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malek77

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Posts posted by malek77

  1. I like the electrical discharge idea. Taser style would definitely work, and is probably stealthy enough with the other systems to go unnoticed.

     

    The charging rail is a great idea.

     

    What kind of colour scheme?

     

    Also, you'll need to find a moment in-game to request Phil work on these things. :)

  2. "Since one AM. Lotta Cops when you came in. SI guys too. Musta been a helluva show." He doesn't pry. He isn't on your team. "Have to tell me about it if you're ever getting plastered in Dubai."

     

    He watches out the window a minute. "F35s." A trio cruise into view, from an awkward angle. "No fly zone along the border with Iran. They've been probing the last few weeks. Want sanctions lifted, or something. Reckon it'll cook off?"

     

     

    Iran has been at the brink of a new war with Iraq for decades, and has been arguing over Kurdish aspirations for statehood, claiming the Iraqi government is covering for a build-up in the North. The Crusader's vassal state & their Zionist allies are apparently inciting innocent, god-fearing Kurds to rebellion.

     

    ...

     

    On your slate, there are waiting messages. It's been left where you can reach it left handed. There's a solicitors receipt, stating the next instalment of the settlement has been paid. There's a stupid e-card signed 'Roman Crew' that splices a series of battle-cries and heroic charges together into one long incoherent polytonal "Arrrgh!" that lasts a whole minute & ends with the limbless black knight threatening to bite King Arthur.

    And a video message from home. Mom & Dad, in front of a grainy webcam in the kitchen. It's a sunny day there. A niece struggles to escape Mom, while one of Shiny's sisters peeks in over their shoulders. They ask a lot of innocent questions, about how it's going and what is it like and Dad was even aware of the storm from gMaps.

     

     

    ...

     

     

    Dillon gets bored. "Play something?" he fires up his PS Alpha.

    It has CoD:The Gulf, a banned-in-the-USA Crime thriller/shooter made by Russians called "Final Delivery" and a sci-fi called Fang about monster hunting in dense jungle.

     

     

    //ooc: Anywhere there's an ellipsis, feel free to expand with questions/fill out with conversation.

  3. Now the scenario is just like the video in my OP but instead of insurgents Arasaka has sent one of their A List units with a heavy machine gun and an armored SUV looking for a moment just like this.

     

    You been reading Babilon? :rolleyes:

     

     

     

    kekekeke

     

     

    AFAIK - the psychology of combatants is that they Fight not for ideology or money or even to protect home and family...that's incidental justification. The actual decision to go into harms way is based on trust in the immediate superiors.

     

    If your Team Leader/Captain/Imam is confident, collaborative, and competent, the 'men' will gel.

     

    Getting serious dedicated fighters to your cause in the first place is done by all the ideology/home/family stuff. Hezbollah fronts the cash to rebuild homes after a fight with Israel. Hezbollah has dedicated enough fighters to own the country, without actually taking out the existing 'government'.

     

     

    If Arasaka...

  4. @ StrayCatalyst Shiny :

     

    "Yo." Dillon raises his hand a quarter of the way to a salute. Cables scrape on the bed-frame. "That didn't take long. What bit ya?"

     

    //ooc: he will merrily chat about what caused your injury, but give you a tut-tut face if you look like you're about to specify a name. The hospital is public territory. MohZak could easily send you flowers with a mic in them. :P

     

     

     

    "I am seriously, deeply, strategically bored." he shuffles his stump. Snorts a laugh in memorial. Then points his left index finger at the PS Alpha. "DNI controllers."

     

    He reaches up, backwards, grimaces, tags an LCD with his finger tips and brings it down on a squeaky pistoned swing arm. "You got one too."

  5. @ Master_Drow Dameon :

     

    <Roman to All - Vehicle Tango-1 is now un-crewed.>

     

    You catch a hint of Jarrett chuckling over TacNet.

     

    <...we are getting hot spot flashes near the North Facing windows, but aren't close enough. Bear, are there any working Drones in what's left of X-Ray? Over.>

     

     

    Bundy (Bear) warily steps closer to Dameon.

     

    "Dig one of the flying ball ones out. Silver case. Next to Murray. Quick!"

     

     

    Through the smashed glass, it's easy to recover a case. It is drilled through in two places. Cracking it open, one Drone has been obliterated, the other is in one piece.

     

    A low-res shot of the front (south) of Lima's flat pops on TacNet, with a green pin over the top left window, the one with the bedraggled remains of the shooter hanging from it. <Drone here.> Says a tag.

     

     

    Thumb click the Drone's power button, and toss it in the air. Rubber fan blades sprout and buzz, catching it just as its parabola arcs down to fall, and then Eyrie takes it over.

     

    It barrels forward, into the window, a fisheye view in three spectrums flashing up on TacNet. (Light, IR, Thermal)

     

     

    There is immediate shouting and crying from inside.

     

    IPB Image

     

    TacNet :: Tags :

     

    The Drone flies through the top floor (10), down the stair-case (7), then weaves through the lower floor. This takes about 6 seconds. Conveniently, every single door in the house has been kicked in, making it easy for the Drone to navigate.

     

    All locations are DARK, due to blackout. What you see is illuminated by the Drone's built in lights.

     

    1. Hall. Light cover (cupboards/bookcases)

    2. Porte. Cushions. Blankets. New Sony Wall TV.

    3. Kitchen. Knives. New Appliances. Rice.

    4. Master Bedroom. Cluttered. Cabinets. Mirrors. Perfumes. Jewelry. Makeup. Magazines.

    5. Vacant room. Carpet indents from removed furniture.

    6. Lobby. Tiled.

    7. Stairwell - carpeted boards. At the top, a landing with Cabinets, pot-plants. Small NORTH facing window.

    8. Bathroom. White. Tiled. Small NORTH facing window. Well appointed, looks new.

    9. Upper Hall. Designate Lima 1 (wife), 2 & 3 (daughters) are at the SOUTH end of the Hall - CHECK FIRE!.

    10. Upper Study. Computer desk. Lounge. Cabinets.

    11. Girl's bedroom. Pink & blue. Soft Toys. Cupboards. Mirror stand. Wall hangings.

    12. Storage room. Cluttered. Stacked high.

    13. Laundry. Cluttered. White goods. New. Baskets. Clothes.

     

    Designate :

    Foot Mobile Tangos 1 through 6.

     

    T1 is Dead - they guy hanging from the window. Armour vest. Ammo. Knife.

    T2 is covering L1..3 with AK. Armour Vest. Knife. 4x Ammo.

    T3 near small north window, weapon ready. Vest. Knife. Ammo.

    T4 near small north bathroom window, weapon ready. Vest. Knife. Ammo.

    T5 covering NORTH Exit on GROUND FLOOR. Vest, Knife, Ammo.

    T6 covering NORTH Exit on GROUND FLOOR, from hallway. Vest, Knife, Ammo.

     

    T6 shouts at the drone. Tries to shoot it.

     

     

    <Joker, Eyrie - I'm linking you to thermals from the Drone - designated Lima 2, 3 and 4 as those huddled against the wall - all other heat signatures are designated Tango. Load AP rounds and punch through. Bring the noise, make the mess.>

     

    <Roger that.> Joker responds. You hear a magazine changing. <Bass drops in 3, 2...> the bolt on the Barret clanks back. <1.>

     

     

    Ke-Schrank.

     

    Ke-Schrank.

     

     

    You hear the patter of shattered brick raining onto sidewalk.

    <Mehehehe...>

     

     

     

     

    Lima's house erupts with the shouts of with terrified women, terrified men, terrified girls.

    Wailing. A burst of wild fire from T5, spraying West up street (7).

     

    Bundy puts a burst through the house (down Corridor (1)).

    "Movement in corridor, unconfirmed hit. We gonna do this?" he asks of Dameon, of TacNet.

     

    <Roman to Bear - your call. If you can secure ground floor, make it happen. Ambulances are oscar mike. Over.>

     

     

    //ooc : Okay Master_Drow! What's the sensible way to clear the ground floor, with Bear assisting?

    Talk us through! You can also choose to 'control' from outside, just with fire through the building if you wish.

     

     

    Phil flies the drone out the south-door, gains altitude, and readies to make another pass through the window...

  6. I think Tasers and knuckle-dusters would be the sane things to attach, for combat utility.

     

    But to go further, I keep thinking ball-joints would be great for backwards kung-fu, so you can't be put in an arm-lock...

  7. wait, is that cyberpsychosis already peeking in?

     

    Would I send you crazy? :rolleyes:

     

    I also want a Picatinny rail - the weapon mounting platform that's pro-ADHD.

     

    Pro Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder? O_o ???

     

    I'm assuming there's another meaning for that acronym I've not heard before.

     

     

    Then again, hyperactive militarised cyborgs would be entertaining...

  8. I reckon it'd be a great way and place to mount a laser designator, video sighting scope, or flash-light.

     

    If you want it to be a weapon hard point though, we'll have to consider how well the prosthetic is attached and what kind of recoil it could handle. That also means a specially modified weapon that goes on a rail, rather than the other way round!

     

    It would look AWESOME.

     

     

    What else might you want to attach to it?

  9. @ Shiny, Chuck, and Murray :

     

     

    A picture window, facing north, shows nothing but blue sky and the distant tip of a minaret.

    Tiny speck of passing air-craft glitter occasionally, banking toward BIA.

     

    Walls, tile white, anti-septic clean.

    The floor is vinyl tile, grey.

     

    Bed frames - tube aluminium powder coated white. Hoses and wires coil and loop over the bed-frame sides, snaking over the machine-weave blankets, slithering up into canulars and sensor induction patches.

     

    They plug into tall modular devices on the left side of Your bed, pumping measured doses of saline and drugs into you. A blocky white device with a heavy cables is under your hand. It has a big blue button...a painkiller

    dose request.

     

    You can hear over the hospital PA, outside the room, down a corridor, a voice. A Muezzin. Afternoon prayers, piped through the facility. He prays in three languages - Arabic, Phillipino, English, for healing and peace.

     

    He finishes, letting the gentle clatter of foot-steps, and the squeaking of gurneys resume.

     

    As you look around, you notice on your bedside table, an incongruously flash looking black obelisk, standing upright and glossy like obsidian. There's six beds in the room. Only four beds have them.

     

    It's a Playstation Alpha. A recent console. Kind of thing Uni students strip down for parts and reprogram as experimental AIs, or your nieces back home would squabble over.

     

     

    Notably, one of the other beds is in disarray - someone else must be sharing the room with you. And you can tell which bed is Chuck, or Shiny, or Murray. There's a fourth guy. He looks familiar. Groggy with the injections, he's hard to place.

     

    Dark hair. Toned shoulder muscles...on his remaining arm. Hair gelled up like a sport-star.

     

    It's Dillon, from the Convoy yesterday morning. He was in Dragline when it got hit with the DBIED. His right arm is a stump of bandage, what the Africans would call a 'short sleeve' - taken off at the length of a shirt cuff. Heavily bound up, a steely pin sticking out from it.

     

    So he lost the arm after all...

     

    The last time you saw him he still had it. It was the wrong kind of colour in the wrong shape though.

     

    He looks bored.

     

     

    He has an Alpha too...

  10. @ Master_Drow Dameon :

     

    Ok I need to stabilize Shiny fast. So I'll do that first.

     

    //ooc: This will take a First Aid roll of 15+ to stop. Dameon Rolls 20, stabilising the wound and staunching the blood loss.

     

    Dameon puts the L-Five between himself and the building full of hostiles and random innocents.

     

    Shiny is in a bad way. Pulling the driver's door open causes him to collapse, almost pouring out of the vehicle. His suit is black with blood, his right arm a stump with a river glugging out of it.

     

    Apply Pressure, says the training.

     

    Dameon applies pressure. First with a rapidly saturated hand, then with strip ties and bunched up suit cloth, then bandages from the MedKit.

     

     

    He has a moment to look around the vehicle. It is a legitimate bloodbath. The metal is torn and twisted, upholstery hangs loose, shattered glass chips are coagulating into sparkling conglomerate masses glittering in the fire-light of the burning technical.

     

    Murray shuffles.

     

     

    "Hey!" a voice says behind you, huffing from sprinting. It's Bundy (Callsign : Bear). "I'll cover you." He barely glances at you, his eyes scanning the building frontage, FAMAS locking on to windows, finger on both triggers. If a hostile shows, there'll be 40mm and 5.56mm answering.

     

    <Cartman, GO!> Bear sends.

     

    Moments later, Mahmud sprints up to the L-Five, almost skidding in next to Dameon in his haste.

     

    He safes and slings his rifle, crouching in toward Shiny. "He is very bad." He takes over keeping pressure on Shiny's stump.

     

     

    Dameon has time then to crawl in, over Lima, trapped in the gloom of the footwell, over-Chuck, who is awkwardly and raggedly breathing, a huge gash in his leg still dripping, over the mangled and torn back-seat to Murray.

     

     

    The bad news about Murray's leg is that it is pulped beyond belief. The good news is, it tore up so rough that the arteries contracted closed, and he isn't fire-hosing out to an abrupt death. The big medical kit is here in the back. Dameon has to scrape it off to see the reflective Red Crescent sticker. Pressure and touniquet on the jellied remains of Murray's thigh.

     

    Murray lays out backwards on the heaped sports bags, jaw slack, tears dripping and grimed up like a Diesel mechanic. The backtray is a swamp of his blood and chunks of armour, ripped sport-bags and sticky brass from the Dillon. Just enough room for Dameon to work. Brass digs at his knees.

     

     

    //ooc : This will need a First Aid 12+ to stabilise. The leg is 'gone' though. Dameon rolls 20 again to successfully stabilise the wound.

     

    With one good left hand, Murray clings to the stock of his 240. His right, if you ask, is numb and tingling. Morphine puts him out quickly, unconsciousness a sweet release.

     

     

    Mahmud extracts a few shots from a small kit in the front, delivers a few doses to Shiny.

    TacNet fills with chatter. Movement from Tango-1. X-Ray moves from (10) to a position to cover the intersection of (1) & (7).

     

     

    Boom.

    A shot rings out, is followed by some automatic chatter.

    Somewhere else. Out of sight. Out of mind.

    Silence returns.

     

    Dameon concentrates on Chuck...

     

     

    //ooc : Chuck has taken a wicked 4 pointer to the right leg. Dameon rolls 18 to stabilise, 4 times the required roll!

     

    ...Chuck's leg is a case of a flesh wound, but a vicious one. The spray from the hit looks more in keeping with a grenade. A tributary of Chuck's femoral artery pulses within the wound. Dameon cleans and binds it, putting the essential pipework back in hiding where it belongs.

     

    Chuck is out like a light, his neck awkward from his collapse. Dameon shuffles Chuck into the recovery position on the back-seat. Spikes him with some local painkillers.

     

     

    "Roman, this is Bear. Do you have visual on any Tangos, over." Bundy says outside. Mahmud looks up at his squad mate, inquiringly, still leaning onto the bandage on Shiny's carcass.

     

    "Negative Roman." Bundy replies to something unheard. "$#!+! Guys! Ready Up, Red Team is trapped, and is probably bunkering up! Cavalry is on its way." Bundy squares up his rifle to point directly at the dark doorway.

     

    Distant sirens wail. Blue dots appear on TacNet. INP. Ambulances.

     

     

    <Mother-Goose requests sound-off, sitrep. Over.> Roman sends.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    @ StrayCatalyst "Shiny" Nelson :

    //ooc: You survived your Near-Death-Experience test (under Luck) with a roll of 1, an unqualified success. Shiny Lives!

     

    He is also pretty high just now from all the morphine.

     

     

    @ Eraser "Chuck" O'Connor :

     

    Chuck is stabilised, and his leg will heal. It's gonna hurt though for a few weeks.

     

     

     

    @ All :

     

    //ooc : The unconscious will be moved to 4. General Hospital, where the game can continue 'tomorrow' while last night still gets resolved. In parallel. This section still needs finishing off, but that's largely up to Master_Drow/Dameon, and, we may be graced with the original Player behind Bundy! Who right now is armed to the gills, covering Dameon, ready to go Ninja on the Hostage situation brewing up inside...maps soon!

  11. So, questions about cybernetics. I haven't been in any of your previous games, so bear with me.

     

    No worries. :)

    Questions are good!

     

     

    1. Are these cyberpunk-canon strength and speed - ie, punch through bricks, strong enough to tear themselves from the frail human body if abused? Or are they more along the lines of slightly improved current cutting edge prosthetics - twitchy and useless for fine manipulation, but adequate for combat, climbing ladders, and normal day-to-day living?

     

    Because of DNI, they are very precise. Contemporary commercial models replace lost functionality very well, have good sense feed back and good range of motion. Trans-dermal sockets are all the rage, meaning the limbs connect to bones, rather than strapping on.

     

    They are human equivalent - for Commercial Standard, you stats won't change, it's just some of your bits have a battery-life and can turn pain off.

     

    If you start modding them though...

     

     

    2. If battery life is limited to 12 hours of regular use even with the high end medical device batteries, can a person carry spare batteries, or plug into an L-Five while driving in order to recharge?

     

    Both.

     

    Also - 12 hours *labour*. Imagine you were digging trenches and filling sandbags. Medi-grade gives you 12 hours.

     

    In short, I'm scoping 'combat expectations' - civvie life probably doesn't notably have limits.

     

    3. How well environmentally sealed are cybernetics? Will dust storms and/or swimming harm them? Can they be used in hazardous environments (ie, flammable gases) without risk of sparks?

     

    Well sealed, non sparking, swim-safe, can handle grit (but doesn't like it).

    Myomar is a rubbery weave that contracts when electrified, it produces no sparks. There are no brush motors inside, and heat buildup is a minimal issue.

     

    (On a hot day in the desert, your arm may feel sloppy. A cold day it might work stiffly. Much like the real thing...)

     

    4. Cyberweapons!

    Can I discharge those expensive batteries via fingertips for electrical damage to targets (living or electronic)?

    How much damage does a cyberhand do for punching or crushing, and do martial arts bunuses apply?

    If other cyberweapons are available, which ones are they, and what sort of social reactions should I expect if I whip out my new cyber(insert weapon name here) in front of witnesses?

     

    Cyberweapons? Why would an amputee want weapons?

    The poor innocent who has lost their limb wouldn't be thinking such things...

     

     

    ...what do you want? Ask Phil. ;)

    If you want weapons, they'll be bespoke designs from Phil's underground lab, made to order and highly experimental.

     

     

    The reactions if you pop something in front of witnesses? Hysterical fear. Like opening your trenchcoat to reveal a vest of C4. It's frontier stuff, and only the CIA & the Kremlin is really thinking about it as a security risk at the moment.

     

    Cyber Limbs can ignore pain and are harder to break than flesh. They're also heavy. I'll say an extra D6 in MA of damage at this point.

     

     

     

     

    5. Social reactions - do cybernetics get the same kind of queasy acceptance that prosthetics do today, or are they largely ignored? Do people chrome them, and/or is that simply a low class kind of thug bling? Is Realskinn™ available and/or popular? If I get on a commercial (non-OMA) airplane, will cyberlimbs get me different treatment?

     

    Queasy acceptance.

     

    The 'Terminator' look is popular now for real, it continues to be so in future. Chrome, case-mod style neon 'lacing' in the myomar, cooling fans to stop stumps sweating, big company logos. The culture around it is new, overt and industrial - the people with Cyber are 'owning' the reality of the change by aggressive display. They don't hide. They flaunt. It's part of their story, but it's still creepy.

     

    Realskinn™ exists, but it looks waxy. The subsurface scattering is still hideously unnatural.

     

    Airlines haven't twigged to the full threat yet, but they're already looking so hard for weapons they WILL give the limb a good study, expecting it to be a bomb.

     

     

     

    Psychologists are having a field day studying the impacts. Cyberpsychology is The Field to be in. You'll get on TV to talk about it, long term impacts are just coming into view, it's got a 'warm & fuzzy' helping injured people aspect to it.

     

    What they're saying is that humans can adapt to cyber, and carry on, and this is a great example of Technology Doing Good, helping our war wounded and keeping the Willing able to Work.

     

    What they're discovering is that memory is distributed throughout the entire body's nervous system, and limb loss can alter personality.

     

    What they fear is artists like Stelarc, mucking around with wiring in third hands and doing weird stuff. This is considered medically unethical, and is illegal in the USA and EU, as it is classed as a form of Body Dysmorphia and wanting it is psycho-pathologised as a condition, for which they will give you pills.

     

     

     

    Curiously, you are not working in the USA. B)

  12. So Malek, you have mentioned before that cyberware took a lot of batteries to run. I'm guessing an 8 hour charge under standard work load? And probably not as responsive as a normal human limb so a reduced REF? But probably more resistant to damage than normal human limbs?

     

    No Ref penalties! Limbs are using myomar and can be faster than their bio originals - its a matter of how fast your nervous system delivers instructions.

     

    They use D cells - the cells you get at a servo will give you 6 hours labour, the proper Medical grade ones give you 12 hours labour. You can sit still or power down to conserve.

     

     

     

    Do I detect GM intervention? Praise the lord!

    (Or are you running this game at the same time elsewhere? If so I would love to compare how we are doing!)

     

    I first ran Babilon a few years ago, live game. Visereal was there for a few ops, as Phill. Jarrett, Bundy & Bowen were their characters. Mahmud was a farmer who saved their butts during a particularly ferocious opening battle - a desalination plant near Alexandria, Egypt, was hit by a forty man kill squad in technicals. Local security didn't have much manpower, but they did have an APC...but to get to it took some effort due to leg injuries.

     

    Jarrett, the sniper, had his first near death experience here when a fire-storm of AK fire found his position.

     

    He rolled under Luck, took the -1, and lived.

     

     

    His second near death experience involved trying to set up an over watch position in a hotel that already had one of MohZak's teams in it. After a catastrophically failed attempt at politely walking past the Lookout to his booked room, there was a fight. First the Red team tried to clear the corridor, and tore out the structural brickwork at the end of the corridor with massed AR fire. They then pushed. Jarrett was shot in the jaw at point blank with a Llama Commanche.

     

    Then Bowen, Bundy & Mahmud tried to save their team-mate by suppressing that floor of the hotel.

     

    This destroyed the facade. 3 x FAMAS with GLs is great for redecorating.

     

    Jarrett survived his next luck roll, and the Doctors put him back together.

     

    That's how he got his jaw, & his dodgy cyber-ear.

     

    And that's how I almost cut a Hotel in half with my full auto rules tricks. :)

     

     

    I hope you'll work in Buddy teams, because we've just taken the first step on the Escalation J curve.

     

    :rolleyes:

  13. Okay.

     

    Y'all can see just how spectacular that was. There's gibs everywhere.

     

    If you have tactical questions, let's have 'em...we'll clean this op up in a post or two.

     

     

     

    Do not despair of the Game! I've been brainstorming on this for a week since the Holy Oracular Dice of Malek spoke their dark designs.

    I've got a new plan, which will serve to communicate the world and its technological advances very clearly.

     

    Yes, this means Cyber. Limited, but First Gen "Human Equivalent" bionic prosthetics are in your near futures.

    So yes, there will be hospital, but not too much of it. I'm going to fast-forward the "Nurses sponge bath you and change your stump" bit.

     

     

    What I am going to hammer in the short-term is how to make basic squad tactics work in game.

     

    I want to see a Buddy system of bounding over-watch, where one player is posting for the benefit of the next. We'll figure out exactly how soon, but I'm figuring on using in-game VR Games.

     

     

     

     

    In the meantime, don't feel to bad.

    None of you died.

    Which is a better outcome than the live game... :ph34r::D

  14. 5. X-Ray Team are inbound to clean-house, secure wounded, and cover the front of Lima's house.

     

    6. Lima's front door is right before Dameon, kicked open, a hollow dark tunnel leading inside. Dameon's glasses are back up, Thermo is an option.

  15. //ooc : Timer starts now... 00:00:00

     

    "Lie down on the floor, you'll be safest that way. We will be back with your family."

     

    Lima whimpers. And hides, shrinking down into his seat.

     

    @ All :

    I'm bringing the L-Five up close to that door, aiming to get there at as much speed as I can accomplish without missing it. I plan to brake sharply at the traffic circle (2) and back up (4) to the door. If there's a way to get one or more hostiles under my wheels along the way, all the better - but I'm not steering far out of my way, I need to get us to that door ASAP.

     

    The L-Five comes about, the rear wheels rotating to soak up the skid and put the blunt-end on target.

     

    Murray articulately describes his feelings. "HOLY MOTHERFU..." BRTRTRTRTRT, filling the L-Five with the ear-breaking jackhammer-vs-steel-spike rattle of the M240B.

     

    Chuck shouts something drowned out by the fire, triggers the Dillon. It adds to the track a screeching VREEEET and the staccato sparkling of brass shells fountaining across the roof and pouring down the hatch as the L-Five rears up and hurls itself backwards, blunt end broadsiding Tango-2.

     

    Lima writhes down into the footwell as stinging hot brass pelts him.

     

     

    Shiny can only see where he's going by rear-cam - inside the vehicle is a tornado of smoke and brass looking for an eye to lodge in.

     

     

    Tango's 2 through 4 join the party, three times the Russian thunder as their PKMs swivel about and answer back.

     

    Tango-2 looks like a 90 inch angle grinder is chewing through it, the bonnet gnawed off, tires blown, engine block sizzling orange.

     

    But still the PKM fire. The L-Five shudders, rounds punching and punishing the armour. The Rear glass spider-webs crazily - Murray sustains the fire, leaning into the weapon as if a shoulder barge will add to the impact.

     

    Tango-2 collapses into a grated hummock of tin, silenced.

     

    Rear-Left Tire goes, the L-Five plants its bumper into the rough tarmac and slams to a halt. The tires dig a moment, but then the armour starts failing.

     

     

     

    Dameon cops a jet of thick blood on his neck, ripped out of Chuck's leg. Chuck bellows, and fire-hoses 5.56 on the still shooting Tango-3.

     

     

     

     

     

     

    @ StrayCatalyst "Shiny" Nelson :

     

    Vehicle immobile, Shiny readies his grenades & drones. His driver side window conveniently explodes in a shower of chips. The shot lodges in the dash. The dash goes dark.

    It's loud out there. The air is heavy with storm rumbling, the guns are glowing, the L-Five hull ponks with every hit.

     

    Thermite. He jams a thumb in the ring, yanks it loose, flips the spoon and hurls the can out the window. It topples through the murky air, ricochets on a curb and rolls toward Tango-4.

    He swings the M4 up to his shoulder. Tangos are barely 25m away. Easy range. Easy.

     

    He tries to trigger.

     

    He tries to trigger.

     

     

    The M4 swings loose in his left hand and Shiny's vision gets the grainy black-and-whites in a halo at the edges.

    The B-pillar leaps at him like a door thrown open in his face.

     

    Smack. The seat-belt drags at his cheek as he slumps.

     

    His right arm, its...in his lap. Wrong. It topples down into the footwell, in the dark.

    It's quieter now. Much quieter.

     

    //ooc: Shiny took 23 points to the Right Arm. Damage over 8 does not overflow, but his arm is definitely gone. Shiny is KO and Critical.

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    @ Master_Drow Dameon :

     

    Here is my action plan.

     

    1) Flashbang everything.

     

    Dameon surges out of the vehicle in the dubious cover of the L-Five as it bucks in its resting place.

     

    Flash-bang goes out toward Tango-3, arcs over it and lands a short way behind it.

     

     

    Shiny's can of Thermite cooks off, backlighting the L-Five and silhouetting Tango-4. (16's) Facade lights up with leaping shadow-mouths jumping as the can spews its blistering torrent across the concrete and pelts Tango-4 with wicked hots splashes of metal.

     

     

    Flash/Crump! Tango-3 jumps from the impact - but it's not enough. The fire is still coming and coming.

     

     

     

    2) Hope the anti-dazzle on my goggles works as good as they say.

    3) Shotgun those who have guns.

     

    The glasses white-out, then reboot, going clear. Ears ring. Guns chatter.

     

    Dameon pumps the SPAS12, an awkward left-handed shot around the corner of the L-Five, throwing more lead atop the 7.62 and 5.56 going into the moth-eaten technical that is Tango-3.

     

     

    Murray runs dry. Swears. The thunder is all Russian now.

     

    Shot number two from the SPAS12 is coming up. The pump slides forward. The first shell has barely made its first bounce on the tarmac when a wicked FMJ claw rips a chunk out of Dameon's bicep and spits blood all over the front door of Lima's block.

     

     

    //Ooc : Dameon is lucky with only a 3pt wound to Left Arm. He is still Conscious and combat-able. For the moment.

     

     

    A second in the bullet shade of the L-Five, and Dameon sees the entire front-windshield, crumbled from impacts, is red-black and dripping. The place stinks of blood and cordite and worse stuff.

     

    A terrific crack as the rear panel armour splinters and Murray vomits out a gut deep scream, and the near-side rear glass splatters red like the glass-jug on a blender.

     

     

    The Dillon's fire lashes up into the sky and stops. Chuck collapses out of his post and face-plants against the rear-passenger window, out cold.

     

     

     

     

     

    Silence.

     

    Silence bites like an ice-pick. It's a silence full of bad things.

     

    The bad things come.

     

     

    A single Sledge-hammer on iron hard crack cuts the air. Ke-Schrank.

    Dameon hears, but does not see, something like a 10kg Ham being punched against sheet tin.

     

    //ooc: Int(8)+Awareness(6)+(5) = 14...with a spotting mod of -6 for the sniper. Dameon has no idea where the shooter is located.

     

     

    Looks around. No sense of where the fire is coming from, except to say from the West.

     

     

    The Hammer drops again. Ke-Schrank.

     

    This time Dameon catches sight of the gunner on the back of Tango-3, an already wounded rag of a man throw up his arms in surprise at his lack of a head, replaced in a twinkling with with a misty halo of sticky raindrops.

     

     

    The last PKM burps out a burst North, receives a buzzsaw burst of FAMAS fire in return, followed by the soft phunt of an M203.

     

     

    Tango-4 comes apart in a rattling, metallic rain. Catches afire.

     

     

    "HEADS!" an English accent shouts.

     

     

    //ooc: Int(8)+Awareness(6)+(7) = 21.

     

     

    Dameon spins in time to see a Tango inside Lima's house stick his head and AK out a small window to point fire straight down on Dameon's head.

     

     

    Ke-Schrank.

     

     

    It would take a coroner a week to annotate what happens to the Tango's shoulders. Something beginning with an entry wound near the right clavicle and descending into a wide ranging description of the health effects of hydro-static shock. Something ending with a raggedly loose head and a rifle flailing to the ground to crack and bend against the concrete.

     

    It gets on Dameon's glasses.

     

    There's a grotesque cough from within the back-tray of the L-Five.

     

     

     

    <Victor Team! Friendlies inbound! Check fire check fire!> Mahmud (Cartman) pushes over TacNet.

     

     

     

    //ooc : Timer stop... 00:00:09

     

     

     

     

     

    TacNet :

     

    1. Shiny is KO, has no right arm, is bleeding out. He has roughly 8 seconds of blood left in him.

    This will take a First Aid roll of 15+ to stop.

    He may fade in and out of consciousness and be able shout/send through TacNet. That still works.

    He is combat ineffective.

     

     

    2. Chuck has taken a wicked 4 pointer to the right leg, helpfully reduced by the L-Five's crumbling armour.

    Chuck can regain consciousness from his awkward crashed out position atop Lima in the back if he wishes to post. He can shake it off and keep going, but he's light headed and has dramatically reduced movement.

    If no post, I'm assuming he's KO, but only Serious, not Critical.

     

     

    3. Murray has lost his right leg from the thigh down. (9 points)

    The Russian shot entered his shin and exited his thigh and blended everything en-route.

    This will need a First Aid 12+ to stabilise. The leg is 'gone' though.

    He is KO, combat ineffective.

     

     

    4. Tango's 2, 3 & 4 are Dead, Dead, Dead.

  16. Letting you know where things are at :

     

     

    The Dice Have Spoken.

     

    I just have to novelize it, and it's a waaaay bigger job than it looks just now, as it requires a huge stack of new material to be created.

     

    It's coming. And there's going to be lots more maps.

    Lots. :D

  17. Random inspirations I've not used yet :

     

    The streets are always clean, the Scav bot herders eat it all up. Bins are the piggy bank now.

     

    Dreaming of a balcony overlooking the huge scree-plane favela at night, it grows in layers of a day when I'm not there. I leave buckets of silica-glittering sand for the facade to feed on. It catches my dreaming with spider-fine antennae.

     

    She looks gorgeous tonight in the fuchsia pink cera-plating. We tool around the Flats in the racer frame, then decide to cruise bayside. The squishies pour out after us, flashing and stinging. We laugh and run to the rocky plain where the squishie's wheels pop and they think to go on foot. I add a few flashers bars to a vambrace for her. She had a surprise too. A ploughing claw, like the one I lost.

     

    They put Fences around each Zone, made up zones that still somehow made us fragment into arguing tribes. I tried to keep current with old friends in Z27, but they got weird and militant. Then their gates got 'sealed.' I wonder how they've diverged now.

     

    He was a sad thing. It had cost billions to make a single man cancer proof, all that that time and effort. He put a brave face on, but you could see his jangled nerves. He didn't enjoy being an exhibit of a class A Baseline. I think he wanted the full conversion but his creators, his Corporate parent, wouldn't let him. "It's just a trick to keep them Wet. Who's gonna keep doing all the red tape and making the Big Men rich if we're all isolate-subsistence capable? Ignore it. It'll pass." that was Jahl's opinion.

     

     

    "The invaders have no authority here. If they do not subject themselves to Our Founding principles, there can never be peace."

    "But - isn't it your own customs that prolong, cause the violence?"

    "it is not violence, it is justice. Justice teaches. Violence oppresses."

    "So you keep these, to teach?"

    "Either the invaders will learn, or they will all be killed. It is not my Will that they should, but..."

  18. Activate soap-box mode...

     

    <soap>

     

    Yeah - it's that kind of thing i'm really interested in. I kind of feel that the gutterpunk, crime heist style ignores a lot of that side of the setting and with it an awful lot of very good campaign ideas and also changes in the setting with allow for more of a "sense of wonder" or escapism.

     

    I don't have anything against the gutter style at all, I just feel I know it very well at this point.

     

    Gutterpunk is Anti-Technological.

     

    It is the rejection of the 'dehumanising' influence of technology and the new society it creates. The Cyberpunk rules inherently push this point with Humanity Cost.

     

    It states that dehumanising technological advancement is inherently a corrupting, evil process.

     

    I reject the Old Order's terms! I denigrate and replace 'dehumanizing' with "Mechanizing!"

    I decry and reject it as 'corruption', it is "Optimization!"

     

     

    Cyberpunk games should end in Technological Apotheosis for the Forward thinking, Right thinking, Survival minded cyborgs! Of The Future!

     

     

     

    ...because...in 500,000 years time, how many recognizable humans will there be? Where will they live?

     

    If you answer with "lots" and "Earth", you're missing the true potential of the future!

     

     

     

    If he was a science fiction character he'd react to this situation by filling his body with speedware and cybereyes and become dehumanised that way. Instead, he's dehumanised by the fact that his job situation will fuck him over if he engages in any basic human activity like maintaining friends, family or a permanent home. He lives in a sterile apartment with no furniture.

     

    His comrades who do try to maintain those things die or else lose everything.

     

    Sci-Fi has for decades repeatedly asked at what point does a Machine become Human. What is the essential component? Recognisable emotions? Reproductive ability?

     

     

    The above clarifies an alternate.

     

    How Machine-like can a Human be? Because realistically, that's the real question. That's what makes you employable. That's what will allow a culture to survive. The more machine-like it can be, the more open to direction, control, the more likely to be powerful and effective.

     

     

     

    So. Coming back to the game.

     

    That's why I don't run or truly comprehend Gutterpunk. It seems like a simulation of contemporary worst case scenarios, with a bit of Sci Fi spice to keep it from being too heavy on the stomach.

     

     

    I want the glorious immensity of Transhuman Cyborg Apotheosis. And my games are largely thought experiments about how to make it happen.

     

    This would also explain why they fall over...hmm...

     

    </soap>

     

     

  19. Sure you can tell a tight story and keep the gear real, but with the infinite effects budget of GMing - why not go Big?

     

    This may actually be about Story preference, rather than Gear choice.

    A careful study of how Humans will React to feasible future stress is great for empathising with the characters, the reality of it.

     

    I care less about the human element, than the environment created by new technology. If that Über-rail + LADAR makes the USAF obsolete because there's nowhere to hide in the sky, that dramatically alters the 'symmetry' of warfare, and the potentials inherent in that is what shapes diplomacy, trade and public fears...

     

    @ Comp : is this Situationism vs its opposite, that human nature is fixed, & conforms its environment to itself - as epitomised by 'the Gutter' as an environment where everything rejected by the system ends up, & reasserts itself?

     

    Also, re point 1 about the Nomads :

     

    I haven't explicitly run one, but recent RL experiences tell me that Nomad elders would daily confront enormous leadership challenges. Change would constantly press upon them. Change is hard to manage, and even good well reasoned change is lucky to get 50% support...

     

    What I'm thinking is based on A bell curve of responses :

     

    For any given Change (& many decisions) - such as "Go south for the winter, or West for work" - there will always be a small group of profoundly disaffected people, a medium sized group of the inconvenienced, a large group who don't care & a tiny group who expect to benefit. The grumblers have an easy time allying to the inconvenienced, while the immediately benefitted look like Pariahs. Even if they're right.

     

    Leading such a group would be an endless battle of negotiation, compromise & resource allocation.

     

    As for their statistics - I'd use the "Grunt 64" notation for the undifferentiated masses, where they have Stats of 6 & any needed skill of 4. Detail the NPCs on an as-needed basis...

     

    Or you could take a simulationist approach, and track clan genealogy...

  20. ...I fondly remember having a Krav Maga arm lock/wrist wrench maneuver demonstrated on me by an exceedingly attractive young lady at a very nice restaurant.

     

    She then put on her black gloves and started talking about Fascism.

     

     

    I may need more lessons to become competent. :rolleyes:

  21. My current insane theories are :

     

    2 ) How do you balance full borgs or other very well equipped players in a game where the GM is happy for those elements to be a part?

     

    Balance shmalance.

     

    I've been trying to make sure each post/turn, every player has something to do, that requires their talents. Thus, you can have your capoeirista-assault-borg drop-kicking AV4's whilst your street dwelling PI menaces a witness with his .38.

     

    Replace 'balance' with 'equivalence.'

     

    3 ) What are appropriate rewards in a really high powered corporate war game, that don't get boring or lead to long, 5 hour shopping sessions?

     

    1. Promotion! They now have to look after 4 teams of equivalent scale, deal with their underling's personal problems and pay them all. But they can bring hell to bear on their enemies. :D

     

    2. Really, really, wild parties. Make those Seduction & Resist Drug skills useful.

     

    3. Bigger Fights. Really, that's what we're here for. Offer them the chance to move from Security into Direct Action. It looks like advancement to the PC, and the Player gets more stuff to blow up. Win Win.

     

    4. Lamborghini AV6.

  22. ...Magic is inaccessible to un-augmented human minds, all AI's are automatically Wizards, because they have a deep immediate and unbiased perception of Reality - a 'Magic Singularity'? ;)

     

    And so, if you ally yourself to an AI, it may give you talisman/comms to summon its powers to your aid, but you never truly 'control' it, and it can withdraw at any time?

  23. Alright.

     

    We'll cool it, but keep going.

     

    Also - you may note, I updated the Red Team's MG's from RPDs to PKMs.

    Acronym typo late at night. Sigh.

     

    Yes, this does make them a threat to the L-Five, but they will have to bash their way through.

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