FalloutJack

Shadowrun Down Under: Fantasy/Sci-fi

Why did he ask? Well, it was for simple reasons: He wanted to know just how human Voice really was. They say that cyberization dehumanizes you, to the point where being rather low on essence either means that you're cold and indifferent or even possibly insane. The final fate of Miki was rather important when you consider that it was a machine who decided what the last rites were going to be. Joe felt somewhat satisfied to know that Voice gave enough of a damn to bury her, even more so that she insisted on taking Diesel for a ride to Japan. That said enough on the true motivations of their friendly decker. In the words of some people maybe fifty years back: 'Seems legit'.

However, not all of them were sold on this, not even in the 'Frag, alright already...' kind of sense. There was Steph, AKA Fashion, their Face. Joe knew right off that this wasn't going to fly well with her, 'cause he knew her. Intimately, you could say. It was an on-and-off thing. They were currently on, but this was probably going to jam it in the off position rather hard, especially since she was teetering on the cut-and-run option. He and her didn't have any incredibly-deep attachments. It was good fun, sack time, that kinda' thing. Joe was willing to let that go if it helped her stay alive, and to him that meant talking her down so she didn't leave.

"I'll give you some practical bullshit, then. Rule number one is that you never deal with a dragon, but the seldom-used Rule 1-A is that if the dragon ain't giving you much of a choice, you'd better appease the dragon, or at least pretend to so escape is possible."

He was appealing more to her Shadowrunning side, to their Face, so that their Face could reason this one out in her head.

"You know megacorps, Fashion. They see something they want, they'll throw anything at it to get it. They're throwing us 'cause they've got leverage, and because they don't want whoever's there to know it was them. They'll clamp down extra-hard on this, which means extra-hard on all of us if they don't get what they want. Maybe they don't pay you any mind if it's just you leaving, but maybe they do. This storm is big business. They're breaching it and the dragon wants. If nothing else, we got some unknowns here. We'll need your experience to see who we're dealing with and figure out the right approach with the people involved. That's your sidearm, one we're not as gifted in, most of the time."

That was a bit of flattery at the end, there. She was the Face for a reason, not simply because she hated killing. She was more skilled at all the etiquitte of dealing with corporate types and stuff, whereas the rest of 'em were somewhere between marginal to 'winging it'. Even Joe's speech there was taking up a fair deal of thought process to keep the lady on the payroll, 'cause he thought she was otherwise gonna end up sadly dead somewhere. He was leaving what he thought of the plan - Not bad, he guessed - on the backburner for now as he handled this.

D-CLASS

Somewhere in the middle of his meal, hearing the rather-expected 'Do you have any idea what we're in for here?' question spoken aloud, Bastion began to chuckle. It was quite unexpected a reaction. Perhaps it was because nothing could prepare him for people to ask it, rather than think about it for a second. He really wasn't sure, exactly. The only thing he knew was that he was sure that he had figured it out himself by the time he had gotten here, maybe before. It may have had to do with the reasons for which he was incarcerated, but it just seemed so obvious to him, and that is another reason why he laughed. The only thing that marred the occasion was that the man who'd looked his way before spoke his mind before Bastion could reign it over them.

But what the hell? Do it anyway! The dark-haired man - still smiling and eyes still somewhat scrutinizing - decided to drop the bomb and see where it would take them. He abhorred ignorance, and he loathed having to explain to people the things which they should already know, but this was not a good place to be caught ounaware. It spoils the works. How do you know that you're trying your very best without some idea of what you're getting into? He explained to those fools, 'These people knew precisely what was going on. None of them were left wantiing for understanding of the situation.', but of course the District Attorney bleated out 'No, they're just left wanting for life.'. Bastard. Nevermind. Dropping info bomb in 3...2...1...

"But of course it's dangerous and unsanitary. For a promised reward, we are - naturally - to perform a task not religated to normal society, those that look on in shock or gasp 'How could you?' when something needed to be done. Well, we're all at the heart of that 'something'."

Spoken loudly enough to get the whole room's attention. They know now what he presumed to be the facts. Mischief managed.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

[QuicksaveKid]: I dunno, 'phile. Vehicular manslaughter, medicinal manslaughter, and smuggling weapons-grade uranium do not a common nutjob make.
[QuicksaveKid]: Now, quit fighting, you two.

D-CLASS

I'm already past that age. I'm feelin' fine.

D-CLASS

For the record, Donald Bastion - Dr. Bastion, thankyouverymuch - wasn't reflecting on a damn thing. He found the whole lot of them - they who judged him - to be asinine fools. They had failed to grasp the nuances of the whole situation. The bloody thing had WORKED, and there was no way to undo that fact, no matter WHAT anybody said about ethics and- Oh, nevermind...

So no, Bastion wasn't on reflection. He was keeping himself somewhat calm by way of listening to an audio reading of The Curious Case of Charles Dexter Ward. That was until the guards came, of course. A woman in the usual soldier garb told him to get out, and he replied "That's Doctor Six-Oh-One-Oh-Oh to you, missy.". Bastion didn't like being confused for the riff-raff, which is why he also complained of the color of his jumpsuit. He understood, functionally, why it was bright orange, but it hurt his eyes to look at it.

>>>>>

[QuicksaveKid]: Just a note here. Bastion does tend to gab on a bit. Even the editors had trouble with his dialogue in these files. I've run a slightly-better program through it to keep him...endurable.

>>>>>

So, the canteen, then. Bastion really hated being incarcerated anywhere, though they did seem to treat them with a slight modocum of decency in this place. The only problem was what sort of things they were going to subject them to here. Bastion had taken this willingly because he believed in the logic of it, plus the rewards seemed worthy enough. The irony would vindicate him. Good. However, he would have to admit that the people may irritate him to no end.

For instance, those people bickering on end about whether cops may lie or not while he was getting his food... He almost laughed, but his own bitter cynicism about his court case and the general aggravation towards the naive shown through. His tray came down onto a table and he sat down with it, giving those who were conversing on this topic an 'Are you serious?' look.

"Well, of course cops lie. They're human and they do not like being caught. That which 'does a bad' and does not wish to confess as such will lie. It is not merely common, but the only sensible option if they want things to go their way."

>>>>>

[QuicksaveKid]: The best and worst part about Bastion is that he's smart. Maybe it'll see him through or maybe it'll kill 'im. Only the Foundation knows for sure.

D-CLASS

D-Class

D-CLASS PERSONNEL SHEET

[NAME]: Donald Bastion

[AGE]: 31

[SEX]: Male

[REASON FOR IMPRISONMENT]: Illegal drug testing that resulted in the deaths of {REDACTED} people.

[STRENGTHS]: Highly intelligent, holding a PHD in medical sciences and physics.

[WEAKNESSES]: Cynical and arrogant, at times showing a temper and argumentative if he finds another person's views or actions lacking in some respect.

[APPEARANCE]: Subject is a dark-haired Caucasian man wearing glasses with blue eyes. He is average in physical development and the glasses are merely reading glasses, non-perscription for focusing on text for long periods of time.

[DAYS UNTIL RELEASE]: 30

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

GHMHRSO ACTIVIST

[USERNAME]: QuicksaveKid

D-CLASS

D-CLASS PERSONNEL SHEET

[NAME]: Donald Bastion

[AGE]: 31

[SEX]: Male

[REASON FOR IMPRISONMENT]: Illegal drug testing that resulted in the deaths of {REDACTED} people.

[STRENGTHS]: Highly intelligent, holding a PHD in medical sciences and physics.

[WEAKNESSES]: Cynical and arrogant, at times showing a temper and argumentative if he finds another person's views or actions lacking in some respect.

[APPEARANCE]: Subject is a dark-haired Caucasian man wearing glasses with blue eyes. He is average in physical development and the glasses are merely reading glasses, non-perscription for focusing on text for long periods of time.

[DAYS UNTIL RELEASE]: 30

---

GHMHRSO ACTIVIST

[USERNAME]: QuicksaveKid

SCP Foundation D-CLASS RP, prisoners try to survive strange experiments

@King Cosmos

There have been situations where they send those luckless prisoners of their own lives straight into danger because they're expendable. Of course, those are usually unusual circumstances. (Was watching The Flesh That Hates and The Red Sea Object on SCP Illustrated.)

@Stekkmen

I'm in.

Shadowrun Down Under: Fantasy/Sci-fi

A small smirk had formed, despite everything, at the disapproval of killing as a Plan B from Tallulah and Fashion. Frankly, his totem would've raised the proverbial eyebrow if he didn't know Joe and, in fact, how things generally go on missions.

"Not killing IS Plan A. Plan B is where you ain't been given much of choice."

A simple-but-ultimately-true fact of life in the Shadows. You can plan your daring escapade, use your stun grenades and gel rounds, close off enemes from you with a hacked door or a magic barrier - whatever pleases you. At some point, though, things can and will go south, and when they do, you have to rapidly work to avoid being blown to slag while under the heading 'by whatever means necessary' or you don't get home. This was said before Voice decided to voice their reasons for taking this mission. Joe was...slightly irritated that they were kind of stepping over his 'before you tell us' bit, but the reasons behind it all would come out eventually. So, for now, he waited for it. When she started talking about her aura and how Joe seemed to have missed a beat somewhere, he interjected.

"Gonna be honest, I wasn't paying close attention. No aura can look like very little aura, at a glance. I've seen plenty a' Sammies back in Seattle. You see enough essence-shredders, you don't really look as hard to see if they got one or not."

His explanation was pretty understandable. Unless he had a reason or overwhelming curiosity to take a closer look, he would have continued to assume that she was just another cybered-up Shadowrunner, and that's probably what alot of folks do, to be honest. They figure that underneath all that chrome, there's a solitary glimmer in a small pool of essence that's just hidden away. The alternatiives to that line of thinking can be pretty horrifying. One was the very answer that was about to be given, and the other was cyberzombies. Good god, when news of Hatchetman hit the Matrix, that was a shock. From then on, you worried about seeing like say...a heavily-outfitted troll with way too much technology and gunfire, coming down on you like the Nemesis.

The real explanation was kind of a bigger hammer than that, to be sure.

Voice was made in a lab. Completely made from scratch. She was an artificial lifeform, not a lifeform in the traditional sense, which should account for her lack of aura. However, as the story unfolded - A caring programmer defying Saeder-Krupp, a mission gone bad, a desperate call - Joe noticed something that was just a little out of place. We'll get to that in a minute. He could...sort of understand the idea that some unstable implantation was rewriting too much of her creator's brain. They say that's a danger you can get if you're a chip-head, though of course you could never really say for sure, especially if you never knew the person before they programmed themselves to know kung fu.

Even still, what Voice was saying was that she was an AI, a totally autonomous being of digital code. Now, Joe didn't know the specifics of the famous Renraku Shutdown - Maybe Fashion did - but ALOT of people got the word about how an AI had awakened and taken over. You couldn't NOT hear about it, especially if you - like Joe - lived in Seattle. Again, he wasn't aware of what exactly went wrong or what Deus was doing besides playing god in his backyard, but Crash 2.0 followed and that was a disaster. In a way, that made alot of Joe's work at the time easier, since alot of electronic gear was out cold, but it also made things messy on the streets. Now, there were faced with an AI in a bottle, in a body, who acted very human and ALOT more humble than the other guy. So, improvements have been made, clearly. However, Saeder-Krupp intended this one as a weapon... Well, now it was time for that one thought to crop up as Joe confirmed via assensing that, yes, she had no essence. She had no essence today.

"One question. If you're part of this woman, Miki, now...and you have no essence, no aura...what'd you do with her body?"

Very simple question, really. If she merged in Miki's head and presumably walked around in her body when she made her escape, what happened to her 'mother'? She didn't chrome up her body, otherwise there would be some sign of her aura. This was a mundane object read when assensing. She wasn't in there, physically. How did she get this body and what happened to the last? He had to assume that Vanessa and Diesel were either the Shadowrunners that got her out or associated with them or somehow a part of the process that made her how she was now. Joe wanted to know how 'then' got to 'now'.

Shadowrun Down Under: Fantasy/Sci-fi

"I would say that killing everyone is a Plan B that we can all agree on."

Ah, the rough-edged voice of a man who is at-home with killing things, though to be fair it's more of an 'as-needed' kind of thing, as far as runs are concerned. You could've figured that this one was about to walk in as everyone in the building would've heard the telltale thump of a large animal jumping down from somewhere. Joe had been just down the street, taking up residence in a bar for some good times. He never dresses obviously runner for the occasion. Truth be told, the Ork's still got a potato on one of his cyberspurs. Yeah, it was that kind of day. It started off with some of the guys saying that Marie Mercurial's a 'lovely sheila', but she's 'just too metal for out tastes'. They meant her cyberware, not her music, but heavy metal entered discussion too, then BSing about cyberware, and finally a game to see how well Joe and another guy with spurs could snatch things out of the air with them. Didn't do too bad. Won a few penny-anty bets.

He came back when the call came out from Vanessa, of course, interrupting the game as he knabbed the potato, mid-flight. Came back here and got himself greeted by the safe house's 'guard dog'. Sometimes the source of concern or even a bit of ire, Vasquez was sometimes considered more dangerous than Joe. For while the everyday Slayer had decent weapons and magic talent, Vas was a beast, literally. Public Enemy #2 in Germany and other parts of Europe - Guess who #1 is. - this Fenrir Wolf was something to be wary of even whilst IN the kindly influence of the Ork's handle on her. Even so, she wouldn't be the only issue the team would have to somewhat mellow out about. She took Joe's commands and she hadn't ripped anyone apart who didn't deserve it. The big wolf followed Joe now, trying to enter the room, but getting shoved back to allow other people room to get in, because by the look of things...they had problems. He overheard the talking as soon as he walked in.

"So...the Krupp, huh? Shit."

Joe didn't generally give a harsh reaction to bad news. The emphasis on the one cuss-word indicated that this bothered him, though.

"Always knew I'd end up pissing off a dragon, some day."

We've all heard the rumors. We've all heard that Saeder-Krupp plays the shell game with companies, and that runners have a one-in-three chance of hitting one of their dummy corps, either as a trap to test their facility security, or because they were unlucky enough to spit on a place they valued enough to come after you for, and what they did to you then was unpleasant, at the least. There's no end of speculation on the plans-within-plans that Lofwyr concocts in his spare time. There's rumors abound about ALL the Great Dragons, and even the regular ones. Lofwyr, though... If 'shrewd' and 'dangerous' had an avatar, it was that creature. He had some dirt on them, more specifically on Vanessa and her closest friends. It actually didn't matter what the secret was. Saeder-Krupp wanted them, and they were being 'most insistent'. At this point, if you don't give the dragon what he wants, he burns your house down. Joe didn't like it, but obviously 'choice' wasn't in the agreement.

"Before you decide to tell us why they can't just frag off, what's going on in two days that we can't have the time to do it right? First casualty is usually the plan, but you still make the plan, and the best plans are the ones you've got time for. So, what's the deal?"

Shadowrun Down Under: Fantasy/Sci-fi

@LunarisDaFox Done and done.