Terminal

Exigent Circumstances - A Cyberpunk Conspiracy

In this world, few things are certain - other than someone’s getting rich, but it sure isn’t you. Your characters, at least at the start, will be members of the “lower class” - people living hand to mouth, or with only the tiniest cushion for when the contract runs out or you manage to damage an artificial eye so badly you need to have it repaired. You may have been working in a field, using enhanced endurance to help repair irrigation systems. You might be a hacker, using the computer wired into your brain to attack the gleaming corporate citadels, stealing information, damaging equipment, or doing whatever you’ve been paid for. You might even be a normal human, living in a world where those with genuinely superhuman abilities are around you every day.

@Naril

At the start of our story, your characters will all be together, having been hired by a figure who offered you enough money to buy a whole lot of no questions. The job has been to infiltrate a huge building that’s under construction for the last year in the decaying neighborhood you call home, with further instructions to come once you’re inside. . .

Your characters have snuck past the usually well-guarded fence around the site. . .

@Naril

These parameters do not appear to be compatible. Requesting refined requisite statement.

Elaboration: One thing that DE, GitS, and Neuromancer make clear is that personal augmentation is expensive both to procure and to maintain, but even Case on his worst day was still running at a level above 'destitute.' The context of this job suggests either a degree of professionalism and sophistication upon the agent party, or else the envisioned necessity for disposable, second-hand coffin stuffing.

I.E., the job it pitched in a way that suggests that our characters are equivalent to commandos, or perhaps shadow-runners - but a state of destitution as required would necessarily be understood to preclude the possession of the appropriate materiel and tools necessary for the job (beyond mere integral augmentation). Similar deficiencies in personal reputation and reliable contacts (as an extension of absent resources) could be reasonably expected to be a cause of hesitation for potential employers, making the described scenario apparently unlikely. However, it is also clear from the stated level of security that random Coghead Bums picked up off the street would not have been able to infiltrate the perimeter.

What scale of personal efficacy are we working with?

Exigent Circumstances - A Cyberpunk Conspiracy

WIP

I'm back - with a cyberpunk conspiracy interest check!

I have a firm character concept ready. All I am waiting for is the OOC to go up and a template.

I can probably have a character draft ready for you later tonight.

I'm back - with a cyberpunk conspiracy interest check!

Interested.

A Gilded Throne- The Shadow Looms (Recruiting)

Also managed to post my response and parts. Also not my best but it will do.

@GreivousKhan

Grand Duke Ormoneric is not present at the party, on account of not being able to make it to the summit. They are still in the Isles.

A Gilded Throne- The Shadow Looms (Recruiting)

Posted.

Not my best work, but due to issues* I had to rewrite it after losing it. I will endeavor to take additional precautions and to produce something a bit better next time.

A Gilded Throne- The Shadow Looms (Recruiting)

The Estate of Grevis Valarien

They soon reached the top of the stairs, allowing Ralltene a moment to study the ongoing party with a discerning eye. Quickly making note of who was with who, the manner as they spoke to one elector or contender. Many might have seen a simple gathering of the empire's most powerful men or woman, but Ralltene saw it for the battlefield it was. One quite unlike the ones his eldest brother might be so familiar with. It was one he was ready for all the same.

Ralltene Valarien

Part of that battle was approaching Ralltene at that very moment. A dark skinned and wizened elder wearing a kaftan that bristled with military merits - obviously a member of the Kawachian delegation - stepped into view, his approach heralded by the loud thud of his cane hitting the ground. Or rather the actual saber the old man was using as a cane, its sheath appearing to have been modified for that express purpose. Scanning the remainder of the crowd within the portico, Ralltene only saw one other individual wearing a kaftan - a woman conversing with Dowager Queen Hiltruda. That meant Grand Duke Ormoneric of many tasteless titles had either been unable to make it, or else was running late.

"Your Grace." The old man treated Ralltene to the same manner of bow Sarapis had presented to Hiltruda, substituting his left arm in place of the right due to the need to grip the hilt of his unorthodox cane. "I am Diende Argider. My second-great-grandson Grand Duke Ormoneric was unable to attend, and as the senior member of House Chalarensis I am here acting as his representative in the capacity of Arch-Elector." He treated Ralltene with a faint smile that did not show off nearly as much of his wooden dentures as he had shown to Alliana, and he had strategically closed his left eye to hide the unnerving glass prosthesis.

"Given my extended families' displeasure with the manner in which Emperor Taramyth's administration has treated the Isles, I am pleased to inform you that House Chalarensis intends to elect you and support your candidacy for Phoenix King and Emperor of all Ethica." He paused momentarily for effect. "We believe your experience as an administrator and influence within economic circles makes you the logical choice. I will not pretend that my House is liked by anyone, but we nonetheless do good business with the many peoples of the mainland...and the Dawn in your pocket is a Crown in ours, as they say. That and, to be honest, you cannot do any worse to us than the other contenders shall, should they be elected." Diende bobbed his head pleasantly and blinked his one good, opened eye in an approximation of a knowing wink.

"If there is anything that I or my delegation can do to aid you in your bid...anything at all...I should see it done. If you will trust us. If you have no current use of me or would merely like to get away from this old man and mingle, I do have a matter of business I would be most grateful to speak of with your wife, the Duchess of Violette...if it would please her Grace, of course." Diende turned and inclined his head to Victoria.

"Tell me, did you ever spend time at the Eldva? I hear so often how enterprising Kawachian students are in their study of the sciences in particular. Truly an underrated academic powerhouse," She said with a soft and accommodating smile. In contrast to Sarapis' chilly demeanour, Hiltruda's was warm and almost kindly. There was something unruly and slightly mischievous about the twinkle in her eye, but the way that she held herself was a projection of her station, filling her corner of the room with her elaborately styled hair and not insignificant size.

Hiltruda Caernavir

"Unlike most of my extended family, I had the privilege of studying mathematics and architecture at Eldva, amongst other things." Sarapis replied coolly, setting her stein of wine on a nearby table and reaching into her kaftan as she spoke. "Bear in mind that my House consists of thirty six separate families. Only the most prominent regularly send their kin to the university. If there should seem to be many of House Chalarensis there, it is likely merely because there are more amongst our number relative to Houses with less...diverse lineages."

Sarapis then withdrew a tied bundle of herbal sprigs from her kaftan, the small stems topped with pale-blue flowers. Sarapis took one of them and proceeded to grind it into a mushy powder between the palm of one hand and the heel of the other before dumping it into her wine.

"As for the matter at hand...as governor of Acantha, I am responsible for the largest gas harvesting industry in the Grand Duchy, as well as in all of Ethica. However, products such as isolated Helium, Brimstone, and Vitriol Humors make up only a small percentage of what we acquire. More than nine parts in ten of all the substances and gasses we harvest, we release into the air or else drain into the ocean. Every day, my surveyors and laborers discover new substances found nowhere else in all of Ethica...but we have little in the way of alchemical knowledge. I have decided that an expert, potentially several, in alchemy need to come to the isles in order to establish a study of the various volcanic materials we handle - that we might discern their uses and exploit them." She took a long sip from her stein, allowing Hiltruda to take everything in.

"Should those same experts then eventually return to the mainland and begin teaching nobles from other houses of their discoveries, and if the new substances harvested thusly have some use of some demand, and if there exists a market for such substances - quite a profit stands to be made. House Chalarensis is prepared to share its wealth and knowledge in this instance. We have little to fear of such an arrangement, as we would necessarily control all supply. We would require the cooperation of the university, the Conclave, and the Convocation of Farlook Post. If you can promise your assistance through use of your influence in this matter, I can assure you of a generous and mutually profitable arrangement between our lands for some time. The odds are favorable, in my opinion. Though the substances we waste are often highly toxic or else too esoteric to study through conventional means, I am oft presented with reports of humors and liquids of remarkable properties that we know too little about to appropriately handle or isolate."

Sarapis then turned to glance briefly at Ralltene and Victoria as they entered the portico. "...Although it be none of my concern, as I am no elector, I feel compelled to say that the choice of next Phoenix King...or queen...might affect any particular arrangement we might come to. Emperor Taramyth's administration was responsible for many tariffs and customs levied expressly against my House. Should the next ruler of Ethica not possess the appropriate experience, returns are expected to be marginal after consideration of the inherent use and value of any substances we manage to isolate...understanding that such an arrangement is necessarily long term."

Lalrial's Northern Gate

The guardsman that Mottay Vagost was currently looming over and leering at was standing with his arms crossed and a shit-eating grin on his face. As an imperial garrison trooper, he was always treading on eggshells going out of his way to avoid offending noble travelers, with them always insisting on being called any number of ridiculous things - all the time, both by address and in response. However, the ruling House of Kawachia barely even pretended to be true nobility most of the time, and the guardsman intended to milk that - and his orders - for all they were worth in order to stick it to the overbearing pig of a man. By calling him sir.

"Sir," He said emphatically. "I have received a note from the port authority telling me to not permit your passage through this here gate. I have a second note from the Royal Guard saying that they have already acknowledged receipt of every member of the Kawachian summit delegation, and sir was not included amongst them. An I also do not like the way you are lookin' at me, sir. So you are not to pass through the this here gate."

Though Mottay was both taller and wider than the guardsman, not to mention the fact that he had an actual flanged mace strapped to the stump of his right arm, the guard was not worried. He had the entire garrison for the North Gate backing him up - many of them were already watching the scene develop tensely. The guardsman almost hoped this Vagost fellow would start something so that he had an excuse to throw the dark-skinned brute into some dank pit - something he could laugh at over a drink with some of his friends and a wench at the nearby tavern later that evening.

Mottay was dark-skinned like most other Kawachians, but his face had nonetheless visibly turned a ruddy shade, and his was the expression of a man about to commit massive parallel murder. "I am heading there on official business between House Chalarensis and House Cragmore! I have documentation to that effect here, and I intend to set out and enforce its terms you pissant landlubber!"

The guardsman looked on with some bemusement at the 'document' Mottay was waving around in his one hand. It was a piece of burlap, likely torn from an actual sack, and looked to have been written on using charcoal. Even he could tell that there was no way the thing was legally binding...but then again, nobles - even minor, nobles-in-name-only nobles - had thrown bigger fits over even less in the past and still gotten away with it. Still, there was no way he was about to humor the giant Southerner.

"Which children's game was this you supposedly won again, sir? The one where you throw eggs at the wall? I bet ya did it nice and proper alright.' The guardsman maintained an effortless grin even as Mottay's nostrils flared and the muscles of his right shoulder began to visibly tense up. "Anyway, if you really have business with the goat fu-ahhhhouse Cragmore, you can stand to wait a few days in the city for them to show up for the summit and tournament later and deal with them then."

"Tournament?" Mottay's voice was dangerously low and quiet, although the gleam in his eyes had shifted - his was now looking past the guardsman rather than at him.

"Yeah, I guess all the other houses wanted a chance to show each other up so long as they were all in one place. I guess yours just was not special enough to get that notice, eh?"

Mottay had already turned around and was walking away, his thoughts elsewhere. Shaking his head slightly, the guardsmen went to report the confrontation to his captain - and ensure the rest of the garrison knew not to let Mottay or any of his thugs through.

Solace/S:ARG

I remember this.

Been a while.

Guildfall: The Final Frontier

@Terminal
Location: Roleplaying Discussion, Guild City Limits
Activity: Holding Back the Tide

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---

Guild City was one of many islands within the vast cosmological structure known as The Web. In the beginning, the First City had been built as a sequestered extension of another, larger ontological mass. After the First Guildfall, when the whole of the First City had been dissolved and remanded to oblivion, Mahz had then endeavored to create a new City - one beholden to no other, and which could stand for itself. Rather than attaching the New City to any other entity, he instead used three Astral Anchors as the foundry for his great work.

Beyond the boundaries of the city, where reality bled into empty zero-void, perceptual constructs such as direction and space lost meaning. There were three anchors, and Guild City was built upon them, but at no actual point did the anchors or the City physically connect, and the anchors did not occupy any particular area - yet simultaneously all existed in the same place. The curious nature of the anchors made it possible not only for Guild City to hang, freely suspended and independent in the void, but also for traffic to come and go from the city. People came and went from other islands in The Web, some merely visitors, others looking for a new home.

As the City had grown though, it had garnered attention from other powers - foreign and alien, with perhaps comprehensible agendas but incomprehensible methodology. Two in particular, the powers responsible for the invasion of robotic drones, were entities of temptation. One offered material goods and steadings while the other offered immense wealth at the hands of Chance's whimsy. Both entities desired to tempt the populace of Guild City. What they decided to do to further that end was to send autonomous golems to the City, to make all the people there aware of their greatness while degrading the environment in order to encourage emigration.

Their servants, better at doing one of these things than the other, entered Guild City by way of the Spam Sector. Having been pushed from there, and since the placement of the anchor they used to enter was fuzzy in any case, they now were using the Roleplaying Discussion Sector to enter Guild City.

Within one of the Sector Hubs, a massive, mechanical terror began to materialize. A titan of reinforced triple-composite armor that bristled with artillery, weapon mounts, arcane sensors, and an inhuman intelligence. Its smallest movements sent a keening, metallic echo throughout the entire surrounding area. Its sensors, numerous and powerful, filled the area with an electric hum as they penetrated through metal and walls to peer into various electronic systems that might be suborned.

The behemoth moved, its six legs carrying it out of the hub and into the Sector Streets. A dreadful, low tone joined the cacophony of malice as its weapons powered up -

Without any fuss, it then vanished into thin air.

Up within the Sector's central tower around which all the hubs were built around, an entity within the top floor's panorama looked down at where the monstrous machine had just stood. The being's form was made up of a clay-like material, vaguely shaped to approximate a humanoid design and bearing no discernible features.

"You..." A clay-like digit tapped on the window pane as the thing's synthesized voice echoed from somewhere around its neck. "...are new."

Terminal added the registry data for that particular S-KBot to an already lengthy list that had been assembled within a floating, holographic screen within arm's reach. They then moved across the panorama, occasionally losing their footing and simply dragging their feet and legs across the ground like an eerie puppet as some inexorable force dragged the body across the room. Looking down at another one of the hubs, Terminal passively watched as two S-KBots materialized within another hub - one already known to them, and the other being the new one that had just been targeted with the Modkit.

Terminal simply targeted the first one to cross the hub boundary, temporarily banishing the construct back into zero-void without any notable flair or fanfair. No sense in discriminating and letting the enemy employ stalling tactics that would add precious minutes to the Modkit's cooldown period. The second S-KBot, unperturbed, moved between the buildings within the Sector proper and out of Terminal's immediate line of sight. The moderator could still see the machine through surveillance, but a jamming suite was preventing acquisition of the Registry Data the war machine had used to gain entry to Guild City. Now it was loose, and Terminal could not afford to keep an eye on it when there were already eight more already causing mayhem elsewhere. Somebody else would have to report its coordinate location and registry data later.

Terminal spent the next few minutes scanning through surveillance feeds on the holo-screen. Turning to the West, it then targeted an incoming artillery shell, the munition seeming to phase directly through the tower as it vanished just before impact. Below the tower in one of the hubs, five squadrons of N-KBots materialized and scattered into the Sector while the Modkit was still recharging.

"...Pissants!" Terminal hissed. Despite the massed destruction the S-KBots were capable of, it was the N-KBots which were causing it the most trouble - they kept suborning or else destroying security systems, including the surveillance feeds Terminal was using to keep track of the biggest threats and to spot and neutralize incoming artillery. Soon, the tower was going to be hit by a shell they had not seen coming. Things would then become decidedly unpleasant.

Looking out from the tower to the East, Terminal targetted a sub-sector they suspected one of the S-KBots might be in and neutralized all of it. In a single uninteresting instant, every building, survivor, and bot in that subsector vanished, leaving a plain of canalized terrain, marked with the occasional spire of concrete denoting the presence of networked City Systems. The buildings could be rebuilt, and the survivors were all being shunted through zero-void into the hub of secured, safer Sectors. Unfortunately, the S-KBot had not been there - but at least the surveillance feeds had been reclaimed.

Terminal's thoughts were interrupted by the holographic screen chiming, indicating an incoming call - from a phone in the Casual Interest Check Sector.

"So heeeey, this is uh... Jay Kane. I'm currently fighting against those bots at the border of General and Casual Interest check. Is there anything in particular you'd recommend us doing? Like how do we use that modkit? I think they're getting ready to fire at u-"

Just as he said that, Lucius could hear the Kbot L right above him fire off a huge shot, followed by an equally huge explosion. He couldn't see where it hit, but he could certainly feel it.

"They're shooting at us now. Help?"

@Lucius Cypher

Terminal switched one of the surveillance panels opened on the screen to show an overview of the bridge from one of the strut cameras. Sure enough, there was a group of N-KBots clustered around one of the three L-KBots that they had gone out of their way to announce. Like nearly every other KBot in the city, a jamming suite obscured its registry data, preventing use of the Modkit.

"You must provide me with the registry data the L-KBot used to enter Guild City. These are autonomous robotic platforms, and so are required to have their registry stamped clearly on their chassis in order to pass through one of the anchors. Get close enough to find it, and then call back. It has likely been placed somewhere on the chassis that is difficult to get a good look at from most angles, but it will be instantly recognizable. The typeface is a highly distinctive, glowing, golden coloration."

Terminal disconnected the call then. Either this 'Jay Kane' would get it done, or else would shortly be killed, and either way there were other things to worry about-

The panorama exploded as an artillery shell smashed into the top floor and detonated, the rooftop disintegrating into a plume of ashes and dust as the walls of the lower floors collapsed. Shards of glass and hunks of shredded steel rained down onto the streets below, and the entire Sector was filled with the groaning noise of twisting metal as the whole tower swayed slightly from the strain.

Now located four floors below where they had been previously, Terminal's claylike body rose, shifting a collapsed steel beam and two overlapping sections of drywall from their body in the process. With an errant wave, the smoke and dust obscuring the air around the tower dissipated. They approached the lip of the tower, stepping over ruined debris, and peered down at the city in the direction the shell had come from. One of the S-KBots peered back, steaming air still coiling from the barrel of its artillery cannon.

"Nice try." Terminal's synthesized voice hissed. In the next moment, the S-KBot vanished. Conjuring the floating holographic screen once more, Terminal paused as they saw the additional L-KBots that must have entered the Sector when the shell had hit.

"Pissants." Terminal said, their synthesized voice utterly deadpan in tone.

A Gilded Throne- The Shadow Looms (Recruiting)

In that case, I am moving forward and posting myself. Expect it early sometime tomorrow, hopefully before Khan posts.