table. This looks like a laboratory. Lots of machines and CRTs. Your hands… well, they're your hands alright, a little thinner maybe, but you can't remember them having wires like this. And… ports? Cables go into many of them. You start to absentmindedly pluck them off. After freeing your hands, you try to heave your legs off the table. But they're friggin heavy. And made from metal. Well, maybe they always were and you can't just remember it right now.

You manage to push them over the edge and after collecting your spirit for a second, jump from the table. Not the best course of action and you almost fall over. But you manage to balance and are almost taking your first step when you notice there is still one final cable connecting you to the table from your waist. You grab it, when the speakers on the walls come into life.

>Stop! I wouldn't do that if I were you!


>Don't pull the plug, stay silent
>Ask something (what?)
>You can't tell me what to do! Pull the plug!

>>4868560
>>Don't pull the plug, stay silent

>>4868560
>>Don't pull the plug, stay silent

>>4868560
>>You can't tell me what to do! Pull the plug!

>>4868560
>>Don't pull the plug, stay silent

Seems like it's the silent treatment. Will finish the next update after I've gotten some sleep.

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>>4868560

>Don't pull the plug, stay silent

You decide to play along and stop, looking around expectingly.


>It seems like you can understand me. Let off the cable and sit down. Maybe we can come to terms with the situation together.


You comply and sit on the table. A dark mirror on the wall becomes clear and you see half a dozen people in lab coats staring at you. A man in dark hair has a microphone.


>That's better. I don't know if you're noticed, but you don't have control over your vocal cords. Well, you shouldn't but you shouldn't get up in months either, so who knows. And when I say 'you', I mean that body. Truth to be told, you were supposed to be clinically dead long before we began our work. Either way, I don't bore you with questions.


One of the screens next to you begins to show pictures.


>You see that? We don't have full records on you, but we did receive the medical report. You were bleeding to death and then shot in the head with a bullet loaded with Compound 743-B, street name 'Azur'. The bullet pierced through cortex cerebri, causing havoc along way. Then the bullet lodged itself into the back of the skull. The paramedics managed to stabilize your body, but you were declared legally dead two hours later, it seemed like the chemical overload administered directly into the brain was too much. That's where we step in.


Pictures on the screen flash as the presentation continues.


>We're a small subdivision of OCP that focuses on research. You see, the Compound 743-B is the target of a heated debate in the pharmaceutical community for its many extraordinary properties. The trouble is, it's not really compatible with most subjects, which will usually lead to their untimely demise. Your body showed some unique resistance to its negative effects, and as cybernetics is one of our specialties, we were tasked with development of a testbed for new… "applications".


>That was two months ago. Since then, we've patched your brains with cybernetics, installed a whole lot of wetware including subdermal armour and replaced your legs with cybernetic ones. The old ones were pretty busted and they weren't fit for what we planned for anyway.


>Well, those plans are as good as gone now. I doubt the ethical board would agree on re-lobotomizing a subject that has made recovery. Those plans could be altered to include a cognitive operator. But I won't force them against your will. I think we could just patch you up to an acceptable degree and release you back into your old life, what's left of it. What's left of you. But it is a choice. Our plans are classified, so I'm sorry you have to come to your decision with limited knowledge.


How do you sign?

>*I agree on your plans*
>*No, get me out*
>*I need time to think*

>>4869457
>>*No, get me out*
What is left of our body? Are the abs and tits okay at least?

>>4869459
>What is left of our body?
You haven't had the chance to get a good look at the mirror yet, but the most visual changes atm. are your fully cybernetic legs and the stuff on your scalp. About 80% of your torso and hands is still biological. I will write more detailed description later.
>Are the abs and tits okay at least?
Of course! Here on Cyber Moon we have our priorities right. Though the abs have shrivelled up a bit thanks to the 2 month coma.

>>4869457
>*No, get me out*

>>4869457
>*No, get me out*
Mysterious and possibly evil megacorp offers you a mystery box after putting you back together. T'hell with it. We're a copper fighting for great justice, not a guinea pig.
I wonder which bits of our own body are grounded now

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>>4869839
But it could be anything...

>>4869856
When you open the Mystery Box, spiders come out.

>>4869457
>*No, get me out*

You mime with no uncertain terms that you won't be part of whatever this all is. The group looks deflated, but comply. The next few days for you are an endless series of operations while an army of lawyers negotiate for your legal status. In the end it's ruled as a malpractice case in the hospital and you're ordered to give a testimony in court next year.

Your cybernetics are finished in the cheapest possible manner. Everything that can be ripped out and used elsewhere is replaced with baseline off-the-shelf parts. That still leaves you with some high grade stuff buried inside, but stuff like your legs are relatively cheap.

Your mind is still going haywire, especially in the memory department, but combined with the official records downloaded into your neural uplink, you're able to parse enough of your past to get a picture of who you are.

And so you're kicked on the street with new clothes on your back and a cheap wig on your head to cover your metal scalp.

>New traits-

>Unadjusted Cybernetics: -3 modifier to Physical and Charisma due to inaccurate and twitchy movements

>Subdermal armour: +5 modifier to Willpower when resisting damage

What now?

>Call family
>Call work and ask about your position and stuff left in your apartment
>Get drunk
>All three

>>4870491
>>Call family

>>4870491
>Get drunk

>>4870491
>Get drunk
inb4 we find out we have a robo-liver and can't get sozzled

>>4870491
>Get drunk
So in this setting you have:
>OCP
Robocop
>MagnaCorp
???
>Sarif Industries
Deus Ex Human Revolution

But can we expect to see, among others you come up with:
>Weyland-Yutani
>Tyrell Corporation
Alien
Blade Runner
>Tessier-Ashpool SA
Neuromancer
>Cyberlife
Detroit: Become Human

>>4870491
>>All three
If We fucked up even more on that warehouse bit, we're straight up going to be Murphy aren't We?

I wonder where Murphy is now.

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>>4870656
>>4870851
>>4870975
Seems like we're getting wasted

>>4870975
I could see Tyrell being a logical inclusion. Weyland-Yutani might be a bit too focused on space, but we'll see.

>>4871696
i just hope we get a way to buy better chrome and the funds to AFFORD said chrome

>>4870491

>Get drunk

One of the benefits of your new cybernetics is the inbuilt communication device. After managing to remember needed credentials you quickly log in to your old email account. For the last month or so the only mail is from a few mailing lists you were on, but the last real posts came in shortly after your incident. Friends and extended family expressing concern after hearing rumours about your demise. Even the thought of re-establishing yourself right now gives you a headache. Right now you want to do something… human. Alcohol. Yeah. That'll do.


You stride across the laboratory lobby and head to the doors. The whirr and whine of your new legs is already getting on your nerves. Damn. You need to upgrade or at least have the sound dampening adjusted on those as soon as possible. One of the many things you have to do tomorrow. Right now you need to call a cab.


You check your bank account. Less than there were, even if the state paid for your funeral, you guess your family still had to cover running expenses. Well, technically it's the account of your estate right now, sorting that is yet another thing on your ever growing bucket list. Why haven't they made legal issues of resurrection easy?


While waiting for the cab, you notice you aren't alone. A brunette in her thirties by your reckoning. She looks like she is looking for someone.


She catches your eyes and comes to talk to you.


>Excuse me, miss. I work for Detroit Free Journal. Would you happen to know *she checks her notes* 'Matsuri Getschenfield'?

>I'm her

-you let the words slip. Fuck. A reporter. Then again, maybe you can make use of her.

>What do you want?

>I heard from a reliable source that you happen to have survived some… extraordinary circumstances. Would you like to share a few comments?

You consider this as the cab arrives.

>You know, if you pay the cab fare and take us to some nice joint where you can get a drink, I might as well. Nothing too fancy, if you catch my drift.

>Oh, that sounds fair. I think I know just the place.

The cab drive is a quiet one. You stop at some gentrified tile building pretty close to Delta city. The sign says "Old Car shoppe" and seems to be styled after a 50's diner with the picante touch of an old Buick hanging from the roof. The place looks a bit hippy, but the prices aren't outrageous. It is the slow hours after lunch, so there is plenty of room.

So, what are you're getting?

>Drink carefully. You don't know how your new body takes alcohol.
>Fuck it. Bottoms up! Time to get hammered!

>>4871043
>If We fucked up even more on that warehouse bit, we're straight up going to be Murphy aren't We?
Maybe? I know better than overdevelope possible outcomes, but things could have gone worse.

>>4872248
>Fuck it. Bottoms up! Time to get hammered!

>>4872248
>>Drink carefully. You don't know how your new body takes alcohol.

>>4872248
>Fuck it. Bottoms up! Time to get hammered!
In vino veritas! I just hope we recognise who we wake up next to in the morning.

>>4872248
>Fuck it. Bottoms up! Time to get hammered!

You came to drink, not fuck around. A few shots later you can confirm that you can indeed get drunk, though the effects of alcohol have been altered somewhat. For starters, your sight stays as sharp as ever. The effect is nauseating at first, but you get used to it rather quickly. The reporter asks her questions while you're steadily drinking yourself under the table. At first you try to focus and actually find the answers from your scrambled brain, but at some point you're not even sure which one of you is talking.

An hour later she gets up and leaves. Did you insult her? Whatever. Where's my drink? Wait, why are you throwing me out, I'm a customer, dam it! Where's my hair? Give me back my wig, you wanker! Thank you! Now where to… Is there another bar? Cling clong, wizz wuzz, Imma windup girl! Hey, watch it, asshole! I'm a police offi… ofici… I'm a law guy, you can't drive over me!

And what are you looking at!? Are you letting me inside or not? Bouncers, I tell you, if you cocksuckers did your job properly, there would be no bar fights!

Psst, hey mister? Can you buy me Jack Daniels? The wop won't sell me, says I'm too drunk…

Wooo, let's party! Has anybody seen my wig?

I love karaoke! Are there any japanese songs?

Hey, hey, where are you going, we're just having fun? Hey, cmon…

I'll fuck you up, banzai! Have at you!

1/2

>>4872593
>ERRORERRORERRORERROR….

You come to your senses feeling like shit and klaxon in your ears. You have to manually reboot some systems before you have any idea of your orientation. Your internal clock shows it's 3:02 AM. You're in a… coffin? No, these are garbage bags. A dumpster, then.

You run some diagnostics and notice your left leg is missing. Great. Fucking great. Good way to start a day, as a fucking cripple! Fuck! Let's see… it's not in the dumpster with you, but it's unlikely somebody hauled your ass that far with only one leg.

You crawl out from the dumpster with one leg and crash to the ground. Fuuuck…. That hurts. You're greeted with an onslaught of fresh signals. Turns out a metal container blocks radio waves rather well. You try to locate your leg using them… There? You crawl in the direction you think the ping came from. After half a block of humiliation you find the missing leg from a trash can. The socket seems intact, but it's all gummy from the remains of a hotdog. This needs cleaning up...

You manage to find a relatively clean napkin from your person and start wiping dried up mustard from the contact ports. You're almost finished when you notice you've received an email a minute ago. Who would send you mail at this hour…

>From: Katze
>To: mari.g@freemail.com
>Subject: urgent

>Hello! You don't know me, but I've watched your talents with growing interest. Unfortunately I'm not the only one. If you wish to avoid competition, I implore you to search shelter immediately. It would be to our mutual benefit.

>Regards
>Friend


What is this bullshit? Is this a prank? What a mysterious email…

What to do?

>Ignore the mail
>Finish cleaning up your leg and go back to the dumpster
>Look for some hideyhole from immediate vicinity, just in case
>other

>>4872595
>Finish cleaning up your leg and go back to the dumpster

>>4872595
>Finish cleaning up your leg and go back to the dumpster
In the grim darkness of the near future, people still use not-Hotmail.

>>4872595
>>Finish cleaning up your leg and go back to the dumpster

>>4872595
>Finish cleaning up your leg and go back to the dumpster
Home in the dumps

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>>4872610
>>4872719
>>4873039
>>4873115
Back to the trash

>>4873135
Sorry, this have to wait for tomorrow. Need sleep and I have to travel tomorrow.

>>4874099
where ya goin'

>>4874926
Just to do some improvement on young stands in a forest I own with my siblings. Only a few hundred kilometers away. My ID will change for the duration of the weekend.

>>4874971
Don't get ganked by skinwalkers or horrible forest shit. Remember: if all sound in the area ceases unnaturally and you suddenly smell rotting meat and decay, RUN

>>4875210
Nah, I think the bears and wolves take care of the skinwalkers around here.

>>4875237
well you way still need to watch out for the wedigoes, lord knows they are dangerous

>>4872595
>Finish cleaning up your leg and go back to the dumpster

You quickly rub the connectors as well as possible and jam the damn thing to the stump. It takes a couple of tries, but finally it latches on and seems to operate poorly rather than not at all.

By your account it has taken a few minutes since you got the message, but you have barely managed to hobble back to the dumpster before you hear tires screeching from the back.

You lift the dumpster cover while you glance back. Some unmarked vans have stopped at the end of the valley. Fuck. It's not like running is an option, so you hop in and close the lid.

Somehow it smells worse than before. You hold your breath, partly because of the smell, partly because you don't want to attract the attention of whoever the guys outside are.

You hear sliding car doors and muffled steps on the asphalt.

>...you sure of that?
>...ye, for a moment it was clear as day.
>...Search the area.


The sounds disperse. You wait for what feels like an eternity, but according to your clock it's only been five minutes. A sigh of relief. Almost. Then somebody lifts the lid.

It's pretty dark and your night vision amps aren't fully calibrated yet, but it looks like a man in dark overalls wearing a visored helmet of some kind. The uniform reminds you more of a biker than a soldier, but his mannerism speaks of the latter. With a swift movement he and his comrades have lined up and topped the dumpster. You have barely enough time to react by rolling.

You get up as quickly as you can. You see six of them, holding unfamiliar implements no doubt designed for capture. Overconfident, one tries to strike you, but you manage to dodge the attack and swipe back with little effect. The second succeeds to shock you a bit, and then they all come at once. Batons hit your arms and kneecaps, knocking you off your balance. Some kind of manacle latches onto your throat and everything goes dark. You try to scream, but hear nothing. Everything is static.

And then the assault ends as quickly as it began. Your vision returns along with your other senses. The manacle-thing lays broken on the ground. The thugs that just moments ago were trying their very best to make your life miserable are now just laying on the soil, presumably unconscious. You look around and catch a glimpse of movement behind you.

What to do?

>Inspect thugs
>Investigate the movement you saw
>Try to send a message to this "Katze"
>Go home

>>4875936
>Investigate the movement you saw

>>4875936
>Investigate the movement you saw
Someone's been using VATS. Or maybe they're just a cyberninja.

>>4875936
>Investigate the movement you saw
thank the rescuer and get info

>>4876028
Well, you were essentially blinded and stunned, so they might have been a pink elephant as far as you were concerned.

>>4875936
>>Go home

>>4875936
>Go home

>>4875936
>>Inspect thugs
oooh, free loot

>>4875936
>>Go home

Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>4875937
>>4876028
>>4876204
>>4876654
>>4876660
>>4877239
>>4877245
The votes are 3-3-1, a tie between investigation of movement and just going home. Rollan.

1=Investigate
2=Go home

>>4875936
>Investigate the movement you saw

It was just a flash, but you're sure you saw something. You wobble after it with all your might, but whatever it is gets farther and farther.

>STOP! PLEASE! WHO ARE YOU!?!

It stops for a second, just enough for you to catch up and get a closer look. It… she's a woman in some kind of white and red dress. Blonde long hair like a golden rainfall and legs that seem to go on forever. She answers:


>A friend. Try to be more careful, dark forces are on the move and next time I may not be around to save your ass.

She then sprints away. You have no way to match that speed. You didn't even get the chance to thank her…


Suddenly you feel exhausted. You have little idea what condition your flat is in. Hell, you don't even have the keys. You decide to play it safe and log in to the first hotel yiu come across.

Seven hour later you wake up in relatively clean sheets with the worst hangover of your life. Pain is good, you try to convince yourself. It means you're alive. Some part of you wishes to be dead instead. You curb the feeling and try to focus on what to do now. Family. Police. Your job. Your body. All this shady stuff with mysterious vigilantes and armed thugs. You have a hundred things to do and no idea where to start.

>Leave a message to your family and go to the police station in person to sort things out.
>Focus on family. Call your mom. Meet your sister. Send an email to the police and schedule something.
>First things first, you can't be expected to do much with a busted leg. Schedule a repair and then do the other stuff.
>Other

>>4877798
>Focus on family. Call your mom. Meet your sister. Send an email to the police and schedule something.
>First things first, you can't be expected to do much with a busted leg. Schedule a repair and then do the other stuff.

>>4877798
>>Focus on family. Call your mom. Meet your sister. Send an email to the police and schedule something.

>>4877798
>Focus on family. Call your mom. Meet your sister. Send an email to the police and schedule something.
One step at a time. Repairs after moral support

>>4877798
>>Focus on family. Call your mom. Meet your sister. Send an email to the police and schedule something.

>>4877798
>First things first, you can't be expected to do much with a busted leg. Schedule a repair and then do the other stuff.

Sorry, I'm being eaten alive by mosqitoes, hope you all understand.

>>4879472
so are you alive now? or are ya still dead?