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>>36292845

The chill air nips at you, and you zip your jacket up, staring across the road at the razor-wire topped walls of the Perfcor digsite. You've got to hand it to Sadie - putting a restaurant directly across from the corp installation's wide gate was a stroke of genius. The horde of hungry shift workers is good business.

Leaning back against the restaurant's front wall, you survey the compound's gate. Wide enough for two, maybe even three haulers to pass through at a time, with heavy sliding steel doors, it looks like the most secure thing for blocks around. Of course, you think as you wait, that's because it's meant to keep things in as much as to keep them out.

Once you swallow the seeds, as they say, you can't come back to the surface. Exposure to the deadly nanoconstructors is every digger's worst nightmare, for good reason, even if it does mean a healthy dose of cash for their dependents.

The forceful swing of the restaurant door and the jingle of bells interrupts that happy train of thought. The man in blue steps confidently out onto the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, sunglasses reflecting the dead gray clouds.

Well, your wait's over. Time to find out why this guy sounds so familiar.

>Have we met somewhere before?
>Fancy meeting you here
>Write In

>>36293076
>Fancy meeting you here

>>36293076
>Fancy meeting you here

>>36293076
>Dial Greers number we think it's him right?

>>36293194
I think it's the cop, whatever his name was

>>36293076
>Write In
Fancy meeting you here slowpoke.

>>36293076

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: http://ask.fm/haikudeluge


LAST SESSION'S STATS:
Phone Numbers Obtained: Arty
Delivery Completed: N/A
Bonus Objectives Fulfilled: Auto-Erotica II; Sadie's Seconds; Sitting in the Corner; Five Guys Burgers and Fries; Drillin' for Info, Siftin' for Truth
Bonus Objectives Missed: Frowning Jack's; Imperium; Ice; Barstool Neighbours; On the Fritz; Pushing, Pushing

LIST OF KNOWN PHONE NUMBERS:
Dr. Morrison, Ryan, Greer (deceased), Alice, Paul, The Bookstore, Arty

LIST OF IMPORTANT-SOUNDING TOPICS:
Typhon Project; Dagon Core; The Seed

>>36293213
Oh.
>>36293076
"I didn't know that Sadie's served donuts... Or lets pigs in."

>>36293277
We probably shouldn't call him pig til we're on our bike.

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>>36293076

"Fancy meeting you here, slowpoke," you drawl at him. He turns toward you, then stalks past you, "I didn't know Sadie's served donuts."

"Of all the greasy spoons, in all the sectors, in all the city," he says, leaning back against the wall next to you, rubbing his shoulderblades into the brick, "or should go with 'I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship'?"

You can't tell whether he's looking at you, concentrating on the digsite wall, or simply staring off into the distance. You never did like talking to people wearing sunglasses. "Did you come here for the sausage?" you ask him, a smile spreading across your face, "I've heard cannibalism has its thrills."

"Oh, come off it," he says, pulling his hands out of his pockets, "I'm not on duty for another eight hours. Besides," he continues, making an expansive, embracing gesture, "Nepcor Sector's my sty. I'm not a pig on Plutonix's turf."

>Well, you're a sorry excuse for anything else
>Once a pig, always a pig
>Then take off the glasses
>Do they let you take the bike when you're off?
>You have a name?
>Write In

>>36293719
>>You have a name?

>>36293719
>Do they let you take the bike when you're off?

>>36293719
>Do they let you take the bike when you're off?
+
Name

>>36293719
>Then take off the glasses
>Do they let you take the bike when you're off?

>>36293719
>Then take off the glasses
>Do they let you take the bike when you're off?

>>36293719
>Do they let you take the bike when you're off?

>>36293719
You know the info we got off the miners. I wonder how much it's worth to our info broker?

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>>36293719
>If I take the glasses off, would you die?

Can he be a big guy for us?

>>36293894
"What? no. why would I die if I took my glasses off?"

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>>36293894
I sure hope he's a big guy.

>>36293894
Gotta admit pulling off such an old joke meme, it's so retro.

>>36293948
He's not a motorcycle. Get lost hetrofag.
only kidding

>>36293719
>Then take off the glasses
>You have a name?
Segue to
>Do they let you take the bike when you're off?

>>36293719
I like this guys idea. >>36294002

>>36293977
What if we both do it on his motorcycle? That'd fit with our motorcycle sexuality, right?

>>36293977
Why not have a sexy bike and rider foursome?
I'm only kidding Haiku. I would not vote for that.

i'm laughing now because I'm just picturing her making any boys she brings home to dress up like a motorcycle.

>>36294167
>"Are you sure I need to wear this...?"
"Yes I'm sure! Now get over here and let me rev your engine!"

>>36294181
"Okay let me jus-"
"Stop talking, you're ruining this for me."

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>>36294167
If it's just a mechanical fetish, do you think it would trigger on a guy with augmented limbs?

So far, we haven't run across anyone displaying them.

>>36294237
"Go faster! Faster!"
"I-I can't!"
"Come on, you're a better motorcycle than this! Faster!"
"Y-yes Ma'am..."

>>36294241
Sure.

>>36294241
>If it's just a mechanical fetish,
It's motorcycles, anon.

>>36294274
I'm totally fine with it being machine things in general.

>>36294296
I'd also be fine if it were just machines, but if it's motorcycle exclusive it'd be amusing.

>>36293719

"Then would it kill you to take the glasses off?" you ask him, looking sideways at the offending eyewear. Who knows if you're making eye contact.

"Oh," he says, reaching up for them, "I forgot I was still wearing them," he finishes, as he folds them and hangs them on his breast pocket, "nobody cares you're a cop until you put on the glasses."

Huh. Without them, he's pretty passable. Not quite a sculpted face, but definitely a strong jaw and a confident nose. His blond hair looks fairly well groomed, especially for someone who spends most of their time wearing a helmet. You know all about that hell.

"Do they let you have the bike when you're off duty?" you ask, actually making eye contact this time. His eyes are nothing special - he's certainly not giving Fritz's blue searchlights a run for their money, but they look honest, maybe even a little soft.

Yeah, you can see why he'd need the glasses to project that aura of "fuck with me, fuck with the billions behind my back" any good corp cop should ooze.

"I wish," he tells you, smiling ruefully, "but it's gotta be back home by midnight, or it turns into a pumpkin. My own bike's around the corner, but it's nothing like a match for yours. Speaking of which," he says, turning his head to look down at you, "would you mind showing me your bike? I want to see what you've done with it."

>Only if you tell me your name
>I'd like to get a load of yours first
>You'll have to catch me on it first
>Write In

>>36294458
>Only if you tell me your name

>>36294458
>Only if you tell me your name

>>36294458
>Only if you tell me your name.
>Write in: And you give me your number. Personal phone, not work phone.

We must collect all the numbers! Add a wink or something at the end of the write in for effect.

>>36294458
>>Only if you tell me your name
>>36294516
Later

>>36294458
>You'll have to catch me on it first

we practically just met him. No way we're going to let him paw at our bike.

Besides, we'd have to take him back to our apartment to show it off, and I'm not comfortable with that. We ARE wanted by his corp.

Should still ask for his name, though.

>>36294516
>We must collect all the numbers! Add a wink or something at the end of the write in for effect.
Goal: Make every hot male in the city eskimo brothers

>>36294458
>Only if you tell me your name

>>36294534
Pretty sure we rode our bike here, so it's with us.

>>36294581
Yup, we've got it pretty close

>>36294581
I'm pretty sure we walked to Sadie's. No mention of us parking our bike in the last thread.

>>36294669
But we did bring our bike out of our appartment, so why would we not ride it to Sadie's?

We rode our bike I think.

>>36294458
>>Only if you tell me your name
> and give me your number

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>>36294458

"Only if you tell me your name first," you say, locking eyes with him, "I should at least know who's chasing me." Leaning against a dirty wall with a cop like a pair of old-school delinquents wasn't what you'd planned for today, but it's a nice break from the routine.

"I'm James," he tells you, levering himself away from the wall, "James Murgatroyd."

"That's quite a mouthful for a cop's last name," you tell him as you step off down the sidewalk, "dispatch ever have any problems with it?"

"All the time," he says, falling into step next to you, hard-soled shoes tapping on the concrete, "I once found a petition on my desk asking me to change my name to 'Murphy'," he smiles, throwing his head back, "signed by the entire dispatch crew."

"So," he asks, as the two of you turn down the alley next to Sadie's, "what's your name?"

"Laura," you tell him, "and there's my bike."

You're not quite sure he hears your name. By the time you're done speaking, he's pacing the half circle around your steel steed, eyes fixed on it, flickering up and down its clean steel lines.

A rare beam of sunlight stabs down between the buildings - high noon through a hole in the clouds. The buttery light spreads across your bike, picking out its sleek curves and shining steel. Dust motes dance through the shining pillar, pretending it's their spotlight, but James only has eyes for your bike, and he lets out a low whistle as the light bathes it in a soft, golden glow.

"It looks even better up close," he says, squatting down to take a closer look at the powerful engine, steadying himself with one hand against the alley's stained gray wall, "how much work have you done on it?" he asks, craning his neck to peer into the depths of the engine.

>Not enough
>I'm not sure it has any more original parts left
>Write In

>>36295321
>>Not enough
>>I'm not sure it has any more original parts left

>>36295321
>I'm not sure it has any more original parts left

I like this guy.

>>36295321
>I'm not sure it has any more original parts left
But still there is always something better so...
>Not enough

>>36295321
>I'm not sure it has any more original parts left

>>36295321
>>I'm not sure it has any more original parts left
And yet its
>>Not enough

>>36295374
Pretty much this.

>>36295321
>Not enough
>I'm not sure it has any more original parts left
Heavens to Murgatroyd, Snagglepuss

>>36295321
>Not enough
>She gets a lot of rough treatment because of my line of work, I don't think there's a single original part left on her.

>>36295321
>Not enough
>I'm not sure it has any more original parts left

>>36295321
>>I'm not sure it has any more original parts left
I'd spout technical jargon... but I don't know anything about motorcycles.

>>36295321
>>Not enough
New husbando also has a bike fetish, I think he's a keeper.

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>>36295321

"I'm not sure it has any original parts left," you tell him, leaning back against the opposite wall of the alley, "my line of work is rough on bikes."

"Neither is mine," James says, looking intently at the front wheel, "but they don't let us customize ours. Of course," he says, turning to you with a grin, "I'm good friends with all the station mechanics. Nice nano-grip tires you've got on here."

"Thanks," you tell him, "they've been a good investment."

"Sub-microscopic grip enhancement," he mumbles, getting down on one knee and squinting at the treads as if his eyes could make out the tiny structures, "that's what they say, right? Do they make a difference?"

Oh yes, they've probably saved your life, or at least your courier runs, twice in the past week. Only your bulletproof jacket has been more useful, you think as draw it tighter against the cold, folding your arms across your chest.

"A pretty big one," you tell him, "they're the most recent upgrade, but I'm a long way from being done."

"Yeah," he says, straightening back up, "I know how that feels. At least it's just a bike, though," he continues, staring down the alley, into the street. Your follow his eyes, but there's nothing out there but the digsite wall, "you ever walk into a room and a guy's got his arm's parts all over his desk, like it's just a big watch, and a screwdriver in his other hand, putting in a new chip or a titanium strut or something?"

You look back at his face, as he stares off into the distance at something you can't see. Yeah, this guy really needs the sunglasses to be intimidating, despite the natural muscles you can see bunching beneath his shirtsleeves as he dusts his knees off. He's a bit soft, if an aug arm shakes him up that much.

>No, haven't seen that
>Part of a normal day for you?
>Let the moment pass, then ask to see his personal bike
>Write In

>>36295988
>>Part of a normal day for you?

>>36295988
>No, haven't seen that
>Part of a normal day for you?

>>36295988
>>Part of a normal day for you?

>>36295988
>>Part of a normal day for you?

>>36295988
>Part of a normal day for you?

>>36295988
>No, haven't seen that
>Part of a normal day for you?

>>36295988
>"What do you mean "just a bike"?"

>>36296274
He's talking about the difference between upgrading a bike than modifying the human body.

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>>36295988

"Got to say I haven't seen that before," you say, suddenly interested in an old water stain on the opposite wall of the alley, "part of a normal day for you?"

"Not really - nevermind," he says slowly, and tears his eyes away from the end of the alley, "you've got a great bike. I'm surprised the suspension took the jump off the highway so well," he says, as his eyes flicker back to you, "sorry for rambling there. Tired after my shift. I should probably get going."

Lot of that going around today, you think as he turns and starts walking toward the end of the alley. His shoe crunches something, a shard of a bottle lying on the dirty concrete. The ray of sunlight disappeared a while ago, the sky returning to its usual iron gray. It's almost dark in the alley, even though it's a little after noon.

Well, tall buildings will do that, you think as you watch him walk toward the street, silhouetted against the digsite wall in the distance, footfalls echoing between the hard concrete on either side. A shiver runs through you - it's cold out today, and the wall you're leaning against has been draining the warmth from your back.

You can't decide whether or not to follow those plodding steps.

>At least you've got all day before you have to go back to the sty
>Get some rest
>You want to show me your bike?
>Just let him leave
>Write In

>>36296642
>>You want to show me your bike?

>>36296642
>Offer him a ride Not that kind!
>Get his number

>>36296642
>Just let him leave

Well, he let a bit more slip than he meant to. Say something friendly as a goodbye.

>>36296642
>You want to show me your bike?

>>36296642
>>Just let him leave
"I would say catch you later, but I suppose that's your line."

>>36296642
>>Just let him leave
You'll have to show me yours at some point!

>>36296642
>You want to show me your bike?

>>36296642
>Just let him leave
"Let's meet again sometime, but not professionally."

>>36296642
>>You want to show me your bike?

>>36296642

"Could I see your bike?" you finally ask, when he's three feet from the sidewalk proper.

He stops, leaning with one hand around the front corner of the building, looks at you, and he's got those damn sunglasses on again, "maybe some other time," he says, with the faintest ghost of a smile.

"Well," you say, grinning a bit, and scuffing one boot on the ground, "I would say catch you later, but I guess that's your line."

He sags a bit, a shadow against the relative brightness of the street, a drooping pennant with no wind in sight. Wearily, the cold breeze comes down the alley, you can feel it sift through your hair. It ripples a couple of hanging folds in James' shirt as it passes.

"Yeah," he agrees, head turned toward you, eyes pointed who knows where behind those dark lenses, "I guess it is. Catch you later," he says as he shoves off from the wall.

Three sharp, echoing steps later, he's around the corner, walking back to wherever he stabled his bike. You lean back into the cool, solid wall behind you, eyeing a scrap of trash blowing down the alley, past your chained bike.

That could have gone better. Not that it's your fault, of course, you think as you stalk toward your motorcycle. What the hell kind of minefield is that guy, anyway?

You release the bike and mount it, glad to feel its familiar bulk supporting you. However badly the end of it went, you've still got a glow of pride from the praise the cop had for your steed.

>See if Davey's interested in the info you picked up from the miners
>See if Thomson, the local sector info broker, is interested in the info you picked up from the miners
>Write In

>>36297328
>See if Thomson, the local sector info broker, is interested in the info you picked up from the miners
in his backyard he gets dibs

>>36297328
>>See if Davey's interested in the info you picked up from the miners
Well we've scored some reputation with him so he might be easier to deal with.

>>36297328
>See if Thomson, the local sector info broker, is interested in the info you picked up from the miners

I'm still a little miffed at Davey's assistant

>>36297328
>>See if Davey's interested in the info you picked up from the miners

>>36297328
>See if Thomson, the local sector info broker, is interested in the info you picked up from the miners

Since it's his sector, he's more likely to care. We should cultivate all the connections we can.

>>36297390
>miffed at Paul

Why?

>>36297422
he sold us out. even if it was just business.

>>36297444
Guess I forgot about that. I was falling asleep when that happened, I think.

>>36297444
He actually didn't give all the information he could have. I'm fine with it.

>>36297328
>See if Thomson, the local sector info broker, is interested in the info you picked up from the miners
it's his sector, he should be more interested and have more interesting info to trade

>>36297328
>See if Davey's interested in the info you picked up from the miners

>>36297328
>See if Davey's interested in the info you picked up from the miners

>>36297328
See if Davey's interested in the info you picked up from the miners

>>36297328
(1/2)

It's time to visit your friendly neighborhood info broker.

You heard about something very interesting this morning. A room-sized steel vault, found down in Perfcor's Old City diggings. Of course, the miners you heard it from are probably sleeping for the next seven hours, so you might be the only person who currently has the info.

And rarity determines worth, you think as you start your bike and kick off.

Besides, you've been meaning to visit Thomson for a while. About three months ago, the Plutonix sector info broker, an old spider, was assassinated, right in the middle of his web. That kicked off the biggest struggle you've ever seen up close in the twilight world of half-legal deals and high-speed chases you inhabit.

You set a course for the bar Thomson's known to hang around in, when there's nothing interesting enough going on for him to be buzzing about. They call him 'the barfly', the term doubly apt, since he's a fly-style info broker, bumbling around and doing most of his information gathering himself.

There was absolute chaos after the big spider died. Lesser info brokers and a few opportunists from other sectors tried to fill the gap, turning the death into the closest thing you could have to a war without dragging the corps into it. Information was cheap, with the would-be brokers competing heavily with each other, but, in the chaos, nobody ever knew whether the broker they trusted would be around tomorrow.

>>36298291
(2/2)

You park and chain your bike in front of the Swaying Thracian, the bar where Thomson, the clear winner of the struggle, can usually be found. There's a crude mural of a man in ancient Greek dress being hung with a noose made of grapevine on the side of the building, which features a bar on the ground floor, then apartments or assorted offices up to the top.

It's simply furnished inside, mostly efficient scavenged metal furniture, some made from mangled piece of mining equipment, other pieces roughly hewn from scrapped concrete chunks by uncaring power tools. Grape vines daubed garishly on the concrete ceiling make for the only concession to atmosphere.

The bar's almost empty. Night shifters have gone home, and the day shift is in full swing. The barkeep nods to you, as he polishes a strange-looking collection of glasses and battered metal cups, many of which might have held chemicals at some point in their life.

Toxic chemicals, not intoxicating ones.

You can smell the bite of alcohol hanging in the air like the filmy ghost of good times past, or the promise of bad ones to come. It's probably a homier place at night, with the lights on. Right now, it's lit by the sullen gray gleam the glowering clouds let through.

Maybe it'll rain tonight.

>Order a drink, then find Thomson
>Find Thomson
>Write In

This was already mostly written by the time >>36298007 and >>36298015 popped up. Probably should have tossed a 'voting over'.

>>36298344
>Order a drink, then find Thomson.

An info broker like this guy doesn't seem the type to be found looking for him, he seems more the type to come to us when we get our drink. Just my opinion.

>>36298344
>Order a drink, then find Thomson

>>36298344
>>Order a drink, then find Thomson

>>36298344
>Order a drink, then find Thomson
i'm sure he'll come to us soon enough

>>36298344
Christ, but this future sounds depressing.

It almost feels post-apocalyptic, but with the more crushing trappings of modernity still along for the ride.

>>36298344
>>Order a drink, then find Thomson

>>36298344

Might as well get a drink while you're here. A quick glance around the room didn't find Thomson, and honestly, you're feeling pretty drained after that scene with James.

What was his deal, anyway?

You walk up to the bar and perch atop a large chunk of concrete, which might have once held up an overpass, back in the day when it had a worthy purpose. Surprisingly, it's a pretty comfortable seat, although you can feel the cold start to seep through your jeans.

Elbows on the counter, you lean forward, the reinforced elbows of your jacket grabbing the rough concrete slab as you look at the bartender.

Swarthy complexion over a dark and curly beard, gray stains over a once-white apron, a genial expression over rough-cut features, the bartender turns toward you.

"Bit early to be drinking," he says, wiping out a metal cylinder, "isn't it?"

"It's five o'clock somewhere," you say, looking across the bar at him. On closer inspection, you can see gray and even white hairs here and there in his beard and hair, but his eyes still have some twinkle in them, "you know where I could find Thomson?"

"He's out right now," the bartender tells you, a phrase the sounds like he's slid it across the bar so many times the bottom shines, "but he'll probably be back soon. Want something while you wait?"

>Sure, I'll take a [Write In]
>Write In anything you'd like to chat with the bartender about

>>36298818
>Sure, I'll take a [Write In]

Vodka!

>>36298818
>Sure, I'll take a [Write In]
Screwdriver

>>36298818
"got anything special?"
might as well try the weird stuff

>>36298818
Jack Daniels and Coke.

>>36298818
White Russian

>>36298818
>Sure, I'll take a [Write In]

Irish Coffee

>>36298818
>>Sure, I'll take a [Write In]
Gin and Tonic

>>36298918
Yes, yes, White Russian! I approve!

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>>36298921

>>36298942
A White Russian fit for a Dude. We must have one and be very Dudely.

>>36298818

"Sure," you say, "I'll take a White Russian."

"Hot or cold?" the barkeep asks, one bushy eyebrow quivering a full half inch above its mate.

"Hot, please," you say, even though you're sure it's some sort of blasphemy. Today's too cold for an iced drink, if this place even has any ice.

The only thing you're sure this bar has is booze. All the money that didn't go into the furnishings seems to have flown straight toward the wall in back of the bartender, and come to roost as a flock of bottles on steel shelving. You suppose the bottles are their own sort of decor.

The barkeep grabs a coffee liquor and a brand of vodka you don't recognize, then produces what looks like a pitcher of cream from underneath the counter. Huh. Maybe they do have ice here, after all.

You watch as he mixes the drink, your head resting atop folded hands on the concrete bar. He makes it with hot coffee, and even warms the cream before stacking it all expertly in the most normal glass you've seen here yet.

It's good, and, more importantly, it's warm. You pay, tip, and sip on the drink appreciatively.

>Ask the bartender about his establishment (Write In anything specific)
>Ask about Thomson
>You've got your drink, it's time to meet the man you came here to see
>Write In

>>36299181
>You've got your drink, it's time to meet the man you came here to see.

No point in dilly-dallying.

>>36299181
>>You've got your drink, it's time to meet the man you came here to see

>>36299181
>You've got your drink, it's time to meet the man you came here to see

>>36299181
>You've got your drink, it's time to meet the man you came here to see

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>>36299181

Suddenly the door bursts open, sending a wave of cold air across your back. You turn in your seat, denim scraping over concrete, one hand reaching for your gun.

"Basil!" the man calls out, strolling up to the bar with hands spread wide, as if to embrace the world, "double shot of the strong stuff. The strong cheap stuff!"

Stubble, gray shirt and red tie with the collar left unbuttoned, and a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

Thomson.

Looking at him, it's hard to believe this is the ex-cop who somehow came out on top of the writhing heap of would-be Plutonix sector info brokers. Listening to his good cheer, it's a little easier to understand, although you wonder whether the red in his cheeks is from the nippy weather or a few nips of booze.

You take another sip of your drink as you watch Basil pour a clear liquid from a bottle with a label you don't quite see into a beat-up piece of metal that might have started life as a pipe endcap. The info broker carefully holds his cigarette away from the cup and the bottle, you notice.

Maybe you don't see the label, but you catch a whiff of the stuff before Thomson tosses it back, and you're pretty sure it's a good 190 proof or more.

Damn.

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>>36299700

"Mr. Thomson, I presume?" you say as he slams the scrounged cup onto the counter and sucks cold air through his doubtlessly burning mouth.

"At your service," he says, and takes a drag of the cigarette, " but there's no need for the mister. Who might you be? Wait, don't tell me, I should know it already," he declaims, setting his foot atop the next concrete block seat, and striking a pose like a pirate captain.

You're not quite sure how to respond, so you take another sip of your warm drink and wait.

"You're the courier who lives in block 31!" he comes up with after a few seconds, "Laura, I think. Pleased to meet you!"

>Pleased to meet you too
>I've got some information you might be interested in
>How much longer are you going to be conscious?
>I'm actually looking for some information on [Dagon Core, Project Typhon, The Seed, etc.]

>>36299712
>>Pleased to meet you too
>>I've got some information you might be interested in

>>36299712
>>Pleased to meet you too
>>I've got some information you might be interested in

>>36299712
>Pleased to meet you too
>I've got some information you might be interested in

>>36299712
>>Pleased to meet you too
>>I've got some information you might be interested in

>>36299712
>>Pleased to meet you too
>I've got some information you might be interested in
for
>I'm actually looking for some information on [Dagon Core, Project Typhon, The Seed, etc.]

>>36299712
>>Pleased to meet you too
>>I've got some information you might be interested in
>>I'm actually looking for some information on Dagon Core

Politely propose an exchange of info, and inquire how much the info on Dagon would cost.

>>36299861
I'd rather just get dosh for this info, not more info, since we don't really need it right now.

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>>36299871
>semi-autonomous corp assault team
>possibly out to avenge a member we killed
>don't need info on them right now

It's like you want to die, anon.

>>36299871
We don't really need cash either.

>>36299895
plus, if we could sell the info we get from him to other brokers

>>36299894
I'm sort of doubting that they'll really come after us, unless the Asset had a camera implant so they can figure out who we actually are somehow. They have very little to go on, unless they pay out the ass with info brokers.

>>36299944
We ran a Nepcor cop roadblock on the highway to the Danger Zone.

Dagon Core is a Nepcor group.

We also whacked a drone on our way in, and had a good bit of intercept-able radio traffic with Greer right before the asset attacked.

They probably know who we are.

>>36299989
Oh yeah... Kind of forgot they were Nepcor. Whoops.

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>>36299989
>that list
>we just gave a Nepcor cop our name, and a good look at our bike
>at least one info broker can recall where we live in seconds

>>36300064
We also forgot to get that cop's number. Whoops?

>>36300064
we probably made a lot of noise killing an asset and saving an info booker, of course they'd hear about us.

>>36300082
By the way, just had a thought... Do we intend to ever call the guys who give us their numbers? We've collected two random dude's numbers so far, we should set up a date with one or something for fun!

>>36300117
maybe we can do that tonight (in game). If we don't get sucked into another delivery.

>>36300213
That would be fun, I wonder if we can even turn down jobs we don't feel like doing. Do we even get days off?

>>36300231
Today is our day off.

>>36300241
Eh, I wouldn't call this a day off. Technically we're still doing business and work-related stuff. A real day off would be no info brokering or courier jobs.

>>36300117
My impression was we just liked collecting numbers despite never using them. Besides, the first guy is a security goon that'll be one of the first to die in an attack and the second we got because he looked like a lead on something interesting.

>>36299712

"Pleased to meet you too," you say, turning toward him, one elbow still propped on the bar, "I've got some information you might be interested in."

His smile gets bigger, if that's even possible. "You're as professional and to-the-point as I've heard, Laura," he says, waving his cigarette emphatically through the air, "do you mind if we discuss this somewhere a little more private? Not that I don't trust you, Basil," he says, turning toward the barkeep, "I trust you with my life, but anyone could walk on in here, or be listening outside," he finishes, cupping one hand to his ear dramatically. You fear he might do some serious damage with that cigarette - it's dangerously close to his messy black hair.

"How private are we talking about?" you ask, eyes fixed on the lit tip of his cigarette.

"He's got an office upstairs," Basil chimes in, as he washes the pipe end, "it's where he does most of his business here."

That sounds alright, and if things do get too crazy, you do have your gun.

"Sure," you say, oozing off of the concrete block, carefully holding your drink steady, "sounds fine to me."

"Great!" Thomson says, abandoning his pose and starting for the stairs, "follow me!"

>>36300273
It started as a day off, we just overheard some potentially juicy info, one thing lead to the next...

>>36300298

You follow the energetic info broker up two flights of concrete stairs to the second story. The hallway is the dingy gray you've come to accept as the Plutonix sector default, lit dimly through windows at either end.

Waiting for the info broker to unlock his room gives you more than enough time to take in the hallway's utter lack of character. These people don't even have interesting locks.

Thomson's office, however, is well worth the wait. You don't know, or care, how he got the matching pair of overstuffed couches that dominate the room, or how he affords to heat it to a balmy temperature at this time of year - you just enjoy it. You're on a couch with your coat unzipped almost before he re-locks the door.

Unzipping your coat gives you faster access to your pistol, of course, in case something goes wrong. You're still not sure about this guy.

Of course, he looks anything but threatening as throws his tie sloppily over a hatrack and flops down on the opposite couch.

"So," Thomson says, the picture of indolence, one leg crooked over the back of the couch, sucking on his cigarette, "what have you got for me this fine afternoon?"

>What's your pricing like?
>How long are you going to be conscious?
>it's about the Perfcor digsite
>Nice place you've got here
>Write In

[Also, specify the tone you'd like to take with this guy.]

>>36300285
Well we don't have to use the numbers to get boyfriends or anything, but getting taken out on a date or two is nice. Besides, our motorcycle is our one true love anyway.

>>36300285
Whats the point in that? There's more to husbandoing than getting digits.
Like motorcycles, for instance.

>>36300319
>What's your pricing like?
>It's about the Perfcor digsite.

>>36300319
How's the sex life?

But seriously
>What's your pricing like?

>>36300338
Oops, forgot to suggest a tone. I guess friendly but professional?

>>36300319
>What's your pricing like?
>it's about the Perfcor digsite
friendly but professional tone?

>>36300328
We can get guys and motorcycles at the same time, it's genius!

>META POST

I was thinking I'd throw more characters in the mix before asking "Who ya gonna call?", to avoid the infamous specter of "well, this new character seems interesting, but we've already spent so much time hanging out with this person we met in thread three it's just not worth it", which I've seen in other quests, or the equally horrifying "the QM is forcing the latecomer down our throats to the exclusion of characters we met earlier on and liked".

I realize that what I'm doing may be no solution at all (or that the potential problems aren't really issues), so if you've got opinions, I'd love to hear them.

>>36300319
>Nice place you've got here
>it's about the Perfcor digsite

>>36300442
Eh, I'm cool with that. I don't mind waiting for more characters to call, it's just if we wait too long some guys might get pissed about that.

>>36300319
>>Nice place you've got here
then
>What's your pricing like?
then
>it's about the Perfcor digsite

>>36300442
Can't we just be the type who starts off casually and goes on a few dates before committing to a serious relationship? Be nice to get to know the potential husbandos a bit before routelocking.

>>36300491
I kind of like this idea, being more casual about it all instead of falling over the first man to take us on a date sounds nice.

Ryan: More of joke
Arty: I think peeps wanted his number to follow up on the digsite more than anything else
Paul: Could be interesting.
James: Has that fun opposites sides of the law dynamic. Also motorcycles.

>>36300538
Well you never know, Ryan or Arty could be really sweet guys. You won't know until we give them a chance, at least one date, right?

>>36300472
Yeah, I get that.

It's worth noting that you guys can write in "Let's call _____" anytime ya want, and I'll roll with it. Some of these guys have schedules (Arty's on the digsite night shift, etc.), but you know about those already.

>>36300491
>>36300529
That would be my intent.

My concerns are mostly meta-narrative - casually doing anything with any character might eat half a thread, an entire thread, or more (depending on how many people who want you dead are also eating out at that restaurant on that night).

>>36300538
I like these summaries.

I'll be honest: I hate the romantic options in quests. I've seen way too many of them ground to a halt due to waifu/husbando wars. Even if one side wins out, the losing side often gets vindictive and sabotages decisions.

>>36300586
I'd like to think the player base of this Quest is better than that. Though I know it's likely just a dream.

>>36300549
Meh I'd rather shoot things and run away from pissed off cops and aug'd up mercs, but thats just me.

>>36300566
Well, I can understand the meta-narrative concern. But it might be interesting to at least go on one or two dates, we should at least try to have a bit of a social life outside of work. We could attempt it and see how it goes, but it's up to you in the end.

>>36300607
Nothing wrong with that, and I respect your opinion.

>>36300607
This. I'd rather not go on dates when we could be doing something actually interesting.

>>36300618
>social life outside of work.

Hey HD, does Laura have any female friends that she hangs out with before we took control or are we morphing it as we go?

>>36300622
i'd rather not cheat on our bilke, just in case we got a Christine-like deal

>>36300319

"What's your pricing like?" you ask the info broker, as you let yourself sink into his couch. It's the most comfortable you've been since you climbed out of your pile of stuffed animals - soft, warm, and this time, the warmth won't go away if you stretch out and disarrange things.

"If someone comes to me with information," he says, then blows a column of smoke toward the ceiling, "I'll trade them information. If someone comes to me with cash, I'll trade them information. It's a simple business model, really. Working out equivalent values," he pauses, waving his arms out languidly, "eh. Whatever makes us both the least irritated, or at least equally irritated."

This guy operates completely differently than Davey and Paul seem to, from what little you've seen of their business.

"Sounds reasonable, I guess," you say, just happy to be this comfy, "I picked up something fresh from a miner coming off-shift at the Perfcor Old City digsite this morning."

"Oh?" Thomson asks, suddenly shifting his glance from an idle consideration of the ceiling to a concentrated stare at you, "and what are you looking for in return?"

"I'm looking for some information on..."

>Dagon Core
>The Seed
>The Typhon Project
>Write In a name (or even a description, and I'll remember the name for you)
>Your Sex Life

>>36300651
>Dragon Core.

Might as well.

>>36300651
>Dagon Core

>>36300566
If the interactions are casual in nature I wouldn't mind if you streamlined the interactions a little. Like say keep the dialogue to the important bits and just describe how the rest of date went from Laura's perspective, or something.

Unless of course you opt to include the character in quest relevant events, like a shootout in a place they went to for dinner. Getting Laura's work and love life muddled up could make for some interesting situations I think.

>>36300651
>>Dagon Core

>>36300651
>The Seed
mhmm
i really want to dig there, i'm sure we can strike a deal...

>>36300651
>>The Seed
>Your Sex Life

>>36300651
>>Dagon Core

>>Your Sex Life
If Laura keeps this up she'll be an info trader on her on right.

>>36300651
>>Dagon Core

>>36300671
Kinda the reason I wouldn't mind something with James, the characters would intertwine alot cause of their respective jobs.

>>36300586
I was a MGNQ fan (yes, I know I have shit taste). I know that feeling well.

>>36300607
>>36300622
See, this is what I need to hear. I want to give you guys what you want.

But I need to know what that is.

>implying dates wouldn't turn into shooting things and running away from cops and mercs

>>36300671
Beat me to it.

>>36300642
This is a tricky one. I'm very hesitant to put in a character and say "you've known them for so long, and this is your relationship with them!"

The other approach, with no predetermined relationships (what I've done so far), makes it seem like the MC hatched, fully grown, from an Adventurer Egg, but I feel that that's a worthwhile price to pay.

I'd like input on this one, actually.

>>36300781
I don't mind being a blank slate character, it lets us develop her as a person and enjoy experiences for the first time with her.

>>36300781
Why not have a vote on what sort of long time girlfriend we hang with, as a sort of a character making decision. Sorta like the one we had on the MC's name or her augments or lack thereof?

>>36300939
She's also a Cop/Merc. Shenanigans ensue.

>>36300939
Everyone we already know is (or was, when we knew them) a courier. Not only are they friends, they're also rivals.

>>36300781
What if, once in a while, we meet characters we already know, and are then given a choice on the nature of our relationship with them?

>As you stir, desperately flailing in the vain hope of chasing off whatever had disturbed your slumber, your hand falls upon your still-ringing phone. Grumbling at this affront to your sleep schedule, you bring the screen to your face and are greeted with the illuminated name of your cousin Barbara.
>[] If she's calling you this late, it must be important. You hope nothing terrible has happened.
>[] Why would she be calling you out of the blue? You haven't even seen her in years!
>[] Great. What the hell could the bitch want with you?

>>36300651

"...Dagon Core," you say, watching his face carefully.

That doesn't do you much good, considering how wild his usual gesticulations and outbursts are. Sure, he flails his hands around wildly as he says, in a stage whisper, "Raynard Eriksson's little box of toy soldiers?"

"Yes," you tell him, as you sit up to take a sip of your white Russian, its warmth much less attractive in this hot room, "them."

"Now we can do this one of two ways," he says, turning until both his legs are over the back of his couch, and his back lies flat on the seat. He continues, head hanging off the front of the couch, a perfect reversal of a normal sitting position, "Either I trust you, and tell you about Dagon Core first, or you trust me, and feed me that delicious inside scoop on Perfcor first. What's it gonna be?"

"I half-expected you to say 'the easy way or the hard way'," you tell him, laying back down on your couch.

"Well," he tells you, "I was a cop once. It's only to be expected. So, who's going to have to trust first here?"

If he goes first, you think, he might give you more information than your info is actually worth. But if he does, that might be an issue for repeat business.

If you go first, you have nothing but his reputation as the sector's best info broker to trust.

You ponder, savoring the aftertaste of your drink.

>You first
>Here's what I know...

>>36301031
>Here's what I know...
Lets give him a shot. He cheats us, he loses business.

>>36301031
>Here's what I know...

We can trust this guy, I like the cut of his jib!

>>36301031
>Here's what I know...

>>36301031
>Here's what I know...
i trust this guy

>>36301031
>>Here's what I know...
I'm going to trust you. I'd like you to recipocate.

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>>36301031

"Here's what I know," you begin, and you tell the info broker everything you know about Perfcor's new find, as he slowly revolves, asking questions here and there.

"They kept the night shift boys on three hours late to prep the site," Thomson asks, upright again, "and said they were going to bring in a fresh team to break the seal, correct?"

"That's what they told me," you say, also sitting upright. It's hard to tell with him, but you think this question's a bit more important than the other ones.

"Fucking hell on a flaming bicycle doused with holy fuck," he rattles off suddenly, staring straight past you, "that means they're opening it right now. Congratulations, Laura," he continues, as he bends over and retrieves an old-style laptop from under his couch, "you're on The List. The good list," he specifies, pecking out an extremely long password on the clicking keyboard, "you have a flash drive?"

The bombast is gone, and he's not waving his arms around any more either. Hell, he's massaging his forehead with one hand

"Of course," you tell him. What kind of courier would you be without the most universal storage device?

"Great," he says, not bothering to look up from the glowing screen, "toss it over here and I'll chuck everything I've got on Dagon Core on it. You've earned it."

>Thanks
>Wait, what?
>Why is this so important?
>Write In

>>36301326
>>Wait, what?
>>Why is this so important?

>>36301326
>Thanks.

This guy, this guy I like. He doesn't fuck around with us, and gives us a good deal. I like him, and we shall have future business.

>Write In: Give him our number.

In case he wants to hire us or something, or we need to give info quickly.

>>36301326
>Wait, what?
>Why is this so important?

>>36301326
>Thanks
>Why is this so important?
If you don't mind me asking that is

Also >>36301368

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>>36301326

"Wait, what?" you ask as you toss the thumb drive to him. It's a good toss, lands right in his lap - he didn't even try to catch it, "why is this so important?"

"You offering cash, or more information for that?" he asks automatically, as he plugs the drive into his computer, "sorry," he says after a moment, his tension slackening a little as the computer starts copying the files, "that was uncalled for."

"Am I still on the List?" you ask, standing up from the couch. You've had clients like this before - he's going to want you gone as soon as those files copy, you'd bet on it.

"Yeah," he says, reading something off of the computer, "that you are."

"Could I give you my number, then?" you ask, standing in from of him as you wait for the drive.

"Laura," he says, then looks up from the computer and stares straight into your eyes, "I have your number. What I need right now," he continues, yanking the flash drive out and tossing it to you, "is a ride."

>It's my day off
>Sure, but you're paying handsomely
>I need to know what I'm getting into here
>Write In

>>36301694
>Sure, but you're paying handsomely.

Might as well give him a ride!

>>36301694
>Sure, but you're paying handsomely
it's our job after all

>>36301694
>Sure, but you're paying handsomely

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>>36301694
Done for tonight. Should continue tomorrow, with the most-voted option.

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 (and statements, anything you want me to see regarding the quest): http://ask.fm/haikudeluge


SESSION'S STATS:
Phone Numbers Obtained: N/A
Delivery Completed: N/A
Bonus Objectives Fulfilled: Smelling The Sty On Him; Crashing This Thread With No Survivors; I Like Bike, You Like Bike; Asking The Hard Questions; Swaying Thracian; White Like Russian Winter; Doubting Thomson; Trusting; Even On My Day Off;
Bonus Objectives Missed: He Seemed Familiar; Didn't Recognize You Without The Flashing Lights; Sometimes The Best Thing To Say Is Nothing At All; Advance Info; Look, You've Got A Problem; No, I Don't Trust You; Stiffing The Stiff

LIST OF KNOWN PHONE NUMBERS:
Dr. Morrison, Ryan, Greer (deceased), Alice, Paul, The Bookstore, Arty

>>36301868
thanks for running

>>36301868
Good run, Haiku. A pleasure as always to participate.

>>36301868
Not sticking around tonight, hit my ask.fm with anything you want me to answer.

I'll see anything that's in the thread tomorrow morning

>>36301887
>>36301899
Welcome, hope you enjoyed it.

>>36301868
>Sometimes The Best Thing To Say Is Nothing At All
Awww man!

>>36301694
>>Sure, but you're paying handsomely, in part with info of what I'm getting myself into.

>>36301868
Thanks for running, twas a fun thread.

>>36301998
Well we know better for next time to steer away from those topics.

>>36301694
I'll give you a ride, if you tell me how your sexlife is

>>36301694
>Sure, but you're paying handsomely

>>36301694
>>Sure, but you're paying handsomely
Time to make money!

>>36301868
Thanks for running.