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/tg/ - Traditional Games


You are a motorcycle courier, and you live in a strange time. Technology has outrun itself. Data transmission is too advanced to be secure. It's anybody's guess how data is routed through the sprawling system, or how much of it any hub saves. Wireless is even worse - any message could be, and probably is, intercepted by any with an antenna, and decrypted by anyone with enough time. Speeding messengers with bags on their backs are the best option in an age where digital information's only security is obscurity. You are the cutting edge, in a world where that means taking approaches that would have been barbarically low-tech fifty years ago.

After the day you've had, there's a lot of appeal in an invitation to a relaxing dinner. Skulking through subways and fleeing through the city on your motorcycle builds up quite an appetite.

Of course, you think, weaving through the sea of taillights, there's no guarantee it will be as relaxing and have as few strings attached as the 'Red Queen' assured you.

But maybe she does just want to talk about things over a friendly meal. Maybe there wasn't anything couched in her desire for your 'company' tonight.

Why would someone give you a phone and a shiny new riding suit, before throwing you out of the metaphorical plane?

That thought gives you some comfort as the building get taller, with more shining glass and less concrete. This is the nicer side of Juptek Sector, closer to the megacorp's headquarters. Some of these buildings probably belong to the corp itself, and others provide housing to its elite employees.

You pull a sweeping turn across perfect pavement, heading for the barred entrance of one building's parking garage. Plants stand in three-foot pots on each side of the front door.

[AUTHORIZED] flashes in the corner of your display as the bars start to lift, anticipating your approach. Seems your phone's set up as an access key for this place, at least temporarily.
>>
>>37412698
Damnit right as I'm heading to bed this starts.
>>
>>37412698

It's a nice place to have access to. Colored tiles outline traffic directions inside the garage. Anywhere else, it'd be surly yellow paint. The concrete's smooth, and your tires grip it appreciatively as you search for somewhere to park your bike.

Eventually, you find a rectangle labeled "bikes only" in a mosaic of jaunty yellow tiles, complete with steel bars to chain your ride to. It's only a few steps from an elevator, at that.

Very convenient.

The elevator is luxurious, from its stone-tiled floor, up its mirrored and inlaid walls, to its bright ceiling, a single huge light fixture. Its soft, warm glow suffuses through the space, much like the soothing music flowing from hidden speakers.

And it's good music, for once.

Lucky, that, since it's a long way to the penthouse. Plenty of time to examine the silvery scrollwork sprawling around the edges of the wall mirrors, an intricate twist of floral patterns and complicated curlicues.

Of course, there's time to examine yourself in the mirror too.

The suit and helmet have held up well so far, although you haven't put them through everything your old set shielded you from.

Yet.
>>
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>>37412719

The elevator slows to a halt, only about halfway up the building. Someone else must need a ride, you think, hand straying toward the hard lump of the SMG in your jacket, in case they need more than a ride.

The door open noiselessly, revealing a boy in a pale blue suit, pink hair pulled into a pair of thin pnoytails at the back of his neck. He's almost jumping from one foot to the other on the thick carpet of the hallway, and fairly bounds into the elevator once the doors are open wide enough to admit his thin frame.

It's obviously Phillip, the kid you picked up during that ill-fated but successful delivery. The one where you caught the nanoplague.

It's wonderful to see that him alive, and in good spirits. He looks even livelier than when you met him, and definitely has better color. And it seems he hasn't recognized you yet.

>Stay silent
>Hey, Kid
>Good to see you alive again
>Pick him up and hug him
>A step up from running messages in the alleys, isn't it?
>Write In
>>
>>37412729
>>Hey, Kid
>>Good to see you alive again
>>
>>37412729
>Hey, Kid
>Good to see you alive again
So I woke up in a mechanic shop where'd you end up?
>>
>>37412729
>Pick him up and hug him
>>
>META POST

It begins.

I'm having to start the thread this early because I can't run late tonight

>LINKS

Twitter(for quest news, not my political views): https://twitter.com/HaikuDeluge

Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Cyberpunk%20Motorcycle%20Courier%20Quest

Megacorps & Locations: http://pastebin.com/e0ZjmVJL

Questions: http://ask.fm/haikudeluge
>>
>>37412778
I can't run late either and its midnight, so thanks for the thread in advance, I'm going to go collapse now.
>>
>>37412718
I feel your pain

>>37412698
FUCK YEAH! CMCQ!

>Pick him up and hug him
>>
>>37412778
>It begins.
!!
>>
>>37412729

You step forward before he can kill his momentum, and he slides straight into your waiting arms. You stand up as you hug him, pulling his slight frame off the floor.

"Hey kid," you say a little gruffly, looking into his eyes through your helmet's tinted lens, "good to see you alive again."

"Oh," he says, his face lighting up, "it's you!"

"Yeah," you tell him, as he gives you a squeeze, "it's me. I finally woke up this morning in a mechanic's shop. Where'd you end up?"

"I was only out for a couple of days," he says, disengaging from the embrace, "woke up on a really nice couch," he tells you, leaning back against the mirrored side of the elevator, his casual ease showing off the trim cut of his suit, "got some new clothes, and I guess I work for Nicky now."

>Nicky?
>Doing what?
>That's a really nice suit
>Why are you here?
>Write In
>>
>>37412987
>Nicky?
>Doing what?
>Why are you here?
>>
>>37412987
>Doing what?
>Why are you here?
>That's a really nice suit
>>
>>37412987
>>Doing what?
>Nicky?
>That's a really nice suit
>>
>>37412987

>Nicky?
>Doing what?
>That's a really nice suit
>>
>>37412987

"Nicky?" you ask, raising eyebrows he can't see.

"Uh, miss Nikole Himi-something," he tells you, as if in the habit of being corrected on that point, "she's got scary eyebrows, but seems nice."

Nikole Himura, huh? You suspected as much when he called her 'Nicky', but it's good to get confirmation. Still, he seems a little young to bring into a merc crew.

"What do you do for her?" you ask, leaning back against your own mirrored wall as the elevator keeps climbing.

"I'm learning to be an Asset," he tells you proudly, flashing an innocent smile.

Oh hell.

Sure, you remember when you were a kid, and the nice suits, fast cars, and important missions seemed like being on top of the world. It looked like being a star athlete, except you got to see them in action with your own eyes.

And Phil seemed pretty good with your SMG - got the Gardener with it, if you remember right.

"That explains the really nice suit," you say, as the soothing music flows along in the background.

>But you're still not comfortable with it
>He's going to go far
>Seems like a good choice
>Write In
>>
>>37412987
>>Nicky?
>>Doing what?
>>New suit?
>>
>>37413190
>>But you're still not comfortable with it
>>
>>37413190
>But you're still not comfortable with it
>>
>>37413190
>Write-in
"That's dangerous work, but if you can make it you'll be well off."
>>
>>37413190
>But you're still not comfortable with it
>>
>>37413190
>>Write In
"That's dangerous work, the kind where you can either rise to the top, or have a very short life. I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with you having a life like that, I've seen many assets, been on their good and bad sides, and its not always fun and games, but if you do want to be one, promise me this: promise me you'll remember your friends, promise me you won't leave them behind or forget about them."
>>
>>37413190
"Your funeral kid. I'll stick to being a courier."
>>
>>37413190

"Thanks," he says, pulling his sleeves down self-consciously.

Then the conversation dies, as you think about what he's said.

The music ripples through the elevator as it keeps climbing, carrying its silent passengers toward the top.

You're still not comfortable with it. Of course, it's probably the fastest path out of the alleys for him, and he's got a tremendous leg up, but especially after your encounter with Thad, and some of the things you've seen over the years, you know it's not as much about what Assets do to people as what being an Asset does to people.

And you don't want to think through what being an Asset might do to him.

"That's dangerous work, kid," you finally tell him, "the kind where you can either rise to the top, or have a very short life," you say, and let the words hang in the air. It sounds like the kind of thing your mentor would have said.

What you say next doesn't.
>>
>>37413575

Definite statements about your choices after you'd made them weren't really his style, but hell, you aren't him: "I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with you having a life like that," you tell Phil, as he looks at you questioningly, "I've seen many assets, been on their good and bad sides, and its not always fun and games, but if you do want to be one," you say with a sigh, "promise me this: promise me you'll remember your friends, promise me you won't leave them behind or forget about them."

He looks across the elevator at you through narrowed eyes.

"Are you my mom or something?" he grunts at you, "who do you think I've got back there, courier?" he asks, his term for you a mocking echo of your own 'kid', "Nicky's team are the best friends I've ever have."

That takes you aback. Not quite what you'd expected out of him. But, if you think about it, you barely know the kid, even though the two of you have saved each other's lives.

"Your funeral, kid," you toss back at him, "I'll stick to being a courier."

"Because you don't have the guts to be anything more," he throws at you across the mirrored box, accusatory finger pointing at your helmet.

>Write In
>>
>>37413597
Laugh
"I already am what i want to be, that's what counts."
>>
>>37413597
smile and say something like "try not to bite more than you can chew"
>>
>>37413597
He has the asset attitude down already.
>>
>>37413597
seconding >>37413637
>>
>>37413597
"Hey, remember what it was like to take down the Gardener and get microwaved to death? I don't think assets get that kind of fun on THEIR day off."
>>
>>37413683
Nah, that's what they do on their days on.
>>
>>37413597
>Write In
"Kid, I'm a courier and you know how badly I got fucked up on that run. You were there and got the tail end of the punishment. Can you imagine going through that entire run with me? As an Asset, they will expect you to move faster, fight harder, and take even more punishment than we did and still complete the mission. Just today I pulled an asset who was three quarters dead out of a hole in the ground and brought her back to be patched up and sent out again.

This is not a life you want to underestimate. Take for from someone who used to be an asset in training.
>>
>>37413781
Doesn't that prove his point about us not being enough of a badass to try to be an asset?
>>
>>37413818
Indeed it does.

>>37413781
Man's made his choice, no point going spiel to dissuade him.
>>
>>37413781
Let's not preach at him, We've already said our piece.
>>
>>37413597

Well, he certainly has the Asset attitude down already. But you're not going to let him get to you.

"I already am what I want to be," you say with a laugh, "and that's what counts."

"I want to be something different," he tells you, looking straight into your darkened visor. His eyes are intense points, almost glowing with emotion. Nothing artificial about them.

"And I'm not afraid to go for it," he says, laying it out like a challenge as the elevator glides to a stop.

[Level P] means penthouse, right?

The music stops, and you both shoot a quick glance to the side as the doors open. Even a confrontation like this can't stifle your good survival instincts.

You see a short hallway with a picture hanging at the end, a landscape in a gilt frame. There's a series of coat pegs down one opulently painted wall, and regimented stone tile, matching the elevator's, for the first few feet. Then the rich, red carpet starts.

No welcoming comittee. Yet.

Your eyes find Phil's again, his orbs still blazing with defiance.

>You can keep this up as long as he can
>You've got places to be, and no time for a staring contest
>Preach at him (>>37413781)
>Write In
>>
>>37414015
>You can keep this up as long as he can
>>
>META POST

I've got to leave for what might be 2 hours, maybe less.

I'll announce my return on Twitter once I've written the next post.
>>
>>37414015
>Write In
Give him another hug
"Your choice, as long as your gun isn't pointed my way I'll always be there for you."
>>
>>37414015
"So, how's your sex life?"

That should break his concentration.
>>
>>37414053
Seconding
>>
>>37414015
"You've got your way, I have mine. But I'm glad we're on the same team. I hope you share war stories with me when you have some."
>>
>>37414041
>You can keep this up as long as he can
Stare at each other for what feels like hours...
>>
>>37414053
>>37414055
>>37414089
These three, all together.
>>
>>37414015
>You've got places to be, and no time for a staring contest
This
>>37414089

no hug though, not while he's being confrontational.
>>
>>37414015
> point out it's silly to have a staring contest with a helmeted opponent
>>
>>37414015
>>You've got places to be, and no time for a staring contest

Let's not be childish, we don't have anything to prove to him. A hug while he's being defiant won't go over well either.
>>37414147
also this
>>
>>37414015
this >>37414053
>>
>>37414053
Supporting
>>
>>37414147
This.

No hug.
>>
>>37414147
Supporting this one.
>>
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>>37414015

"You're not going to win a staring contest against someone in a helmet," you tell him as you step forward, leaning down. Half a second, and your arms are around him again.

He's stiff with tension, every muscle on his slight frame pulled taught. But he hasn't pushed you away yet.

"It's your choice," you say, as your reflection in the mirror stares back at you, a shiny-headed spectre over the boy's shoulder, "but as long as your gun isn't pointed my way, I'll be there for you."

"I think we're on the same team," he says, the tails of hair shaking on the back of his neck, "for now."

"I'm glad," you tell him, releasing your hold and straightening up, "I hope you tell me your war stories when you've got some."

"Sure," he says with a lopsided smile, and does that little thing where he pulls his sleeves down with a flick of his wrists again.

Then you catch something out of the corner of your eye, and whirl toward it, almost as fast as Phil does.

There's a man in a slightly antiquated butler's suit standing in the hall. Slight moustache, one eye clouded. He bows when he sees you've noticed him.

"Miss Hocking, Master Phillip," he says, in the unmistakable deep tones of the Concierge, as he nods at the two of you in turn, "I trust you had a pleasurable ride?"

You can't tell if there's a smile hovering at the edge of his lips.

>A bit long
>What are you implying?
>I'm here to see the Red Queen
>Nice doctor you sent me to
>Write In
>>
>>37416104
>Nice doctor you sent me to
>>
>>37416104
>>A bit long
>>I'm here to see the Red Queen
>>
>>37416104
>I'm here to see the Red Queen
>>
....Just fucking beautiful guys. great work with those write ins.

>>37416104
>I'm here to see the Red Queen
>Nice doctor you sent me to
>>
>>37416104

"I'm here to see the Red Queen, I think," you tell him. On closer examination, you can tell that his left eye is definitely artificial. There's a sleek, soft whiteness to it, and a faint blue glow behind that.

More likely a data display than an upgraded eye. It's probably designed to pipe digital information straight to his optic nerve.

Or just prevent him from sneaking up on people in the dark.

"I believe she's in the foyer," the concierge says, in a voice the color of dark wood, "I'll escort you there. Miss Himura is with her," he says, turning to Phil.

"Great," the kid says, as the two of you fall into step behind the manservant. The hall is furnished richly, but with restraint. The walls are painted plaster, two-tone brushwork in reddish browns bringing out the whorls and sweeps in the texture behind it. The sconce lights are soft but warm, their glow diffusing from pools of light thrown on the ceiling.

There isn't much of what you'd call 'decor'. What there is, is extremely nice, but there isn't a lot of it. A couple of paintings, well framed and hung to the most advantage.

Quality over quantity.

The foyer seems to have been created as a crossroads for two hallways. It has the same plaster walls, but your hand almost brushes a polished wooden table as you enter. There's a small basket on it, and a few framed pictures, mostly family groupings.

Your eye also catches an easy chair, with side table and lamp, in a far corner, but the main attraction is in the center.

Nikole Himura, you recognize easily. The distinctive white suit sets her apart from the the warm, ruddy environment, like a snowball brought into a firelit room. She's still got her long, black hair and those marker-drawn eyebrows, but she looks almost comfortable, for once. Phillip squeezes past the concierge to take up a standard bodyguard position behind her.
>>
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>>37416859

You don't recognize the woman she's talking to, but with hair like that, there's only one name that comes to mind.

The Red Queen.

Cool blue eyes between gently falling red hair, a vibrant, dark red, almost the color of a wine. Most of it is knotted behind her head, leaving her well-formed neck and shoulders bare, framed between the ruffles of her strapless dress and the stark line of a black choker.

There's a familiar-looking symbol on the choker - a stylized gold-winged eagle, like the wing on Reginald's suit. But she's got the whole bird on her arm in a goddamn gold tattoo.

You didn't know they even did gold tattoos. But, to be fair, you've never kept company with anyone who could have afforded one.

"Miss Hocking," the concierge intones, as your eyes take in the asymetric layering of the red queen's dress. The golden accents and silver crosses break the monotony of red, obviously the result of a dressmaker's expert eye.

"She's early," the red queen says to him, then turns toward you, "but I should have expected as much from you. You always make such good time."

>I aim to please
>Especially when I'm going for a quiet dinner
>Isn't that why you saved me?
>Write In
>>
>>37417154
>I aim to please
>>
>>37417154
>Isn't that why you saved me?
>>
>>37417154
>>I aim to please
>>Isn't that why you saved me?
>>
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>>37417154

"I aim to please," you say, "but isn't that why you saved me?"

A smirk kinks the lines of her face. You guess you're probably around the same age.

Old enough to know better, young enough to do it anyway, as you've heard it put.

"It's your first day alive in weeks," she says, and as the smirk fades, you see a flash of family resemblance between her and Reginald, "I thought you might take it slow."

"I live life at full throttle," you tell her, rifling your memory for the name your earlier client gave you, "miss Arnweald."

"Oho," she laughs, the smirk firmly back on her face, "you think at full throttle too. But you'll wake up sore tomorrow with all the stress you've had today. And please," she finishes, extending a hand in a welcoming gesture, "call me Alexis."

"You can call me Laura, then," you tell her, as you feel, more than hear, the conceirge withdraw from the room.

"If your piece is here," Nikole cuts in, smoothly, "I think it's time for us to be going."

"That reminds me," Alexis says, quirking an eyebrow at you, "what kind of piece are you?"

>Pawn [Advance forward. The dogged sidetracker.]
>Knight [Maneuver around them. The artful dodger.]
>Rook [Become unstoppable. The irresistible force.]
>Bishop [Close the distance. The fast long hauler.]
>>
>>37417558
>>Bishop [Close the distance. The fast long hauler.]
>>
>>37417558
>Knight [Maneuver around them. The artful dodger.]
>>
>>37417558
>Knight [Maneuver around them. The artful dodger.]
>>
>>37417558
>Bishop [Close the distance. The fast long hauler.]
>>
>>37417558
>Knight [Maneuver around them. The artful dodger.]

Straight lines get you shot.
>>
Is
>I'm not really one for Chess. I always found the rules too restrictive, and the board too confining.
an option?
>>
>>37417771

If you get enough votes for it.
>>
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>>37417771
>"Personally, I prefer the shoe"
>>
>>37417558
>>37417663 here, changing to
>>37417771
>>
>>37417803
Meaning Laura has shit taste in games?
>>
>>37417803
>Not the battleship.
Pleb.
>>
>>37417789
Then consider >>37417771 my vote, I suppose.
>>
>>37417803
I prefer the dog
>>
>>37417558
>>Knight [Maneuver around them. The artful dodger.]
>>
>>37417803
Not the racer? Seriously?
>>
>>37417558
>Knight [Maneuver around them. The artful dodger.]
>>
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>>37417558

"I'm not really one for chess," you say, causing Nikole's thick eyebrows to drop in what might be the beginning of a glare, "always thought the rules were too restrictive, and the board too confining," and pause, noting Alexis' barely-contained laughter, "but if I have to pick, I'd pick the knight."

"That's what I expected you to say," Nikole tells you, "but I think the rook fits you better," she says, hard blue eyes boring into yours.

That's right. You did practically run her over once.

"There's no stopping you once you get going," she finishes, and feel something like respect in her tone, "I look forward to working with you, Laura."

>Less dangerous than working against me?
>Same here
>Does that guy still hold a grudge about his hands?
>Write In
>>
>>37418059
>Same here
>Does that guy still hold a grudge about his hands?
>>
>>37418059
>Same here
>Does that guy still hold a grudge about his hands?
>>
>>37418059
>Same here
>Does that guy still hold a grudge about his hands?
>>
>>37418059
>>Same here
>>Does that guy still hold a grudge about his hands?
>>
>>37417558
Voting for >>37417771
>>
>>37418059
>>Same here
>>Does that guy still hold a grudge about his hands?
>>
>>37418059

"Same here," you say, and then, as the rest of the memories of that night underground come back, "but does that guy hold a grudge about his hands?"

"Probably," she tells you, eyes locked with yours, "but he decided he'd had enough after that. We got him some augs, and he got out of the business."

"Does that happen a lot?" you ask, as she makes a slight gesture to Phillip.

"If they make the team," she says, "then quit because of an injury, we aug them back to baseline. It's the least I can do," she finishes, an unreadable expression on her stiff face before she turns to her aide.

"Let's get going, Phil," she says, and they take their leave.

After the goodbyes are over, Alexis turns back to you. "Sorry those overlapped," she says, "I really meant for this to be just the two of us, but at least you got to see the boy again. Concierge told me you'd been asking about him."

"Yeah," you say, although you're still not sure you much good that interview in the elevator did, "glad I could see him well after that."

"Speaking of feeling well," she says, turning slightly in front of you, skirts swishing, "how's a shower sound after the day you've had?"

>I'd prefer to stay bulletproof
>A shower sounds good. Peeling off the bulletproofing doesn't sound as good.
>That sounds wonderful
>Write In
>>
>>37418659
>>That sounds wonderful
>>
>>37418659
>That sounds wonderful
>>
>>37418659
>That sounds wonderful
>Will you be joining me?
>>
>>37418659
>>That sounds wonderful
>>
>>37418659

"That sounds wonderful," you tell her fervently. And truly, it does.

You've had everything from the clinging damp of Nepcor and its storm sewers to the blood of that blonde Asset (Elanor, you think Reginald called her). And there's a faint note of stale cigar smoke from Doc hanging around somewhere.

"Then just follow me," she says, and starts walking toward one of the hallways, "the guest rooms are this way."

It takes about twenty feet before you spot the problem. "But won't I have to just change back into these?" you ask.

She turns to face you, one hand perched on a door handle, almost laughing. "Those aren't the only clothes I had made to your size. What kind of girl would have nothing but a set of cycling leathers in her wardrobe?"

Well, you didn't have much more, you admit to yourself as she admits you to the room, but you did rise above that.

"Now I've got to go get into something less formal myself," she says, hand playing over the bow on the front of her dress, "it's just that Nikole makes me feel a bit under-dressed with that suit of hers."

>Well why don't you wear a suit too?
>Will you be joining me?
>Take your time, I plan on enjoying this
>Write In
>>
>>37419206
>Take your time, I plan on enjoying this
>>
>>37419206
>Will you be joining me?

Hows your sex life?
>>
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>>37419313
This probably leads to her getting pissed at us.
>>
>>37419206
>Well why don't you wear a suit too?
>Take your time, I plan on enjoying this
>>
>>37419206
>>Take your time, I plan on enjoying this
Of course she doesn't wear a suit, she's the Red Queen and must look the part. The sacrifices that must be made to keep up appearances...
>>
>>37419408
I thought Nikole was White Queen.

Or is she the White King?
>>
>>37419349
Nah, shes playing with us. Its only IC to quip back
>>
>>37419206
>Take your time, I plan on enjoying this
>>
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>>37419206

"Take your time," you tell her with an invisible smile, "I plan on enjoying this."

"Oh good," she says, turning away, "that's the point, after all," she says over her shoulder, as she starts down the hallway.

You shut the door, hesitate for a second, then lock it anyway. If someone really needs to get in, they probably have a key.

After that, you feel comfortable taking you helmet off, shaking your hair out, and looking around the room.

It's done in the usual scheme of deep reds and browns with gold accents, lit by soft warm light. There isn't much more than a bed and a desk in the apartment's living area, but the bed looks comfortable, and the desk is real wood, with a glass topper.

You might be using the bed tonight, you think as you set your helmet on the desk and start stripping off your cycling leathers.

The bathroom is everything you would have expected from a place like this. Golden tan tiles with natural feeling, slightly roughened surfaces. Darker brown tiles accent backsplashes and form a pattern on the far wall of the shower.

The shower itself, behind a solid glass door, has a small army of showerheads arrayed in a tower.

It feels just as good as you'd think, once you step in and crank the water up. You just lose yourself in the torrent of hot water, letting it cleanse your body as the experience relaxes your mind.

You have no idea how long you take, but by the time you finish, the bathroom has more steam than a sauna. fluffy white clouds billow around you as you towel off.

Of course, the shower is just the beginning, as realize when you open the closet. Choosing an outfit is going to be an adventure in itself.

>Go formal
>Go dressy
>Go dressy casual
>Go casual
>Go filthy casual
>>
>>37420473
>Go filthy casual
>>
>>37420473
>Go dressy casual
>>
>>37420473
>Go filthy casual
>>
>>37420473
>Go dressy casual
>>
>>37420565
>>37420702
but if we do dressy causal, she won't be able to call us a Filthy Casual and have it be funny.
>>
>>37420812
Rather not look grungy though, better impression and all plus while we rarely dress up this'd be nice change of pace.
>>
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>>37420473
>>Go dressy casual
>>
>>37420473
>>Go casual
>>
>>37420473
>Go dressy casual
>>
>>37420473

She did say she was changing out of that expensive-looking red number, didn't she? That sort of axes the left side of the closet, since it would be tack to out-dress your hostess.

The truly grungy clothes, obviously meant for staying at home, are tempting, but you feel like they'd be doing your opulent surroundings a disservice.

And they're all brand new, which would feel very odd.

So you decide on dressy casual - clothes that could be dressy, maybe even business wear, with a tie left off here, a couple of buttons undone there, concessions made to comfort.

When you look at your handiwork in the mirror, it takes some effort to ignore the small, accusatory voice telling you that it looks like an Asset's attempt to wear a suit in a unique way.

But it's comfortable, and you look pretty good in the mirror.

In a casual sort of way.

There's a faint knock on the door, and you take a final look in the mirror.

No, you don't look like an asset at all.

Concierge is standing outside the door, and bows slightly to you when you open it.

"Madame has sent me to see when you'll be prepared to dine," he says, in that deep, obsequious voice of his.

"I'm quite ready now," you tell him, walking through the doorway.

"I should have guessed from your radiant appearance," he says, leading you down the hallway.

>Write In Questions For Concierge
>>
>>37421975
"So how is it, working for miss Arnweald?"
>>
>>37421975
>"So how is your sex life?"
always a great ice breaker
>"What happened to your eye?"
I really want to know
>>
>>37421975
"what happened to your eye" is pretty tempting...
>>
>>37422115
Supporting for the icebreakers.
>>
>>37422306
damn vote nesters! Do you want birds? because this is how we get birds!
>>
>>37421975

"So," you ask the manservant's back, "how is your sex life?"

His lack of reaction is disappointing, but you should have expected it from a well-trained servant. There isn't even any variation in the timing of his steps.

He probably pretended not to hear your question. The display of quiet dignity makes you feel slightly quelled, like you've made a mis-step.

"Satisfying!" suddenly comes the response, in deep tones of enjoyment, shocking in its power.

You aren't nearly as good at hiding your reaction, especially with your helmet off, but the concierge ignores you to follow up quickly "how's yours?"

>Write In

I'll get to the others eventually.
>>
>>37422597
Non-existent at the moment.
>>
>>37422597
"dying doesn't really help that kind of things"
and think about how our bike was soiled by that filthy man
>>
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>>37422597
>Stay silent
>>
>>37422697
>>37422597
This
>>
>>37422659
No anon, we've got our motorcycle that we've routinely violated

>>37422597
A bit lacking but I'll take whatever I have.

Hows working for miss Arnweald like? Can I call you Concie?
>>
>>37422597
>Shrug
"We've been too out of it to really do anything, though I'm looking forward to getting some quality time with him later tonight."
>>
>>37422597
"Lying on the cutting table doesn't count so that has to rate as deeply unsatisfying."
>>
>>37422697
yup, dying tends to get in the way of life.
seconding.
>>
>>37422770
Yeah but we died, so we're technically haven't had sex yet.
>>
>>37422811
Good point
>>
>>37422597

>>37422697
This and this>>37422697
>>
>>37422597

"Dying didn't help it, I'm afraid," you say, thinking about how the mechanic was talking about your bike before he knew you were awake. At least you made it back in time to prevent something even worse.

"I can only imagine," the servant says, a trace of humor in his voice, "never having died myself."

"Speaking of life," you toss back to him, as he turns to face you in the middle of the foyer, "how is working for miss Arnweald?"

"I was born to do this," he tells you, voice serious again, "it's interesting, occasionally demanding, and extremely fulfilling. Watching Madame grow up is the greatest reward I could ask for," he finishes, starting toward another hallway.

"Does your eye help with that?" you ask, following him into it. You're starting to smell food, and it's been a while since you ate.

"Indeed it does," comes floating back over his shoulder, "unfortunate that it had to be replaced at all - a congenital defect, you see."

>Sorry to hear that
>What kind of defect?
>What does it do for you?
>Write In
>>
>>37423005
>What kind of defect?
>What does it do for you?
>>
>>37423005
Should i even ask?
>>
>>37423005
>Sorry to hear that
>What kind of defect?
>What does it do for you?

All of dem
>>
>>37423005
>Sorry to hear that
>What does it do for you?
if he was born to do it, the defect was probably planned
>>
>>37423078
>>37423095
>asking someone we just met these horribly personal questions
>>
>>37423124
and?
>>
>>37423005
>>Sorry to hear that
>>What does it do for you?
You say you've watched her grow up... I take you've been long in her family's service?
>>
>>37423005
>>Sorry to hear that
>>What does it do for you?
>>
>>37423005
>Sorry to hear that
>What kind of defect?
>What does it do for you
>>
>>37423005

"Sorry to hear that," you say, "what, uh, kind of defect was it? If you don't mind me asking."

"Oh," he says, voice even more grave, "a terrible defect. You see," he says, "I came forth from my mother's womb without a cybernetic eye. Truly a terrible blemish," he intones in a slow, deep voice, over-enunciating each word just slightly.

Alright, you walked into that one. Although it is unsettling that he had a perfectly healthy, normal eye carved out of his face and replaced with a chunk of silicon and plastic.

"And what does it do for you?" you ask, as he stops in front of a door.

"It's a network interface," he tells you, both eyes staring into yours, "all the conveniences of a mobile computer, hooked straight into my optic nerve. My left eye can look out through any camera on this floor," he finishes, opening the door.

"Madame," he says, "Miss Hocking has arrived."
>>
i love the shit haiku posts on twitter during quests
>>
>>37423413
i like this guy. He's funny
>>
>>37423467
This one's so troll. It's obviously an Umineko joke.
>>
>>37423413
>"Oh," he says, voice even more grave, "a terrible defect. You see," he says, "I came forth from my mother's womb without a cybernetic eye. Truly a terrible blemish,"

I love you, Concierge
>>
>>37423511
But there's no witches or magic!
>>
>>37423413

You walk through the door graciously held for you by the strange servant, into what appears to be a small dining room.

There's a table, perhaps twice the size of a card table, with a soft pool of light pouring onto it from a frosted cut-glass fixture hanging from the ceiling. Instead of chairs, a single bench, polished wood upholstered in dull red leather anchored by brass studs, runs around three sides of the table. It's an intimate setting, barely bigger than a bed.

And the dark, ruddy colors make it seem even cozier.

Alexis is already perched on one arm of the bench's 'U', sinking slightly into the leather cushions. Her hair's still up, but she's wearing a more casual ensemble - a thin red sweater over a pair of loose black pants.

"So you were already dressed," she says, getting up as you walk in, hands spread in greeting, "fast, as usual. Concierge," she tells the servant, "tell the kitchen to starts serving."

"As you wish, Madame," he says, bowing himself out of the room.

"I see you made good use of the clothes," Alexis says, after running her eyes over you, "you've definitely got an eye for style."

>You really think so?
>You too
>You look stunning
>I just put together what was in the closet
>I'm afraid I look rather like an Asset
>Ho long have I kept you waiting?
>Write In
>>
>>37424054
>You really think so?
>You too
>How long have I kept you waiting?

How not ho.
>>
>>37424054
>You really think so?
>You too
>Ho long have I kept you waiting?
>>
>>37424054
>>You too
>>I'm afraid I look rather like an Asset
>>
>>37424054
>You too
>Ho long have I kept you waiting?
>>
>>37424054
>>You too
>>
>>37424054
>You really think so?
>I'm afraid I look rather like an Asset
>Ho long have I kept you waiting?
>>
>>37424054
>>I just put together what was in the closet
>>I'm afraid I look rather like an Asset
>>
>>37424054

"You too," you say, although you're not quite sure that anyone whose style revolves around using red as a unifying color has good taste, "how long have I kept you waiting?"

"I sent Concierge to check on you when I finished," she says, sitting back down, "so you've barely kept me waiting at all. The food should be here shortly," she finishes, leaning back and clasping her hands behind her head.

"Wonderful," you say, sliding into the opposite seat. The leather cushion is comfortably plump, and a little cool, "I talked to the concierge on the way here."

"He's just 'Concierge'," she tells you, smiling, "that's the name his parents stuck him with. So even though he's the head butler now, he's still Concierge. Parents, right?" she says, with another smirk.

"Yeah," you say, without much heart in it. You're still not sure who decided on your name, or why.

"I'm sorry," Alexis says, leaning forward against the table, "I didn't know."

It must have shown on your face.

>It's fine
>What, your information didn't cover that?
>Is the golden eagle a family thing?
>I've got some questions [Write In Questions]
>Write In
>>
>>37424834
>It's fine
>Is the golden eagle a family thing?
Why'd you save me?
>>
>>37424834
>>I've got some questions [Write In Questions]
"I still haven't quite managed to figure out why you fixed me. The city's hardly lacking in couriers."
>>
>>37424834
>It's fine
>Is the golden eagle a family thing?
>Why bring me back to life?
>>
>>37424834
>It's fine
>Is the golden eagle a family thing?
>why did you save me? want someone in your debt?
>>
>>37424834
>>It's fine
>Is the golden eagle a family thing?
>>
>>37424834
>>It's fine
>>Is the golden eagle a family thing?
>>Why did you patch me up?
>>
>>37424834

"It's fine," you tell her, and manage to reign in your body's traitorous 'it isn't fine' signs, "is the golden eagle a family thing?"

"Oh yes," she says, the smirk firmly back in place as one hand goes to rest on the sweater above where you saw the tattoo earlier, "the most sacred family tradition. The emblem itself isn't bad, but getting the full heir's tattoo," she says as the smile goes a bit wry, "well, that's not for the faint hearted."

"I can imagine," you say, wondering if there's more to the broad lines of gold than simple ink. Probably, if it's some kind of inheritance marker. Might be a key of some sort, or even information storage.

"I'm sure you can, Biohazard Rider," she says, the bright blue eyes dancing while she watches to see if her shot had any effect.

"Alright," you say, gripping the edge of the empty table and leaning forward, "why did you save me? The city's hardly lacking in couriers. Did you just want someone in your debt?"

In answer, she just starts laughing. "Do you know what they call you?" she asks, "no, not the dumb Biohazard Rider thing. A title you earned a long time ago: The Poor Man's Asset."

You didn't know, and it doesn't sound entirely complimentary.

"Haven't heard that one before," you say, grip tightening, but you suspect there's another joke hiding somewhere here.

"Do you know another courier who goes as far as you do, on a courier contract?"

You did, once, but Eliza went corp, so she probably doesn't count. Everyone else you've known in that line of work never seemed as committed to getting it to point B.
>>
>>37425668

"There's a reason you can get away with multiplying your prices in the middle of a mission, Laura," she says, smile smearing sideways into a smirk, "you can do it because the only step up from you for a small corp is hiring a merc squad. Because they know you'll bull through everything, using as much force as necessary. Do you know what most couriers say when they make those calls, the ones they make when they find out there's a hostile asset in play, or when point A's a hot combat zone?"

It's probably not rhetorical, but you just can't get an answer out before she rushes in with hers.

"I can't handle this," she says, a serious look on her face for once, "that's what they say. Laura, they give up because they're a courier, not a one-woman wrecking crew."

>Write In
>>
>>37425688
Laugh "Me a one woman wrecking crew? Hardly. I spend most of my time moving away from hostiles very quickly. The only exception to this are when i have to nowhere to run. I'm not tough just fast and too stubborn to lay down and die.
>>
So the reason she saved us is because we're so badass/crazy at our job that no one else in our field wants to do the "dangerous" stuff?

I wonder if the 'Poor Man's Asset' is a shot at the person who trained Laura, as it certainly sounds like he used to be an Asset in his prime.

> Write-In
"I don't ever plan on being a 'one-woman wrecking crew' when I take a job. I'm just prepared to do what is necessary to deliver the package."
>>
>>37425688
"I'm just doing what a god courier should do. They aren't."
>>
>>37425688
Look if you want a one woman wrecking ball, I might not be the best pick for that job.

I am still a courier. I deliver packages to a specified location, not take out targets. It's not that I am unable to do so, it's that I specifically chose a career getting to and from points as quickly as possible. If you want another asset you ought to consider someone else.
>>
>>37425688
Soooooo..... Your point?
>>
>META POST

I'll be AFK for half an hour or so, which is unfortunate, since my window of time to run is rapidly closing.

I'm not anticipating making it through the dinner this thread.
>>
>>37425688
>>Write In
"I can't say I'm enthused about being called a wrecking crew. I don't go out there to create collateral damage, but to get the job done."
>>
>>37425688
"I just do what I'm paid to do. Y'know, most people, when they heard I died, would have said 'what a shame'."
>>
>>37425688
While the other suggested lines are good, I'd like to steer the discussion towards Laura bluntly asking, "You're trying to maneuver me into becoming your corp's courier right?"
>>
>>37425688
>Try to argue you aren't the super Courier she says you are.
>I mean sure, there was that one time when you killed that Asset, and that one time you got in the middle of a firefight between two merc groups, and that whole fiasco that led to this conversation, but...
>Realize that you really are some sort of Indomitable Package Delivering Super-Courier.

>Politely ask for some booze.
>>
>>37426244
I like the tone of this, but >>37426056 has a point
>>
>>37425688

"So what's your point?" you ask her. Her argument isn't making much sense, "I'm just doing what a good courier should. They aren't. Are you implying I'm an Asset or something? I deliver packages to a specified location, not take out targets. I spend most of my time running away very quickly," you tell her, sweeping a hand through the air in emphasis, "unless I don't have anywhere left to run. I'm not tough - just fast and too stubborn to lay down and die."

"But that's the thing," she says, voice firm but with no edge to it, leaning back from the table, "most couriers would rather drop a job than be in danger of getting cornered. You don't care like they do. If you get cornered, you smash your way out. You try to find a way around, but if there isn't a way around, you go through."

"I can't say I'm enthused about being called a wrecking crew," you say, not sure that you're addressing her point, but it's worth a shot, "I don't go out there to create collateral damage, but to get the job done."

"Alright," she says, crossing her arms in front of her chest, "let me phrase it better. You don't do courier missions like a courier. You do courier missions like an Asset that got told they'd get a percentage of their pay docked for everyone unnecessary they killed."

>Write In
>>
>>37426963
"It pays better, what can I say?"
>>
>META POST
I'm back.

I'll get to >>37426056 and >>37426244 eventually.
>>
>>37426963
I like what >>37426056
is saying
>>
>>37426963
Alright, I act like an asset. What is your point?
>>
>>37426963
"Maybe, can't really say I've ever thought about it, but now I am I am rethinking some things. Going about my work like I have been killed me, might be time to slow down a little or be a bit more selective of certain jobs. Not so much rejecting jobs, but to use your analogy, maybe ensuring there are less civilians to get turned into collateral damage."
>>
>>37426963
I just don't find it profitable or preferable to start racking up body counts. Just because I have the skills and capability to raise hell in certain circumstances doesn't mean I have any inclination to.

I've found the rare instances where I am forced to operate like an Asset more often than not go on to bring me nothing but trouble later on.
>>
>>37426963
"Well, I do call myself a professional. Uh, but that's not to say others are unprofessional..."
>>
"Where's the profit in getting a high body count? This isn't like some net game where I get to brag to my friends that I got a new high score after a particularly bloody job." Almost all my friends are dead or hate my guts, anyway.
>>
>>37426963

"It pays better," you tell her nonchalantly, "what can I say?"

But she's hit a nerve. Eliza's the only courier who really stuck around you. The rest just sort of drifted along. Only a couple of those were dramatic, splits in duo jobs where they weren't comfortable with going the distance.

And she's making you wonder whether you've always just been an odd fish for a courier. Maybe that's why you never really fit into their community.

Maybe that's why you were alone after Eliza left.

"Alright, I act like an Asset," you finally say, through clenched teeth, "What's your point?"

"Act like one?" she asks, spreading her hands with her smile, "you even dress like one, given the option."

So she did notice, dammit. Look, you were raised by a man who would wear a white dress shirt until it turned gray and patched rather than start out with a lesser garment, if he had the choice.

These things rub off.

"But you act like a good Asset," she continues, "not one of those fools who think they can measure their dicks by their bodycount and collateral damage costs."

"You're trying to maneuver me into becoming your corp's courier, right?" you ask, then sigh as she tilts her head noncommittally, "I'm not going to ask 'why me?' again."

"Probably best," she agrees, "but I'm looking for something more personal."

>Write In
>>
>>37427659
Should we respond with a joke? I'm tempted to write in "Great, my sex life has been lacking lately"

please don't actually do this
>>
>"So hows your sex life?"
Only because I don't know what to write.
>>
>>37427659
>>37427706
Shit, so am I
>>
>>37427659
"And what are you looking for? I'm not in the habit of randomly accepting jobs without any details anymore."
>>
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>>37427706
You say not use it, but it's just too damn perfect.
>>
>>37427706
>"It had better not involve a bed."
>>
>>37427706
>>37427723
for fucks sake guys, can we not?
>>
>>37427659
Stare at her quietly, and after a length say, "Right now I'm in the process of re-evaluation certain assumptions I had about you."

And yeah I guess this would lead to joking about our sex life...
>>
>>37427784
yeah, give me something to vote for because as I said I don't know what to write.
>>
"I'm grateful for all you did to keep me alive, really, I am. I like living. But I hate being a piece on the board, scurrying about to some unknown master's hand, some unknown goal of corporate or world domination. I care about the little things, the people left behind in the battles between mercs, corps, and Assets. I won't be a part of a battle that'll end the world. If you want me to deliver the news of it's ending, that I can do."
>>
>>37427784
Please, give us something better. I mean it, I don't want my write in to win.
>>
>>37427744
bullshit, when was this decided?
>>
>>37427865
This sounds good.

>>37427838
>>37427872
are both of you blind?

>>37427873
since we died, we've been trying to be more diligent instead of just blindly charging in.
>>
>>37427865
Yes, thank you. >>37427706 here voting for this.
>>
>>37427873
Have you not been reading the quest since we woke up from death and took that clusterfuck of a job this morning?
>>
>>37427902
No, I just don't like what the others have put forth so far. also I disagree, I think accepting blindly is reallly fun and I do not wish to stop.
>>
>>37427946
>I think accepting blindly is reallly fun and I do not wish to stop.
I don't, I think its fucking retarded and we need to get our act together before we die and don't get revived because a corp doesn't think we're worth it for being that retarded twice.
>>
>>37427923
nope been reading for.... a while. 2 or 3 I think. not that that really matters. clusterfuck of a job? I'd like to think of it as a really fun ride that never ends.
>>
>>37427946
How about we ask our clients if their package has a good chance of killing us before taking the job?
>>
>>37427865
>Such defiance!
>>
>>37428027
Take your self sabotaging attitude and piss off.
>>
>>37428026
>>37428050
Where do you get your enjoyment from this quest, then?

Not knowing what's around the next corner is half of mine.
>>
>>37427865
yeah that's why we did our best to help the little people by driving around with the nanoplague right. didn't even ask what it was or why or who it would hurt, just took the job and did it. because we care so deeply about the little people
>>
>>37428037
Well, think about it. Our mentor (who we can guess was an Asset at one point) played the game, quit, and died after training us. And with all the jobs we've done the past few days there's a good chance these jobs are gearing up companies for a rather big battle.

Which will probably happen during the Big Race that's coming up.

Shit... She wants us to represent her company at the race, with some ulterior motive to be done while we try and win.
>>
>>37428026
that's cool, but not going to change how I vote. might change others though and if that happens then you get what you want which is awesome!

>>37428032
that's what hazard pay is for
>>
>>37428081
There is a difference between merely not know what is around the next corner when on a job and deliberately being as stupid and blind as possible in an effort to get us killed, and you consistently go for the latter.
I don't get enjoyment from you trying to kill us all the time because you have a bad end fetish.
>>
>>37428143
>that's what hazard pay is for
We kind of have to know what the hazard is to charge our hazard rates for it, which we can't do if we're dead because you couldn't be bothered using a single iota of intelligence before accepting a random job.
>>
>>37428050
Not sabotaging man, picking the fun options. what would this quest be if we didn't take the more dangerous jobs? lessfun/moreboring.
>>
>>37427865
>scurrying about to some unknown master's hand
>literally what we've been doing this entire time, and now we claim to hate it?
>>
>>37428194
have you been reading the quest? seriously go reread for the parts where we get job offers.
>>
>>37428204
This quest would be more fun seeing as you wouldn't get us killed and end the quest.
>>
>>37428248
I have been, if you've also been reading you'll have noticed a change in how Laura acts during and after this latest job.

>>37428204
So you're one of those faggots who deliberately picks the bad options just to laugh at everyone else when you make them suffer and kill the quest because you're retarded.
>>
>>37428282
quit being such a worry wart man

>>37428313
didn't notice anything like that, but i'll go reread it.
yes, you caught me that exactly what I've been doing. curses foiled again! seriously though nah, that not how I play.
>>
>>37428414
>quit being such a worry wart man
No.

>seriously though nah, that not how I play.
That is exactly what you've been doing regardless of however you've deluded yourself.
>>
>>37428449
I'm not him but seriously dude calm down stop your shit flinging
>>
>>37427659

You just sort of stare at her, re-evaluating certain assumptions you once had. Well, she did practically admit to dressing up for Nikole.

It must have shown on your face, because she starts laughing, and finally gets out "No, not like that! I'm looking for a personal courier, and I think you'd be perfect for the job, and fun to have around."

"I'm grateful for all you did to keep me alive," you say, "I like living."

"Most people do," Alexis says, resting her chin on the palm of one hand, elbow on the table.

"But I hate being a piece on the board," you continue, "scurrying about to some unknown master's hand, some unknown goal of corporate or world domination, I care about the little things, the people left behind in the battles between mercs, corps, and Assets. I won't be a part of a battle that'll end the world. If you want me to deliver the news of it's ending, that I can do."

She looks at you blankly, with eyebrows raised, perhaps waiting for you to add something to the end.

"So is this the prepared speech you use on all your clients?" she finally asks, and laughs, "how do you do any jobs in this city if you hate not being in the know? You're more of a piece when you're working for the small corps - they're usually pieces too, just bigger ones. I'm offering you a place high enough to actually see what's going on. And why would I end the world?" she asks, shrugging, "it's where I keep all my stuff. And all my friends live here."
>>
>>37428920

"You know the most important thing I'm offering?" she asks, "I'm offering an employer you can ask 'why?' someday. I don't trust you enough now to tell you everything, but you can earn that trust," she says, spreading her hands.

That doesn't sound too bad, actually. The usual understanding is that the courier shouldn't care about what's in the package, just where it goes.

Of course, after the Biohazard Rider incident, it's going to take you a while to get back into that groove.

"Or," Alexis says, "you can take your bike and your cycling leathers and go back to freelancing. You're not in debt, and that job today was a good injection of cash. All I'll ask for is the phone back. Maybe I'll find someone else worth giving it to, someday."

There's a discrete knock on the door, fast followed by Concierge, pushing a cart loaded with delicious-smelling food. Your mouth waters as he heaps covered dish after covered dish onto the small table.

"I don't need an answer now," Alexis says, as Concierge deposits a spotless plate in front of her, "making decisions when you're hungry is always a bad idea."
>>
>META POST

I'm done. I hope you've enjoyed reading this thread nearly as much as I've enjoyed running it.

A bunch of good Write Ins tonight (and some that I'm not crazy about, but that's neither here nor there) - thank you all! I hope you're happy with my attempts to integrate your work.

I think 39 unique IPs is a record for CMCQ, and I'm far happier about setting that record than I should be.

>LINKS

Twitter(for quest news, not my political views): https://twitter.com/HaikuDeluge

Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Cyberpunk%20Motorcycle%20Courier%20Quest

Megacorps & Locations: http://pastebin.com/e0ZjmVJL

Questions: http://ask.fm/haikudeluge
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>>37429023
Thanks for running dude, always enjoy a run of CMCQ
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Cliffhanger ending!
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>>37429023
Thanks for the thread HD, also the IP counter is very inaccurate, I had my net die mid thread, and when my router reconnected it reused my old IP it had when it DC'd, and it counted me as a new IP somehow, also smartphones and mobile devices go through loads of IPs.
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>>37429023
2 of those are mine sorry, 1 home 1 work.
And seriously thanks for running! You're Aces in a world full of pawns that are falling like dominoes. Yahtzee.
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I say we dig it, its a good offer. Ofcourse, we can offer our counteroffers. If we're going to do this, its going to be on our terms.

Thanks for running OP
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So on the topic of whether or not to take the offer, I say we ask for some conditions, not many, but mainly, that we don't have to go up against Eliza because fuck that.
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>>37429077
More like being given time to think over a decision, I hope.

>>37429086
See, this is why I said I was happier than I should be.

Rationally, I know it's horribly inaccurate. But the lizard brain doesn't care, and it gives me my jolt anyway.

>>37429125
>implying freelance jobs won't put you up against Eliza

The only way to ensure you don't have to go up against her again is to be on the same team.

That actually applies to everyone in here.
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>>37429023
Thanks for running Haiku! Your threads are always fun to be in. Also, before I got home.
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>>37429125
sounds good to me, Being a personal courier for a while could be fun.
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>>37429023
Thanks for running.
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>>37429125
>MY ONE CONDITION IS I DON'T HAVE TO FIGHT MY RIVAL

which she is now

I personally can't wait for the thread where we kick her ass in a race or on the job. not kill of course but prove that we're better
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>>37429175
>The only way to ensure you don't have to go up against her again is to be on the same team.
I meant more like giving us freedom in the job if we did go up against her rather than forcing us to fight her.

We also need really good exit clauses and should be able to quit when we want to.
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>>37429264
ehhhh sounds fine I guess. besides, we'll being running this city in 5 years, need to show everyone who's boss sooner or later.
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>>37429023
Thanks for running!

>>37429125
this sounds good. One of our conditions should be the ability to back out at any time if we decide we don't like what we're doing.
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>>37429321
>>37429301
I don't think this is the kind of thing where we can have an Exit at any point clause, you know?
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>>37429321
>One of our conditions should be the ability to back out at any time if we decide we don't like what we're doing.
I agree, though she might not like it, we can say if we quit without due reason and notice, we have to train a replacement for her.

>>37429385
Which is why I suggested what I wrote above.
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>>37429407
..... what you suggested above is what I don't think we'll be able to get though man.
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>>37429489
That was my point, she's unlikely to let us have that free of charge, which is why I think we would need to sweeten the deal.
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>>37429125
maybe we can ask to have the ability to take jobs outside Alexis, though hers will have priority. We'll still be able to work for the little guy and we at least will feel like we aren't part of a corp.
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>>37429548
thats something to ask her.
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>>37429023
Thanks for running
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So just like that? IC we've avoided joining a corp for years intentionally and you guys just want to join the first offer we get? The only thing we get out of this is a bit of job security and an employer we can question, super useful.

If you catch this in time Haiku, got an estimated next run time?
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>>37430270
>and an employer we can question
Thats one thing no one else is giving us, and no we're not jumping at it immediately, we need to think this through and work out a deal if we do go for it.
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>>37430270
As I understand it we've avoided corps because we don't want to be stuck doing things we don't agree with. This employer's allowing us to question the reasons and morals behind things. We're also going to try negotiating for a slightly better deal.
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>>37430270
Adding on this, if we have a reputation as someone who gets things done, wouldn't we make a nice trophy courier.

>>37430293
Why do we want that again? We're not hurting for cash or job chances. If something seems too sketchy, we don't take it. You're right about thinking it through though.
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>>37430384
Freelance we don't ever have to worry about that.
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>>37430440
Yeah we do, we work freelance and they don't tell us shit, we can't question anything, we either take the job or we don't, and you idiots keep jumping for the most dangerous jobs without the slightest bit of intelligence.
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>>37430459
As freelance, we always have to option of Nopeing out of a job. Anons like to abuse plot armor as much as they can get away with. That can only really be treated by a pushback from the QM like Soma did with the dead god mask.
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>>37430552
Well thats one reason why I don't want to take the job offer, the ability to nope out in the middle of it, but we don't know whether we could get that with the job offer too, we need more info before making a decision.

>like Soma did with the dead god mask
No idea what happened there, don't read that quest.
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>>37430596
>Soma
In short, he showed us something clearly extremely dangerous to use, had several NPCs tell us not to use it (including several more lighthearted ones). We used it and now we have a dead god in our head that has caused us many many problems.



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