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  • File : 1266905272.jpg-(461 KB, 796x1024, shadowman.jpg)
    461 KB MercQuest MarathonMan !!KXY0i5Og9kN 02/23/10(Tue)01:07 No.8235493  

    Alright, Quest reactivated.
    For those just joining:
    You are a mercenary SysOps.
    You went and saw Freya. Got frisky, racial tensions started a barfight. You GTFO'ed.
    Here we go.
    You hunger becomes a cold lump that drops when you see what's become of Ol' Short Mort. You recognize his balding head, attached to the bullet-riddled body slumped over the counter. The entire deli is shot to hell, with two cruisers parked out front, lights still flashing around. The front of the place is strapped over with yellow crimescene tape, and you see a uniformed officer interviewing a blood-smattered young woman. Your best guess (and judging from the resemblance, the apron...) is, that's Mort's niece. She's shivering, wrapped in a towel. This shithole of a city didn't even send out an ambulance.

    You sit in your truck, dumbfounded. The closest person you had to a father, shot dead. Anger takes hold of you, and you dial Sergei.

    "Get down here, ASAP," you growl.
    "What? Why w-"
    "Sergei, I haven't asked you for *jack-fucking-shit* up to now, and now I'm calling in a fucking favor. Your ass down here, NOW. Bring the biggest fucking guns you can."

    Having hung up without even bothering to say goodbye, you know Sergei's packing every ounce of Semtex he can, and strapping in for the worst. This is unlike you and he knows it. The emotional turbulence subsides, and you steel yourself, wondering what to do next.
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)01:12 No.8235598
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)01:18 No.8235700
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)01:22 No.8235784
    Find big guns, investigate, and go out looking for some revenge.
    >> MarathonMan !!KXY0i5Og9kN 02/23/10(Tue)01:25 No.8235841
    [Shameless self-bump?]
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)01:32 No.8235960
    Make calls to more old friends, if we have any.
    What's our inventory? Armament? Skills?
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)01:39 No.8236084
    Punch everything.
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)01:44 No.8236152
    Get a set of coordinates. Can we air-drop shit? Can we air-drop our partner? Do we have have any big guns?
    >> MarathonMan !!KXY0i5Og9kN 02/23/10(Tue)02:00 No.8236428
    You'd need to go see Hugo to get any guns bigger than the .45 sidearm on your hip or the 9mm SMG in your hovertruck. Investigation is an option. Revenge you are already bent on.


    You have few old friends to call on, save for an arms dealer (who you could go to directly at a more opportune time), and a trucker. The trucker may or may not have some services of value to you. As for inventory, it has not changed since the last thread: a .45 ACP sidearm, cellcomm, eyepice/headset, and some cash. (55 creds, plus account access key). You are wearing jeans, boots, and t-shirt.

    You can get coordinates on the fly by calculating distance and angle from the city center via your cellcomm. You already have the coordinates for the deli, Freya's, and the old academy annex. You can air-drop things, if for a price. It is wellm within your budget, but it would be frugal to reserve such services for direct combat insertion or emergencies.


    As yu go over your options, you hear a fresh bout of wailing from Mort's niece, and you can see the cop is doing his best to comfort her, but really has no idea what to do. Your mouth is dry and the choked sobs only drive home that Mort is dead. You don't even know her name, but still you feel you owe her something. Something for her uncle who cared for her deeply. She's a pretty young woman in her early twenties, maybe even late teens. A tad young if you plan to make a move on her. She has long auburn hair that falls straight to frame her tear-stained face, and even in anguish, she is hauntingly attractive. Her white apron is smattered with bright red, slowly congealing to the dark reddish-brown you are more than familiar with. Her knees shake, even as she leans on the big cops chest and soaks his shirt in tears.
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)02:20 No.8236741
    bamp, thread ees dying
    >> MarathonMan !!KXY0i5Og9kN 02/23/10(Tue)02:28 No.8236847
    [Anon, you may want to save your game- I only pick up from the last archived thread. Otherwise, carry on! :P ]
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)02:29 No.8236860
    Go comfort the poor girl, then. She might know a little more about what happened. No flirting though, wrong time and place, and anyway Freya's available for that kinda stuff once things cool down at the bar.
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)02:55 No.8237269
    You take a breath and step down out of your hovertruck, going over to the scene. The cop's hand goes straight to his hip as you approach, but it soon becomes clear you have no hostile intent.

    "Who are you?"

    "And old friend."

    "Miss?" he looks at the girl, who nods.

    You show him your mercenary ID and he nods, zapping over the CSU report to your cellcomm. Immediately he radios in and continues about his work, pausing only to sip his lukewarm coffee. Mort's niece is shivering even in the warm night air. A short gesture and she practically lunges over to wrap her arms around your waist. Fresh tears well in her eyes, and you return the hug.

    "Hey now, you're safe, you're safe... " you offer, in the soft coo that eases most peoples' nerves. "Are you hurt? What's your name?"

    She sniffles and looks up at you, saying, "K-Kelly. M-my name it Kelly. I miss Uncle M-Moo-hooo-hoooort!"

    She clings tighter and launches into a fresh bout of sobbing, wailing this time only muffled by your chest. You stroke her hair softly and gently shush her as best you can for the next ten minutes, trying just to ease the pain of loss. You feel it as well, but hardened hearts have a different way of operating. Around you, you can see the holes left in the plexiglass, made by a common submachinegun round. Most likely a drive-by. Sighing softly, you give her a squeeze one more time and she looks up at you.

    "Uncle Mort said you'd be here soon..." she manages, sniffling again. "...he said you could help."
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)03:04 No.8237400

    Holy shit. A drive-by! Goddamnit. Look into local gangs. Do we have any local contacts other than Inferni musclechick?
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)03:06 No.8237437

    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)03:11 No.8237489
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    We need to do this to whoever hurt this little girl...
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)03:11 No.8237498
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    >> MarathonMan !!KXY0i5Og9kN 02/23/10(Tue)03:19 No.8237574
    Yes, a drive-by. Particularly strange since there are no significant local gangs- or at least none with enough funds to buy both a car and a gun. You get a textcomm from Freya: "All clear." You blink your way through the interface in your eyepiece and see if your old mentor- Commissioner Murphy- is still around. A quick search reveals he survived six shootouts and died of lung cancer. Damn. Taking a deep breath, your pry Kelly from your chest.

    "C'mon, let's get going. I'm going to find out who did this."

    You help her in, and get in yourself. The hovertruck rumbles to life and you head back to Freya's place. All of your contacts are dead or out of town, and you need a base of operations if you are going to track them down. Sergei has the OpsAPC, so the bar is as good a place as any to martial your resources. Hugo, Joey, and Mack are at the top of the list, and Freya's got some informants. You thumb the controls on your cellcomm, one-hand the wheel around the corner, and exceed the speed limit by out twenty miles per hour. Your cellcomm links with your netbook in the back of the truck. The backpack of electronics is no ops center, but it'll do. Nearly tipping, you whip in to a parking space and sigh.

    Currently, the plan is to leave Kelly at Freya's apartment and then talk to the inferni herself about some old friends. After gathering intel, it would be wise to fill in Sergei on the matter, but you're getting ahead of yourself. Kelly is a little frightened at your driving.
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)03:24 No.8237637
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    ok, before other decisions are made, what can you tell me about inferni. I want factual and rumor if you've though up both. Also, public opinion would be nice.
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)03:26 No.8237651

    i wanna see where this goes
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)03:27 No.8237658
         File1266913636.gif-(447 KB, 960x540, readin'.gif)
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    >> MarathonMan !!KXY0i5Og9kN 02/23/10(Tue)03:31 No.8237695
    Functionally, inferni are little different from humans- perhaps with a greater propensity for bodybuilding and somewhat hardened chitin, but roughly the same.

    Culturally, they suffer some racism. Think of a watered down Jim Crow situation. Interracial couples are frowned at, bigots (e.g. KKK) treat them like the Aryan Nation treats blacks, and the South is still pretty racist.

    Freya gets away with a lot simply because she can kick ass, and is an ex-cop.

    [Beyond that, I'd have to write up mythos anew.]
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)03:31 No.8237700
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    We're helping this kid....

    pic related
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)03:32 No.8237715

    The perfect guardian for our de facto niece...
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)03:36 No.8237760
    I just realized how creepy quest-threads are. A bunch of often conflicting voices inside the head of the main character telling him what to do.
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)03:41 No.8237804
    Get back to Freya's. Ask if she can help with kid. If not do we have any alternatives?
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)03:43 No.8237820

    Oh and apologize to Sergei for flipping the fuck out and explain. Also see to it that we don't catch any more heat like earlier at the pub.
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)03:52 No.8237895
    >> MarathonMan !!KXY0i5Og9kN 02/23/10(Tue)03:56 No.8237924
    You coax Kelly out of the truck and get her into the bar, making a mental note to apologize to Sergei. He's a nice guy. Once in the bar, she wrinkles her nose, but the blood-stained apron keeps the less ethical patrons from approaching. Freya is leaning back on the bar, watching the Bombingrun game on the battered little TV on the wall. Her ear tweaks a little as she hears you come in, and the pipe hangs in her teeth while accompanied by a smile.

    "Who's the kid?"

    "Short Mort's niece. Needs a place to stay."

    "Shit... you know how that's gonna cramp my style. What, get kicked out?"

    "Mort's dead."

    She jumps to her feet, fire in her eyes. "What?!" she manages through clenched teeth.

    "Somebody shot Short Mort. Drive-by earlier tonight. I need to put Kelly here up for a night somewhere."

    You see Freya scan the bar. "Well shit. You know how the guys around here are... Go to the Angry Pussy- Ursa's girls oughta keep'er safe."

    "A bordello? C'mon-"

    "Hey, I got brawls in here. You know what the Chief would say."

    "Yeah yeah, never put a VIP in a safehouse that ain't safe. Well ya gonna help?"

    "Shit in a handbag, Sam. Fine. I'll get you some cellcomm IDs of some people I know. If yer really strapped, I can have ol' Dursk take her there."

    You look over at the barkeep. He's a tall black man with an athletic physique, a black shirt, and eyeliner. That and the earring make it clear he's not about to do anything uncouth to the kid.

    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)04:00 No.8237966

    Whores or gay barkeep......

    Whores it is...
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)04:03 No.8237994
    Barkeep sounds like a good bet to me. I assume leaving her with him would mean Freya would be nearbyish?
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)04:05 No.8238015
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    We're off to see the hookers.
    The wonderful hookers of [insert city here]!
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)04:08 No.8238051
         File1266916137.png-(48 KB, 524x1200, 'moralfag'.png)
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    Make sure to tell kid we're coming back. Don't know where from..... can't make up mind...

    Also, ask her if she saw anything that could help us.
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)04:17 No.8238132
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)04:23 No.8238175
    Take her to the bordello. Do we have any tiny spy cameras or GPS tracking devices she can carry with her just in case someone at the bordello tries to sell her off or something?
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)04:24 No.8238186
    Also OP this is good writing. Keep it up
    >> MarathonMan !!KXY0i5Og9kN 02/23/10(Tue)04:28 No.8238221
    A lot of options present themselves, and you give yourself a headache rehashing them. Armed whores, gay barkeep, armed whores, gay barkeep. You put a hand on Dursk's shoulder and tell him you need him to take Kelly to Ursa's place. He nods curtly, and looks at the girl with something like sympathy. You blink through the police report and skim to see if she saw anything. As luck would have it: no. You mutter a curse that would make a sailor blush, but step out to the truck to grab your netbook and that SMG. You hand the bartender the gun and the keys, and wish him luck. You hug Kelly one more time and tell her you'll come for her when you can. She doesn't know it, but you've bugged her, just to be sure.

    Freya gives you a look of disapproval.


    "Giving Dursk a gun is like givin' him a vagina. Wouldn't know how to use it even if he had one."

    You roll your eyes. "Right."

    "Here," she tels you, handing you her keys. "Go upstairs to my place and link in there. Here're the contacts." She hands you a napkin with four sets of digits on it. "I'll handle Hugo. This shit is personal, Sam. Fuckin' personal."

    You adjust your headset and begin to dial Sergei, pausing as you head for the stairs. On the napkin are Joey, Mack, Sgt. Matthews, and Brass. Do you want to call him first, or dive into the contacts?
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)04:34 No.8238273

    call Sergei and make sure he knows what exactly is going down.
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)04:38 No.8238316
    remind us who Hugo, Joey, and Mack are and what they do?
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)04:40 No.8238338
    Also ponder about getting a ballistics report by asking/hacking into the PD database, or if the shithole of a town didn't even send out an ambulance let alone a detective, consider stealing a couple of the casings and getting them analyzed.
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)04:51 No.8238439
    Sergei first. What are the specialties of each contact?
    >> MarathonMan !!KXY0i5Og9kN 02/23/10(Tue)05:02 No.8238523
    You finish dialing Sergei.



    "Hey, it's me. I gotta brief you on what's goin' down."

    "That /is/ in your job description."

    "Ha. Ha. Right. Sergei, Mort's dead."

    "The old Jewish man you talk about all the time? With the pickles?"

    "...right. Him. Well he's been shot. Murdered, Sergei. Looks like a drive-by. Listen, I need you to bring the APC, the blowtorch, and as much ammunition as you can air-drop into the city. We're on the warpath."

    "...I have much to do. I will send you a t-comm within the hour."

    "Me too, comrade."

    "Ha." Click.

    You know your partner. He's hard at work already, both quickly and efficiently. He's a real professional and that's why you two are friends as well as co-workers. He's also packing a particularly nasty set of tools, including the blowtorch.

    >> MarathonMan !!KXY0i5Og9kN 02/23/10(Tue)05:03 No.8238526
    Listed in last thread, but in general: old friends from the HPD Academy. All former cops or marshalls. Now working various jobs.

    You open the CSU files attached and sync with the PD database. Your SysOps clearance gets you access to the full monty with regards to this case. There was only one casing found. This is worth noting because punks tended to just unload and let the brass fly. Professional hits usually left behind little or no evidence. The slugs in the wall yielded no valuable information. What can be determined is that the vehicle pulled up and stopped in front of the deli before opening up. There are a total of 118 bullets accounted for in the deli, 19 of which are in Mort. The brass has no fingerprints on it, but there are traces of soil on the rebated rim. Analysis incomplete, but you will be updated when it is. Furthermore, there are to tire marks. They rolled up calmly and drove away calmly. There were few witnesses, save for an old woman and a dealer who both heard the shots.

    Again, this calls your attention- collected brass, no rubber left behind, no thumping music. Those were hallmarks of a gang hit, and their absence the mark of a trained killer. What did Mort have that was worth killing for? Who wanted it? Why didn't he call you when you got into town? Your head throbs a little but you are not deterred.
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)05:08 No.8238566
    Contact Joey first (The bounty hunter). This sounds like a professional hit and he might know if it matchs a fellow hunter's style, or just if he has heard anything. Hell just having an extra gunman will be useful.
    >> MarathonMan !!KXY0i5Og9kN 02/23/10(Tue)05:09 No.8238569
    [Alright, anon, I need to get some sleep. Same time tomorrow or later in the week? Also, archived or not archived?]
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)05:12 No.8238593
    Wait what?

    So he drove up calmly, casually sprayed the place with 118 bullets and drove off under the speed limit whistling Dixie?

    A professional would double tap the target. Something doesn't make sense.
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)05:12 No.8238595

    See if we can do some digging around Mort's place. Barring that, attempt to find video of the event, nearby traffic camera, shop security camera (maybe not mort's but a nearby store).
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)05:13 No.8238610
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)05:14 No.8238613
    Also, start this 6 hours earlier OP :)
    >> MarathonMan !!KXY0i5Og9kN 02/23/10(Tue)05:17 No.8238647
    Damn right. :D

    Feb. 23. 11PM. See you there!
    >> Anonymous 02/23/10(Tue)05:18 No.8238654
    It has now been archived, your free to sleep

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