Let me run a power by you, as it's one that affects people's minds and I know some would consider that OP in and of itself. I had in mind a fae-touched trickster with a powerful glamour. People are simply compelled to believe what they say. It's not the same thing as an illusion, but it can be used in a similar way. They cannot create an image of a dragon, but what they can do is make you absolutely convinced that one is nearby.
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The foot traffic was normal for this time of day, which is to say there was a steady stream of pedestrians on the catwalk. Hally weaved between them as they made their slow motion way with the herd. She was already almost a hundred meters from the stairs when the Sandy cut off. The world rubber-band snapped back into place, and Hally stumbled with an undignified yelp of surprise, trying not to topple forward.
It’s a testament to the temperament of NC citizenry that only a few passersby reacted to the sudden apparition of a bloody school girl with more than a moderate increase of walking pace. While her fellow man debated over whether or not she was “their problem,” Hally was trying to control a rampant twitch in her left forearm. She had the presence of mind to keep walking, and join the flow of traffic as she examined her arm. The baton almost slipped from her twitching grip, and she realized that there was blood on her hand. Her own blood, it had flowed down her arm from her shoulder, where the blade had cut her. With a mental command, Hally brought up a heads-up-display for her biomon onto her optics, and noted that her pain editor was doing a lot of work. All of the work, actually.
Her fingers fumbled the switch on her baton, and she had to cradle the Tyger Claw’s stolen club in her elbow so that she could work the catch with her right hand, collapse the baton, and put it back in her pocket. From a different pocket, she pulled out a slim pocket medkit and selected a compact airhypo. She pulled back her uniform jacket and shirt(a cumbersome task with the club still in her arms) and jabbed herself somewhere she guessed was near the wound. It was not lost on her that the task would have been easier if she had let herself feel the pain. Instead of doing that, she finally relented and looked over her shoulder, trying to peer past fellow pedestrians to see what was happening down on the street. The Tyger kids were nowhere to be seen, and she almost missed Papa Tyger, as he got into the passenger seat of a Mizutani Shion(she thought it might be the same model she owned). The car drove off, and Hally wondered if she had at least scared them off for the day.
She almost laughed as she turned to keep walking. The bleeding had at least stopped for now, and she would see a ripperdoc soon, but in the meantime she pulled a bandage from the same medpack and slapped it a little haphazardly over the wound. The techfabric of the bandage automatically formed a seal, and applied antiseptics to the wound. She had felt a little silly when she’d packed all her gear for this job. It had been a thoughtful mental list of things she thought she might need, and she had wondered all the while if Morgan Blackhand ever did anything that gonk. But her gear was right. She’d had what she needed, and had even acquired a weapon by disarming a mark in the field. The mark had been a child, and the weapon was, now she looked at it, a cheap thing of heavy 3D printed resin. But she hadn’t done too bad, really. And if the Tyger Claws really were leaving for the day, she’d even actually accomplished something. The kids were safe for a day, and a message had been sent that they weren’t unprotected.
But there was something else. Hally thought back to what they had wanted. They would surely have taken any money a student had, but that wasn’t what they’d actually asked for first. They had been after data. When she had been a student of the original Arasaka Academy, her father had warned her about schemes like this. Targeting the children of wealthy or influential people, collecting any and all raw data they can, picking through it to learn net architecture and encryption types, and try to find vulnerabilities to exploit. Except, of course, the kids going to the new and improved AAcademy didn’t have rich or influential parents to gain access to via netrunning shenanigans. So what was the game? And what was her next step? The solo would call their fixer, right? She opened her a message window in her optics display, and subvocalized a message to Ken.
“Mister Ikari, I have an update for you.”
It’s a testament to the temperament of NC citizenry that only a few passersby reacted to the sudden apparition of a bloody school girl with more than a moderate increase of walking pace. While her fellow man debated over whether or not she was “their problem,” Hally was trying to control a rampant twitch in her left forearm. She had the presence of mind to keep walking, and join the flow of traffic as she examined her arm. The baton almost slipped from her twitching grip, and she realized that there was blood on her hand. Her own blood, it had flowed down her arm from her shoulder, where the blade had cut her. With a mental command, Hally brought up a heads-up-display for her biomon onto her optics, and noted that her pain editor was doing a lot of work. All of the work, actually.
Her fingers fumbled the switch on her baton, and she had to cradle the Tyger Claw’s stolen club in her elbow so that she could work the catch with her right hand, collapse the baton, and put it back in her pocket. From a different pocket, she pulled out a slim pocket medkit and selected a compact airhypo. She pulled back her uniform jacket and shirt(a cumbersome task with the club still in her arms) and jabbed herself somewhere she guessed was near the wound. It was not lost on her that the task would have been easier if she had let herself feel the pain. Instead of doing that, she finally relented and looked over her shoulder, trying to peer past fellow pedestrians to see what was happening down on the street. The Tyger kids were nowhere to be seen, and she almost missed Papa Tyger, as he got into the passenger seat of a Mizutani Shion(she thought it might be the same model she owned). The car drove off, and Hally wondered if she had at least scared them off for the day.
She almost laughed as she turned to keep walking. The bleeding had at least stopped for now, and she would see a ripperdoc soon, but in the meantime she pulled a bandage from the same medpack and slapped it a little haphazardly over the wound. The techfabric of the bandage automatically formed a seal, and applied antiseptics to the wound. She had felt a little silly when she’d packed all her gear for this job. It had been a thoughtful mental list of things she thought she might need, and she had wondered all the while if Morgan Blackhand ever did anything that gonk. But her gear was right. She’d had what she needed, and had even acquired a weapon by disarming a mark in the field. The mark had been a child, and the weapon was, now she looked at it, a cheap thing of heavy 3D printed resin. But she hadn’t done too bad, really. And if the Tyger Claws really were leaving for the day, she’d even actually accomplished something. The kids were safe for a day, and a message had been sent that they weren’t unprotected.
But there was something else. Hally thought back to what they had wanted. They would surely have taken any money a student had, but that wasn’t what they’d actually asked for first. They had been after data. When she had been a student of the original Arasaka Academy, her father had warned her about schemes like this. Targeting the children of wealthy or influential people, collecting any and all raw data they can, picking through it to learn net architecture and encryption types, and try to find vulnerabilities to exploit. Except, of course, the kids going to the new and improved AAcademy didn’t have rich or influential parents to gain access to via netrunning shenanigans. So what was the game? And what was her next step? The solo would call their fixer, right? She opened her a message window in her optics display, and subvocalized a message to Ken.
“Mister Ikari, I have an update for you.”
AAcademy - Collab between @Gisk and @Letter Bee
Ken Illustrious Ikari was of the same age as the students he had under his wing, although very few people knew that. The diplomas - Actual paper ones as well as digital copies - pinned on wooden frames behind his chair, on the wall of his office, showed that he had the intellect to manage an Academy of his own, however. Well, technically.
Facing Hally, the young man - Barely out of boyhood - spoke to the would-be Edgerunner, "I won't beat around the bush; I bought Arasaka Academy's name, changed it to AAcademy, and now Arasaka is sending the Tyger Claws to mess with me and my students. No one has died yet, no one has gotten injured yet, but it's only a matter of time unless someone scares them off. That's where you come in; I need you to chase the Claws roaming around AAcademy grounds, beat up a few, but make sure they are scared, not dead. Can you do that?"
Hally stood when he approached, and almost made to shake his hand out of habit. She aborted the motion, and instead ran a nervous hand up the zipper of her jacket.
"From what I've heard, you should be happy they didn't send lawyers. Guess the climate ain't right for them at present. This is a little out of Claw stomping grounds, isn't it?" The barest thread of anxiety, as if she might betray unforgivable ignorance.
Ken gave Hally a half-glare at the allegation as he said, "I changed the name enough to avoid a watertight copyright case for them. As for this not being the usual Tyger stomping grounds... You'd be surprised; as a last gesture of spite, 'Saka fed those pricks enough to expand once more and wreak havoc."
He then mused, "So we need some of those pricks beaten. Not dead, beaten. If we kill them, they might descend on this Academy and my students in droves, and I do not want that..."
So she was gonna rough up some punks that were bothering school children... Big league job, that. When Hally thought of her last conversation with Wakako, though, she started to feel a lot like a beggar trying to choose. Still, if she could distinguish herself, that was street cred in the pocket. Something, anyway.
She tapped a manicured nail against the pommel of the sword in her grasp, thinking as she re-applied herself to the task. "Okay. Do we know a specific gangoon that causes the trouble? A head we can cut off the snake?" That was a cool fucking line, right? Then she ruined it, "Uh, so to speak. No, y'know, cutting."
"Not yet, sadly, but the Claws have been stalking the main approaches to the AAcademy building and grounds, robbing students, mugging them, and otherwise giving them a hard time - It's only a matter of time before someone gets killed."
"They like to pick on students who are alone?" She asked, thinking back to her own time in school. It wasn't Tyger Claws back then, just some older, richer girls. But that was how bullying was done, wasn't it?
"You got a uniform in my size?"
Ken smiled and said, "We do, actually. My policy towards uniforms is to pay for ruined ones personally when the student actually wants to study here..."
An indication of his sincerity and more than a little naivete. The two walked to a supply room. They found a fitting uniform, and Hally was given an unused room as a base of operations, and left to it. She didn’t have much in the way of operations that needed basing, but she left the clothes and her sword there for a few hours while she ran out and bought a more discrete weapon.
She got back in plenty of time, and got dressed in the AAcademy uniform. Looking at herself in the mirror was odd, she’d worn a very similar uniform for years, and truthfully had never had much of an opinion of it. Now it made her think of an old action flick. Cheerleader Panic, where a school girl went berserk(fan theories even insisted cyberpsychosis) and carved up her whole class. Not one of Hally’s favorites, but she was warming up to the aesthetic.
Hally pulled her hair loose, and redid it more carefully. A pair of space buns, straight bangs with face framing. She sent a command to her Agent that changed the color to a bright purple right before her eyes. Another mental command gave her glittering eye shadow and glossy pink lips. Was that trendy? Chipping in and moving out had distracted her pretty thoroughly from fashion for a few months. She hoped she looked enough like a teenager, but there was only so much she could do on the fly with tech hair and chem skin.
The sword was too obvious, so she left it with her street clothes; and she had to wear her own sneakers, but that wasn’t too out of the ordinary for the student body. Hally gathered they were largely what her father would call “underprivileged,” and most others would simply call “broke.” What were the Claws even mugging off these poor kids?
Hally made a point to be the first student out and walking down the street, ostensibly going home. If she hung back, she might have a better chance of fooling them. But then the thugs might harass some of the students first, and that’s exactly what she was trying to avoid. Being paid to avoid, in fact.
Tyger Claws actually aren’t all that hard to find, if you wanted to for some gonk reason. Hally already got from Mr. Ikari the streets that they were most commonly hanging out on, and from there she looked for the one that people were noticeably avoiding. Sure enough, a bunch of prototypical Claws were loitering in a stairwell that let off onto the sidewalk. Hally deliberately didn’t look at them any more than she had to. She put her eyes to the ground, angled slightly away and…
They took the bait.
She nearly ran into one of those big studded clubs they liked as it was thrust into her path to block her. The surprised look on her face was more real than she would ever admit, but of course she knew this would happen. There were two others flanking him, and one that Hally could just about feel leering behind her back. It would be fine. She had her own surprises.
“Chips, pretty girl. No need to reach, Ai will get them.”
The one behind came in closer, and Hally realized they must be a pick-socket. She couldn’t let them get her skill chips off of her, or she’d be useless in a fight. So she let the fight-soft kick in; a hand came up lightning quick and grabbed the club. The gangoon had a lax grip, trying to swagger as he was, and lost control of the weapon as Hally slammed it into his face. Blood flowed, and she yanked it out of his hand, spinning and dropping in a fluid motion. She jabbed the end of the club behind her, striking the pick-socket(a girl in athletic wear and a high pony) in the belly. She went down like a sack of potatoes.
Hally was standing again, and raising the club in a pre-programmed motion straight from a sword manual somewhere. But she held back. The gangoons were already cowering. The first guy was squatting on his heels, holding his face and sobbing, one of his chooms was backing away slowly, hands up and wide eyed, and the other was already gone. The girl behind her was whining like… well like a teenage girl who had just been jabbed in the gut by a cybernetically enhanced mercenary. And that’s exactly what she was, now that Hally stopped to examine the remaining “gangoons.” They couldn’t be any older than the kids they were mugging. Not a lick of chrome between them, either.
Hally pointed the commandeered weapon at the one who was still standing. He had a wispy mustache, and the kind of cheap wraparound mirrorshades you can get in a vending machine. He was still holding a knife, just a metal slab with an edge really, but he didn’t seem to even know he had it.
“Drop it,” he did, “Just what are you gonk kids playing at?”
The boy stared at her for just a second, before realizing he was the only one available to answer, then he explained himself all in a rush, “They just said - We were just getting chips, cards and shards and stuff!”
“Who ‘just said’?” Hally took a menacing step forward, brandishing the club. She didn’t think she could really hit him now that she’d gotten a better look at him, but he didn’t need to know that.
The kid glanced to her right, and Hally turned around in time to see the blade coming down. Later on, Hally would look back on this moment and feel like a goddamned action hero. In the moment, however, she mostly felt the tanto slicing into her left shoulder. It had been meant for her throat, but her fight-soft had kicked in again, and the stolen greatclub had moved against her will to strike the man’s forearm. His slash went wide, and cut into first jacket, then shirt, then Hally. Blood flowed, but her arm still moved, and she used it to palm strike his chest, sending him stumbling back.
He wasn’t some kid. This man was a Tyger Claw of the type Hally was used to seeing around Japantown. The type she saw people cross the street to avoid. Floppy neon green hair, a plasticky face plate with subdermal LEDs. A silk shirt and slacks, which was actually worrying. That was something someone in charge wore.
“If it isn’t Papa Tyger,” Hally tried to sound cool while she could feel her heart rate skyrocketing.
“[You may call me Daddy, if you like],” he spoke in Japanese, but her Agent translated it automatically. He was moving back toward her, holding the knife in front of him in a much more natural stance than the one Hally had adopted.
“Ew,” was all Hally said as she pulled her brand new collapsible baton from her pocket with her free hand. In one motion, she drew it, extended it, and smashed his knife arm at the wrist. He was looking at her more obvious weapon, and Hally was glad she had this one in reserve. His hand bent at a weird angle, and the fingers twitched oddly, but he just looked at it in mild surprise. She had broken chrome, not bone. There was an ominous ripping sound as the left sleeve of his nice shirt tore open, revealing a mantis blade that was slowly, almost theatrically, unfolding from his arm. He looked at her with a curiosity that set alarm bells ringing in Hally’s head.
Before he could take another dramatic step toward her, Hally triggered her Sandevistan. The world around her slowed, and Hally moved through it like a knife cutting the air, shoving the end of the club into his torso. He was no gonk kid, and Hally put more into the move than she had last time. She didn't stick around to see the effect, though. While her neurons were still burning on overdrive from the speedware, she turned and sprinted up the nearby stairs, fleeing on an upper pedestrian walkway.
Ken Illustrious Ikari was of the same age as the students he had under his wing, although very few people knew that. The diplomas - Actual paper ones as well as digital copies - pinned on wooden frames behind his chair, on the wall of his office, showed that he had the intellect to manage an Academy of his own, however. Well, technically.
Facing Hally, the young man - Barely out of boyhood - spoke to the would-be Edgerunner, "I won't beat around the bush; I bought Arasaka Academy's name, changed it to AAcademy, and now Arasaka is sending the Tyger Claws to mess with me and my students. No one has died yet, no one has gotten injured yet, but it's only a matter of time unless someone scares them off. That's where you come in; I need you to chase the Claws roaming around AAcademy grounds, beat up a few, but make sure they are scared, not dead. Can you do that?"
Hally stood when he approached, and almost made to shake his hand out of habit. She aborted the motion, and instead ran a nervous hand up the zipper of her jacket.
"From what I've heard, you should be happy they didn't send lawyers. Guess the climate ain't right for them at present. This is a little out of Claw stomping grounds, isn't it?" The barest thread of anxiety, as if she might betray unforgivable ignorance.
Ken gave Hally a half-glare at the allegation as he said, "I changed the name enough to avoid a watertight copyright case for them. As for this not being the usual Tyger stomping grounds... You'd be surprised; as a last gesture of spite, 'Saka fed those pricks enough to expand once more and wreak havoc."
He then mused, "So we need some of those pricks beaten. Not dead, beaten. If we kill them, they might descend on this Academy and my students in droves, and I do not want that..."
So she was gonna rough up some punks that were bothering school children... Big league job, that. When Hally thought of her last conversation with Wakako, though, she started to feel a lot like a beggar trying to choose. Still, if she could distinguish herself, that was street cred in the pocket. Something, anyway.
She tapped a manicured nail against the pommel of the sword in her grasp, thinking as she re-applied herself to the task. "Okay. Do we know a specific gangoon that causes the trouble? A head we can cut off the snake?" That was a cool fucking line, right? Then she ruined it, "Uh, so to speak. No, y'know, cutting."
"Not yet, sadly, but the Claws have been stalking the main approaches to the AAcademy building and grounds, robbing students, mugging them, and otherwise giving them a hard time - It's only a matter of time before someone gets killed."
"They like to pick on students who are alone?" She asked, thinking back to her own time in school. It wasn't Tyger Claws back then, just some older, richer girls. But that was how bullying was done, wasn't it?
"You got a uniform in my size?"
Ken smiled and said, "We do, actually. My policy towards uniforms is to pay for ruined ones personally when the student actually wants to study here..."
An indication of his sincerity and more than a little naivete. The two walked to a supply room. They found a fitting uniform, and Hally was given an unused room as a base of operations, and left to it. She didn’t have much in the way of operations that needed basing, but she left the clothes and her sword there for a few hours while she ran out and bought a more discrete weapon.
She got back in plenty of time, and got dressed in the AAcademy uniform. Looking at herself in the mirror was odd, she’d worn a very similar uniform for years, and truthfully had never had much of an opinion of it. Now it made her think of an old action flick. Cheerleader Panic, where a school girl went berserk(fan theories even insisted cyberpsychosis) and carved up her whole class. Not one of Hally’s favorites, but she was warming up to the aesthetic.
Hally pulled her hair loose, and redid it more carefully. A pair of space buns, straight bangs with face framing. She sent a command to her Agent that changed the color to a bright purple right before her eyes. Another mental command gave her glittering eye shadow and glossy pink lips. Was that trendy? Chipping in and moving out had distracted her pretty thoroughly from fashion for a few months. She hoped she looked enough like a teenager, but there was only so much she could do on the fly with tech hair and chem skin.
The sword was too obvious, so she left it with her street clothes; and she had to wear her own sneakers, but that wasn’t too out of the ordinary for the student body. Hally gathered they were largely what her father would call “underprivileged,” and most others would simply call “broke.” What were the Claws even mugging off these poor kids?
Hally made a point to be the first student out and walking down the street, ostensibly going home. If she hung back, she might have a better chance of fooling them. But then the thugs might harass some of the students first, and that’s exactly what she was trying to avoid. Being paid to avoid, in fact.
Tyger Claws actually aren’t all that hard to find, if you wanted to for some gonk reason. Hally already got from Mr. Ikari the streets that they were most commonly hanging out on, and from there she looked for the one that people were noticeably avoiding. Sure enough, a bunch of prototypical Claws were loitering in a stairwell that let off onto the sidewalk. Hally deliberately didn’t look at them any more than she had to. She put her eyes to the ground, angled slightly away and…
They took the bait.
She nearly ran into one of those big studded clubs they liked as it was thrust into her path to block her. The surprised look on her face was more real than she would ever admit, but of course she knew this would happen. There were two others flanking him, and one that Hally could just about feel leering behind her back. It would be fine. She had her own surprises.
“Chips, pretty girl. No need to reach, Ai will get them.”
The one behind came in closer, and Hally realized they must be a pick-socket. She couldn’t let them get her skill chips off of her, or she’d be useless in a fight. So she let the fight-soft kick in; a hand came up lightning quick and grabbed the club. The gangoon had a lax grip, trying to swagger as he was, and lost control of the weapon as Hally slammed it into his face. Blood flowed, and she yanked it out of his hand, spinning and dropping in a fluid motion. She jabbed the end of the club behind her, striking the pick-socket(a girl in athletic wear and a high pony) in the belly. She went down like a sack of potatoes.
Hally was standing again, and raising the club in a pre-programmed motion straight from a sword manual somewhere. But she held back. The gangoons were already cowering. The first guy was squatting on his heels, holding his face and sobbing, one of his chooms was backing away slowly, hands up and wide eyed, and the other was already gone. The girl behind her was whining like… well like a teenage girl who had just been jabbed in the gut by a cybernetically enhanced mercenary. And that’s exactly what she was, now that Hally stopped to examine the remaining “gangoons.” They couldn’t be any older than the kids they were mugging. Not a lick of chrome between them, either.
Hally pointed the commandeered weapon at the one who was still standing. He had a wispy mustache, and the kind of cheap wraparound mirrorshades you can get in a vending machine. He was still holding a knife, just a metal slab with an edge really, but he didn’t seem to even know he had it.
“Drop it,” he did, “Just what are you gonk kids playing at?”
The boy stared at her for just a second, before realizing he was the only one available to answer, then he explained himself all in a rush, “They just said - We were just getting chips, cards and shards and stuff!”
“Who ‘just said’?” Hally took a menacing step forward, brandishing the club. She didn’t think she could really hit him now that she’d gotten a better look at him, but he didn’t need to know that.
The kid glanced to her right, and Hally turned around in time to see the blade coming down. Later on, Hally would look back on this moment and feel like a goddamned action hero. In the moment, however, she mostly felt the tanto slicing into her left shoulder. It had been meant for her throat, but her fight-soft had kicked in again, and the stolen greatclub had moved against her will to strike the man’s forearm. His slash went wide, and cut into first jacket, then shirt, then Hally. Blood flowed, but her arm still moved, and she used it to palm strike his chest, sending him stumbling back.
He wasn’t some kid. This man was a Tyger Claw of the type Hally was used to seeing around Japantown. The type she saw people cross the street to avoid. Floppy neon green hair, a plasticky face plate with subdermal LEDs. A silk shirt and slacks, which was actually worrying. That was something someone in charge wore.
“If it isn’t Papa Tyger,” Hally tried to sound cool while she could feel her heart rate skyrocketing.
“[You may call me Daddy, if you like],” he spoke in Japanese, but her Agent translated it automatically. He was moving back toward her, holding the knife in front of him in a much more natural stance than the one Hally had adopted.
“Ew,” was all Hally said as she pulled her brand new collapsible baton from her pocket with her free hand. In one motion, she drew it, extended it, and smashed his knife arm at the wrist. He was looking at her more obvious weapon, and Hally was glad she had this one in reserve. His hand bent at a weird angle, and the fingers twitched oddly, but he just looked at it in mild surprise. She had broken chrome, not bone. There was an ominous ripping sound as the left sleeve of his nice shirt tore open, revealing a mantis blade that was slowly, almost theatrically, unfolding from his arm. He looked at her with a curiosity that set alarm bells ringing in Hally’s head.
Before he could take another dramatic step toward her, Hally triggered her Sandevistan. The world around her slowed, and Hally moved through it like a knife cutting the air, shoving the end of the club into his torso. He was no gonk kid, and Hally put more into the move than she had last time. She didn't stick around to see the effect, though. While her neurons were still burning on overdrive from the speedware, she turned and sprinted up the nearby stairs, fleeing on an upper pedestrian walkway.
@Letter Bee@Deide
The night before, Hallelujah had been at Riot. She’d told herself it was to get her face out there(there are better clubs for it, but not nice ones), that people would see her checking her steel at the door, and wonder who she was. Important people go to bars, if they know her face, that can help, right? Maybe she would get into a little scrap, ask the poor gonk if they wanna take it outside?
That hadn’t happened. She had danced, drank a little, chatted some folks up, and just generally went through the motions of a night at the club. She didn’t even really enjoy herself. Instead of having fun memories with friends afterward(what she imagined the goal of a night out was), she woke up just before noon feeling vaguely silly. Pushing away both silk covers and nagging doubts, Hally got up out of bed and looked around at her spare studio apartment. She told herself she would use daddy’s credit only for emergencies and necessities(like going to the club to get your name out) and the studio’s emptiness made her feel like she was accomplishing that, if nothing else.
Her mattress is a nice memory foam one, but it is also on the floor. There’s a small closet on the other side of the room, which she is paying separate rent for. If her rent falls behind, they’ll lock it remotely, automatically dump the contents into a shoot down to the laundry facility, and sell it at a consignment shop. If her repoed possessions fetch enough to cover her rent and all applicable late fees, she can apply again to lease the closet, provided her credit has not been too badly affected by the eviction now on her record. The closet could only fit half of her wardrobe, the rest were presently still in shopping bags, neatly arrayed to the left of the closet door.
The bathroom was a kind of pod. Big enough to stand in, with a little alcove that the toilet sat in. Toilet tissue could be dispensed from a vending machine that sold it to her by the sheet, tallied up and added to her rent. Moreover, the paper was always water damaged from the shower, so she had just bought a pack and kept it nearby. No sucker, Hallelujah Pritchard(or so she thought, until her rent came due two weeks later, and she discovered that they’d charged her for the water damage to the rolls of paper in the machine anyway).
She stood in the pod, in nothing but the loose shirt she slept in, and looked at herself in the mirror built into the sidewall, just below the shower faucet, and just above the sink faucet. She still had her faux-makeup on from last night, and with a quick mental command to her integrated Agent, her chem-skin cleared immediately to the artfully freckled default she had set. She was just starting to wonder what she was going to even bother getting dressed for today when her holo rang. She answered it with another little mental “flick,” and Wakako Okada appeared in her vision, just up and to the left of centered. On the other end, Hally knew an equally false version of herself would appear for Wakako, stylishly dressed and carefully curated.
“Miss Pritchard, I hope that I am not interrupting important business.”
Hally Grimaced, and hoped that nothing of it showed on the holo, or in her voice, “Just finished brunch,” she answered, as brightly as she could. “Free now, h-how can I help you?” A bit of a lame finish, but how do you talk to a fixer? Wakako is a powerful woman, and one who might actually offer work, of the kind Hally wanted. She wanted to sound willing and ready, but was afraid she had already been too eager when asking after a job before.
“Good, I am hoping there is something you can help with. If, that is, you are still serious about doing merc work…”
Hally almost just shouted “Yes!” but kept her cool a moment longer. Don’t seem too eager, remember. “Might be, what’s the gig?”
“The new management for Arasaka Academy is having trouble with some Tyger Claws.”
“I went there,” Hally bleated stupidly, and thumped her fist against the sink, frustrated at her own slip. It turned out not to matter, as Wakako continued.
“I know this. I might have chosen you for the job for that reason, except the client already gave you the nod. Strange, do you know this Ken Illustrious Ikari?”
“Never heard of him,” Hally answered honestly, and the bare bewilderment in her voice made Wakako believe her. “He knows me, how?”
“Information is valuable,” she almost sounded like she was scolding a child with his hand in the cookie jar, and Hally sure felt like it, “You have no credit with me. Not yet. If you are truly set on this path, you must earn it.”
“I will,” she said in a voice both small and somber.
“We will see. Coordinates incoming.” The call disconnected.
~~~
Despite staring in the mirror for the entire conversation, Hally forgot to set her makeup, and ended up leaving her apartment with her hair in a messy bun. She threw on a crop top, black syn-leather jeans, some high-top sneakers, and a magenta pozer-jacket. She had a 2068 Archer Quartz, bought quietly with her secret credit line. She also owned a much newer Mizutani Shion, but was worried her father could track it. The yellow paint on the older car was faded, but she actually thought it was kind of cute. It certainly got her from A to B, anyway, and did so today.
Arasaka Academy was… not how she remembered. Of course, it wasn’t really the same school she had attended. It was just kind of wearing its namesakes’ clothes. The uniforms were a different color, but otherwise identical. Which was good in Hally’s mind, as the red and black motif had been an eyesore. She had expected a cold corpo secretary of a type she was fairly familiar with, but was instead greeted at the desk by a pleasant woman not much older than herself.
Hally was directed to the big boss’s office, and sat in a chair in the waiting area just outside. She unbuckled her sword, and held it in both hands between her knees, her chin resting on the pommel and its sheathed tip on the floor.
The night before, Hallelujah had been at Riot. She’d told herself it was to get her face out there(there are better clubs for it, but not nice ones), that people would see her checking her steel at the door, and wonder who she was. Important people go to bars, if they know her face, that can help, right? Maybe she would get into a little scrap, ask the poor gonk if they wanna take it outside?
That hadn’t happened. She had danced, drank a little, chatted some folks up, and just generally went through the motions of a night at the club. She didn’t even really enjoy herself. Instead of having fun memories with friends afterward(what she imagined the goal of a night out was), she woke up just before noon feeling vaguely silly. Pushing away both silk covers and nagging doubts, Hally got up out of bed and looked around at her spare studio apartment. She told herself she would use daddy’s credit only for emergencies and necessities(like going to the club to get your name out) and the studio’s emptiness made her feel like she was accomplishing that, if nothing else.
Her mattress is a nice memory foam one, but it is also on the floor. There’s a small closet on the other side of the room, which she is paying separate rent for. If her rent falls behind, they’ll lock it remotely, automatically dump the contents into a shoot down to the laundry facility, and sell it at a consignment shop. If her repoed possessions fetch enough to cover her rent and all applicable late fees, she can apply again to lease the closet, provided her credit has not been too badly affected by the eviction now on her record. The closet could only fit half of her wardrobe, the rest were presently still in shopping bags, neatly arrayed to the left of the closet door.
The bathroom was a kind of pod. Big enough to stand in, with a little alcove that the toilet sat in. Toilet tissue could be dispensed from a vending machine that sold it to her by the sheet, tallied up and added to her rent. Moreover, the paper was always water damaged from the shower, so she had just bought a pack and kept it nearby. No sucker, Hallelujah Pritchard(or so she thought, until her rent came due two weeks later, and she discovered that they’d charged her for the water damage to the rolls of paper in the machine anyway).
She stood in the pod, in nothing but the loose shirt she slept in, and looked at herself in the mirror built into the sidewall, just below the shower faucet, and just above the sink faucet. She still had her faux-makeup on from last night, and with a quick mental command to her integrated Agent, her chem-skin cleared immediately to the artfully freckled default she had set. She was just starting to wonder what she was going to even bother getting dressed for today when her holo rang. She answered it with another little mental “flick,” and Wakako Okada appeared in her vision, just up and to the left of centered. On the other end, Hally knew an equally false version of herself would appear for Wakako, stylishly dressed and carefully curated.
“Miss Pritchard, I hope that I am not interrupting important business.”
Hally Grimaced, and hoped that nothing of it showed on the holo, or in her voice, “Just finished brunch,” she answered, as brightly as she could. “Free now, h-how can I help you?” A bit of a lame finish, but how do you talk to a fixer? Wakako is a powerful woman, and one who might actually offer work, of the kind Hally wanted. She wanted to sound willing and ready, but was afraid she had already been too eager when asking after a job before.
“Good, I am hoping there is something you can help with. If, that is, you are still serious about doing merc work…”
Hally almost just shouted “Yes!” but kept her cool a moment longer. Don’t seem too eager, remember. “Might be, what’s the gig?”
“The new management for Arasaka Academy is having trouble with some Tyger Claws.”
“I went there,” Hally bleated stupidly, and thumped her fist against the sink, frustrated at her own slip. It turned out not to matter, as Wakako continued.
“I know this. I might have chosen you for the job for that reason, except the client already gave you the nod. Strange, do you know this Ken Illustrious Ikari?”
“Never heard of him,” Hally answered honestly, and the bare bewilderment in her voice made Wakako believe her. “He knows me, how?”
“Information is valuable,” she almost sounded like she was scolding a child with his hand in the cookie jar, and Hally sure felt like it, “You have no credit with me. Not yet. If you are truly set on this path, you must earn it.”
“I will,” she said in a voice both small and somber.
“We will see. Coordinates incoming.” The call disconnected.
~~~
Despite staring in the mirror for the entire conversation, Hally forgot to set her makeup, and ended up leaving her apartment with her hair in a messy bun. She threw on a crop top, black syn-leather jeans, some high-top sneakers, and a magenta pozer-jacket. She had a 2068 Archer Quartz, bought quietly with her secret credit line. She also owned a much newer Mizutani Shion, but was worried her father could track it. The yellow paint on the older car was faded, but she actually thought it was kind of cute. It certainly got her from A to B, anyway, and did so today.
Arasaka Academy was… not how she remembered. Of course, it wasn’t really the same school she had attended. It was just kind of wearing its namesakes’ clothes. The uniforms were a different color, but otherwise identical. Which was good in Hally’s mind, as the red and black motif had been an eyesore. She had expected a cold corpo secretary of a type she was fairly familiar with, but was instead greeted at the desk by a pleasant woman not much older than herself.
Hally was directed to the big boss’s office, and sat in a chair in the waiting area just outside. She unbuckled her sword, and held it in both hands between her knees, her chin resting on the pommel and its sheathed tip on the floor.
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Looking for partner(s) for a character driven story, for which I have characters in mind(and not much else).
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5 mos ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
@Mistress Dizzy
What if they're related through marriage? In Fazra's backstory(as it currently stands, I can and will change it if necessary for our own story) her father married into a noble/royal family to make an alliance with a human kingdom. Maybe Kijani is a cousin, or even a step sibling(Fazra currently has a human step brother in her background already).
You certainly don't have to go with that, just something in throwing at the wall.
What if they're related through marriage? In Fazra's backstory(as it currently stands, I can and will change it if necessary for our own story) her father married into a noble/royal family to make an alliance with a human kingdom. Maybe Kijani is a cousin, or even a step sibling(Fazra currently has a human step brother in her background already).
You certainly don't have to go with that, just something in throwing at the wall.
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Looking for partner(s) for a character driven story, for which I have characters in mind(and not much else).
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5 mos ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
@Mistress Dizzy She could be really fun as a fantasy character. Maybe a princess or noble's daughter with a keen interest in scholarship.
I'm actually having a conversation with someone about a story with Fazra, if you're interested in a small group we can see if we can fit all three characters into something.
@Meleck the Grey
I'm sorry, but I'm more interested in a story with this character, so I'll have to call a rain check, as it were. If you're open to it in the future, maybe we can pick the idea back up.
I'm actually having a conversation with someone about a story with Fazra, if you're interested in a small group we can see if we can fit all three characters into something.
@Meleck the Grey
I'm sorry, but I'm more interested in a story with this character, so I'll have to call a rain check, as it were. If you're open to it in the future, maybe we can pick the idea back up.
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Looking for partner(s) for a character driven story, for which I have characters in mind(and not much else).
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5 mos ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
Also, here's a cyberpunk concept I came up with that never saw use. Basically an anti-capitalist gang. I don't know how they fit in, but maybe they will.
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Looking for partner(s) for a character driven story, for which I have characters in mind(and not much else).
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5 mos ago
Forum: Casual Interest Checks
@Meleck the Grey
I realized that Billy would actually work really well as a cyberpunk character. In the Cyberpunk TTRPG there's actually a class called the "Rockerboy" that's basically a sci-fi bard.
So here's the setup I have in mind, it kind of combines a handful of ideas. Andy and Billy knew each other in high school(we'll need to discuss what that entailed), but haven't kept in touch. Maybe it was a fancy private school.
Fast-forward some years, they've both lived their lives in a way, Billy ends up with some kind of crazy cybernetics tech in him(I'll need to think of how) and the company that owns it is after him. Andy is the only person he even remotely knows who has a medical background, and he seeks her out for help removing it(or else somehow disguising it so he can't be tracked). She can't help immediately for some reason or another, but Billy is wealthy, and once the Corp is off his tail, he can pay handsomely. Now they're stuck together until either the job is done, or they get killed.
How do you feel about a small group, though? I don't know how they'd fit in, necessarily, but if you(or anyone else reading this!) Has an idea, feel free to chime in.
EDIT: Actually, little pivot here. Artist sells out for fame and fortune, only to later regret it after finding out how much of his life has record label has control over.
It turns out some piece of cyberware that his label so kindly had installed is allowing them to track him. He doesn't know what it is or how it works. He does something desperate to blind the Corp, allowing him to get away, but it's only a matter of time before they're back on his tail. As with the previous idea, he goes to Andy, the only person he can think of.
I realized that Billy would actually work really well as a cyberpunk character. In the Cyberpunk TTRPG there's actually a class called the "Rockerboy" that's basically a sci-fi bard.
So here's the setup I have in mind, it kind of combines a handful of ideas. Andy and Billy knew each other in high school(we'll need to discuss what that entailed), but haven't kept in touch. Maybe it was a fancy private school.
Fast-forward some years, they've both lived their lives in a way, Billy ends up with some kind of crazy cybernetics tech in him(I'll need to think of how) and the company that owns it is after him. Andy is the only person he even remotely knows who has a medical background, and he seeks her out for help removing it(or else somehow disguising it so he can't be tracked). She can't help immediately for some reason or another, but Billy is wealthy, and once the Corp is off his tail, he can pay handsomely. Now they're stuck together until either the job is done, or they get killed.
How do you feel about a small group, though? I don't know how they'd fit in, necessarily, but if you(or anyone else reading this!) Has an idea, feel free to chime in.
EDIT: Actually, little pivot here. Artist sells out for fame and fortune, only to later regret it after finding out how much of his life has record label has control over.
It turns out some piece of cyberware that his label so kindly had installed is allowing them to track him. He doesn't know what it is or how it works. He does something desperate to blind the Corp, allowing him to get away, but it's only a matter of time before they're back on his tail. As with the previous idea, he goes to Andy, the only person he can think of.
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