>>39669902
>Try to avoid the actual area of the fighting itself, look elsewhere for Noc
Noc over everything else.

>>39669902
>Get to high ground, see what you can make out of the battle itself from there.

>>39669902
>>Get to high ground, see what you can make out of the battle itself from there.

Look around you. Look around you. Just look around you. What do you see? That's right. Noc.
>>39669974

I'm Batman.
>>39670003
>>39670133

You move like a bullet, rushing out of your room and taking the steps two at a time, a certain inhuman speed to your steps. When you reach the roof of the building, you move to the side and leap, trusting in your dheljos's power to let you glide to the next building, and the one after that. You move towards the sounds of battle until the battle itself comes into sight, and peer down.

The battle is still raging, and you spot three armed men, wearing body armor and helmets, their urban camo uniforms having red-and-gold fringes to represent their allegiance to Maghneumi. They're gathered behind cover, a dumpster, with a fourth man in the same uniform lying on the ground, a red splotch on his chest. They occasionally fire out blindly, but their attackers are keeping up the assault.

The other party to the battle is a larger group, eight or nine by your count, wearing casual, everyday clothes, and firing at the armored soldiers (or police - the line is so thin) in question.

You don't see Noc anywhere, though there are some people cowering in street fronts, caught between the two sides and unable to escape. There's a couple bodies of what look to be civilians on the street as well, though fortunately neither seems to fit Noc's profile.

>Search elsewhere, this isn't your fight.
>Noc could be trapped down there, swoop in and end things to protect him.
>Just watch the battle play out. If you see Noc, and he's in danger, then take action.
>Write-in.

>>39670257
>Just watch the battle play out. If you see Noc, and he's in danger, then take action.

>>39670257
>Search elsewhere, this isn't your fight.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

Diebreaker.
1 - >>39670297
2 - >>39670382

You shake your head, turning away from the battle. This isn't your fight, and you don't see Noc down there. You turn away, leaping from rooftop to rooftop as you try to find out where Noc went. You hit the ground, sweeping through building, going through the little shops and cafes and restaurants that litter the better parts of the slums, like crumbs tossed to vermin. None of the food's particularly good, but it's food, and it's easier than cooking for yourself.

The end result of your search is nothing, so you sweep back to your home, hoping that Noc just came home while you were distracted. Bheidho stops you before you can get to your room, placing a hand on your shoulder. It's irritating, and you chafe at his touch, but you let him draw you into his office. "Sit down," he says, with a gesture, and you do, leaning forward in your seat, your foot tapping impatiently, your knee bouncing up and down. He sits down as well, at his own seat, and the silence draws out.

"Atta, please," you say, "I'm worried about Noc. Just tell me what you want to and let me go."

"It's about Noc, actually," Bheidho explains, and you can't help but feel a sudden anxiety. "One of the kids," he says, referring to the network of informants, looking to join the gang, generally younger than ten, "saw him get picked up by the Flatliners." One of the other gangs, violent and in direct competition with Bheidho's group (technically you're the Gray Brothers, but you never much liked the name).

"Have they sent any demands, or anything?" You ask, your whole body pulsing with worry. He just shakes his head. Further questioning suggests this happened around twenty minutes ago, though Bheidho himself only learned of it a couple minutes before you got back.

>Give me a gun, let me go fuck up the Flatliners.
>Give me some guys, let me go fuck up the Flatliners.
>Well, get them to negotiate, then.
>Write-in.

>>39670714
>Give me some guys, let me go fuck up the Flatliners.

Previously, we were a sneak-thief, not an enforcer.

>>39670714
>Give me a gun, let me go fuck up the Flatliners.
>Give me some guys, let me go fuck up the Flatliners.

>>39670714
Oi Tartarus just started reading your incubator thing. Why'd you drop it?

Reminds me a lot of your hero thing to be totally honest.

>>39670740
>>Give me a gun, let me go fuck up the Flatliners.
>>Give me some guys, let me go fuck up the Flatliners.

>>39670771
You uh.. you missed bud.

>>39670714
>>39670714

>Give me a gun, let me go fuck up the Flatliners.


>>39670760
Maybe there will be a glorious revival

>>39670760
It was always intended to be baby's first QMing experience, I got really tired of it (for that matter, my players seemed to as well) and there was no end in sight, so I gave it a crappy ending and moved on.

I will mess them up, alone.
>>39670792

I will mess them up, with friends and a gun.
>>39670740
>>39670771

I will mess them up, with friends.
>>39670728

Roll 1d20, best of three.

Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>39670895
I got this!

Rolled 7 (1d20)

>>39670895

Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>39670895

>>39670931
Well we didn't need Nox alive anyway.

>>39670952
but he's our precious otouto

File: outtoto.jpg (33 KB, 715x304)

33 KB JPG

>>39670989
Bretodeau?

"I need a gun, and men to go with me to get my brother back," you say, rising from your chair. "Atta," you add, belatedly.

Bheidho gives you a look over, and then finally, reluctantly nods.

* * *

Fortunately, the kids managed to get enough information to know where the Flatliners are holding Noc. In the half-hour it took for everything to get in order, you toyed with the gun that Bheidho gave you. A sports shooting pistol, technically, though of course it's used for other things entirely. A good number of guns in the underworld are this kind of model, especially since they can be biolocked. The one Bheidho gave you is locked to the ring that's now on your middle finger - if that ring isn't touching the gun, it won't fire.

You and the group pause on the street across from the building, taking a moment to take it in. Your fingers shake a little, and you take out a little packet of trosejo, rubbing a dab on your gums to stave off withdrawal but not create any actual high worth talking about. Then you crack your neck, your hand reaching into your jacket. You let your syn connect to that of your dheljos, the connection raw and unrefined, spilling throughout your being, creating an intoxicating all-natural high that makes everything sharper and your body and mind move faster. "Let's go, boys."

Your group of five bursts into the front door, with Traj, a particularly heavyset man, kicking it open with a loud grunt. Your group filters in quickly...

And then it all goes wrong. Traj gets shot. Evro gets shot. In the fighting and confusion. You get separated from the other two, scrambling up a floor and managing to duck into a less occupied room, breathing heavily. You fired off a good half of your ammo, having to switch magazines, and if you're really lucky, you killed two people. More likely, you only winged them. Fuck. Fuck. This is bad.

>Write-in.

>>39671194
Attack again and this time roll better.

>>39671194
Tap into as much syn as you can and make those Flatliners flatline. We're not leaving without our otouto!

>>39671194
Come from above, use flight to enter via the top and work our way down.

>>39671194
Take an exp loan and unlock that spatial awareness.

>>39671194
>get all the sync
>rip these guys to shreds

Attack again, hope for better luck this time.
>>39671246
>>39671331
>>39671227

XP loan [invalid]
>>39671321

I'll fly away.
>>39671261

Roll 1d20 (best of three).

Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>39671412
nat 1

Rolled 8, 3 = 11 (2d10)

>>39671412
I sure love 1

Rolled 15 (1d20)

>>39671412
T-rolling

Rolled 2 (1d20)

>>39671412
Rolling better.

You tap into your dheljos's syn again, letting it enhance and flow through you before sliding out of the room, moving down the corridor like a ballet dancer of death and murder. When you spot two armed members coming around the corner, you down them in two shots, splattering their brains across the wall. You pause, *listening*, trying to discern if Noc is nearby. You don't want to leave without him.

Your ears - enhanced as they are by an overflowing abundance of syn - pick up the distance sound of sobbing, two stories above you. Your heart stops in your chest for a fraction of a second, and you move, sweeping along the floors, firing at anyone who gets in your way. You burst through the door that Noc is in, stumbling on a grotesque scene. Your little brother, blood splattered across his leg, a table with all manner of instruments that are - were, you should perhaps say - being quickly packed up. Their owner turns to you, his eyes wide, trying to position his body to obscure the torture implements he was no doubt using shortly before, and raises his hands in surrender.

Your emotions are running high, with the syn enhancing everything you're feeling.

You fire anyway, ignoring his attempts to surrender.

He slumps back against the table, causing a clatter as he hits it, sending a few of his instruments rolling to the floor. Then you move to Noc's side, gingerly removing the blindfold on his eyes. He blinks, and offers you a weak smile, blood crusting his lips and splattered across his teeth.

>Untie him and run back the way you came.
>Try to get out through the window.
>Sneak out.
>Write-in.

>>39671636
>Try to get out through the window

>>39671636
>>Untie him and run back the way you came.

>>39671636
>Try to get out through the window.

>>39671636
>Untie him and run back the way you came.

>>39671636

>Untie him and run back the way you came

>>39671687
>>39671694
>>39671720
Still enemies there you guys and we're low on ammo.

>>39671636
>Try to get out through the window
Check if he's harmed or not too. That blood doesn't bode well.

Rolled 1 (1d2)

Untie and run.
>>39671687
>>39671694
>>39671720

Window.
>>39671674
>>39671688
>>39671830

Diebreaker.
1 - window
2 - way came

In either case, roll 1d20 (best of three).

Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>39671840

Rolled 17 (1d20)

Here goes nothing

Rolled 1 (1d20)

>>39671840

>>39671913
Mwahaha.

File: vESj1.gif (778 KB, 245x190)

778 KB GIF

>>39671913

>>39671913
>>39671923
Welp Tart guess this is going to be another of your quest that players will make self-terminate.

>>39671923
oh god
what have I done

You untie your little brother's ankles and wrists, and he rubs at the effected areas. "Are you oaky, Noc?" You ask, sweetly, squatting by his side, your eyes imploring, hoping.

He coughs, rubbing at his thigh. The area is painful to look at, a sharp cut that moved through flesh and fabric alike, leaving a long gang. The weaving, criss-cross pattern doesn't seem to have been a deep cut, and he swallows and nods, gingerly rising to his feet. He has difficulty balancing, but you buoy him, and he coughs. "I'll be okay," he rasps out, his voice breathy and sharp. You nod, and move towards the balcony, sliding open the door.

"Hold onto me tight, okay, Noc?" You ask, and his other hand comes around, gripping the front of your jacket, digging into the fabric. You look down, take a deep breath, and jump over the barrier, bringing Noc with you. Your dheljos's power surges, slowing your descent somewhat, but Noc's extra weight makes it harder, and you hit the ground with a horrible crack, pain lacing through your right leg as you crumple down to the ground. Noc winces a little, but he fortunately doesn't seem to be hurt, and you lie on the ground, gasping and panting in pain.

You look down the alley, searching for any Flatliners, and you don't see any.

Instead you see the distinctive uniforms of a pair of Special Police, standing at attention, looking at some unseen speaker. "We are here for the girl," he says, and you get the distinct impression his little speech isn't going to last long.

>Tell Noc to get away, distract them and try to get away yourself.
>Tell Noc to get away, offer yourself to them.
>Offer yourself to them, in exchange for them protecting Noc.
>Attack.
>Write-in.

>>39672086
>Tell Noc to get away, distract them and try to get away yourself.

>>39672086
>>Tell Noc to get away, distract them and try to get away yourself.

>>39672086
>Tell Noc to get away, distract them and try to get away yourself.
Try to get some extra syn from your Dheljos to cure the broken bone, or at the very least ignore the pain long enough to ensure a safe escape for Noc.

>>39672086
>>Offer yourself to them, in exchange for them protecting Noc.

>>39672086
>Tell Noc to get away, distract them and try to get away yourself.

>>39672086

>Tell Noc to get away, distract them and try to get away yourself.

Run, Noc! I'll follow you!
>>39672120
>>39672170
>>39672171
>>39672229
>>39672261

Trade yourself for his protection.
>>39672182

Roll 1d20 (best of three).

>>39672086
>Tell Noc to get away, distract them and try to get away yourself.

Rolled 5 (1d20)

>>39672387
another nat 1 incoming!

Rolled 18 (1d20)

>>39672387
Suffering quest is go.

>>39672387

>Roll 1d20 (best of three)

I think you mean, Best of 3 unless fuck you

Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>39672387
Good we can do well with an 18

Rolled 18 (1d20)

>>39672387

>>39672532
Better with a 19

>>39672581
You might be right.

"Run, Noc," you say, stumbling painfully to one foot, fire lacing through your calf. You focus on the syn there, trying to draw it away, numbing the pain. Noc stands awkwardly by your side, not running yet, and you give him a shove, pushing him away. "Run," you say, eyes serious, steely.

Noc glances at you, then the state police, then nods, turning and running away, leaving you behind. Thank Spija he was willing to do that. You stand there, watching the cops, listening to Noc's footfalls fade into the distance behind you. Before he completely gets away, and you feel safe following after him, one of the Special Police spots you, and points in your direction. "Sir!" He says, loudly. Iscro's head comes around the corner, and his lips curl up in surprise and a certain malicious happiness.

"Good. Found you at last," he says, stepping forward. You limp backwards, numb pain racing up your right leg with each step. Fuck. Fuck. This is bad. "Calm down, girl," he says, voice sounding almost sickeningly sweet. "I have no intention of hurting you."

The High Inquisitor doesn't rate a space on the list of people you'll believe when they tell you nice things like that. You pull at your dheljos power, and raise your bad leg off the ground, gliding without gliding, sliding across the ground like you were the wind itself, occasionally having to jump with your one good leg. Iscro roars his anger, giving chase as you escape, rushing inhumanly fast as he chases you. You head in the opposite direction of Noc, who fortunately seems to have made himself sufficiently scarce that nobody gives chase to him.

Of course, you're saying that "fortunately," you're being chased by the High Inquisitor who is also a very competent murderer if "Astja"'s dheljos is any indicator. So perhaps "fortunate" isn't quite the right word to use. Amelioratingly, perhaps.

>Just run/glide away.
>Offer him something you think he wants. [Write-in]
>Try to hurt him, knock him off balance, something.
>Write-in.

>>39672753
>>Just run/glide away.

My sole reader now apparently.
>>39672829

Roll 1d20 (best of three).

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>39673003
Rolling, should I samefag the rest?

Rolled 18 (1d20)

>>39673003

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>39673003
I had laundry to do

>>39672829
Sorry dude final tomorrow studying.

You push with the wind, your dheljos letting you glide along the ground, and you occasionally make a sweeping motion with your good leg, pushing you along still further and faster. It reminds you of the time when you were little and sat on a troll, pushing you out of the grasp of Iscro.

"For Spija's sake, girl," he hisses out as he chases you, his body obviously flooded with syn by the way he moves. "If I wanted you dead, I'd have killed you by now." You ignore him, keeping yourself moving faster and faster, slowly outracing him. You slide along for a good few blocks after you think you've lost him, before hiding yourself in a narrow alley and taking a break.

The moment you stop, you practically collapse to the ground, your butt bouncing for a moment as you hit the ground. You gingerly feel out the syn in your right leg, trying to figure out the extent of the damage by how it's arranged. You push and pull syn, feeding it in and out, and increasingly come to the conclusion that the damage is pretty bad. You'll have to spend days off it before it'll finish healing, even if you supercharge the healing process

After waiting a minute or two to make sure you *really* lost him, you rise to your feet and limp back home, keeping your head down and a careful eye out.

Noc made it back in one piece on his own, but... the other four didn't. Bheidho gives you a long, cold, withering look that makes you feel ashamed to be alive. He doesn't bother to lecture you, at least not yet, and you head up to your room, to think. After an hour, Noc comes up as well, a bandage around his thigh where the torturer cut at it, and he sits down next to you, his hands in his lap.

"Thanks for saving me, Dhena," he says, his voice quiet, small.

>You'd do the same for me.
>I love you, you're like a brother to me.
>I love you. Romantically.
>Write-in.

>>39673404
>You'd do the same for me.
>I love you, you're like a brother to me.

>>39673404
>You'd do the same for me.
>Now let me take some of that delicious syn of yours

>>39673404
>You'd do the same for me.

>>39673404
>>I love you. Romantically.

>>39673404
>You'd do the same for me.
>I love you, you're like a brother to me.

>>39673404
>>>You'd do the same for me.
>>I love you, you're like a brother to me.
>>I love you. Romantically.
None of these are mutually exclusive.

>>39673404
>I love you. Romantically.

>>39673404
Just cuddle him. He's safe, that's all that matters.

>>39673404
>>I love you. Romantically.
>You'd do the same for me.

>>39673404
>You'd do the same for me.
>I love you, you're like a brother to me.

>>39673481
>>39673504
>>39673542
>>39673572
This isn't a one shot guys. don't you think you're rushing this?

Samefagg really?

>>39673611
Nopw

>>39673404
>I love you. Romantically.

>>39673404
>You'd do the same for me.
>I love you, you're like a brother to me.

Wow, it's incredible that every single person came to vote this time.

Samefagging scum, you know who you are: you are a bad person. You are betraying your fellow players by violating the social compact of the game. Fuck you.

Friendzone:
>>39673436
>>39673453
>>39673471
>>39673552
>>39673489
>>39673608

Lovezone:
>>39673481
>>39673504
>>39673542
>>39673572
>>39673724

You'd do the same for me.
>>39673436
>>39673453
>>39673471
>>39673489
>>39673504
>>39673572
>>39673608

I love you... bro.
>>39673436
>>39673489
>>39673504
>>39673608

>>39673404
>I love you. Romantically.

>>39673806
I'm running a quest myself, and I'd appreciate it if you'd share how to discover samefags. Don't feel obligated to do so if you don't want to though.

>>39673893
I don't know who the samefag is but there's an IP counter now. Twelve distinct IPs (one of which is mine) and thirteen votes including >>39673852.

>>39673893
See there are 4 numbers that 4chan tracks, post count, picture count, Unique ip count, and page number. We exceeded unique ips. You rarely if ever max out uips per story post due to the fact people change ips/devices/zip codes which artificially adds ip.

>>39673913
>>39673954
Alright, thanks.

>>39673954

Also, depending on how long your thread is running, posters will cycle in/out over the thread.

>>39673893
>voter count suddenly triples
>doesn't know why people are saying samefags

You put one arm on his shoulder, trying to reassure him physically even as you do the same verbally. "You'd do the same for me," you say, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder. He sighs, pulling his arm around and wrapping it around you, and the two of you sit like that for a bit before you pull away and up. "I'm really glad you're alright, Noc."

He nods. "It's all thanks to you." There's a pause.

* * *

Over the next few days, Noc is a lot quieter than usual, and it sometimes seems like he's avoiding you. After your leg has healed, Bheidho orders you into his office. Like a proper member of the Gray Brothers, you diligently enter the room. You feel like a child that's in for a scolding from a parent, even if you never experienced that properly on your own.

"Do you want to hurt the Flatliners for what they did to Noc?" It's rhetorical, so you don't get a chance to respond; he moves on immediately. "I have a job I want you to do. The Flatliners have a computer on the top story of one of their buildings. It's connected to some old, pre-war networks, and it helps feed them information. I want you to destroy it."

>Yes, Atta.
>No, Atta.
>Write-in.

>>39674648
>Yes, Atta.

>>39674648
>Write-in

Can we acquire and use it instead?

>>39674648
>Can I also kill everyone in that building and get some explosives?

>>39674648
I don't suppose we could steal the damn thing? If no, then yes.

>>39674648
>yes Atta

>>39674709
the last time he gave us things we broke them
dunno if he'll do it again

>>39674833
So we will kill everyone inside with our hands
duh
That sensing upgrade would be useful now

Yes.
>>39674682
>>39674790
>>39674833

Can we steal it?
>>39674694
>>39674790

Can we blow up the building?
>>39674709

>>39674648
>Write-in.
Will I get to exterminate the scum, Atta?

>>39675006
Strange. How the voter count shrunk so fast.

>>39675025
Wonder if anyone left because people voted against sort-of incest.

"Yes, Atta," you say, with a small bow. "I assume it's not possible to steal it?"

He shakes his head in a clear no. "It's far too large, and it would require all kinds of mechanical expertise to remove it from its current location. You'll have to destroy it."

"Am I to do it immediately, Atta?"

He nods, and slides a small explosive device, around the size of your fist, across the table. "This is a timed device. Open the machine, put it in its guts, and set it to go off." Then he puts a gun down - the same gun that he gave you for your last mission. "Do the job well, Dhena."

You nod, taking the weapon and the explosive and sticking them in your jacket. You tell Noc about where you're going before you head out, and he just glumly nods and lets you, his fingers digging at his good thigh in frustration and anger.

The building that Bheidho gave you directions to is tall, towering a good couple stories over any of the adjacent structures, a spiraling device of some kind just visible from the ground, peeking up over the edge of it. Your hands fumble inside your vest, making sure everything is in place, and you breathe in and out slowly. You need a plan of attack.

>Try to just walk in.
>Climb the outside walls.
>Get to the roof of an adjacent building, burst into one of the windows just by jumping across and using your gliding abilities.
>Write-in.

>>39675207
>Walk in looking like you own the place and go as far as you can
>Then get full of syn and rip everyone apart with our bare hands
Social stealth is really OP
And intimidation is more useful than some think

>>39675207
>Get to the roof of an adjacent building, burst into one of the windows just by jumping across and using your gliding abilities.

>>39675207
>Get to the roof of an adjacent building, burst into one of the windows just by jumping across and using your gliding abilities.

File: AC-Ezio3--article_image[1].jpg (24 KB, 418x282)

24 KB JPG

>>39675207
>Climb the outside walls

>>39675207
>>Get to the roof of an adjacent building, burst into one of the windows just by jumping across and using your gliding abilities.

>>39675207
>Get to the roof of an adjacent building, burst into one of the windows just by jumping across and using your gliding abilities.

>>39675277
and being actually able to do any of that is kinda a prereq

>>39675207
>Get to the roof of an adjacent building, burst into one of the windows just by jumping across and using your gliding abilities.

>>39675336
Maybe we can't rip people apart but I am sure that while boosted we can kill them when hitting head

Roof jumping.
>>39675315
>>39675319
>>39675335
>>39675336
>>39675356

Social engineering.
>>39675277

Climbing.
>>39675332

Roll 1d20, best of three, crits on.

Rolled 18 (1d20)

>>39675469

Don'tdiedontdiedontdie

>>39675479

We've got an 18 over here, everybody stop.

>>39675508
Someone's going to roll a nat 1 and invalidate my roll, I can feel it.

Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>39675469
NO BRAKES!

Rolled 20 (1d20)

>>39675469

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>39675469

Rolled 18 (1d20)

>>39675469
nat 1 incoming

>>39675508
no

>>39675629
Oh yes!

>>39675629
Heh

Entering a neighboring building is a lot easier than entering the building itself would be. While the Flatliners have guards and members practically spilling out of their own building, the apartment complex next door is fairly easy to sneak into. You manage to slip in past one older man, who you give a quick "Thank you, Atta," before dashing up the stairs with the air of a schoolgirl desperate to get to her lover. You hear him chuckling softly as you rush past.

This building ends two stories below the Flatliner building, so you're staring across the very long gap at the story that isn't even the one you want to be on. You step back from the edge, breathing in, focusing your syn and connecting to your dheljos, feeling the live wire of suddenly enhanced life, power, speed, response, sense - everything. Then you rush at the edge, your feet slamming against the concrete of the ceiling for a frantic second or two before you *leap*, crossing the gap in a moment, soaring through the air and crashing right through a window to the top story, shards of glass spilling around you as you come to a stop in an empty room.

Your hypersensitive ears pick up the distant, curious sounds of somebody wondering "what that noise was," though there's no particular alarm to it. The room you're in at the moment looks more like it's used as a sleeping quarters, two mattresses strewn across it haphazardly, the scent of male ejaculate thick to your nose, emanating from the blankets and waste bin.

>Sneak around, find the room with the computer itself.
>Find the first person you can, beat the shit out of them and make them tell you where the computer is.
>Go to the roof, smash up that spiraling thing you saw from the ground, you're pretty sure that was part of the tech.
>Write-in.

>>39675707
>Sneak around, find the room with the computer itself.

>>39675707
>>Sneak around, find the room with the computer itself.

>>39675707
>Sneak around, find the room with the computer itself.

>>39675707
>>Find the first person you can, beat the shit out of them and make them tell you where the computer is.

>>39675707
>Knock out that asshole that heard us
>Sneak around, find the room with the computer itself.
we can do this without being detected

>>39675707
>Find the first person you can, beat the shit out of them and make them tell you where the computer is.

File: 1310429159877[2].jpg (32 KB, 480x360)

32 KB JPG

>>39675707
>the scent of male ejaculate thick to your nose

Sneak.
>>39675724
>>39675739
>>39675743
>>39675768

Interrogate.
>>39675746
>>39675838

Roll 1d20, best of 3, crits on.

Rolled 12 (1d20)

>>39675960

Rolled 14 (1d20)

>>39675960
k

Rolled 9 (1d20)

>>39675960
kinda sad that you have to write crits on these days

Rolled 8 (1d20)

>>39675960

You slouch into the corridor, your head hung low, your whole body pulled tight together, obscuring your profile and hopefully letting you pass as some young member of the Flatliners (or a member's girl). It works surprisingly well, letting you slip past somebody walking through the halls, and you creak open doors one by one as you look for your target, the computer in question.

You do, after what feels like an eternity but was actually a minute, and you can see the towering form of the computer, stretching from the ground to the ceiling, exposed wires and shelves of machinery. It probably has more electronic parts than you've seen in your life up until now. You gingerly move the door open, and then somebody inside grabs it and swings it open.

You're confronted visually with three young Flatliners, all well-armed, and the one that just swung the door open is glaring down at you. "Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing here?"

>Attack, fast, hand-to-hand.
>Pull out your gun.
>Lie, back off.
>Lie, claim to be a computer expert.
>Write-in.

>>39676094
Flash 'em, attempt to "negotiate"

>>39676094
>Attack, fast, hand-to-hand.
>Get full of syn
Break their bones and crush the hearts!
Also we should get knife and training or something

Rolled 15 (1d20)

>>39676094
>Attack, fast, hand-to-hand.

>>39676094
>Lie, claim to be a computer expert.
I'm here to download more ram.
Your processor fluid is running low, and the graphics chip needs to be washed.

>>39676094
"It doesn't matter who I am."

>>39676094
>Attack, fast, hand-to-hand.

>>39676094
>Lie, claim to be a computer expert.
Here with a software package to give them more RAM

>>39676187
*un-sheaths Katana*

Attack.
>>39676147
>>39676160
>>39676217

I'm a female PC, this is what all female PCs do at least once. (Including, and especially, those played by women.)
>>39676136

"I'm, uh, a computer expert. A computer is... a thing. With buttons. And a screen. Trust me. I'm an expert."
>>39676167
>>39676249

No one cared who I was before I put on the dheljos.
>>39676187

Roll 1d20, best of three, crits on.

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>39676339
>unzips vagina

Rolled 19 (1d20)

>>39676339
You are already dead.

Rolled 9 (1d20)

>>39676339
>>39676339

"I'm Lan," you say, one hand toying with the pocket of your jacket. He narrows his eyes, obviously waiting for you to produce some sort of business card, but instead your hand lashes out and hits him right in the throat, hard.

He doubles over, gagging, and you bring your knee up to his face, then sweep into the room, your syn still overflowing from your earlier leap, moving up to the other two men. They barely have time to reach for their guns before you're on them, and you make a quick series of strikes to their legs and necks, leaving them in crumpled piles on the floor. You take out the explosive, glancing at the computer for a moment before stuffing it inside some choice bit and turning to run for it, rushing down the halls.

"Maca?" One of the Flatliners asks, looking at you and using the appropriate term of respect for a younger woman. You ignore him, shoving him aside with your increased strength, rushing for and out the window you came in, letting your dheljos take you into a soar as you cross over to the next building. You roll along the ground for a moment before standing, brushing yourself off. Then you click the detonator, and there's the roar of a loud explosion in your ears as the Flatliner's precious computer is torn to shrapnel. You wipe at your brow with your hand and head back inside, taking the steps two at a time as you descend.

You get home without any further problems.

>Report to Bheidho.
>Go see Noc and cuddle.
>Write-in.

>>39676630
>>Report to Bheidho.

>>39676630
>Report to Bheidho.
Probably still not in his good books yet.
>Go see Noc and cuddle.
Easiest way to sleep I guess

>>39676630
>Report to Bheidho.
gotta stay professional

>>39676630
>>Report to Bheidho.

>>39676630
>Report to Bheidho.

Report to Bheidho.
>>39676680
>>39676701
>>39676704
>>39676732
>>39676755

You head directly to Bheidho's office, collapsing into the chair. There's still extra syn rolling through your body, but it's mostly leveled out. Bheidho looks at you with a considering eye. "It's done, then?" His question is almost cordial in how he pronounces it.

"Yes, Atta," you say, with a small bow in your seat. "I blew it up."

"Good," he says. "You're dismissed for the moment, then. I should have another job for you soon, though, so don't expect another long break."

"Yes, Atta," you say, as you rise, giving him another bow before departing. You head back up to your room and play a few rounds of Chancer with Noc. The stakes are just tokens, not real cash, but it's still a fun diversion, and you manage to come out ahead, bankrupting him after about twenty hands.

"Tch," Noc says, sounding annoyed when you take his last token. "You can't even go easy on your little brother." He shakes his head in feigned distress. "You're a cruel, cruel girl."

"Cecalos, you're such a whiner when you lose," you reply, earning an offended huff from Noc.

There's a brief silence, Noc's expression suggesting some inner turmoil, then he finally speaks. "When I was captured by the Flatliners and they were torturing me... I didn't think you would come. I thought I was dead. You said I would do the same for you, but... I don't think I actually would have. I'm still shocked you came, much less that you succeeded."

>Well, he doesn't have magic superpowers.
>He wouldn't try to save you from torturers? That's it, out, out, little shit.
>Hey, he helped you when Nemot and Bratjo attacked, didn't he?
>Write-in.

>>39677157
>He wouldn't try to save you from torturers? That's it, out, out, little shit.

>>39677157
>Well fuck you then
>Drain him dry of syn

>>39677157
>>Hey, he helped you when Nemot and Bratjo attacked, didn't he?

>>39677157
>Hey, he helped you when Nemot and Bratjo attacked, didn't he?
>You'd just take longer and probably get less men killed by not barging in.

>>39677157
>>39677199 This is me.

I'm also totally down with >>39677224

>>39677157
>Hey, he helped you when Nemot and Bratjo attacked, didn't he?

>>39677224
>>39677280
We can't drain syn you idiots.

>>39677311
I know.

>>39677311
I know
And we never will if we don't try

>>39677157
>Well, he doesn't have magic superpowers.
>Hey, he helped you when Nemot and Bratjo attacked, didn't he?

>>39677157
>Write-in.
Everybody has things they can and cant do. I wasnt sure if I could actually do it when I left to rescue you. I just knew I had to try. I still think you wouldve at least tried. Even if it wouldnt end well for you.

Dick! How dare you not be willing to lead a suicidal assault on a rival gang!
>>39677199
>>39677224

Hey, you helped out before, right?
>>39677225
>>39677239
>>39677304
>>39677348

I'm sure it wouldn't have worked.
>>39677239

You don't have superpowers.
>>39677348

I think you would've at least tried.
>>39677397

>>39677421
He is.

First thing we did was bum rush the fuckers and we'd have done it without them.

He just wants us to be around.. but danger? ehh fuck that.

>>39677447
We will just have to pump him with our syn till he's addicted
Try to ignore us then fucker!

>>39677591

I'm pretty sure if we can't eat syn we can't do the reverse either.

>>39677615
We can always try.

>>39677638

Can we though?

>>39677663
I'll vote for it.

"You're not being fair to yourself," you say, picking up the deck of cards and shuffling it idly as you speak. "When Nemot and Bratjo attacked us in our old apartment, you helped me out when Nemot was strangling me, and I *specifically* told you to hide in the bathroom."

He looks, glumly, down at his hands in his lap, toying with his fingers awkwardly. "Maybe," he offers.

"We've always looked out for one another, haven't we, Noc? I look out for you, you look out for me. Remember when we were really young, and there was that guy, with the..." you rub your index finger and thumb on your chin, and Noc gives a little smile, obviously recalling it as well as you. You let the memory drift through the air for a moment before you continue. "You *have* been there for me. Don't worry about some might have been."

"I..." he trails off. "I guess. Thanks, sis. You're- you're probably right."

"I am *definitely* right. I'm always right," you say, closing your eyes and smiling. "You could call me Cecalos's daughter."

"Then why are you blaspheming him like that?"

You put a hand on your chest, feigning offense, but before you can say anything further, there's the loud crack of gunfire from downstairs.

>END OF SESSION.

Hope you enjoyed, thanks for playing, any criticism would be welcome, what you liked/didn't.

Twitter: twitter.com/72oOCCJ1

You have 1 XP.

Potential upgrades: http://pastebin.com/x5z9gwFi

File: 10934480_815835928453011_(...).jpg (10 KB, 222x319)

10 KB JPG

>>39677591
>>39677638
>>39677691

What the fuck

>>39677723
Thanks for running.

>>39677723
>AEROCEPTION
We really need this shit

>>39677723
>http://pastebin.com/x5z9gwFi
Aeroception or Reincarnation memory so we can figure out iscro's deal.

Next thread when?

>>39677723
>>39677741

Im gonna vote for aeroception

>>39677807
Tuesday, same time.

>>39677723
Aeroception OP

>>39677741
>>39677768
>>39677809
>>39678629
Calling it for Aeroception.