Joe Q. Public

Ok, I got two outta three, Corrie just going as she is (still in her slightly bloodstained suit)?

Time check is 12:30 in the afternoon, skys are clear, traffic on the street is light, and the folks outside look slightly bundled up.

being that it is still early, the traffic outside will not be too bad, althought the weather can still be best described as clear and cold.

(What route do you take, surface streets, or back onto the expressway south?)

OOC: Ding Ding Ding!!! We have a winner!!!

Thanks for taking the effort.

now for the concensus.....

ooc: IN THE Geography sectin, I set up a link for city search Chicago.

Find what you will. Let me know which direction you are going

Flexing and dmiling for the ladies Hector see somthing out of the ordinary. The regularly scheduled mexican soap that is usually on his TV at this hour of the day has just been interupted.

There is a big yellow smiley face on the screen, and the message in mangeta is:

"Party is formal renissance, ren style accessories only. Flavor is eurocentric.

Admittence is for 6, under two seperate invites. Your collegues will meet you in Evanston later tonight and this week,

James."

as the message sits on the screen, there seem to be a faint tune in the background. Something like a person whistling the I dream of Genie tune.

It stays on for 20 seconds and is gone, turning the TV off along with it.

The kitchen, as kitchens of Chicago go, is real classic. Fake Mahogony cabinets, yellow paint and a white dinette set with six chairs around a rectangular table that predates everyone excpt maybe the refridgerator, a Gladiator frige complete with the Rhino-line surface and greasy fingerprints. onthe stove, a biogas model from the late teens, is a large covered pot that ever so slightly steams inthe corner burner and there is a supply of various things GOYA to select from. There are a few plates and an old glass beer mug inthe sink and of course no mexican kitchen is complete without a picture of the Virgin Mary above the sink.

The Under the cabinet flourescents are on as well as the switch onthe wall from the door turning on a white ceilng fan with 4 low E bulbs.

Corrie looks over at one of the bodies on the lawn, a short guy with long black hair and a pushbroom mustache, and as she prods him with her foot while asking where she should store the bodies she hears a groan.

"Hay, solemente, no mas, muy duemo.." and a look of half awake pain and flinching to protect the soft and now squishy parts of his shoulder and ribs..

Blackburn looks back in irritation, leaning heavily on the Mohawked wonder and says,

"That is what was about to look upm before i was so rudely brought back to bear. Go tothte safehouse, the details will be there late tonight, I'll have someone drop them off."

Numbm yes Sylvaine, if only numb would work. The training of the comunity service never really told you how much that flowing blood on your hands would be hot and stick tothe insides of your cuffs. This is definately gonna take some getting used to. Good thing the crew you are in don't seem overly upset by it. That means it will get better, right?...

Standing next to the truck, Sylvaine and Corrie both look around, Hector still trying to justify what happened at the resturrant to the two other gentlemen, one big and looking still a bit half cocked as he watches his associate get his marbles bag intot he usual bag.

"Oh shit, the party, it's masquerade, medevil costumes, only those masked and so attaired will be allowed in. Sounds like no armour, but high renissance to me," all of a sudden comes out of Jack's mouth, "so you guys have a couple days to get your stuff and meet up with the new contacts at the safehouse before the party."

Jack looks at Mr. Mike with a look of need to leave.

"Just remember that you need to work as a unit to find this guy, we really need to see just what happened to him and how to get him out. Thanks ladies and Hector, I'd like to go get well. Call me from the safehouse if you need to, speeddialer #9."

Jack starts to walk over to Mike and you hear them grumble back and forth how Mike needs him to take the bus, and jack bitching about Mike Never getting off his ass to get a car...

Jack Blackburn holds onto the side of Hector's truck, looks kinda disoreinted and turns his head to puke up his portion of swordfish and wine.

Mohawk Mike looks rather inpressed by the gutpile gathering around the rear tire and lights up his smoke and takes a long drag, purposfully pursing his lips during the exhale and bobs his head as he raises his eyebrows, making the feathery fan of hair wiggle up and down on his had as he does.

"Holy shit Jack, you look a bit fucked up, let me take you to my bro's and he'll check you up eh?"

Blackburn wipes his mouth, totally ignoring the rest of hte group for a second, "Yeah, maybe Joe can hook me up hyperbaric to settle my soul back in my bag." all of a sudden he remembers who's truck he is vomitting next to.

"Hector, Sylvaine, I will leave you all here then, details will be at the safehouse, and considering that meal we just had ended us atleast one person short, I will be contacting counterparts and they will meet you at the safehouse in Evanston later this afternoon. You have the address. Any questions?" The look of business tries to pull through this white and weakened looking body that used to be the very in control and stylish business man you all met earlier this morning.

The big plug of mean and srcasm looks blankly at your group as if looking at a room full of adolescents and continues to smoke his ssquare while keeping the rilfe tucked under his arm, the short walnut stock and the letters ".75 cal." barely showing under the girth of his upper arm...

Seeing hector pop the back open and Jack Blackburn stick his head out (looking like he had just been run over) The Big nasty looking white guy smiles just a bit, looks over at Jack and says

"Holy fuckin' shit Jack, can't even make it to lunch without the shitsandwich hitting you about the head, eh?" at which point he walks ove tothe truck, picks up Mr. Blackburn by the belt and pulls him first straight up with his left hand, then sets him down oon his feet, all the time trying to find a way to tuck the rifle that looks like a cross betweein an old style elephant gun and some piece of vehicle mounted ordinance., under his arm.

Setting Jack down he shakes his head and reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket, which is a standard looking armoured biker leather with a stainless steel left shoulder armour piece and Corrosion of Conformity and a spiked skull painted onthe back. On the right arm of the jacket there is nothing but a slightly flickering and glowing yellow smiley face....

"God, my fucking head hurts Mike," Mr. Blackburn groans, "what the fuck happened? All i did was put in a call and the next thing you know it, some freaking idiot ripped the plug out of my soul and left me screaming back into grits and gravy land..."

The Large mohican looks especially pissed at Hector as he exits the truck, and spits out his cigarette as he pumps the forestock on his rifle.

"Hector you stupid fuckin' beaner, what the fuck happened to Jack?!? Who the fuck are these people?" points tothe vados laying all around the yard, "Stupid fucking wetbacks, Didn't even know when to stop coming after I dropped the first two, good thing I am patient Hector, otherwise they'd all be dead. What the fuck ya do ya mutherfucker?!?'

(alll of this comes out in about 3 seconds as the large guy gets up and starts to walk across the yard toward Hector. The large mohawked stack of shit doesn't even blink the beady little blue eyes in his head as he cusses Hector a blue streak,

Whoevet this guy is, although he doesn't seem overtly hostile, he is definately a bit more than non plussed at the moment....

Thinking as they fly down the I 90 espressway to the Keenedy, Sylvaine knows of a tae kown do gym in wicker park two blocks from Red Dog, they usually are good for a few mats and some bags, although thier over the top wired style just seems cheap....

Pulling off to the North Ave exit Hector flies thru the cloverleaf and onto North Av heading West.

The last white face leave you as you cross Western and pull into the barrio.

Pulling up infront of the house, Hector notices a certain large white gentleman with a even larger blonde mohawk holding a VERY large rifle in his lap sitting on his porch. There seems to be the bodies of a few of his nieghborhood homies lying on the ground around him but there doesn't seem to be alot of blood to account for the three guys to be dead and on the ground.

The Large man looks to be smoking a cigarette and follow the truck wiht his head as Hector pulls by...

Hello again everyone!!!

First, thanks for staying on to the three, things will get moving at an even faster pace soon (more time idle since the porch will be done soon)

Second, to the new folks that have sent and had thier characters approved I cry

ROLL CALL:

(since there has been a bit of tranformation, I jsut wnat to establish our new players before I cue thier characters into the story)

Stand up and say a bit about yourselves!!!!

(continue fromm the Silverware post)

The sharp sting then cool wave of spray skin meets Corries neck as Slyvaine sprays a sealant layer where the mainiac tried to throat her. Getting intot he cab of the truck Hector shifts it into drive, pulling out with the two ladies next to him

(who is sitting where?)

Rolling out onto Michigan Ave and down the Mag Mile is always a treat. 20mph, and all the style and blantant prosperity that money can buy.

(are you driving surface streets or going to the expressway?)

The peak of rush hour has let up and it seems no one other than the idle rich and tourist are walking about in the sporatic stream of couriers on bike, mopeds and rollerblades swimming in and out of the avenues.

It was a good meal, and a time at the Drake you will not misplace anytime soon in your memories.

Only one issue, The boss is still in the trunk....

Lowering Mr. Blackburn Hector hear the first cohernt sounds from him.

"What the Fuck, God my head, who the fuck..." as he is set down inthe plush Vado's bedliner.

The flow of blood in Corrie's Neck is better described by my friends as and orthopedic surgery ooze rather than a vascular surgery gush, so the pressure is just about got it to stop. Reaching oover to dress the wound Slyvaine notices that although the skin was breached (and God only knows what the crazy shit ate before arriving here) the hunk of flesh that is Lolly Pop's Neck muscles (Sterno-cleato.mastoid muscle for you anatomy types) s still intact. Nasty wound though, better get to putting some woundsealant or sprayskin otherwise it's gonna be a nice full moon scar.

The Truck is in perfect shape, and if Hector didn't know any better, he would say that it alsmost looks cleaner than he brought it. The only thing that has changed is that there is a small sandalwood scented Script D hanging from the rearview mirror. The Valet smiles and says,

"my name is Pete, and thankyou for parking such a nice truck here at the Drake." At which point he smiles big and holds out his hand. "That'll be $26 sir. Card or cash?"

Upon your character pressing thier buttons on thier cards and handing Hector's over to the valet, The girl at the coatrcheck emerges with your coats and gear that you had stored. The Valet pulls up less than two minutes later with Hecotr's truck. about 2 seconds after the valet parks in front of the Drake a Chicago squad car pulls up, no siren, just the blue lights flashing overhead. The quickly note your characters faces in passing as they approach the doorman.

"What seems to be the problem here toady Frank? Another bad soup strike some poor unfortuante...?"

Frank smiles, slaps the cop five low and smiles at Corrie out of the side of his eye.

"No, just some psycho didn't want to split the bill, splitting his partner instead. We have the vid for it all so it should be easy to convict this guy here insdie the door. Did ya bring the vector lift? he's a heavy son of a bitch..."

Ok folks, so here we are about to end one segment of the chapter, Nick is fried and Mr Blackburn is garbling up some white froth from being dumped post haste out of the net.

There will be several characters joining the game soon.

So far i have compplete characters from Washboy, and Van Atta.

I need one more run thru Psiberzerker's character and it looks like Snowguard will be joining us afterall.

Thanks for staying and I am looking forward to chapter 2

The doorman, who is now at the door tothe resturant looks at Nick over Hector's shoulder and looks real irate.

"Sir, sir!", step fully in his way, "We need him to stay with us sir, otherwise explaining this little affair will just not work, understand sir?" looks for recognition in Hector's eyes.

The doorman also look down into his hands, all that is there is a remote with what seem to be an ON button.

OOC: Your point of order is noted, but for a quick explaination of what just came down from above and what the targeting beams were about.

The Drake, being a long time, well known establishment known for not only thier hospitality but also thier custommer service in anyonymity, have a very large microwaver that, kinda like the readily available hand held models, can be used to shut down a particularly offending cybered patron gone wrong (which, unbeknownst to most that deal there, happens 1-2 times a month). The main difference is the scope of the power charge. Where as the commercially available under barrel microwaver will do 1D6 damage plus a secondary EMP effect, the model in each of the corners of the Drake's main meeting room (4 in resturants, 2 in meeting rooms, 4 in ballrooms) is not held back in strength by the need to have a small portable power source (they are installed in the room) Thereby doing 2-20D6 microwaveer damage setable by the security detail at the Drake. Considering that it was set on SUBDUE instaed of FRY Your leg merely lost it's peripheral pressure sensor for being caught in the pattern of the shot (roughly a 2' pattern.)

So, no, I was aware of what's what, and just consider everything good that no one else ws closely engaged with Nick at the time (a percieved, singled out and calucated threat to the peace of the dining area).

But now, what did you want hector to do....

Rocky: The kidney kick doesn't so much bother the very maddened Nick so much as gets him away from you as you feel a wave of energy come from the ceiling, visbly distorting the air over your head and landing dead center on Mr. Nick's back.

You Notice that he starts to shake uncontrolably.

Hector seing his foot toward the prostate mass that is now Nick's shaking body and he notices sparks flying off the foot and ankle sections of his cyberfoot and has also just loss the sensation of pressure from the right foot up to about mid-calf.

The hand on Slyvaine's shoulder ends up being the maitre 'd, he looks sadly at you and says., "C'est fine madselle, we should really go now. Your host seems under the weather and there are many bad things happening at your table. Could you and your party please leave befoe the coroner and the police arrive, i am sure a lady of your caliber does not want to be attached to this issue. We already have enough men to take in you and your companion's stead..."

hecotr grabs the young man and tries to save him by wrapping his belt around the gujys arm. As hector tightens the belt on the quickly going limp body he takes a large spurt of blood to the eye. The Pumping seem to come from the young man's collar bones. This is gonna get messy.

Corrie pops the knife back out of the raging cybermonsters faces which them gouts blood into her eyes. As she takes the butt of the knife and beats it into hi head, she feels it not give at all, she could be banging a brick wall for all the give it has. While she soes this the manic grabs her hair and halfway smiles as he winks out of his good eye and punches her in the head. (Make a roll Rock)

Pressing like mad Slyvaine feels a sharp rise in the pressure of the wound she is holding just before the red geyser that squirts lifesaving red into her new partner's eyes. She feels a hand on her left shoulder.

Roll and declare folks. it's getting wet in here and no one knows what's happendd to the boss...

Hector: The beams stand fast on your chest plate as you notice that the young lady at the table next to you (the one you were sitting at) is getting her biceps chewed through by the psychopath that was just one minute sitting right next to you. The Suit also looks bad. Real bad. The bellhop grabs the gun from your hand and moves towards the girl in distress.

Corrie pops out the knive and pops it into the face of Nick, who them tries to scream as it finds it's way between the layers of metal jax and plated skull, sliding like a slim-jim inot a cardoor, the blade slips all the way upto the hilt and is buried in the maniac's face. Releasing pressure on her arm corrie can turn her arm to hold leverage on the handle with tow hands if she pleases as Nick is like a fish on a gaff...

Sylvaine looks quickly and sees that the main left and right vessels feedin ghte blood to each arm have been expertly sliced and are quickly punping blood out of the young man's torso. Flashes of grey and blue go before your eyes as you try to stop the bleeding. The entirety of your arms up to your elbows are bright scarlet and the pulse of blood seems slightly diverted, but still weakly pulsing underhand...

(New Round roll and declare.)

in order now.

Slyvaine exclaims at the poor dripping fellow that she met in the hall-

"No, please help me, Jaimie is gonna get killed, stop those guys..." at which point he falls face down onto the floor, as the puddle under his chest starts to flow larger and larger.

Corrie howls out in screaming pain as she finds the entire side of Nick the Horrible's head is pure-on steel effectively bouncing her knuckles off the rement hole inthe side of his head that used to be a natural ear. The popping of skin and the sounds of wet muscle being ripped into inspires her to go for the face, exposiing a full on metal jaw reconstruct. hell just got a lot more familiar as she starts to rip off his cheek...

The buzzing seems to have turned into beeping of his valet check key. The beams at coming across the room from all four courners of the ceiling. You notice the maitre 'd and a real big bellhop coming your way doubletime...

You see in you perphery Mr. Jack slide off the table and head for the floor, and he doesn't look good.

(Roll, declare and let's roll)

Again for the GM who's on first.

Nick the Merciless has his teeth imbedded into Corrie's arm and is tearing at it like a dog on a rag (sorry Rock, make another roll since you've taken 3 points of damage) working his way into her left bicep and trying like hell to get tothe other side. You have a good hold on his head with one arm, gotta see if you can take the pain and all...

Nick, the boy with the gun is KO'ed and looks like he better learn to write with his other hand. Looking around you notice that the buzz in your jacket has begun to beep and there is an ultraspectrum beam of 5 painting the entirety of you and your friend's chest in front of you.

Slyvaine is looking down at a quickly bleeding young man that winked and flirted w/ her in the lobby while noticing that the buzz in her purse isn't from her phone like she thought but from her coatcheck key instead. The violence and gore is starting to get a bit out of hand for her taste. Nerves help her search for her gun.

So does that bring us up to speed?

redeclare actions in turn 3 please if there are any changes....