>>36127118

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

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

%20Courier%20Quest

LAST SESSION'S STATS:


Phone Numbers Obtained: Paul (office?)
Delivery Completed: N/A
Bonus Objectives Fulfilled: Auto-Erotica; Pay Phony; Waving At Big Brother; The Bookstore; A Real Professional

Bonus Objectives Missed: (Insert Bar-Related Objectives Here) Normal Norman; Jittery Jefferson; Doubting Thomson; Ambulance Chaser; Sellout

>>36127118
Coldly professional - it's just a job. Davey's not a person, he's a package

>>36127118
>Confident and full of energy - The rest you got today really paid off

>>36127118
>>Confident and full of energy - The rest you got today really paid off

>>36127118
>>Confident and full of energy - The rest you got today really paid off

>>36127118
>Coldly professional - it's just a job. Davey's not a person, he's a package.

>>36127118
>Confident and full of energy - The rest you got today really paid off

>>36127118
>>Confident and full of energy - The rest you got today really paid off

Oh yes it is time.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qdPcLM6B8aA

>>36127118
>>Confident and full of energy - The rest you got today really paid off

>>36127118
>Confident and full of energy - The rest you got today really paid off

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>Lewd, Genki super-driver
I love this quest

>>36127118

...really happy to be out here, rushing down the highway, at one with your bike. As crazy as the job earlier got, you were the one who walked away. And then you found the bookstore, a little gem nestled where you'd least expect to find something so beautiful.

Today has been a great day. You guide your bike around a bulky van, smoothly gliding from lane to lane. The wind bats at your leather jacket like a playful kitten.

The Korinyx compound almost abuts the highway. You could probably jump your bike straight from the elevated road into the facility, although that wouldn't be stealthy at all.

Of course, your methods for getting in from ground level are just as obvious. You're secretly hoping for a chain-link fence you can ram through. Failing that, you'd try to dash in while the gate opens for a truck, but that won't work if the compound's all ready on high alert.

Then again, if something's already going down, chances are that nobody will notice you. The fracas is really a blessing in disguise.

You notice that the dot on your helmet's map display is getting close to the Korinyx facility. In fact, you can see it from here. It doesn't look like much from a distance - just some big, rectangular buildings, painted some tasteful shade of nondescript gray. No windows that you can see.

Oh, and a nice, tall concrete fence.

>Jump in from the highway
>Come in from the ground
>Write In

>>36127878
Oh, let's get some 1d10s.

Also, I have an ask.fm now: http://ask.fm/HaikuDeluge

Rolled 10 (1d10)

>>36127878
>Come in from the ground

>>36127878
>Come in from the ground

Rolled 4 (1d10)

>>36127878
>>Jump in from the highway

Oh, and I assume we're not going to learn the MC's name in this quest either...?

Rolled 4 (1d10)

>>36127878
>Come in from the ground

Rolled 6 (1d10)

>>36127908
>>36127942

Rolled 9 (1d10)

>>36127878
>Jump in from the highway

Rolled 4 (1d10)

>>36127878
>>Jump in from the highway

>>36127878

Jumping in from the highway will get you past that wall easily. You gun the engine, urging your steel steed to leap forward, easily outpacing everything else on the road. As you snake through the vehicles, as they crawl along like snails, you hope that no cop notices you right now.

You'd like to be able to stop back by the bookstore.

There's a wall on the edge of the highway, meant to prevent anyone from going over the edge. This is Vulnex's turf, so it's actually in good repair.

You point your bike toward it from two lanes away, hoping that you can hit it at a good angle. Moments before impact, you lean back, lifting the front wheel of your motorcycle free of the road.

This isn't the stupidest thing you've done today., but it's in the running.

The sudden impact tilts your bike up, then your back wheel hits the barrier, and that's the last moment you have a choice. You can only hang on as the impulse jolts you and your motorcycle into the air, free of the highway.

Hang on and hope really hard that you complete this backflip before you hit the ground.

You stick the landing, coming down on a conveniently angled pile of rubbish - packaging materials, most likely. The landing jars you, but it isn't too bad, and you're inside the compound now.

The pile is inside three squat concrete walls, probably a holding area for an incinerator or a digester. Through the open side, you see two of the large, featureless buildings facing each other over an empty expanse of concrete. If the facility was operating, that lane would be filled with trolleys and carriers taking raw materials and waste around the plant, entering and exiting the buildings through a honeycomb of ground-floor openings, as if they were a beehive.

>>36128634

It's empty.

You can hear the highway, and you can hear your bike, but you don't hear any gunfire as your bike rolls down the pile.

For once, that's a bad sign.

>Call Paul and verify that you're in the right place
>Drive around the buildings to see what you can see
>Send out an open frequency radio hail
>Try to get into one of the buildings
>Write In

It was a tie, so I picked the coolest option.

>>36128655
>Drive around the buildings to see what you can see

>>36128655
>Drive around the buildings to see what you can see

>>36128655
>>Drive around the buildings to see what you can see

>>36128655
>>Drive around the buildings to see what you can see

Important question: did we remember to pack our gun?

>>36128655
>Drive around the buildings to see what you can see

>>36128768
we had it when we entered the library, so probably

>>36128833
Oh right. I only checked the leaving home bit, which didn't mention anything about the gun.

>>36128655

As the man who filled a semicircular trench with salt water said, it's time to see what you can see. You roll out of the dump, and carefully look around.

Concrete pad, metal buildings, concrete walls topped with razor wire, orange sodium lights spaced at regular intervals - yup, it's some sort of corp facility. You know Korinyx is probably a Vulnex subsidiary, but you're not sure what they specialize in, and with a setup like this, that could be anything.

You don't see any guards or workers, though, and that's pretty strange. Not strange enough to set off all the warning bells, though.

You drive off down the lane between two of the buildings, glancing from side to side. They've got some ground floor doors, rollup-style metal ones mostly, and human size door every so often. Looks like this place was designed with work vehicles in mind. You can even smell their lingering, distinctive fumes.

Makes their absence even stranger.

You finally reach the end of the buildings, and look back and forth. It's just another concrete wall with barbed wire on top of it, and a lane running along it, perpendicular to the one you're on. The directions are all marked in tire scuffs, but you still don't see any workers, or head any vehicle except your own.

Ok, this is getting weird.

>Call Paul and verify that you're in the right place
>Try to find someone, anyone, even an on-duty security guard
>Send out an open frequency radio hail
>Try to break into one of the buildings
>Write In

>>36129068
>>Try to break into one of the buildings

It would be really funny if we messed up that jump and we're really in the wrong place.

>>36129068
>Call Paul and verify that you're in the right place

>>36129068
>>Try to break into one of the buildings

>>36129068
>>Call Paul and verify that you're in the right place

>>36129068
>Call Paul and verify that you're in the right place

>>36129120
>>36129126
>>36129183
>>36129281
Call Paul while breaking into one of the buildings

>>36129068
>>Call Paul and verify that you're in the right place while breaking into a building

>>36129068
Call Paul on an open frequency radio, while breaking into one of the buildings, occasionally keeping an eye out for someone.

>>36129327
seconding this, why waste time calling him when we could be doing shit

>>36129068

Yeah, it's time to call Paul, just to make sure this is the right place.

Of course, that'll give away your position, but you can live with that. And you haven't seen anyone who looks like they care.

You turn around and drive back between the buildings while you dial. There's another, more direct way to get at the information you need.

You've always hated beating around the bush.

While the phone rings, you examine one of the human-sized doors. Feels like a typical metal door, uses a single deadbolt secured to the sheet steel wall of the building.

"Hello?" Paul answers the phone, and starts to ask about status, but you cut him off before he can get going.

"This place is empty, Paul," you tell him, while walking your bike backward, "are you sure it's the right location?"

"It's where he told me he was," the info broker's assistant tells you, as you ram the door with your bike, "that's all I know, and I haven't been able to contact him since."

"You haven't been able to turn anything else up?" you ask as you back your bike up for a second attempt.

"Not yet," he says, as you ram your bike into the door again, and it gives with a shrieking cry of twisting metal, "what are you doing?"

"I'm getting answers," you tell him, driving into the building.

File: WAREHOUSE-INTERIOR-2.jpg (444 KB, 1000x667)

444 KB JPG

>>36129884

"What the Hell?" you mutter into your helmet's microphone, shocked at the sight that meets your eyes.

It's a single long expanse of shiny floor, with two rows of steel pillars supporting the roof. Looks like there are a few office rooms behind a partition at the far end - you cn see their windows.

And it's empty.

"What's going on?" Paul asks into your ear, "you've gone dead."

"This place is empty," you tell him, "totally empty."

>I'm going to check the other buildings
>I'm spooked - you can have your deposit back
>I'm going to try a public radio hail
>I'm going to do some donuts
>Write In

>>36130029
>>I'm going to check the other buildings

>>36130029
>I'm going to check the other buildings

>>36130029
>Ask Paul if putting out a call on a public radio would be too overt for this job while checking the other buildings.

>>36130029

>I'm going to check the other buildings

>>36130105
Oh and if he says its okay do it.

>>36130029
corps need storage space too!

>do a public radio hail while stunting in the warehouse

>>36130029
>radio hail while doing donuts

>>36130029
>>I'm going to check the other buildings

>>36130029

"I'm going to check the other buildings," you tell him, "and would a radio hail be too overt for this?"

"Too overt?" he asks, with more animation than you've heard from him yet, "lady, you heard the gunfire. Davey's in danger, I don't fucking care if you crash the moon."

"I'd charge extra for that," you tell him, as you rocket across the warehouse, and burst out the door on the other side. Luckily for you, the doors are symmetric, and you ride a tough bike with one hell of a front mudguard.

You smash in through the next warehouse's door, then through other side when it turns out to be as empty as the first. It's not unused - there are scuff marks on the floor - but there's nothing here right now.

You do a donut in the middle of the cleared warehouse's floor. It's not often that you have this much space to play around in, in this claustrophobic city. It's part of why you like the highways so much - they're one of the only clear areas around.

Besides, why go to the trouble of ramming through another door? You'll just go out the one you came in through. You lean into the turn as you watch the lights of the end offices shine through their empty windows.

As you turn, you flip your radio to an open channel, and get ready to broadcast. Before you can, you hear a faint, scratchy signal.

"May-sh-y, shhsh-day, alway-shshsh-que-shshhhs the syst-shshhh, mayday..."

You stop your bike to hear better, as the message repeats. Probably recorded. Eventually, you make out, "Mayday, mayday, always question the system," et cetera, and, a few cycles after that, it disappears in a burst of static.

>Get Paul's input
>Write In

>>36130029
>Write-in
Is it possible his signal got bounced around and someone wanted us to think he was here? This reeks of a trap, and after what happened today...

>>36130707
>>Get Paul's input
That sounds like some kind of code, so he might know.

>>36130707
>Write-in
Talk to Paul, tell him what you heard, but you're already starting to ride to the exit; Davey was probably here, but now he's been carted off somewhere else. If we can find some recent activity (tire treads, recent shipments out of here, etc.) maybe we can track him down befoere he ends up in some mega-corp's basement.

>>36130707
>Get Paul's input
i don't like this...

>>36130776
Yeah it is becoming evident that he is no longer here, and neither is anyone else. We'll need to pursue, as soon as we have an idea which way.

That of course will cost extra. But our rates are fair.

>>36130707
>question the system

Is there a system to question?

>Write In: Check any computers in the office

>>36130914
There's something going on here. Otherwise the signal wouldn't have cut out.

>>36130707
>Get Paul's input
While getting very ready to bug out.

>>36130707

Paranoia sets in. Your warm fuzzies from earlier are gone. You fidget your hands on the handlebars and the engine revs anxiously. Was the entire thing a trap?

You don't think anyone would go quite this far to kill the messenger - emptying a corp warehouse is a lot of money to spend. And Paul was definitely having a conversation with someone on the first call, so it's not all recordings.

Then is this a trap for Paul? Are you messing up someone's plans by coming here instead?

Is there really anyone else here? The transmission cutting out so suddenly is pretty suspicious. There's either someone else manipulating it here, or you're being watched remotely.

That's not a good feeling. You call Paul, fully aware that anything you say may be overheard by anyone. He picks up halfway through the first ring. "Other buildings are empty," you tell him, "but I overheard a mayday, with the phrase 'question the system'."

"Did you answer it?" he asks, flustered. You can almost see him running his free hand anxiously through his white hair, mussing it in his distraction.

"It was a repeating recording," you say, driving back toward the door you came in through, "but it suddenly shut off. Very faint transmission."

"Well," he asks, "have you questioned the system?"

>What
>No
>Of course I question the system, anyone would
>I asked and got decent enough answers - I'm ok with the system

>>36131370
>What

>>36131370
>What
PAAAAAUUUUL

>>36131370
>What
What talking you, Paul? Sense no you make.

>>36131370
>>Of course I question the system, anyone would
Sure, yeah I totally questioned that system alright. You betcha
>What

>>36131370
>What

>>36131370
>>What
You speak in riddles, man!

>>36131370
>I asked and got decent enough answers - I'm ok with the system

>>36131370
Man I don't want to look incompetent but
>What

>>36131370

"What?"

"Ah, fuck," he says. Yeah, you're betting that long-fingered hand of his just grabbed a fistful of hair and he's yanking it around in frustration, "question the computer system, there's got to be one there somewhere. It should at least have surveillance footage. Ask it what it knows."

"Oh," you say, as you turn your bike toward the office windows at the end of the warehouse, "some sort of code?"

"It's," he says with a sigh, "a Davey-ism for getting the information your want out of anything digital. I forgot you wouldn't know, sorry," he trails off weakly.

So the know-it-all-tour bloodless tour guide is just a veneer? You know you're getting paid well for this job, but you're not sure if any of the money is going to feel as good as hearing this guy get flustered and apologize for it.

>Question the system
>You're too spooked - time to bug out
>You're probably not going to see him this vulnerable again for a while - Rub it in
>Write In

>>36131686
>>You're too spooked - time to bug out

>>36131686
>>Question the system
Lets get to it, we're not getting paid by the hour.

>>36131686
>Question the system
Any other Dqvey-isms I should know?

>>36131686
>Question the system
let's not waste any time

>>36131686
>>Question the system
>You're probably not going to see him this vulnerable again for a while - Rub it in
Light Teasing only, we are both stressed here.

>>36131686
>Question the system

>>36131686
>Question the system
We're still a bit uneasy, but we need to find Davey and get out of here fast. This whole thing reeks.

>>36131686
>>Question the system

>>36131686

"Any other Davey-isms I should know?" you ask as you ride toward the door to the office partition.

"Just ask for an explanation if one of us says something you don't catch," he tells you, "but there aren't that many, and you should pick them up by context just by being around him."

Luckily, the door through the partition is unlocked. Unluckily, it looks like the lock was shot out.

That's never a good sign.

"Looks like someone got here before us," you tell him, "I just hope they didn't break the system's kneecaps."

"Did they shoot out the lock?" he asks, "that's standard for most squads. You're probably dealing with professionals."

Your motorcycle isn't going to be any help in a hallway that small. You dismount, pull out the key, and draw your pistol.

>Jump in through the door - take anyone inside by surprise
>Sneaking mission
>Just walk in casually
>Write In

>>36132284
>Sneaking mission

>>36132284
>>Sneaking mission

>>36132284
>Sneaking mission

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>>36132284
>Sneaking mission
We best have our knifegun ready.

>>36132284
>>Sneaking mission

>>36132284
>Jump in through the door - take anyone inside by surprise

>>36132284
>>Sneaking mission

Cardboard box is a go!

>>36132284
>sneaking mission

>>36132284

Slow and steady wins the race. The door shouldn't make much noise when you open it - they already did the loud part for you.

You push the door open softly, peek down the hall, and step onto the cheap carpet floor. It's just enough padding that your boots don't make much noise. You sneak down the hall, past a couple of empty offices, then stop to listen at a T-junction.

Nothing.

Well, maybe a little bit of electronic fan humming, coming from the branch to your left.

You peek around the corner. All clear. You look from side to side as you pad stealthily down the corridor. More empty offices, obviously completely unused, relics of a time when more people were necessary to run a place this big.

There's a set of stairs at the end of the hallway. You wait and listen at the bottom - the hum is definitely coming from the second floor.

So you ascend the stairs, quietly, carefully treading only next to the wall to avoid the steps creaking. The steps are probably metal or tough plastic underneath the cheap carpet, so you have to be careful to not let your boots clunk against them.

The second floor looks the same as the first. But it doesn't smell the same. There's a note in the air here that wasn't down below. You can't quite place it, but it seems familiar.

You step forward into the hallway, then look into the office between you and the warehouse proper.

Humming computers, some sort of switchboard, a bunch of screens - jackpot.

You quickly check the rest of the floor, to make sure nobody sneaks up behind you. More empty offices. The cheap desks and filing cabinets probably weren't worth the money to move. to another location.

Still, why would a corp leave an installation this big empty? Even empty offices take money to maintain. You wonder about it as you make your way back to the security room.

>>36133004

You step into the room and freeze. Suddenly you know what you've been smelling. The distinctive tang of blood rises through the stagnant air. There's a security guard in a corp uniform sprawled out on the floor, bleeding from his bruised neck.

It looks almost like someone was trying to choke-hold him, but accidentally slit his throat instead.

"They smashed the system," you tell Paul, as you stare at the remains of the computer once hooked up to the displays. The switchboard and its computer are still online, but those probably just control the lights and HVAC.

"How bad is it?" he asks.

>Do you want me to send you a picture?
>Its friends are helping it home from the bar
>Write In

>>36133023
>Do you want me to send you a picture?

>>36133023
>ts friends are helping it home from the bar

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23 KB JPG

>>36133023
>Do you want me to send you a picture?

Tell me we don't have to make it to a terminal to upload it.

>trying to choke-hold him, but accidentally slit his throat instead

Someone didn't remember the basics.

>>36133023
>>Do you want me to send you a picture?
But the answer probably is that there's nothing salvageable...

>>36133023
>Do you want me to send you a picture?

>>36133023

"Ya want me to send you a picture?" you ask him, hauling out your phone and pointing it at the smashed computer and the window behind it.

"If you think you have to," Paul responds, "but I trust you to know when a system's broken."

You snap the picture and send it him. "Well, you can see for yourself. There's also a dead security guard on the floor."

"I see you had some fun," he says, a little bit of edge in his voice.

"He was dead when I got here," you shoot back, irritably, "what kind of girl do you think I am?"

"The kind who likes to have fun with her motorcycle," he tells you. Wait. How does he know about that? "Your phone focused on the donuts instead of the computer. Well, the floor's probably in better shape than the computer anyway."

Oh. That's what he was talking about. You're glad that there are some things even an info broker doesn't know about you.

You've barely put your phone away when he starts up again: "There's something wrong there, but I can't put my finger on it. Is the reflection index..." he begins, but it fades into mumbling as you look around the room again.

Talking to himself, the poor man.

Well, it's nice to know someone else does it, although you usually manage to keep it contained inside your own head.

>Examine guard
>Examine switchboard
>Ask what he's going on about
>Write In

>>36133456
>>Examine guard

>>36133456
>Examine switchboard
>Ask what he's going on about
Let him mull over whatever train of thought he's on while we check the tech.

>>36133456
>>Examine switchboard

>>36133456
>Ask what he's going on about
Should you leave?

>>36133456

>Ask what he's going on about

>>36133456
>Examine guard
If someone was choking him, how'd his throat get slit? Also, does it remind us of the Asset we killed on the previous job? I'm probably being paranoid about it, but this just screams trap/setup, and I'd bet dollars to donuts some corp cops are about to bust into this place and pin the guard's murder on us.

Haiku is answering his ask.fm in haikus.

Are we witnessing a QM finally losing it?

>>36133611
You'd be right, the corpse seems suspicious as fuck

>>36133630
>losing it

Son, you didn't read Rock Quest. I'm pretty sure Haiku lost it a long time ago.

Go back to QTG with your shitty questions.

>>36133456
>Examine guard

I gotta hit the sack. Don't do anything stupid by our standards while I'm gone.

>>36133456

You stop paying attention to him, and decide to bend down and check on the guard.

No, you're not going to touch him. That would be stupid, and definitely tie you to the scene.

Of course, you doubt that anyone is trying to frame you here, since your arrival was completely random - you could have gone to any info broker in the city.

Still, you're nervous about getting on the bad side of any corp, unless you're being paid well.

Because if you're being paid, they understand, at least a little bit. You're on the clock, and you could be on their clock tomorrow. You're not an Asset.

It's not personal, it's business. And it there's one thing the corps claim to understand, it's business.

The guard's in a corp uniform, lying in a pool of his own blood. Bad business. One side of the wound in his neck is a puncture - not standard at all. Maybe someone was interrogating him, and their hand slipped?

Perhaps someone with new augments?

Augments are notoriously difficult to adjust to for some people. You've seen a few cases of people doing things accidentally with new limbs - depending on how they're hooked into tthe nervous system, just thinking about an action might make the arm do it.

Being able to punch through walls sounds worth it, though. But the augs that let you do that are pretty tightly controlled, which just means expensive.

The corps know business, after all.

>Interrupt Paul's mumbling to tell him your conjectures
>Check the switchboard
>Ask Paul if he's figured out anything interesting

>>36133979
>Check the switchboard

>>36133979
>Ask Paul if he's figured out anything interesting

>>36133979
>Check the switchboard

>>36133979
>Check the Switchboard

>>36133979

Slitting someone's throat is a messy thing, and you see a trail of blood drops, probably from the killer's weapon, leading toward the swtichboard.

Heck, it looks like they wiped their knife off on the desk, judging by that big smear, and there's some blood on a couple of the switches, an da few other drabs on the switchboard.

"I've figured it out it," Paul says, directly into your ear. You jump about six inches, and you can feel your heart start to pound. You can't be mad at him, though - it's not as if he yelled.

"What is it?" you ask, "my donuts are off-center?"

"No, but they did help me see what was going on," he tells you, "can you do something with the switchboard for me?"

"I'm looking at it right now," you say, "what?"

"Try any of the big switches on the left side that look like they've been recently used," he says, "I've got a theory."

Honestly, you like pushing buttons. And this time, you have the permission of someone who might be a voice of reason. When he's not worried about his mentor, that is.

So you flip a couple of the biggest switches with bloody fingerprints on them. There's a clunk, and a rumbling sound, but nothing else seems to happen. Your heart rate is finally getting back to normal.

Then the warehouse floor opens.

>>36134565
>META POST

And we're done for this morning. Sorry about the slowdown toward the end - I need to stop doing that.

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 (so I can go to bed now, and still get to them eventually): http://ask.fm/haikudeluge

Heck, you could use ask.fm for anonymous comments too.

SESSION STATS:

Phone Numbers Obtained: None
Delivery Completed: None [Progress On: The Old Man And The Look-See]
Bonus Objectives Fulfilled: Backflip; Ramming Speed; Message In A Bottle; What Happened Here?; Littlest Boss; CSI: The City
Bonus Objectives Missed: 2Spook; Calling Into The Night; Question The System

>>36134727
nice cliffhanger, thanks for running

>>36134727
Thanks for the thread dude, I love this quest.

>>36134740
>>36134783

Glad you guys are enjoying it.

What do you particularly enjoy about it? What elements get in the way of your enjoyment?

>>36134727
2spook: leave
Calling into the night: Send out an open frequency radio hail
Question the system: answer Paul's questions in a way that isn't "What?"

>>36134818
I'd say don't change a thing man. This quest just moved up to 2nd favorite on tg because German schteel makes me grief.

>>36134818
>What elements get in the way of your enjoyment?
nothing from you

>>36134823
i think question the system was directly "try to check the informatics"

>>36134818
It's stupid, but these thread stats are really fun. Also dumb, but I like how structured your thread is: >>36127137 >>36134727

Use more art I guess? I don't know what to complain about.

>>36134849
Fuck off with that shit, keep it to qtg.

>>36134823
1: Bingo.
2: Bango
3: Bongo

Missed Objectives are points where I can identify things going in a different direction if you chose a different prompt, or things that would have been objectives if you had done them.

Unfortunately, this session wasn't all that open-ended. 2spook and hailing on an open frequency were the two big breakpoints, in the absence of any write-ins.

>>36134849
Did PTQ move beyond "these girls want to bang you even though you're an unwashed shyster"?

If so, I might try it again.

>>36134883
>use more art

My cyberpunk/futuristic art folder is pretty thin in some directions. I have a lot more usable character art than I have landscapes, for instance. I should fix that.

>>36134969
>Did PTQ move beyond "these girls want to bang you even though you're an unwashed shyster"?

One of them is dead, ill leave it a that. Check out the current qtg for more info.

>>36134969
>>36134996
qtg is toxic, just read the archives. and skip the 5th one until GS starts the sequel and fixes this mess.

>>36135032
Is it as good as Sekirei Quest's blowup? That was hilarious.

>>36135046
if by hilarious you mean I was grieving like someone I knew died then yes.
also never heard of it.

>>36135046
long story short, GS killed off someone because his dog died and though we should suffer too.

>>36135046
As someone watching from the sidelines with no investment in the quest it has been pretty funny.

Whoever asked about 'how cyberpunk is CMCQ ?' on the ask.fm - that's a great question, and I'll get to it eventually.

I still have to formulate my thoughts on it. Cyberpunk is a complex topic.

But the short answer is "It's cyberpunk enough to call itself cyberpunk with a straight face."

Thank you all for playing - it's been fun.

Goodnight.

>>36135127
Also, more questions is more fun.

Glad I finally jumped on the ask.fm thing.

>>36135106
I'll have to check it out then.

>>36135106
I want to be angry and butt hurt about that comment but all I feel is empty.

>>36135151
thanks for the thread man.

>>36135151
Night Haiku

>>36134969
>If so, I might try it again
Don't, save yourself from it, Schteel utterly destroyed it in the last and final thread of it, turned it upside down and burnt it all to the ground and turned it into grimderp depressing shit out of nowhere

>>36135094
Fucking pathetic that he shat it up and turned it inside out just because of that.

He went from one of my favorite QM's to someone I would not tell the time of day

>>36133456
Sorry to bump unnecessarily, but"Reflection index" only gives results of 'Refraction Index' in Google - does this mean we might be bumping into an Asset with optical camouflage/cloaking tech?

>>36136372
No, it's a result of me accidentally conflating Refractive Index and Reflectivity.

Good catch.

The correct term would have been Reflectivity. In Watsonian terms, you can chalk it up to Paul just letting his mouth run as he thinks.