Snowguard

Hmm.. four Australians? I haven't seen this many folks from this side of the world in an online RPG since some crappy ST thing.. it had 5 I think.

This raises an interesting idea or two. First of all is the aforementioned revision work required to make a new Australian Sourcebook.

The next one... Campaign! Set Down Under of course, but I was thinking a mix of foreign and local characters could be interesting. Have them working for a Corp, fighting the Westies, or if you really want to mix things up, joining one of the rebel groups I hear about. Koori Front, ne?

The dull roar of the shuttle launch added to the cacophany of the street as the pair of taxis rolled up. Catching a glimps of the rocket's flares, Mariposa checked both the taxis, and seeing the rush for the rear car, she opted for the front one. If she were lucky, Black Knight might drop her a tidbit or two with regards to business in these parts, and how the Syndicate knew her. Alvarez had been uncharacteristically oblique in his call, but haddn't spoken with a stutter, which was a sure sign he was worried.

Climbing into the cab after the Black Knight, the torn vinyl of the rear seat reminded Mariposa of the back of just about every cab she'd ever been in, though far roomier. Giving the air a tentative sniff, she wondered how long it had been since the air freshener had been replaced, given the strong odour of unbathed cab driver and back seat potpouri.

Feeling the faux-vinyl of the chairback against her, Mariposa sank into it, enjoying the feel of being seated ever so briefly. Closing her eyes, she took several extended blinks, her eyes remaining hooded for up to five seconds each time. Listening as she does so, the sounds of those around her eating let her know that they at least are in need of work. Syndicate policy would often mix a meal with some deal-making, and she remembered many nights with Gianni down on the waterfront, jumping from one tapas bar to the next, planning jobs and making calls as they did so.

This however was not quite what she would call a 'meal', and with Black Knight announcement that they would move shortly, she was pleased to say the least. A little rest was always good, but too much, and you just lost touch with it all. Especially when you were somewhere new. Gianni used to complain about that when they first met. The ride on the metro here had been enough for her to understand his point.

Extracating herself from the seat, Mariposa stood, her back towards the unoccupied section of the bar, in an attempt to cover as much of both the door and the booth with as little movement as possible.

Mariposa's eyes flitted across the rabble. The blue-haired girl with the dead-eyed stare looked a little too out of it for her tastes, and given that the Syndicate didn't mix drugs with business, unless there was a hefty cut involved, she doubted she was Black Knight. Nodding without a sound, she continued her survey.

The next person was an Englander, Weland, but not one she had ever heard before. Taking his hand, she returned his grip with one of effeminate poise but very little flexibility, as if to let him know she was no pushover. His mix of scars, tattooes and lack of dress sense was not a good sign.

If Weyland looked bad, Boon looked horrendous. A bulky Japanese guy with a nasty piece of metal in his head. It was like some freakish cartoon by a stoned dog come to life.

Then there was the chica with brown hair, neat tattoo on her face. Too obvious a place for that kinda sign. Dressed in a flash set of coveralls, there was something about her that was not at ease with the situation.

All in all, it looked as if her contact, who had said very little, and by extention the Syndicate, was scraping the bottom of the barrel in these parts. She wondered how desperate she was to be considering this as an option, but consoled herself with the offer of a decent meal. Seeing their sandwiches, she decided against it, and slipped into the booth, closer to Weyland, Black Knight or the stoner than to Boon, who had his mind firmly on matters she didn't like the thought of, or chica, who just reeked bad vibes.

It was then that the mountain walked in, dressed like night and at least looking like he could waste a punk or two. He went over to the bar, grabbed a beer and approached the group. Turning to Black Knight, she held out her hand at an angle, low to the table, moved it slightly from side to side. She could eat and drink later. At the moment, all she wanted to know was what the deal was.

"..Si...Si.....Gracias."

Maria had been in town a grnad total of twenty-three minutes and already she had friends. Of course, she had yet to meet this 'friend' in person, but the call from home had showed promise. It was unlike Alvarez to make a call himself, and the fact that he did meant something potentially quite profitable was going down.

Hauling her bag off of the NCART at the Japan Town station, she peered around. While it looked a little less scruffier than she was used to, she had been told that people in the 'New World' did things differently. After searching the district for a good half an hour, she finally found a set of lockers that were in what seemed to be a safe location, she put her bag in, checked that her Combat Magnum was still safe, grabbed her tools, her E-Book and blade, and stuffed them into the pocket of her old but well-kept brown leather duster. Checking the other pocket, she felt her credsticks and loose Euro, and dropped a couple of coins to the kid seated not far from the lockers on the unspoken terms that he'd watch out for her stuff.

Making her way to Retribution's Edge, she pondered who her contact, a person she knew only as 'Black Knight' She smirked at the thought of her name in her own tongue. El Caballero Negro It was quite fitting that she, a scout for the White Horse Syndicate, she have a contact so named.

Walking into the bar, she looks around. Standing at about 5'5, her gaze is slow, sweeping, and the corners of her mouth upruned in pleased apppraisal of the establishment. Her leather hiking boots are weaing a pretty fair set of legs, a few shades darker than olive, at that point after shaving when they look their best, and she congratulates herself for using her last disposable razor on the drift over from Atlanta. Her open duster reveals her mid-thigh black leather skirt and a plain black tee. The shirt, while not latex-tght, is fitted enough to show a moderate bust for a woman of her height. Dark ringlets frame her face, and it's obvious that their bounce is due to a mix of care and genetics. Her eyes, the colour of Colombian coffee, finally spy Booth 8. Her lips are full, not loosing any of their appeal as her mouth smiles a little more. Her nose had tocuh of the Mediterranean, without being hooked, elongated or beaten to a pulp.

Striding over to the table as if she was running the club and the group in '8 were valued clients, she pulled up just short of invading anyone's personal space.

"Black Knight?" she posed to the group, taking a rough guess that dark woman with the portacomp was probably her target. "I em Mariposa. The.." she searched for the word, "Syndicate said to met tu." The words flowed out of her without her losing the appearance of being hip, as if she was merely a visiting Euro-star, unphased by the obscure factors at play in this rendevous.

Hmmm.. on the Chinese language perspective...

First up, as of the Mid-60's, the mainland has used a simplified character system in order to make the written language easier to learn and assist in combatting illiteracy. The use this system in Singapore, where Mandarin is one of the official languages, but Hong Kong and Taiwan don't. As for Overseas Chinese... it depends on how long ago they (or their family) left China and where they orginated from.

As for the how much they'd understand each other, I can use an example used by someone previously. Mr Cheung outta Beijing would actually be Mr Zhang outta Beijing. He'd just be Mr Cheung in the South. Of course, this doesn't even take into account other regional variations, such as Hokkien, Swatow, Szechuan, Hakka ad infinitum, ad naseum.

(Yes, I've used the old names for these languages... sue me)

This doesn't even take into account cultural stigmas people carry with them due to where in China their relatives came from. If you really want to develop the character, or you're a hardass GM, you can always use this to screw your players. An example: I did a bit of side work in HK at the Polytechnic helping uni students with their English. The deal was we'd get together and go out and do something. One of the guys in my group of 4 was a friend I'd been camping with a couple of months previously. The others in the group treated him differently. I asked a Chinese-born Canadian colleague what the deal was, and she said his family came from Fujian Provience up the coast about 150 years ago.

Not a nice story, but hey, who said the future was bright? Crappy Corp adverts don't wash here kid.

With regards to the farms, it depends on the city. In Brisbane (Pop. 1.3 Million) there are farms within 20km of the city centre. I think just as important are the areas of wilderness within the cities. Again with Brisbane, there are large forests among the suburbs. I live near Mt. Gravatt, which while not really a mountain (Australia is very flat) does have a large forest around it.

Aboriginals have groupings not entirely dissimilar to Native Americans, and terms like 'Koori' include several groups together within a space. (In the case of Kooris, I think it covers all aboriginal groups south of the Murray River ie. Victoria) The indigenous peoples of South East Queensland use the term, whereas groups in the area around Darwin and Arnhem land are known as 'Tiwi'. They don't all have exactly the same cultural practices (a land as large and diverse as Australia makes this an impossibility) and they don't all use digeridoos and boomerangs.

Any further info wanted, I'd be happy to help.

There's a Kennetsville? It's mispelt, no?

Chalk, you from Kempsey? My room mate used to live there.

Any and all ideas are always appreciated. I live in Brisbane myself, and of late I've been looking around the city, seeing where our 'Combat Zone' would be, (Inala in the south is not much better than a CP2020 CZ at present) where various ethnic groups would form their ghettos, (I live in a lovely place I've dubbed 'Little Mecca') and how the city would respond to the cut-throat world of 2020. (It's drawn a very strict line with the Corps, taking care of the natural environment and largely kept it's public services like health care and education.

Of course, I went to high school in Alice Springs, which if you'll refer to your Pac Rims (not that I have one.... I just find this stuff out on the web) was the site of an Ortillery 'incident'. Couldn't happen to a more deserving town.

Que pasa gatos? Word is you need someone who does more than just throw lead around, no? If you got the euro, then I'm sure we can come to an arrangement.

Mariposa's chippin' in.

Hi there. It's been a while since I've played CP2020, but my interest has recently been rekindled. I would be interested in playing the Fixer if the position still exists.      It'd be cool to get back in on some action.