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Voting Choices:

>”Yo, where you at choom?! Heard your chromehead uncle freaked and kicked you out. Crazy shit, hope he doesn’t short completely. Always thought his MaxTac stories were nova. Anyway, you can come crash at my place in japantown. Just moved in yesterday. That job I was talking about went off clean, got a fist full of eddies - Two fists! Easy fucking work, I’ve been trying to tell you!” [Streetkid Background]
Your friend Dolf is a real one. It sounds like those ‘jobs’ he was getting from that old lady in Westbrook worked out. Maybe that’s not a bad play?

>”BRING MY RIDE BACK RIGHT THE FUCK NOW YOU WORTHLESS BRAT! I’LL BE OUT MORE EDDIES THAN YOU’LL EVER BE WORTH IF MISS THIS SHIPMENT! I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU!” [Nomad Background]
Thanks, mom. Fuck you and all the other Wraiths too, I learned from the worst. Your (stolen) modded Thornton Colby and immuno-blocker shipment inside of it are stashed safely for now, but you only had the eddies to cover the garage for two days. Need to find a buyer, fast.

>”Please come home. You know I say gonk things when I’m tired. It’s the double shifts, I’m not mad at you. Sorry for being an asshole earlier. …You’re missing the fireworks. I know you like watching them from Kabuki. I’m on duty there now, they have me lurking out of a van again. If you get back tonight we can watch them together. I’ll get someone to cover for me.” [NCPD/Corpo Background]
You’re still angry, but dad’s a good guy. It was a dumb argument, too heated. That’s been happening a lot in the last year, ever since mom got too sick to work for BioTechnica and had to go to that clinic in Stockholm… NCPD isn’t easy to work for, even for a netrunner.

If you phone post or otherwise have your ID change please link back to earlier votes/posts to help identify you.

>>5829973
>”Please come home. You know I say gonk things when I’m tired. It’s the double shifts, I’m not mad at you. Sorry for being an asshole earlier. …You’re missing the fireworks. I know you like watching them from Kabuki. I’m on duty there now, they have me lurking out of a van again. If you get back tonight we can watch them together. I’ll get someone to cover for me.” [NCPD/Corpo Background]

>>5829973
>”Yo, where you at choom?! Heard your chromehead uncle freaked and kicked you out. Crazy shit, hope he doesn’t short completely. Always thought his MaxTac stories were nova. Anyway, you can come crash at my place in japantown. Just moved in yesterday. That job I was talking about went off clean, got a fist full of eddies - Two fists! Easy fucking work, I’ve been trying to tell you!” [Streetkid Background]

>>5829973
>”Yo, where you at choom?! Heard your chromehead uncle freaked and kicked you out. Crazy shit, hope he doesn’t short completely. Always thought his MaxTac stories were nova. Anyway, you can come crash at my place in japantown. Just moved in yesterday. That job I was talking about went off clean, got a fist full of eddies - Two fists! Easy fucking work, I’ve been trying to tell you!” [Streetkid Background]
Going for that generic street sam build.

>>5829973
>”Please come home. You know I say gonk things when I’m tired. It’s the double shifts, I’m not mad at you. Sorry for being an asshole earlier. …You’re missing the fireworks. I know you like watching them from Kabuki. I’m on duty there now, they have me lurking out of a van again. If you get back tonight we can watch them together. I’ll get someone to cover for me.” [NCPD/Corpo Background]
The law.

>>5829973
>>”Yo, where you at choom?! Heard your chromehead uncle freaked and kicked you out. Crazy shit, hope he doesn’t short completely. Always thought his MaxTac stories were nova. Anyway, you can come crash at my place in japantown. Just moved in yesterday. That job I was talking about went off clean, got a fist full of eddies - Two fists! Easy fucking work, I’ve been trying to tell you!” [Streetkid Background]

>>5829973
>”Please come home. You know I say gonk things when I’m tired. It’s the double shifts, I’m not mad at you. Sorry for being an asshole earlier. …You’re missing the fireworks. I know you like watching them from Kabuki. I’m on duty there now, they have me lurking out of a van again. If you get back tonight we can watch them together. I’ll get someone to cover for me.” [NCPD/Corpo Background]

>>5829973
>”Please come home. You know I say gonk things when I’m tired. It’s the double shifts, I’m not mad at you. Sorry for being an asshole earlier. …You’re missing the fireworks. I know you like watching them from Kabuki. I’m on duty there now, they have me lurking out of a van again. If you get back tonight we can watch them together. I’ll get someone to cover for me.” [NCPD/Corpo Background]

>>5829973

>”BRING MY RIDE BACK RIGHT THE FUCK NOW YOU WORTHLESS BRAT! I’LL BE OUT MORE EDDIES THAN YOU’LL EVER BE WORTH IF MISS THIS SHIPMENT! I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU!” [Nomad Background]

I have a great feeling about this quest!

>>5829973
>”BRING MY RIDE BACK RIGHT THE FUCK NOW YOU WORTHLESS BRAT! I’LL BE OUT MORE EDDIES THAN YOU’LL EVER BE WORTH IF MISS THIS SHIPMENT! I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU!” [Nomad Background]

>>5829973
>”Please come home. You know I say gonk things when I’m tired. It’s the double shifts, I’m not mad at you. Sorry for being an asshole earlier. …You’re missing the fireworks. I know you like watching them from Kabuki. I’m on duty there now, they have me lurking out of a van again. If you get back tonight we can watch them together. I’ll get someone to cover for me.” [NCPD/Corpo Background]

LETS GO!

>>5829973
>>”Please come home. You know I say gonk things when I’m tired. It’s the double shifts, I’m not mad at you. Sorry for being an asshole earlier. …You’re missing the fireworks. I know you like watching them from Kabuki. I’m on duty there now, they have me lurking out of a van again. If you get back tonight we can watch them together. I’ll get someone to cover for me.” [NCPD/Corpo Background]
>You’re still angry, but dad’s a good guy. It was a dumb argument, too heated. That’s been happening a lot in the last year, ever since mom got too sick to work for BioTechnica and had to go to that clinic in Stockholm… NCPD isn’t easy to work for, even for a netrunner.

ncpd netrunner? that's going to be a purgatory. Let's do this.

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>>5830006
Just to be clear, it is that option's father who is an NCPD netrunner. It is so much worse than purgatory. At least it isn't NetWatch.

Voting will be open for one more hour.

>>5829973
>”BRING MY RIDE BACK RIGHT THE FUCK NOW YOU WORTHLESS BRAT! I’LL BE OUT MORE EDDIES THAN YOU’LL EVER BE WORTH IF MISS THIS SHIPMENT! I SHOULD HAVE ABORTED YOU!” [Nomad Background]

>>5829973
>>”Please come home. You know I say gonk things when I’m tired. It’s the double shifts, I’m not mad at you. Sorry for being an asshole earlier. …You’re missing the fireworks. I know you like watching them from Kabuki. I’m on duty there now, they have me lurking out of a van again. If you get back tonight we can watch them together. I’ll get someone to cover for me.” [NCPD/Corpo Background]

>>5829973
>”Please come home. You know I say gonk things when I’m tired. It’s the double shifts, I’m not mad at you. Sorry for being an asshole earlier. …You’re missing the fireworks. I know you like watching them from Kabuki. I’m on duty there now, they have me lurking out of a van again. If you get back tonight we can watch them together. I’ll get someone to cover for me.” [NCPD/Corpo Background]

>>5829969
>>”Please come home. You know I say gonk things when I’m tired. It’s the double shifts, I’m not mad at you. Sorry for being an asshole earlier. …You’re missing the fireworks. I know you like watching them from Kabuki. I’m on duty there now, they have me lurking out of a van again. If you get back tonight we can watch them together. I’ll get someone to cover for me.” [NCPD/Corpo Background]

>>5829973
>”Please come home. You know I say gonk things when I’m tired. It’s the double shifts, I’m not mad at you. Sorry for being an asshole earlier. …You’re missing the fireworks. I know you like watching them from Kabuki. I’m on duty there now, they have me lurking out of a van again. If you get back tonight we can watch them together. I’ll get someone to cover for me.” [NCPD/Corpo Background]

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>>5830041
>>5830026
>>5830020
>>5830006
>>5829995
>>5829991
>>5829990
>>5829978
>>5829974
>>5830071
NCPD/Corpo background.

>>5830014
>>5829994
>>5829992
Nomad background.

>>5829980
>>5829977
>>5829975
Streetkid background.

NCPD/Corpo wins in a landslide. Writing.

>>5830072
Time to get on that grind

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>>5830041
>>5830026
>>5830020
>>5830006
>>5829995
>>5829991
>>5829990
>>5829978
>>5829974
>>5830071

As your eyes scan over the yellow text, your heart sinks. It’s from your father.

“Please come home. You know I say gonk things when I’m tired. It’s the double shifts, I’m not mad at you. Sorry for being an asshole earlier. …You’re missing the fireworks. I know you like watching them from Kabuki. I’m on duty there now, they have me lurking out of a van again. If you get back tonight we can watch them together. I’ll get someone to cover for me.”

Sighing unhappily you start to tap back a response on the touch screen, beginning and then deleting it several times. What the hell are you supposed to say? The cursor flashes, waiting patiently for your next attempt, cold and lifeless but somehow judging you all the same.

Fuck. Fuck! It was a gonk argument. Dad’s right. It wasn’t even about anything in particular. Mom, work, school, your ‘chooms’ that ditched you as soon as you had to move so dad could still make rent… If it’s anyone’s fault its fucking BioTechnica, they couldn’t even run a lab right.

Clenching the cold metal of your agent tightly, you stand quietly and close your eyes. You just need a moment to think. A few silent moments pass, only the distant thumps of fireworks and strings of gunfire cutting through the pitter patter of falling rain.

“Going to stand here all night, kid?” The man behind the mesh asks, “I can fire up the stove if you need a bite, gotta charge extra though. Didn’t think anyone but gangs’d be out here tonight.”

“No, I’m good. Thanks, choom.” You reply disinterestedly, still transfixed by the screen of your agent and the empty message waiting to be sent. What to say?

”I’m sorry too. I’ll take the NCART over, see you in half an hour dad.” With a final tap you send the little message off across the net, bouncing between god knows how many systems before it reaches your father.

A low droning thrum fills the air, shaking some of the loose pots and pans inside the closed scop shop as the rain cuts out suddenly and an immense shadow passes overhead. One of DTR’s cargo airship, a gargantuan hunk of metal, spotlights, and flashing billboards cutting across the sky. The fireworks must look like old school flak from way up there, like one of those ancient world war BD’s dad used to watch back when you saw him for more than a few minutes a day. Back when you didn’t argue for those few minutes. You miss that, bad.

“Fucking flight floors don’t mean anything these days, piece of shit DTR gonks-” The scop man grumbles, standing from his chair to pick up some of the fallen dishes. None of your biz. You turn to leave, stepping out into the temporarily darker, rainless street. A few more steps out into the puddles and muck and the airship passes by completely, rain and murky neon flashes filling the cloudy night sky once more.

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>>5830185

Checking your agent’s rain slick screen, you locate the nearest NCART station on its map and plot a path - Only a few hundred meters, practically just around the corner. No need for a map then, easy directions. Making your way past a pod hotel and an awful looking sex shop covered in ancient neon, you’re soon near the concrete stairs leading up to the NCART line.

It’s a quiet ride back to little china, only a couple of other passengers on the maglev. No one riding right now is in a good place in their life, that’s just not how it works. A chromed up woman wearing bright white and red and sporting blades for legs, a bearded hobo wearing a faded synthleather coat that saw its best years back when the sky was still bleeding red… Great company for a half-hearted runaway in a plastic jacket. Lights flash by the windows of the moving maglev, signs and screens outside wishing a ‘happy new year’ and already pushing new product lines. They can’t even wait a few minutes before shoving it right down everyone’s throats again.

Checking your agent you find that there isn’t a response from your dad. Weird. It only takes him a thought to send something over his link… You send another message. A minute passes, still no response. Huh. Maybe he’s busy. Kabuki can be pretty rough sometimes, he might be zapping some ganger’s chrome. Yeah, that’s probably it. Just taking out the trash like usual, that’s him. Something stirs faintly in your memory, but you let it pass.

As the maglev hums slowly to a halt at the next station and the doors hiss open, the hobo exits. Leaving just you and that Tyger Claw looking chick with metal spikes for lower legs. Fantastic.

She’s… glancing at you? Maybe you’re imagining things.

>Just keep to yourself, it’s only a few more stops. Dad always told you to keep your head low.
>”Hi.” What the fuck is compelling you to talk? Blow a circuit or something? Oh shit, there you go saying even more!

>>5830191
>”Hi.” What the fuck is compelling you to talk? Blow a circuit or something? Oh shit, there you go saying even more!

>>5830191
>”Hi.” What the fuck is compelling you to talk? Blow a circuit or something? Oh shit, there you go saying even more!

>>5830191
>Just keep to yourself, it’s only a few more stops. Dad always told you to keep your head low.
The sensible option.

>>5830191
>Give her a friendly noncommittal smile if she keeps looking

>>5830191

>”Hi.” What the fuck is compelling you to talk? Blow a circuit or something? Oh shit, there you go saying even more!

I like the idea of playing a well-meaning kid with a big mouth

>>5830191
>Just keep to yourself, it’s only a few more stops. Dad always told you to keep your head low.

>>5830191
>Just keep to yourself, it’s only a few more stops. Dad always told you to keep your head low.

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Voting will be open for one more hour.

>>5830191
>Just keep to yourself, it’s only a few more stops. Dad always told you to keep your head low.

>>5830191
>>Just keep to yourself, it’s only a few more stops. Dad always told you to keep your head low

>”Hi.” What the fuck is compelling you to talk? Blow a circuit or something? Oh shit, there you go saying even more!

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>>5830301
>>5830229
>>5830200
>>5830198
Hi!

>>5830290
>>5830281
>>5830239
>>5830235
>>5830201
Keep quiet.

Keeping quiet. Writing.

>>5830229
Still very possible, it's a classic.

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You lower your head further, pretending not to pay attention to the blade-legged woman. Dad always said it’s best to keep your head down in situations like this, lay low and keep quiet until there’s a decent path out. Not that you’re afraid of gangers, or chrome, or… okay, you might be a little scared of chromed up gangers - you’ve seen crime scene photos before, even a few in real life at a distance. Someone with as much chrome as that Tyger is sporting could turn your intestines into outestines faster than you could blink, wouldn’t even need a weapon. Half of it has got to be black market…

But she’s smiling? Rather pretty actual- No, no, fuck that gonk idea, keep quiet. No eye contact. Dad taught you better.

You bury your face in your Agent, suddenly overwhelmed with an immense need to find out what the weather is going to be like next week. N54, weather forecast, next week - Well, what do you know, more rain! How about other news? What’s going on in Watson, yeah, that’s a good one to check. Cyber-psycho on the loose? You start to read further than the headline, but a shift in the ganger woman’s posture pulls your attention back up.

…She is staring right at you, leaning way over, head held in her sleek cyberhands and red elbows resting on her knees as an amused smile spreads across her face. There’s no mistaking that.

Is she just fucking with you? Seeing if she can get some kid to jump? That’s what gangers do, right? Intimidate people for entertainment, see what noises they make before they give up all their eddies and beg not to die. …Or maybe she’s just dead bored, there’s no one else in the car.

The maglev comes to a slow halt once more, dooring hissing apart to allow a few more people on board. No one special, just more street people - not gangers, not suits, some bright colors and a little chrome here and there but otherwise totally unremarkable. They space out fairly evenly, as is the unspoken tradition, everyone desperately trying not to ever so much as bump into one another. Normally that’s not possible, NCART is always rife with shard kleppers and pickpockets, but people still try.

>>5830460

Another stop passes, and another, the car slowly filling up. Just one more stop. At long last the signs outside the maglev’s windows are truly familiar, the distant neon of a Mac N’ Cheezus strangely calming. Standing up from the cheap plastic seating, you move toward the opening door along with a few of the other passengers… and the staring woman. She smiles again and you blink, freezing up for a quarter second before hurrying along.

Click, click, click.

Sharp metal impacts sound with every step she takes, combat limbs making tiny marks on the floor of the maglev car and then the harshly illuminated concrete of the station outside. You hurry ahead with a few more normal looking pedestrians, a couple even sharing your terrible choice to buy a cheap single use raincoat - and all probably regretting it just as much. They always get holes after an hour or two, but the machines are convenient.

A quick jaunt down the stairs and you’re out of the station and back into the rain - and more crowded foot traffic. A lot more crowded. Sparklers defiantly resist the drenching rain, neon umbrellas light up the streets, and even few fireworks are being set off at street level. There’s even a couple of badges, you might know some of them but it’s hard to make out their faces in the rain and flashing lights.

Still no response from dad, and that Tyger Claw woman is heading in the same direction as you. She’s talking to someone, probably on holo. You can just barely make out her side of the conversation, listening closely between the pops and bangs of fireworks and constant thrum of falling rain.

”Chill, I’m nearly to the AO. Detes, now. No. …No! Screw doing a roll up. Flatline only or no job. I’m not sticking my neck out over some washed up MaxTac, pigs should clean up their own mess… No, you wouldn’t fucking dare, leave her out of… Kuso!”

>Head right to Kabuki marketplace, it’s not a long walk from here. A few minutes at most, even in heavy rain. You’re not spooked by some chromed woman staring, dad didn’t raise a coward.
>Drop by the local NCPD precinct for a minute or two. Better safe than sorry, and you know most everyone there through your dad. Maybe they can contact him?
>Write-in.

>>5830467
>Head right to Kabuki marketplace, it’s not a long walk from here. A few minutes at most, even in heavy rain. You’re not spooked by some chromed woman staring, dad didn’t raise a coward.
Oh god no, every white man's greatest fear, a sexually aggressive Asian woman

>>5830467
>Head right to Kabuki marketplace, it’s not a long walk from here. A few minutes at most, even in heavy rain. You’re not spooked by some chromed woman staring, dad didn’t raise a coward.

>>5830467
>Drop by the local NCPD precinct for a minute or two. Better safe than sorry, and you know most everyone there through your dad. Maybe they can contact him?

>>5830467
>>Head right to Kabuki marketplace, it’s not a long walk from here. A few minutes at most, even in heavy rain. You’re not spooked by some chromed woman staring, dad didn’t raise a coward.

>>5830467

>Drop by the local NCPD precinct for a minute or two. Better safe than sorry, and you know most everyone there through your dad. Maybe they can contact him?

Weird of him not to respond, better to check in?

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Voting closes in one hour.

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>>5830477
>>5830478
>>5830503
Direct to Kabuki marketplace.

>>5830479
>>5830523
Stop by the precinct.

Direct to Kabuki marketplace. Writing.

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Shaking your head you press on through the crowd, only occasionally catching glimpses of the red woman among the foot traffic and veritable sea of brightly lit umbrellas near mega-building eleven. Whatever it is she’s headed off to, that’s her biz. Usually when someone yaps on the holo about flatlining some gonk you’d assume it was a load of bullshit, but flashing that much obvious combat chrome and those Tyger Claw colors? Something tells you she's not pretending.

There’s something going down in the direction of Kabuki.

You bite at your lip nervously, feeling that you’re forgetting something really important. There was something on N54 about that earlier, wasn’t there? You weren’t paying much attention, too lost in your own thoughts and sulking. As you get closer to the iconic multi-tiered marketplace the street and foot traffic are thinning out, but the rain and fireworks keep pace - if anything they’re growing more intense. Closer. Weird ass fireworks to sound like that, almost like gunfire.

No, that’s definitely gunfire. Long bursts, erratic and echoing. Any gonk who’s relived a decent action BD could pick it out.

Squinting through the vibrantly colored crowd, you make out the red and blue flashing lights of NCPD police cruisers blocking some of the foot paths ahead. A few officers in full tactical gear are keeping a small crowd back from the line, a dozen more pointing guns inward toward the alleys and footpaths leading to the marketplace. A trauma team AV is even circling further in past the alleys and buildings, probably right over the multi-tiered marketplace, stubby little jets burning blue in the wash of rain. It’s not alone. Three of the flying white and blue bricks are orbiting the marketplace, spotlights pointed toward the center, each steadily tracking something.

>>5830785

Your pace slows to a crawl, and then a sudden splashing halt. The towering silhouette of mega-building eleven and bright firework blossoms reflect murkily in the puddle near your feet.

A cyber-psycho.

A cyber-psycho is on the loose in Kabuki marketplace in Watson, and has been for at least half an hour. There were thirty one casualties half an hour ago. That’s longer than usual, a lot longer. That Tyger Claw woman said something about washed up MaxTac. Where the hell is current MaxTac?

Where the hell is your dad? Your heartbeat quickens as an edge of panic begins to set in, horrifying possibilities flashing through your mind. …He’d make it out, right?

You have to find out.

>Approach the police line, you might know some of them. It’s a tense situation but they might talk to a familiar face. Or they might just shoo you off even more vigorously, they’re a really protective bunch. …Shit, if Vicky is there she might even try to babysit you ‘for your own good’.

>...Is that Tyger Claw chick climbing up a fire escape? Actually that’s not a half bad idea, you could get a really good view of what’s going on from on top of a building, maybe spot the van your dad was supposed to be lurking out of.

>That police cruiser over there is really, really empty looking and the door is open. You could just slip right in and scour the field comp. Check activity on the NCPD’s local sub-net. Dad showed you how, don’t even need a deck if you know the codes… which you do. You’re not supposed to.

Repost to fix some syntax errors.

>>5830788
>That police cruiser over there is really, really empty looking and the door is open. You could just slip right in and scour the field comp. Check activity on the NCPD’s local sub-net. Dad showed you how, don’t even need a deck if you know the codes… which you do. You’re not supposed to.

>>5830788
>That police cruiser over there is really, really empty looking and the door is open. You could just slip right in and scour the field comp. Check activity on the NCPD’s local sub-net. Dad showed you how, don’t even need a deck if you know the codes… which you do. You’re not supposed to.

>>5830788
>That police cruiser over there is really, really empty looking and the door is open. You could just slip right in and scour the field comp. Check activity on the NCPD’s local sub-net. Dad showed you how, don’t even need a deck if you know the codes… which you do. You’re not supposed to.
And if they're anything like IRL cops there's probably a spare pistol or shotgun in between the seats

>>5830788

>That police cruiser over there is really, really empty looking and the door is open. You could just slip right in and scour the field comp. Check activity on the NCPD’s local sub-net. Dad showed you how, don’t even need a deck if you know the codes… which you do. You’re not supposed to.

This had the added advantage of keeping us out of sight.

>>5830788
>That police cruiser over there is really, really empty looking and the door is open. You could just slip right in and scour the field comp. Check activity on the NCPD’s local sub-net. Dad showed you how, don’t even need a deck if you know the codes… which you do. You’re not supposed to.
Like father like son

>>5830788
>That police cruiser over there is really, really empty looking and the door is open. You could just slip right in and scour the field comp. Check activity on the NCPD’s local sub-net. Dad showed you how, don’t even need a deck if you know the codes… which you do. You’re not supposed to.
Although I’m not very thrilled at possibility of this landing us in trouble later on, I guess it’s best shot at being able to actually learn what’s going on…

>>5830788
>>That police cruiser over there is really, really empty looking and the door is open. You could just slip right in and scour the field comp. Check activity on the NCPD’s local sub-net. Dad showed you how, don’t even need a deck if you know the codes… which you do. You’re not supposed to.

>>5830788
>>That police cruiser over there is really, really empty looking and the door is open. You could just slip right in and scour the field comp. Check activity on the NCPD’s local sub-net. Dad showed you how, don’t even need a deck if you know the codes… which you do. You’re not supposed to.

>>5830788
>Approach the police line, you might know some of them. It’s a tense situation but they might talk to a familiar face. Or they might just shoo you off even more vigorously, they’re a really protective bunch. …Shit, if Vicky is there she might even try to babysit you ‘for your own good’.

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>>5831036
>>5831031
>>5830928
>>5830877
>>5830842
>>5830835
>>5830798
>>5830793
Police cruiser.

>>5831055
Line.

Police cruiser wins. Writing.

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You have to find out what’s going on, and you can. Dad showed you how to work the field comps NCPD keeps in their cruisers, and even some of the codes to access their sub-net. It’s risky, but there’s an empty cruiser just over at the end of the line and the officers are busy managing the small crowd gathered nearby. You’d call them gonks for wanting to get so close to a psycho attack, but they probably have people stuck in there too. Another long string of gunfire sounds from the direction of the marketplace, a rapid beat of echoing pops and then the dying scream of a synthetic vocalizer - a drawn out shriek of agony and terror cut off as abruptly as it started.

A chill runs down your spine, but you shake the feeling and press on into the small crowd. Slipping by a few other worried people clutching umbrellas, you reach to the cruiser with the open door, nearly losing your balance as you slide the last few meters across slick concrete and into the waiting driver’s seat. More gunfire market ways has everyone distracted, nervous eyes and guns trained keenly on the alleyways. You do recognize a few of the cops. Vicky, Barry, Andrew - familiar faces, but not ones you want spotting you right now.

You shut the cruiser’s door quietly and slide low and out of sight of prying eyes, careful to hide before scouring the comp. It’s a ruggedized field model, with a full retro keyboard for anyone without a jack to use. A few taps and a couple of codes-you-shouldn’t-know later and you’ve got access to the NCPD sub-net. Working it like this without a deck or even a link is slow, an absolute crawl, but manual operation gets the job done eventually. After a minute or two you’ve got a live feed of NCPD’s secured comms and even a few griffin drones inside the marketplace. If you wanted to you could even seize control of one of griffins, there's a local control override, but that’s a really fucking gonk idea.

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>>5831108

Glancing over the running streams of text and reports, you begin to take it all in.

...Cyber-Psycho situation in Kabuki marketplace in Watson… One suspect… Close perimeter at all entrances... Seventy-eight civilian casualties… Seventy-nine casualties… Eighty… Fifteen officers down…

Your eyes remain locked on that officer count. Fifteen. There aren’t any names here, you have to go deeper in for that. Checking the camera feeds on the drones, you flick between each one with a slowly growing dread. Half a dozen are static filled, damaged and grounded at strange angles, half sunk in puddles or cracked and tilted uselessly skyward.

There’s only three still flying, maintaining their distance above the scattered body and pooling crimson mixing with rainwater - Kabuki has been turned into a nightmare.

A pair of cruisers are burnt out wrecks, and your stomach churns briefly as one drone’s camera pans over a pair of bisected and crushed officers, reduced to piles of viscera and blue. The drone is still automatically pinging their IFF tags and flatlined biomonitors. You almost wretch, looking away from the screen and unable to bear anymore.

But of course you have to look back.

The picture tears briefly as a drone pans its camera over rapidly, vibrating and jolting soundlessly as rapid flashes appear at the bottom of the screen. It is shooting, straining to track a blue-ish green blur running across the market’s second pagoda-esque tier, shattering neon signs and filling the empty shop fronts with sprays of gunfire. A few rounds strike true, sparking uselessly of armored limbs, and the blur slows, coalescing briefly into the form of a bulky man in tattered tactical gear. His arm twitches, something dark rapidly fills the viewscreen, and the drone’s feed cuts.

Two drones left then. You check for other updates, but it’s just the same as a minute ago and only growing worse.

MaxTac delayed. No ETA. All sub-cons contacted.

Hands shaking, you finally managed to find the biomonitor tracking for officers on the sub-net, filtering through the list of red flatlines and green pulses until you locate your father.

No, no. That’s got to be an error. That shouldn’t be red.

…Not dad.

>Exit the cruiser. Find somewhere to sit down and die. This can’t be happening.
>Double check. Maybe there’s a daemon in the system or it’s just glitching out, it’s got to be something else. How do you check for that though?
>//Griffin Unit 07 Control Field Override - Master Arm On - Engage Suspect//

>>5831110
>//Griffin Unit 07 Control Field Override - Master Arm On - Engage Suspect//

>>5831110
>//Griffin Unit 07 Control Field Override - Master Arm On - Engage Suspect//
I normally would vote to not commit cyberpsycho assisted suicide for our mother's sake, but since we are here in the middle of the marketplace, it's too late for that.

>>5831110

>//Griffin Unit 07 Control Field Override - Master Arm On - Engage Suspect//

Our goal is clear - kill the chromed-our psycho who killed dad

>>5831110
>>Double check. Maybe there’s a daemon in the system or it’s just glitching out, it’s got to be something else. How do you check for that though?
wouldn't it be nice if we accidentally tripped on something that triggered the cyberpsycho attack in the first place?

>>5831110
>>//Griffin Unit 07 Control Field Override - Master Arm On - Engage Suspect//

>>5831110
>//Griffin Unit 07 Control Field Override - Master Arm On - Engage Suspect//

One more hour for voting.

>>5831110
>Double check. Maybe there’s a daemon in the system or it’s just glitching out, it’s got to be something else. How do you check for that though?

>>5831110
>Double check. Maybe there’s a daemon in the system or it’s just glitching out, it’s got to be something else. How do you check for that though?

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>>5831212
>>5831172
>>5831156
Double check the system.

>>5831166
>>5831157
>>5831125
>>5831113
>>5831112
Drone go brrrrrrt

Drone it is. Writing.

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>>5831166
>>5831157
>>5831125
>>5831113
>>5831112

No. No! Fuck that over chromed circ-brain, you’re going to flatline the bastard!

Hands shaking with rage, you select the manual override for one of the Griffins and execute the takeover with an angry clack of the enter key. The drone’s live feed expands to fill the entire wide screen of the comp, HUD information appearing near the corners and alongside a central crosshair. Dad let you fly one before, for a couple of minutes, but you weren’t allowed to shoot anything - you were told to never, under any circumstances, turn on this system. Sorry, dad, this is for you.

Master Arm On.

You don’t know what you’re doing past this point, and honestly you don’t fucking care. How hard can it be to figure it out? Sitting up further in the driver’s seat of the cruiser, you lean forward a little to get a better grip on the awkward keyboard and trackpad controls.

The Griffin’s camera bobs and dips erratically for longer than you’d like as you struggle to remember how to move it about, it’s a little like a VR game and a lot not like it at all - this keyboard control is retro in the worst ways. What’re all these numbers off to the sides? …Fuel, altitude, air speed… makes sense… and the flashing one is ammo? Probably ammo.

No time to figure it all out - that psycho is blurring around the market again in violent bursts, erratic explosions of movement launching him from place to place. Atop a shot out sign here, into a burning shop there, back out onto the bloody street below.

“Fuck it,” You mutter angrily, pushing the drone forward through the heavy rain, sending it careening toward where the blood soaked killer. He’s lit up from overhead, those Trauma Team AV’s overhead are spotlighting him but aren’t shooting. Fucking shoot you gonks, you have cannons!

>>5831282

Fine then, you’ll shoot.

The Griffin shakes and rattles as it lets loose, blue bright streams of tracer fire flashing out and stippling the concrete walls and street with every pulverizing shot. A storm of lead follows its red crosshair. That red cross chases the blur of the psycho across Kabuki marketplace, struggling and failing to keep ahead of him, failing to track, failing to hit anything but the ground. The ammo counter whizzes down, 540, 510, 480. Thumb sized holes are blasted in half shattered windows and graffiti covered red walls, the chairs and tables of a cafe front are swept away in the torrent of fire, and even a car gets the Bonnie and Clyde treatment - but not that psycho bastard! He’s too fast, leaping from place to place, always behind some steel bollard or concrete barrier, never sitting still. You can’t hit him like this, you can barely even see him. 390, 360, 330.

There’s motion elsewhere around the almost pagoda-like central market building, swift silhouettes of men and women hurrying into positions behind cover, one blurring nearly as fast as the psycho. Not official NCPD. Sub-cons, bounty hunters - whatever they are, they’re moving in to fight.

…The psycho, who conspicuously hasn’t returned fire this whole time, picks up a rifle from the bloody rain soaked street, snatching it up in a jerking violent motion, contorting strangely to avoid your unceasing if rather poorly aimed fire.

>Keep shooting, don’t let up the pressure for even a second! Psycho son of a bitch can’t dance around like that forever, some of his chrome has to overheat or fail eventually… right? Right? 300, 270, 240…

>Pull back and let the sub-cons or whoever that is engage, try to fire from the flanks. That is… tactically sound, you think? You really have no idea what you’re doing, maybe it’s a gonk idea.

>Switch to the other drone, it’s behind the psycho - Just don’t wobble around like an idiot this time and you might have a clear shot at his back. Damn these controls suck!

>>5831287
>Switch to the other drone, it’s behind the psycho - Just don’t wobble around like an idiot this time and you might have a clear shot at his back. Damn these controls suck!

>>5831287
>Pull back and let the sub-cons or whoever that is engage, try to fire from the flanks. That is… tactically sound, you think? You really have no idea what you’re doing, maybe it’s a gonk idea.

>>5831287
>>Keep shooting, don’t let up the pressure for even a second! Psycho son of a bitch can’t dance around like that forever, some of his chrome has to overheat or fail eventually… right? Right? 300, 270, 240…

>>5831287
>Switch to the other drone, it’s behind the psycho - Just don’t wobble around like an idiot this time and you might have a clear shot at his back. Damn these controls suck!
Think my IP might have changed, I'm >>5831172

>>5831287
>Switch to the other drone, it’s behind the psycho - Just don’t wobble around like an idiot this time and you might have a clear shot at his back. Damn these controls suck!
Always check your back. rookie mistake.

>>5831287
>Keep shooting, don’t let up the pressure for even a second! Psycho son of a bitch can’t dance around like that forever, some of his chrome has to overheat or fail eventually… right? Right? 300, 270, 240…

>>5831287

>>Switch to the other drone, it’s behind the psycho - Just don’t wobble around like an idiot this time and you might have a clear shot at his back. Damn these controls suck!

Classic bait and switch!

>>5831287
>Pull back and let the sub-cons or whoever that is engage, try to fire from the flanks. That is… tactically sound, you think? You really have no idea what you’re doing, maybe it’s a gonk idea.
Switching to other drone may mean sacrificing this on as we won’t be piloting it… let’s just not accidentally shoot up someone else. But keeping the heat on the psycho may help the mercs get a drop on him.

>>5831287
>Switch to the other drone, it’s behind the psycho - Just don’t wobble around like an idiot this time and you might have a clear shot at his back. Damn these controls suck!
me: >>5829978

Voting will be open for another half hour.

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>>5831417
>>5831369
>>5831369
>>5831321
>>5831314
>>5831288
Switch

>>5831406
>>5831292
Pull back

>>5831348
>>5831348
>>5831297
Dakka dakka dakka

Switching wins. Writing.

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>>5831417
>>5831369
>>5831369
>>5831321
>>5831314
>>5831288

As the predatory silhouettes of the sub-cons prowl in from the edges of the marketplace, you’re still blasting away to no effect - but if feels like you’re really getting the hang of it now. Aiming a little better, managing movement and recoil with less trouble - it’s a lot smoother, but for some reason the psycho isn’t even running anymore. It’s like he isn’t scared of the drone at all now, barely moving to avoid the increasingly tighter spray of bullets, giving absolute minimal effort. A lightning fast step to the left, a jarring dip to the right, and nothing so much as lands a scratch on him.

300, 270…

No, this won’t work, you need to mix things up.

Frustrated, you slap the key to switch drones. The screen’s perspective jumps suddenly, swaying and wobbling just like earlier but now behind the psycho. Meanwhile the previous Griffin falls fast, spinning out of control in the heavy rain before its systems take over and stabilize the gun toting little brick. It almost struck the ground, sweeping up at the last moment, but it’s all for nothing. Sparks blast across its lightly armored hull in a flash, bullets whizzing and dinging off of metal as the psycho lets off a deadly accurate burst. A few perforate, something important breaks, and the Griffin is sent careening aflame and out of control.

Now’s your chance! You fire, and miss. Ah! Fucking controls, no! A quarter second of adjustment and you sweep the red crosshair across the psycho while still blasting away, striking a few times in the small of his back. The rest of the long uncontrolled burst skitters and scatters across the wet street, tracers ricocheting up and into the shops and apartment buildings surrounding the far edges of the circular market.

As you adjust your aim back down, the psycho is on the move again, letting off rapid fire bursts from his stolen rifle. You can’t avoid them. You don’t even have a link or training, this is all painfully slow meatspace reflexes. The psycho's rounds hit as soon as you see the muzzle flash, the drone’s live feed cuts, and you barely refrain from slamming clenched fist into the comp.

Easy there, easy, that won’t help. It won’t do any good, or bring dad back. Is there a gun in here? You could go zero the bastard yourself. ...No, gonk plan, even worse than the drone.

Struggling to pull yourself out of sinking despair at your helplessness, you almost miss the drone’s camera winking back to life. The picture is all kinds of messed up and patchy, barely focused, smashed at some strange angle in a pile of trash if the soggy rain soaked box of buck-a-slice in front of it is anything to go by - but you can see the psycho and the sub-cons. They’re fighting between some of the cement vehicle barriers near the edge of the market, finally making their move.

>>5831566
>Stay and watch, you have to see this through. You have to see that bastard die.

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>>5831562

It’s not going well.

One of the sub-cons, a man in a dark synth-leather trench coat, seems to just detonate mid grenade throw. Blinking, you realize the grenade was shot out of his hand. His arm is gone, only ribbons left, and he falls screaming out of sight.

Another one, a woman with long neon green hair and some kind of short little automatic rifle, circles the psycho. She’s pumping round after round into him as she strafes about avoiding return fire, but not quite matching the blurring speed of the chromed up madman. In a flash the steely faced psycho is beside her, his sparking and mangled cyberarm raised high, a combat spur extended from the wrist. In another flash the woman’s little rifle is cut in two, sacrificed to block the cut, and she’s stumbling back with a pistol in hand, firing smoothly without missing a beat. Another sweep and her shooting hand is removed, and then her other, and finally the full weight of the psycho follows behind the blade in a ferocious impaling tackle. He blurs off to another sub-con, chased by gunfire the whole way, but the green haired woman is deathly still, barely visible on camera.

The psycho is tearing them to pieces, one slash and burst at a time, a few managing to dance with him for a second or two before getting caught and flatlined - whatever plan they put together, whatever tiny advantage your stunt with the drones might have given them, it’s all falling apart now.

…But so is the psycho.

He’s slowing down, disappearing from the camera’s limited viewing angle for longer and longer, and stumbling back in with more holes torn in his chrome. Even more sub-cons are rolling in, MaxTac might not be here to clean up their own mess but Night City has no shortage of mercs. Come on, someone kill him! The bounty has got to be ridiculous by now. Someone just needs to zero the psycho and go home with the eddies, get some revenge for dad.

Kill him! Come on, flatline him!

There’s an explosion, dust obscuring the camera’s already poor view of the battle, but the rain soon clears it from the air. The psycho is in tatters but still moving fast, fighting… that woman from earlier, and some huge sumo looking dude!

>Stay and watch, you have to see this through. You have to see that bastard die.
>Delta. Too much time in the cruiser, someone might spot you.

Repost to fix some errors.

>>5831569 I see your vote, don't worry.

>>5831572
>Stay and watch, you have to see this through. You have to see that bastard die.

>>5831572
>Delta. Too much time in the cruiser, someone might spot you.
We got our shots in, we've gotta exfil

>>5831572
>Stay and watch, you have to see this through. You have to see that bastard die.

Engrave it into our eyes

>>5831572
>>Stay and watch, you have to see this through. You have to see that bastard die

>>5831572
>>Stay and watch, you have to see this through. You have to see that bastard die.

One more hour for votes.

>>5831572
>Stay and watch, you have to see this through. You have to see that bastard die.
Why no Ganger milf?

>>5831675
Because we haven't seized one yet

>>5831572

>Stay and watch, you have to see this through. You have to see that bastard die.

It’s not the smart move but the right one

>>5831572
>Stay and watch, you have to see this through. You have to see that bastard die.

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>>5831721
>>5831703
>>5831675
>>5831634
>>5831619
>>5831616
>>5831587
Stay and watch.

>>5831594
Delta.

Staying to watch. Writing.

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Enraptured by the unfolding scene, your eyes remain locked on the artifacting live feed. Boxy red error reports coming in on the edges of the screen, damage alerts and failing diagnostics. With a few quick taps you dismiss them, revealing the blurry form of that Tyger Claw woman from earlier. She slinks into focus, stalking through the rain and clearing smoke step by deadly step. Her expression is cold, emotionless except for the slightest narrowing of her eyes - It’s the visage of a huntress preparing to descend on wounded prey.

You can’t see the psycho’s face, his back is to the camera, but you have to imagine it’s far less composed - his limbs are sparking and ruined, somehow still supporting his weight and swaying side-to-side movement. He’s still dangerous, still mobile despite layers of chrome blasted away and redundant systems beginning to fail entirely.

A huge sumo looking man looms behind the red woman, carefully sliding a white jacket off and tossing it to the ground as he prepares to fight. He’s huge, far larger than the washed up MaxTac freak ever was even before he got shot to ribbons, and he’s sporting more heavy chrome than a ripperdoc’s display room. Bulky visible dermal armor, a reinforced faceplate, knuckles sparking with jumping arcs of electricity, heavy duty cyberlimbs - and he’s wearing the same red and white Tyger Claw colors as the woman.

For a heartbeat the scene holds like that, the pair of presumed Tyger Claws staring down the damaged psycho in the smoke and rain, bodies strewn all around. Time crawls. A yellow firework flashes high overhead, bright enough to wash Kabuki market in something close to daylight.

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>>5831853

The damaged camera whites out. When it clears battle has been met.

The red woman is gone, vanished, and the psycho and sumo are locked in a life or death struggle. Metal hands are locked on one another as they tumble across the ground, fists jackhammering into dermal plating whenever they slip free, sparking and denting any target they find purchase on. Even damaged, the psycho is terrifyingly strong, contending nearly equally with the massive man and still faster. The wounded psycho slips the sumo’s grip, twisting about to get behind the huge brute in a nasty hold, that spur in his arm launching out and through the sumo’s heavy dermal plating at a weak joint - but the sumo’s other hand has the psycho’s leg in an iron grip, discharging capacitors in his palms sending a wave of electricity blasting across them both.

The psycho’s combat spur retracts involuntarily, returning half way into its concealed arm housing before jamming up as a few of the psycho’s implants finally overload one too many times. As soon as the squatty rectangular blade is free from the sumo’s body, the huge man is moving once more, slamming the lighter chrome fiend right into the pavement and sending him sliding into a nearby transport dataterm. It explodes in a shower of sparks, ancient hardware from back before the 2020’s giving out a dying gasp of flash and thunder.

Before the last sparks burn out in the bloody water, the psycho is already up, sweeping up a fallen handgun faster than the stumbling sumo can react. The gun barks once, twice, and then flies off into the rainy night along with the rest of the psycho’s left arm from the elbow down.

The searing edges of thermal mantis blades steam in the rainy dark, the Tyger Claw woman’s active camouflage flickering away in hexagonal patterns as she strikes from near total invisibility.
She dips, gracefully avoiding a flailing spinning blow from the psycho’s remaining arm by dropping to a knee. Her other mantis blade stabs forward into the back of the insane man’s leg piercing its close to the area the sumo’s iron grip just crushed. A glowing orange edge punches through the limb before tearing down the remaining length, splitting the leg into smoking bisected halves.

The psycho half stumbles away even with his leg almost totally destroyed, but the woman is on him again faster than the camera can track, bright crimson tackling tattered blue and green - One of her combat legs stabs into the psycho’s good leg… or what was his good leg, and he finally loses balance. He falls forward briefly before both his arms are hooked under the armpit by the woman’s upward turned mantis blades. That’s the end of it.

Sprays of white synth blood and two limbs splash into waiting rain puddles.

>>5831855

The two Tygers have the psycho at their mercy. He’s a limbless, blooding, malfunctioning stump of a man, synth blood pumping out fast, cyber eyes fading to embers. You nearly let out a cheer, any of the horror of the sight washed away entirely by righteous fury and excitement. They’re going to do it, that bastard is going to die! The woman stomps him once more, pinning what’s left of the man in place like a bug stuck with a tack, the pointed end one long combat leg holding the psycho down while the sumo dusts himself off, grabs his rain slick jacket from the ground, and finally stomps over.

…But they don’t finish the psycho off immediately.

The woman lifts her impaling foot out, says something the camera can’t pick up, and motions with one finger to the twitching psycho and then the sumo. The huge sumo looking guy leans down, grabs the not-quite-corpse by what’s left of his collar, and picks him up. After a moment he adjusts his grip and slides the tattered body under one arm as casually as someone might carry a bag on NCART, and the two fighters begin to walk toward the stairs leading into the market’s underground level.

Soon they’re entirely out of the damaged drone’s view. It’s over.

“No, come on, flatline him!” You protest aloud, anger and grief a volatile mix churning within you, “Dammit!”

A gentle knock on the cruiser’s armor glass window sends you nearly leaping through its roof in surprise, the bright light of a tactical light shining into the interior. Wincing, you turn to see the familiar face of NCPD officer Victoria Reyes. She’s pissed, brown eyes narrowed sharply and a deep scowl you've seldom seen ruining her normally soft features.

>”Vicky, that bastard got dad.” Don’t even bother trying to explain what you were doing, it doesn’t matter. She’s always liked you, dad too. Maybe she’ll cover for you.
>...Say nothing, just give a sad look and comply with instructions. You really don’t want to talk right now, not with anyone. Maybe mom, but she’s not even on the same continent. Fuck, you’re exhausted.
>Crawl across the cruiser and try to bolt out the other door. Friendly face or not, seizing control of those drones might be too much to cover for. That was probably, uh, turbo-illegal, or something. Very bad.
>Write-in?

>>5831858
>”Vicky, that bastard got dad.” Don’t even bother trying to explain what you were doing, it doesn’t matter. She’s always liked you, dad too. Maybe she’ll cover for you.

>>5831858
>”Vicky, that bastard got dad.” Don’t even bother trying to explain what you were doing, it doesn’t matter. She’s always liked you, dad too. Maybe she’ll cover for you.

>>5831858
>”Vicky, that bastard got dad.” Don’t even bother trying to explain what you were doing, it doesn’t matter. She’s always liked you, dad too. Maybe she’ll cover for you.
>inb4 we end up as Mantis Mommy's arm candy with a bunch of stealth augs in us to make us a straight killer

Fifty more minutes for voting.

>>5831858
>Crawl across the cruiser and try to bolt out the other door. Friendly face or not, seizing control of those drones might be too much to cover for. That was probably, uh, turbo-illegal, or something. Very bad.

>>5831858
>”Vicky, that bastard got dad.” Don’t even bother trying to explain what you were doing, it doesn’t matter. She’s always liked you, dad too. Maybe she’ll cover for you.

>>5831858
>”Vicky, that bastard got dad.” Don’t even bother trying to explain what you were doing, it doesn’t matter. She’s always liked you, dad too. Maybe she’ll cover for you.

>>5831941
>>5831934
>>5831913
>>5831872
>>5831860
Talk.

>>5831919
Bolt.

Talking wins. Writing.

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“Vicky,” You barely choke the words out as you open the cruiser’s door, the awful reality of the night finally settling in as your vengeful rage ebbs away into grief, “That bastard got my dad.”

Vicky’s brown eyes widen, suspicion and anger turning to immediate sympathy as her scowl vanishes, “...We don’t know that yet. Come on, up. Get out of there before someone else sees.”

No need to tell you twice. Stepping back out into the rainy night, Vicky grabs you forcefully by the arm and leads you off a ways from the gathered crowd and police line. The fireworks haven’t slowed, still flashing and cracking high overhead. Night City doesn’t stop for anything, especially not you.

As you reach a small cubby housing a few vending machines, Vicky brings you into a tight hug. The pouches and gadgets on her blue NCPD tactical vest press into you uncomfortably, but you don’t mind. It’s over too soon.

“Vicky, that psycho got him. I saw it, dad’s red on the sub-net, flatli-” You start to say again before the young officer interrupts you.

“Don’t talk like that.” She states firmly, pressing a gloved finger into your chest, “It’s not over until the med-techs call it. It hasn’t been an hour yet. They should be moving in now, I’ll make sure he’s first on the AV.”

“You will?” She doesn’t have that kind of authority, NCPD can’t give Trauma orders like that.

“...I’ll try.” Vicky falters, less confident, “I can’t promise anything. Need to clean up whatever it is you did over there on the comp, absolute gonk move. Look, just don’t do anything stupid tonight, alright? Anything else stupid. Go home, stay there, call your mom. It’s morning in Stockholm, right?”

“Yeah, morning about now.” You mumble back in reply. Mom won’t handle the news well. The doctors say she isn’t supposed to get stressed, it speeds up the neuro-degeneration. That’s one of the big reason she’s out there in the clinic. Costs more than an arm and a leg, dad had to sell a lot of stuff to afford it but it’s worth it for mom.

“I’ll be by with some of the others once things are cleaned up, we’ll get you a ride to the medcenter. I’ll come myself if I can - We’re going to take care of things, whatever you need. Taro-... The lieutenant… Your father… He'll pull through, gut feeling says so. He's tough.”

You blink and nod, a terrible feeling seizing hold. It’s going to be a trip to the morgue, not one of the treatment wards.

“I’ve got to get back to the line.” Vicky says after glancing over her shoulder for a moment, her stepping aside with you beginning to draw the attention of a few of the other officers, “You weren’t here, okay? Wipe your agent before you get back to your apartment. Last thing any of us need is the lieutenant’s…”

>”...Son getting caught drone jacking.”
>”...Daughter getting caught drone jacking.”

Oh, so she knows exactly what you were doing.

>>5831978
>”...Son getting caught drone jacking.”

>>5831978
>”...Son getting caught drone jacking.”
Me: >>5831417

>>5831978
>>”...Son getting caught drone jacking.”
Time to grind

>>5831978
Love the set up btw QM

>>5831978
>”...Son getting caught drone jacking.”

>>5831978
>”...Son getting caught drone jacking.”
Fuckin beautiful build up qm

>>5831978
>”...Son getting caught drone jacking.”

>>5831978
>”...Son getting caught drone jacking.”

>>5831978
>”...Son getting caught drone jacking.”

>>5831978
>”...Daughter getting caught drone jacking.”

>>5831978

>”...Son getting caught drone jacking.”

>>5831978
>>”...Daughter getting caught drone jacking.”

>>5831978
>”...Daughter getting caught drone jacking.”

>>5831978
>”...Son getting caught drone jacking.”

>>5831978
>”...Son getting caught drone jacking.”

File: Mitzutani Shion Convertible.png (2.75 MB, 1920x1080)

2.75 MB PNG

>>5831985
>>5832025
>>5832027
>>5832057
>>5832059
>>5832073
>>5832086
>>5832092
>>5832110
>>5832188
>>5832193
Son.

>>5832167
>>5832122
>>5832103
Daughter.

Son wins. Writing.

File: Not downtown.png (2.14 MB, 1920x1080)

2.14 MB PNG

>>5831985
>>5832025
>>5832027
>>5832057
>>5832059
>>5832073
>>5832086
>>5832092
>>5832110
>>5832188
>>5832193

“Last thing any of us need is the lieutenant’s son getting caught drone jacking.” Vicky continues, “Go on, delta. You’ll make it through this. You both will.”

You swallow hard, trying to believe her words but finding they just slide right off.

“Thanks, Vicky.” You manage to reply before hurrying off into the night, walking at first to avoid suspicion but gradually quickening, step by step, until you’re at nearly a dead sprint. Feet splashing through puddles, rain on your face, neon signs and fireworks overhead, drunken new years crowds out in defiance of the weather. It’s all a jumbled mess, you can’t see any of it well - your plastic coat’s hood does an awful job keeping the rain out of your eyes, cheap piece of trash.

You can’t run from what happened, but it’s easier than thinking about it. All too soon you arrive at your dirty old apartment building. It’s a bit of a dump on the outside, patchy blue walls having seen their best years a long, long time ago and dirty fenced in parking half filled with dumpsters and trash - there’s always some beat up van or truck taking up too much space. It’s not a total dump though, the rooms are actually pretty nice inside, but you know there’s at least a couple of gang members living in some of the other units. Plenty of graffiti inside and out to attest to that. Guardian gangs mostly, the kind that keep the really nasty gonks away, but still gangs. You don’t talk to them much, dad discouraged it. He only moved you both out here because he had to, you used to live downtown back when mom was pulling in those big checks, but you’ve been circling the drain for months now. Medical bills don’t ever get smaller.

…Maybe you’re all the way down the drain now.

Before you go inside, you stop to wipe your agent as best you can. If anyone is really determined to know what happened they can probably still snatch up the data somehow, you’ll need dad to make sure there’s nothing left… oh. God, this rain.

The front door to the building, or what passes for one, isn’t even closed - thumping music sounds from a few of the other units in the building as you ascend the dirty old stairs to the second level. How can people still be partying? Don’t they have any idea what’s happened? Keying into your apartment, you stumble in and collapse on the stained sofa.

>>5832273

Dad’s gone. Probably gone. You won’t know for another hour or so. That’s how it works, med-techs scoop people up, get the heart pumping again or plug one in, and run their tests. See if there’s anything that can be saved. Dad talked about it sometimes when he was trying to scare you out of doing gonk shit, that hour long window before the brain is too far gone. Some of his friends in the NCPD have gotten torn up horribly and still got pieced back together. Vicky lost most of her leg last year, got a cloned one the next day instead of chrome.

But dad’s a netrunner. Was a netrunner. You know how netrunners bite it. How it usually happens when they’re plugged in - at best they end up some ghost in the net, but usually it’s just over. The wrong parts of their brain get fried and the show’s over.

Maybe he just got shot though, maybe it’s not that.

Just got shot?

What the hell is wrong with you, thinking about dad like that? That’s still horrible. That fucking psycho did this, that son of a bitch. Just the thought of that bastard causes you to clench your fists tight enough to draw tiny drops of blood from your palm. You’d strangle the life out of him if you could, but… the anger isn’t holding as long now.

You’re just… empty.

You need to call mom.

>Lie.
>Tell her what happened.
>...Wait. Maybe tomorrow. Or the day after. Or after that. She doesn’t need this.

>>5832276
>...Wait. Maybe tomorrow. Or the day after. Or after that. She doesn’t need this.
Let's calm down and wait for complete information first, if we talk to mom right now, it's certain that it's going to make her condition worse.

>>5832276
>...Wait. Maybe tomorrow. Or the day after. Or after that. She doesn’t need this.
We could wait to empty out the cupboards.

>>5832276
>>...Wait. Maybe tomorrow. Or the day after. Or after that. She doesn’t need this.
yeah, not put it away indefinitely but at least until we learn more. Let's not risk giving either unneeded trauma or false hope...

>>5832276

>...Wait. Maybe tomorrow. Or the day after. Or after that. She doesn’t need this.

Better to give her time. Or us time. Seems unfair to break the news before we even know what the situation is…

>>5832276
>Tell her what happened.

>>5832276
>Tell her what happened.

One more hour for votes.

>>5832276
>...Wait. Maybe tomorrow. Or the day after. Or after that. She doesn’t need this.

>>5832276
>...Wait. Maybe tomorrow. Or the day after. Or after that. She doesn’t need this.

>>5832276
>Tell her what happened.

>>5832276
>...Wait. Maybe tomorrow. Or the day after. Or after that. She doesn’t need this

>>5832279
>>5832281
>>5832284
>>5832294
>>5832323
>>5832333
>>5832338
Wait.

>>5832336
>>5832303
>>5832295
Call now.

Waiting wins. Writing.

File: Medcenter.png (5.24 MB, 2560x1440)

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Looking down at your agent, your thumbs hovers over its touch screen, just above your mom’s profile. One tap and you’ll be talking, she’s usually free in the morning. But you can’t do it. Not yet. There are too many questions hanging in the air, dad might still make it, med-techs might drag him back.

You’ll call tomorrow. Or maybe the day after. Or after that one. You’re already dreading it. There’s a lot you need to try to clean up before speaking to mom. That’s all on you now, no one else is going to handle it. Well, maybe Vicky and some of the others, but it’s little comfort.

Empty and drained, you trash your raincoat and get ready to sleep, working entirely on autopilot. The routine of it takes your mind off things, but the shower’s awful, way too much time to think. When you finally crawl into bed you find yourself wish you’d died. It’s pitiful. Dad wouldn’t want to see you like this, but how can you do anything else?

In the morning you’ll find your resolve. Yeah, in the morning.

Sleep doesn’t come for hours. You dream of red eyes burning in the rain, bloody streets, and... that woman.

2076.01.04, 11:30
Night City

The worst string of cyber-psycho attacks in the last two years; that was the headline for all of half a day before Night City buried it along with everything else bad that ever happens and isn’t financially convenient, right down the memory hole. There were seven other attacks on New Years, MaxTac teams were scrambling between the others and just got overwhelmed. Wouldn’t have helped anyways. Dad’s gone.

The med-techs called it almost immediately once the AV got him to the medcenter in little china, too much brain damage. You haven’t gotten the full story, but it was some kind of black IC or something, blew right through the biofeedback filters on his deck and took out half the van’s systems at the same time. Military level stuff, just like you’d feared. NCPD did an autopsy and took all of dad’s chrome for further investigation, cremated him right after.

His ashes are in a canister on the table, date of birth and death flashing across its cheap screen, ready to go off to the columbarium at the edge of the city for the rest of time.

File: Columbarium_entrance.png (4.7 MB, 3002x1241)

4.7 MB PNG

>>5832448

Mom knows.

She got an automated alert on her link courtesy of some faceless bureaucrat in the NCPD. Not one of dad’s friends. She called in a panic, hoping it was a glitch. That conversation hurt more than a bullet, and there’s been a couple more since. You hate it. She shouldn’t have found out like that. You could’ve called, waited a little less. Beating yourself up over it won’t make it any better though, you’ve had enough of that for a few days at least. Probably be back at it within the week, but you’re trying not to screw anything else up now.

Right now you have to deal with paperwork. Piles of it, most digital but a few packets still on archaic sheets - it’s too much for a teenager to make sense of. Finances, legal stuff, ownership transfers, loads of fucking garbage you shouldn’t have to deal with right after your dad got murdered by some psycho MaxTac cast off.

Vicky and the others from the precinct have helped with some of the practical stuff, errands and the like, and the department sent over one of their lawyers for a couple of hours to help plan things out and make sense of your family’s situation. He was bored. Clearly didn’t care much. Did his job at least, dad’s death pension from NCPD was approved and it’s helping to pay for mom’s treatment.

It’s not even close to enough, a couple thousand eddies a month. Her costs are in the low five figures usually, and hit six figures once when she had that experimental nano-tech surgery. That basically burned through all of your family’s investments and savings, and that’s with mom’s ‘compensation package’ from BioTechnica halving the cost to begin with. How dad’s been paying for it these last few months is a mystery, the money from his work just doesn’t add up to what was needed, even with all the extra shifts.

But hey, at least you finished school early - getting those credits and cutting a year off high school really helped you get ahead of things. Yeah, sure. What a fucking waste, there’s no way you’ll be going to university without a corporate contract covering it now, and there’s no time for that kind of commitment.

You’ve got three weeks before the sky starts to fall.

Rent will be due, mom’s bills will come in, everything’s going to come crashing down. But that’s a problem for later, right now you have your father’s funeral to attend. It’s supposed to be small, a few friends from the NCPD and old work colleagues of mom’s. She’ll be there in VR, which is to say she won’t be there. No money for a flight, and she’s in no condition to travel alone even if there was.

>Take stock of what all you DO have. Check over dad’s things. Feels a little less like he’s gone when you look over some of it, and you still haven’t dug through his comp.
>Head off now, you can’t be late to your own father’s funeral. Need to put on a strong show for mom, even if it kills you.
>Write-in.

>>5832450
>Head off now, you can’t be late to your own father’s funeral. Need to put on a strong show for mom, even if it kills you.
Wait, our character actually waited the three days? I thought it was just a manner of speech.

>>5832453
>Take stock of what all you DO have. Check over dad’s things. Feels a little less like he’s gone when you look over some of it, and you still haven’t dug through his comp.
I want to know what illegal business dad was up to now rather than later

>>5832457
And by that, I thought we would wait until this happened
>The med-techs called it almost immediately once the AV got him to the medcenter in little china
Or after going to sleep, not actually trying to never tell her.

I guess I got to be more careful to what to vote for

>>5832460
I thought it was pretty clear the choices were
>Bite the bullet
>Cover it up
>Give excuses and avoid the problem

>>5832457
It happened the morning after, meant to include that. If it got left out it was an accidental victim of editing. Basically he just got the opportunity to call first snatched away by some asshole in an office on the other side of the city.

>>5832453
>Take stock of what all you DO have. Check over dad’s things. Feels a little less like he’s gone when you look over some of it, and you still haven’t dug through his comp.

>>5832453
>Head off now, you can’t be late to your own father’s funeral. Need to put on a strong show for mom, even if it kills you.
We'll look over his stuff when you get back

>>5832472
Ah, I see, so it was a case of bad luck. Poor guy can't catch a break.
I doubt he would have been clearheaded enough to not break down crying to mother over the phone at that moment, make her panic anyway and still blame himself afterwards.

>>5832453
>Take stock of what all you DO have. Check over dad’s things. Feels a little less like he’s gone when you look over some of it, and you still haven’t dug through his comp.

Definitely want to do this, especially after hearing that Dad might have been doing illegal shit... Personally? I smell a cover up, on some level; Doesn't help that he was a Netrunner.

>>5832453
>>Head off now, you can’t be late to your own father’s funeral. Need to put on a strong show for mom, even if it kills you.

Go now, find the missing money after

>>5832453
>Take stock of what all you DO have. Check over dad’s things. Feels a little less like he’s gone when you look over some of it, and you still haven’t dug through his comp.

>>5832453
I dont want to skip the funeral for this, but can we at least make backup of dad's data in case some accident were to happen to the originals

>>5832453
>>Head off now, you can’t be late to your own father’s funeral. Need to put on a strong show for mom, even if it kills you.

>>5832453
>Head off now, you can’t be late to your own father’s funeral. Need to put on a strong show for mom, even if it kills you.

One more hour for votes.

>>5832453
>Take stock of what all you DO have. Check over dad’s things. Feels a little less like he’s gone when you look over some of it, and you still haven’t dug through his comp.

>>5832577
>>5832490
>>5832481
>>5832477
>>5832459
Take stock.

>>5832457
>>5832479
>>5832489
>>5832506
>>5832533
Head off.

I guess I'll split the difference then to keep things moving, don't want to get bogged down with tie breakers right now. Very short check and then immediately off to the funeral. Writing.

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…Before you head out of the apartment you look around one last time. Some of dad’s things are still right where he left them, looking as if he could just walk back through the door at any moment. It’s a nice fantasy, for a few moments anyways, but he won’t ever be back.

Pacing around, reluctant to step out the door and take that first step toward the funeral - a terrible sense of finality hanging above it - you kill a few minutes looking over everything. Just a minute or two, still want to get there early, but you deserve a moment to breathe.

Dad’s comp draws your attention first, a monster of a setup that’s really only missing a netrunning chair or an ice bath and plugs. You never touched his comp unless he was showing you something, teaching you the ins and outs of the net - which used to be all the time. You weren’t old enough to get a data-jack or anything like that, not without risking growing right out of it, but that time is pretty much gone now. You’d probably be chipped already if money wasn’t so tight and mom didn’t get skittish about it.

Music posters adorn the walls nearby, carefully preserved and moved from apartment to apartment for what must be decades now. Before you were born anyways. It’s all ancient dusty indie bands that weren’t new even when dad was a kid - Samurai, old Eurodyne before he really sold out, Cartesian Duelists, and half a dozen others.

Sitting down in his chair, you power the comp up only to be faced with the login screen; you don’t know the password, but it… unlocks on its own?

Facial recognition then, maybe. But the camera isn’t on? Huh.

…Odd, his contacts are already opened, a whole long list of people’s names you don’t recognize and an inbox with a few new messages. There’s Vicky, and Barry, and a few others from the NCPD you know, but who the hell is 8ug8ear? Or Nix? Dakota? Fantasy nonsense aliases and a couple more people with old NUSA states for names. The messages are even denser looking than the contact list was, a recent job offer from someone named Wakako sticking out among a few other correspondences. No time to read that right now, however curious you are.

File: Shrine.png (2.27 MB, 1920x1080)

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>>5832644

Careful to logout and shut the comp down completely, you take stock of the rest of the things dad left behind. A couple of guns in an old safe under the bed, the keys to his Quadra Turbo - it’s a nova car but a bit dinged up, probably going to have to sell it. You never got upset he kept it even when you moved apartments, he loved that thing.

..And then there's a couple thousand eddies in cash rolled up and banded together in a shoe box. You’ve mentally filed it away as already spent, bills do loom, but you still have it. Besides all that there’s some netrunning equipment, hardware components for old decks, that sort of thing - you don’t know enough to assemble anything useful, but it does have some value in the right crowds.

Sighing, taking a now truly final look, you turn and head out the door. Just have to bite the bullet. It’s not far to the NCART station, you’ll have to walk for awhile once you get to the closest stop though, the shrine is in North Oak. Nice place, too nice for public transport. You’d drive there but dad’s car isn’t actually parked nearby, it’s in a rented spot a few blocks away - and a new driver taking a really touchy sports car to a funeral of all things doesn’t seem like a great idea. That’d be just your luck this week, crash dad’s car and die on the way to send him off.

2076.01.04, 12:05
Night City (North Oak)

It was a bit of a hike, but you’re at the shrine and ‘early’. It’s all very traditional looking, but you know they pump funerals like this out as a service just like anything else. Even the sacred gets packaged up, commodified, and resold. It’s still comforting to be here, expensive or not. Mom insisted on something nice and NCPD is footing part of the bill. Everyone else should be arriving soon, next ten minutes or so. A few strangers linger about here and there in the gardens.

>You’ve always been open to belief in the supernatural. Maybe it was just dad talking about “daemons” and other net lingo too much at a young age, but you’ve never found it hard to believe there’s something beyond the material world.
>You share a sort of half-belief in the supernatural that isn’t too uncommon for people in Night City. Spooky shit happens sometimes, it’s as good an explanation as any.
>You don’t buy into a bit of it, but you don’t begrudge people who do.

>>5832650
>You share a sort of half-belief in the supernatural that isn’t too uncommon for people in Night City. Spooky shit happens sometimes, it’s as good an explanation as any.

>>5832650
>You’ve always been open to belief in the supernatural. Maybe it was just dad talking about “daemons” and other net lingo too much at a young age, but you’ve never found it hard to believe there’s something beyond the material world.

>>5832650
>>You share a sort of half-belief in the supernatural that isn’t too uncommon for people in Night City. Spooky shit happens sometimes, it’s as good an explanation as any.

>>5832650
>You’ve always been open to belief in the supernatural. Maybe it was just dad talking about “daemons” and other net lingo too much at a young age, but you’ve never found it hard to believe there’s something beyond the material world.

>>5832650

>You don’t buy into a bit of it, but you don’t begrudge people who do.

It’s all just bytes and bolts, but you don’t blame people for hoping for more. You’re too jaded - you know that there’s no real escape from the grubby, gonked-out world. You’re either in it… or you’re not.

>>5832650
>>You don’t buy into a bit of it, but you don’t begrudge people who do.

>>5832650
>>You share a sort of half-belief in the supernatural that isn’t too uncommon for people in Night City. Spooky shit happens sometimes, it’s as good an explanation as any.

>>5832650
>You’ve always been open to belief in the supernatural. Maybe it was just dad talking about “daemons” and other net lingo too much at a young age, but you’ve never found it hard to believe there’s something beyond the material world.

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One more hour for votes.

>>5832650
>>You’ve always been open to belief in the supernatural. Maybe it was just dad talking about “daemons” and other net lingo too much at a young age, but you’ve never found it hard to believe there’s something beyond the material world.

>>5832650
>You’ve always been open to belief in the supernatural. Maybe it was just dad talking about “daemons” and other net lingo too much at a young age, but you’ve never found it hard to believe there’s something beyond the material world.

>>5832650
>You share a sort of half-belief in the supernatural that isn’t too uncommon for people in Night City. Spooky shit happens sometimes, it’s as good an explanation as any.

File: At the fringes.png (639 KB, 1200x1200)

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Back a bit later than I thought I'd be.

>>5832762
>>5832719
>>5832677
>>5832662
>>5832652
Open.

>>5832651
>>5832660
>>5832674
>>5832768
Half-belief.

>>5832670
>>5832669 (very flavorful, anon)
Don't buy it.

Open wins. Writing.

Conveniently packaged and sold or not, you’ll treat this shrine with respect - and not just for mom or dad’s sake, or even just a general sense of common decency. That’s there, true, but as you walk through well kept grounds you feel something more to it, something genuinely sacred bleeding through between all the lanterns and candles… and the souvenir shop. Okay, the shop’s not ideal, but maybe spirits have to make a living too, neh? Even the gods have businesses, employees so to say, but it’s not like it is for humans. Not supposed to be. Dad told you some stories like that when you were little, even if you know he never quite believed - spirits of the land, of animals, of all kinds of things large and small, lurking monsters and wandering gods. Between that and how he spoke about the net, how could you not end up believing in something? Of course there’s something more out there.

…So who’d your family piss off in the other world to end up like this?

You cross your arms, unsettled briefly by the idea, and take a small walk about the well maintained shrine. One of the attendants, a young Jomon looking Japanese man with a few gang tattoos visible even at the edges of his robe, greets you politely as you enter further inside; a flash of your temporary membership card turns his initial polite suspicion into purchased respect - or maybe it’s genuine, hard to tell.

“The other should be here in the next ten or fifteen minutes,” You inform him, but the flash of his blue cyber eyes clues you in that he must already be checking the schedule on his own.

“Of course, young sir. Do you require anything else while you wait for the others?”

“I have more than enough already, thank you.” You reply respectfully, eliciting a small smile from him. Soon you’re alone once more, taking in the calming atmosphere of the shrine, feeling less sullen, less angry.

File: Shrine courtyard.png (1.85 MB, 1920x1080)

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>>5832849

After he walks off you take a closer look around the shrine, at a few of the others there to make little offerings. It’s a Shinto shrine, nominally, but the funeral ceremony is going to be a mix of Buddhist and Shinto rites… nothing unusual there.

What is unusually is the tall dark haired woman at the far end of the courtyard. The reds and whites of her implants are just as bright and stark, the gold of her hands shining clear in candlelight - but she’s dressed differently, less like a ganger, even her hair is down. It’s a different enough look to make you nearly miss that her combat legs have been swapped for more normal models. Even with the changes, you couldn’t mistake her for anyone else in Night City; it’s that Tyger Claw woman from New Years. Or a damned close doppelganger, you suppose, sometimes off the shelf chrome makes people look almost like twins.

What’s she doing here though? A dark haired young girl, maybe ten or eleven years old, is by her side. They’re talking but too far to hear.

Should you talk to her? This isn’t the place to make a scene, but that’s not what you intend. A few words might be all you need to see if she recognizes you. She probably won’t. You’re not a memorable face, no chrome or tattoos, nothing special at all.

>Just keep your distance, Vicky and everyone else will be here soon. No need to interrupt a dangerous stranger at the shrine.
>Approach. You can’t get a calmer situation than this, better a shrine than some dark alley - You might never see here again.
>Write-in.

>>5832851
>Approach. You can’t get a calmer situation than this, better a shrine than some dark alley - You might never see here again.

>>5832851
>Approach. You can’t get a calmer situation than this, better a shrine than some dark alley - You might never see here again.

>>5832851
>Approach. You can’t get a calmer situation than this, better a shrine than some dark alley - You might never see here again.

We should probably just ask if she's here for the funeral too-? (Although, I'm not entirely sure how obvious that is). If she is, maybe try to find out how she knew dad.

>>5832851

>Approach. You can’t get a calmer situation than this, better a shrine than some dark alley - You might never see here again.

“You could have worked faster, you know.”

>>5832851
>Approach. You can’t get a calmer situation than this, better a shrine than some dark alley - You might never see here again.

>>5832851
>>Approach. You can’t get a calmer situation than this, better a shrine than some dark alley - You might never see here again.

>>5832855
>>5832858
>>5832866
>>5832889
>>5832892
>>5832897
Approach. Writing.

>>5832851
>Just keep your distance, Vicky and everyone else will be here soon. No need to interrupt a dangerous stranger at the shrine.

File: View from north oak.jpg (189 KB, 1920x1080)

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>>5832855
>>5832858
>>5832866
>>5832889
>>5832892
>>5832897

With thoughts of your father, you walk calmly across the shrine’s courtyard toward the red woman and young girl. It has to be her. Maybe she knows something more about what happened, you still haven’t gotten a story you’re satisfied with. Too many strange coincidences. Any detes are better than none, however small the chance.

The light crunching sound of your footsteps on the neatly maintained gravel draws the woman’s attention at once, her conversation with the girl falling to a final few whispers you barely hear.

“...Of course it is said that all things are not what they appear.” The young girl finishes, looking very proud of herself, as if she’d just finished reciting a carefully memorized script. Turning, she sees you first, or cares to act on it first - and taps lightly at the tall woman’s cyberleg, before greeting you with an innocent smile. Cute kid, she reminds you a little of one of your friends from grade school. Haven’t seen her in years. Simpler times.

The Tyger Claw woman’s dark eyes narrow in suspicion, a soft blue light flashing within them - A scan? Her expression relaxes to something like amused curiosity, the tense body language of a killer ready to strike melting away at once.

“Hello - Are you here for the funeral?” You ask politely, genuinely unsure and still wary of the chromed up woman. You saw what those mantis arms can do, how fast they deploy, how they slice right through titanium plating and sear flesh; a thin layer of beauty hiding sheer bloody terror.

The woman shakes her head, a smile appearing to match the girl’s but not at all innocent, “No, not today. You look… very familiar~”

She has a nice voice, far more pleasant than when you heard her arguing on the holo - firm, confident. A little playful? W-what’s with that? Your heartbeat quickens.

>”NC feels small sometimes, doesn’t it? We were stuck on the same NCART car on new years, during that storm - My name is Kai.” Complete truth but frame it innocently. She might just volunteer things on her own.
>”Names Kai - You were at Kabuki marketplace on new years. Messy roll up job.” Try not to say it too accusatively, this isn’t an interrogation or criticism; maybe it’ll pique her interest further - how could you possibly know?
>”Thought you looked familiar too, maybe one of my dad's friends …Here to make offerings then?” Avoid names, just talk for a moment. Weird coincidence that she’s here for something other than the funeral. Do the Tyger Claws run this shrine or something?
>Write-in.

Apologies for not giving the normal hour warning before closing voting earlier, wanted to get one more post in tonight.

>>5832995
>”Thought you looked familiar too, maybe one of my dad's friends …Here to make offerings then?” Avoid names, just talk for a moment. Weird coincidence that she’s here for something other than the funeral. Do the Tyger Claws run this shrine or something?
Are we gonna have more character defining things? Or was our build predetermined?

>>5832995
>”Names Kai - You were at Kabuki marketplace on new years. Messy roll up job.” Try not to say it too accusatively, this isn’t an interrogation or criticism; maybe it’ll

>>5833006
There will be more to pick from, it isn't done. It will be a long time before anything like a build is established, that'll be a fairly clear path if anons really dig into one thing. There's plenty of room to dabble and check stuff out.

>>5832995
>”Thought you looked familiar too, maybe one of my dad's friends …Here to make offerings then?” Avoid names, just talk for a moment. Weird coincidence that she’s here for something other than the funeral. Do the Tyger Claws run this shrine or something?

>>5832995
>”Names Kai - You were at Kabuki marketplace on new years. Messy roll up job.” Try not to say it too accusatively, this isn’t an interrogation or criticism; maybe it’ll pique her interest further - how could you possibly know?

I feel like the innocent option would only make her suspicious

>>5832995
>”Thought you looked familiar too, maybe one of my dad's friends …Here to make offerings then?” Avoid names, just talk for a moment. Weird coincidence that she’s here for something other than the funeral. Do the Tyger Claws run this shrine or something?

>>5832995
>”Names Kai - You were at Kabuki marketplace on new years. Messy roll up job.” Try not to say it too accusatively, this isn’t an interrogation or criticism; maybe it’ll pique her interest further - how could you possibly know?

>>5832995
>”Thought you looked familiar too, maybe one of my dad's friends …Here to make offerings then?” Avoid names, just talk for a moment. Weird coincidence that she’s here for something other than the funeral. Do the Tyger Claws run this shrine or something?

>>5832995
>>”Names Kai - You were at Kabuki marketplace on new years. Messy roll up job.” Try not to say it too accusatively, this isn’t an interrogation or criticism; maybe it’ll pique her interest further - how could you possibly know?

>>5832995

>”Names Kai - You were at Kabuki marketplace on new years. Messy roll up job.” Try not to say it too accusatively, this isn’t an interrogation or criticism; maybe it’ll pique her interest further - how could you possibly know?

But I INSIST that we also ask:

"Where did you take the garbage, ma'am? I need to know it was destroyed properly."

>>5833158
Changing to
>”NC feels small sometimes, doesn’t it? We were stuck on the same NCART car on new years, during that storm - My name is Kai.” Complete truth but frame it innocently. She might just volunteer things on her own.
I only voted for that one because I saw that the votes were alternating and didn't want to break the pattern

>>5832995
>”NC feels small sometimes, doesn’t it? We were stuck on the same NCART car on new years, during that storm - My name is Kai.” Complete truth but frame it innocently. She might just volunteer things on her own.

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>>5833193
>>5833182
Innocent truth.

>>5833175
>>5833168
>>5833078
>>5833009
Kabuki confrontation.

>>5833159
>>5833065
>>5833152
>>5833006
Avoid names, feel things out.

Got a tie between kabuki and feeling things out more carefully. I'll give it one hour for a tie breaker. Need to eat breakfast anyways, timing works out.

>>5832995
>>”Names Kai - You were at Kabuki marketplace on new years. Messy roll up job.” Try not to say it too accusatively, this isn’t an interrogation or criticism; maybe it’ll pique her interest further - how could you possibly know?

>>5832995
I wanted >”NC feels small sometimes, doesn’t it? We were stuck on the same NCART car on new years, during that storm - My name is Kai.” Complete truth but frame it innocently. She might just volunteer things on her own.

but I'll go
>”Thought you looked familiar too, maybe one of my dad's friends …Here to make offerings then?” Avoid names, just talk for a moment. Weird coincidence that she’s here for something other than the funeral. Do the Tyger Claws run this shrine or something?

>Messy roll up job.
Don't say that shit, there's a kid right there. It might just piss her off.

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>>5833175
>>5833168
>>5833078
>>5833009
>>5833253
Kabuki.

>>5833159
>>5833065
>>5833152
>>5833006
>>5833273
Avoid names.

Nova, another tie. I'll give fifteen more minutes for a tie breaker, if there isn't a winner the dice gods AI invaders from beyond the black wall will decide.

>>5832995
>>”Names Kai - You were at Kabuki marketplace on new years. Messy roll up job.” Try not to say it too accusatively, this isn’t an interrogation or criticism; maybe it’ll pique her interest further - how could you possibly know?

I agree with >>5833273 though, drop that Messy roll up job. part

>>5833273
>>5833303
But if drop that part, then it just becomes the other one.

If both of you change to innocent truth, like you apparently wanted, it should win by one

Actually no, it would lead to another tie, fuck.
Anyway, she is going to be pissed if she is confronted with the kid here, seems she didn't want her to get involved when we heard her talking on the phone.

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>>5833175
>>5833168
>>5833078
>>5833009
>>5833253
>>5833302
Kabuki wins, I'll soften it a bit though. Writing.

>>5833311
That's just the first line of dialogue, it doesn't need to be quite so directly said to get the main idea across.

>>5833317
I'd say keep it and punish those guys for thinking they're talking to a mindless npc.

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“Names Kai,” You introduce yourself as confidently as you can manage, thoughts still drifting to the woman’s concealed mantis blades. Best to handle this with some tact, you’re not sure what her relationship with the girl is, “You were at Kabuki marketplace on new years, during the… storm.”

Her smile fades a degree, red lips pursing tighter as she looks you over from head to toe, “I end up in Kabuki from time to time. Who are you with?”

“Myself.” You reply truthfully, trying to stand firm as the chromed woman leans forward a little, strands of her dark hair hanging loose as she inches closer into reach, “I had a good view of the marketplace from above, saw all of it. …You don’t mind talking here, do you?”

“He’s not one of my uncle’s guys, Em, or my dad's.” The young girl notes curiously before the woman can answer - the girl is still relaxed, but her words send the Tyger Claw rigid. Shit, that’s bad, really bad.

“I do mind.” ‘Em’ replies coldly to you, that initial playfulness vanishing. One gold plated cyberarm gently guides the girl to step behind her, shepherding her out of direct view, “You have ten seconds - What do you want, ‘Kai’?”

“Just to talk. My dad was in the marketplace at the same time. …He didn’t come home after.” You answer her, voice sinking as you deflate slightly, “I saw you there and thought you might know something, no ones given me a straight story. Detes are too messy, didn’t make sense.”

“That’s it?...” ‘Em’ questions, looking past you and along the perimeter of the shrine, her gaze sweeping over the attendants and the few other people there to make offerings.

You nod earnestly. …And she believes you?

“Then you can go.” ‘Em’ states, waving you off with a gold hand.

>>5833385

“Come on, talk to him.” The young girl insists, slightly miffed as she steps out once more, sliding out and away from Em's protective hand, ”Don’t be mean, Em. I’m sorry about your dad, mister Kai.”

“Thank you-” You start to speak, but the two of them are quickly devolving into an argument and you decide, probably wisely, to stay out of it for the time being.

Em’s face flashes with annoyance as she shakes her head, “Don’t tell me how to do my job, remember why I’m here.”

“You have to listen to me!” The girl stomps her foot, growing angrier, her tantrum beginning to disturb the quiet of the shrine.

“Don’t push it, Sarah.” Em grits her teeth.

“I’ll tell.”

“Agh, fuck! Fine.” Em turns back to face you, dark eyes closing for a second as she calms herself before speaking, “Lucky break, she likes you. Who was your dad? Can’t give out anything confidential, I’m not going to torpedo my rep over some whining brat.”

“Hey!” Sarah protests indignantly, “I saw that look you gave him!”

Really weird dynamic between these two. They don’t look related, but it’s hard to tell with Em’s chrome.

>”...He was an NCPD netrunner, that MaxTac psycho got him early in the fight. He’s not still kicking, is he?” The psycho was seriously torn to ribbons when the sumo guy carried him off, hopefully he didn’t make it. That the psycho got flatlined is most important.
>”Dad was a badge, psycho got him. Like I said, none of the detes make sense. Those Trauma AV’s just circled, and dad wasn’t a gonk that’d go out like that… There has to be something else. I’m looking for anything you can share.” Figuring out what the hell happened is most important.
>Write-in.

>>5833387
>”...He was an NCPD netrunner, that MaxTac psycho got him early in the fight. He’s not still kicking, is he?” The psycho was seriously torn to ribbons when the sumo guy carried him off, hopefully he didn’t make it. That the psycho got flatlined is most important.

>inb4 our dad WAS the real cyberpsycho

>>5833387
>”Dad was a badge, psycho got him. Like I said, none of the detes make sense. Those Trauma AV’s just circled, and dad wasn’t a gonk that’d go out like that… There has to be something else. I’m looking for anything you can share.” Figuring out what the hell happened is most important.
Our dad died. Why?

>>5833387
>Write-in.
>"NCPD netrunner. They say the psycho got him early, but he died of getting his brain fried. I know he wouldn't rush ahead, he wouldn't made to lieutenant doing that. I saw you and the big guy drag the fucker away instead of finishing him off and cashing in on any bounty. Nothing makes sense."

>>5833398

Supporting.

Also, the little girl is the Tyger Claw princess, maybe?

>>5833398
Yeah, yeah. I'm gonna support this one, because getting angry, wishing for death, cursing in front of a little girl, and insulting her now agitated bodyguard is always the best option.

>>5833403
Fine, i'll change to
>”Dad was a badge, psycho got him. Like I said, none of the detes make sense. Those Trauma AV’s just circled, and dad wasn’t a gonk that’d go out like that… There has to be something else. I’m looking for anything you can share.” Figuring out what the hell happened is most important.
No need to be passive aggressive about it

>>5833403
I also don't see the insulting her or wishing for death parts, care to explain?

>>5833411
Or the getting angry part even, although maybe the calling the psycho a fucker gave that impression? I could see it as being an accusation, since it mentions her dragging him off, was that what you meant as insulting her?
>>5833405
>>5833398
Forgot to reply to my own vote about the change

>>5833387
>”Dad was a badge, psycho got him. Like I said, none of the detes make sense. Those Trauma AV’s just circled, and dad wasn’t a gonk that’d go out like that… There has to be something else. I’m looking for anything you can share.” Figuring out what the hell happened is most important.

>>5833411
>I saw you and the big guy drag the fucker away
>instead of finishing him off and cashing in on any bounty.

You told her, to her face, that she should have killed the guy, without knowing why, what, or if she did. You then proceeded to tell her how to do her job, what she should be doing, and questioning her motives/orders, like you know her or are her boss.

I would be insulted if some know-nothing punk kid came up to me while I'm working and told me how to run my own business.

>>5833417
I meant that it's what was normally expected to happen during a cyberpsycho attack, so there was something more going on.
But that way to interpret it does make sense, specially after she told Sarah not tell her how to do her job, so it likely would be the way she interprets it
Now that you got the sarcasm out of your system and is discussing the quest, will you vote for what you actually want?

>>5833417
Is easy enough to explain he zeroed our dad and were still pissed about it. Answers that can help us put him truly to rest, given we're superstitious.

Having an in with NCPD isn't bad either. It shouldn't be hard for us to get a job with them within the next 2 weeks.

>>5833387
>”...He was an NCPD netrunner, that MaxTac psycho got him early in the fight. He’s not still kicking, is he?” The psycho was seriously torn to ribbons when the sumo guy carried him off, hopefully he didn’t make it. That the psycho got flatlined is most important.

>>5833421
>Having an in with NCPD isn't bad either. It shouldn't be hard for us to get a job with them within the next 2 weeks.
You're most likely correct. Wouldn't be anything grander than being a desk jokey/paper pusher (assuming any kind of paperwork is still done, don't actually know alot about the Cyberpunk universe), since the officers we're familiar with will not give us a job with any kind of risk or danger to it.

One more hour for votes.

>>5833387
> ”...He was an NCPD netrunner, that MaxTac psycho got him early in the fight. He’s not still kicking, is he?” The psycho was seriously torn to ribbons when the sumo guy carried him off, hopefully he didn’t make it. That the psycho got flatlined is most important.

>>5833387
>>”Dad was a badge, psycho got him. Like I said, none of the detes make sense. Those Trauma AV’s just circled, and dad wasn’t a gonk that’d go out like that… There has to be something else. I’m looking for anything you can share.” Figuring out what the hell happened is most important.

we have no ic knowledge that cyberpsychosis can be induced artificially do we?

>>5833387
>>”...He was an NCPD netrunner, that MaxTac psycho got him early in the fight. He’s not still kicking, is he?” The psycho was seriously torn to ribbons when the sumo guy carried him off, hopefully he didn’t make it. That the psycho got flatlined is most important.

>>5833465
None, but the causes of cyberpsychosis are pretty mysterious to most people anyways.

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>>5833477
>>5833438
>>5833427
>>5833393
Make sure he was flatlined.

>>5833465
>>5833415
>>5833405
>>5833395
Question everything.

>>5833400
Write-in.

>>5833403
Pretty sure this is just sarcasm and not a vote.

We have a tie between the two main options unless I've miscounted. I'll give it half an hour for a tie breaker.

>>5833387
>”Dad was a badge, psycho got him. Like I said, none of the detes make sense. Those Trauma AV’s just circled, and dad wasn’t a gonk that’d go out like that… There has to be something else. I’m looking for anything you can share.” Figuring out what the hell happened is most important.

>>5833512
>>5833465
>>5833415
>>5833405
>>5833395
Wins. Writing.

>>5833497
I'll break the tie

”...He was an NCPD netrunner, that MaxTac psycho got him early in the fight. He’s not still kicking, is he?” The psycho was seriously torn to ribbons when the sumo guy carried him off, hopefully he didn’t make it. That the psycho got flatlined is most important.

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“My dad was a badge,” You explain to Em, half in thought over how strange her interactions with Sarah were, and half on the anger and questions surrounding your father’s death, “Cyberpsycho got him - Like I said, none of the detes make sense. Those trauma AV’s just circled, and dad wasn’t a gonk that’d go out like that… There has to be something else. I’m looking for anything you can share.”

“A badge?” Em considers that, lips still tight with displeasure, “NCPD were all flatlined or behind barricades by the time I got to the AO, met up with a choom and we went in half blind. I didn’t get a single byte on how the cops went down, got called in on the holo to handle a bloodbath in Kabuki and had to catch an NCART. Didn’t know more until I was out of the car…”

She falls silent and her dark cybereyes flash blue once more, that thin smile from earlier returning for a few seconds, “So that’s where I know you from.”

“I… Yeah, that was me. Small city sometimes.” No point in denying it, even if you’re not exactly proud of how nervous she made you with just some looks during that ride - ganger women don’t usually act so weirdly interested, and everything you’ve ever been told said it’s supposed to be very bad news if happens, some kind of trap that ends in getting mugged, “I was heading back to Kabuki to meet with my dad to watch the fireworks. We’d had a fight earlier and I ran off… It was a gonk move.”

Em’s expression softens further at that last part, a tiny glimmer of sympathy shining through, “...How’d he go out?”

“NCPD said it was biofeedback, but he was a good netrunner. He’d been doing it for years.”

“A vet NCPD netrunner? From that MaxTac psycho? I didn’t see any self-IC shards or a deck in him, and I got a… close look.” Em doesn’t sound convinced by the story either, “I could have missed it though, it wasn’t the job. Send me your commcode. I don’t do charity work, but I know a Media, more of a Fixer now, that might be able to point you to someone that can help.”

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>>5833665

“Commcode? I thought you didn’t want to talk to him.” Sarah teases as you swipe your contact profile over to Em; her eyes flash, confirming the transfer. A second passes before a contact for one ‘Regina Jones’ is forward to you. Em's info follows a second later.

//New contact: Regina Jones.//
//New contact: Em.//

“Regina was looking for more clients, Sarah. It’s just biz.” Em waves the smug young girl’s comment off with a gold hand, her cold demeanor snapping back sharply, “Regina specializes in this kind of work, Kai. She has a good stable of runners to call up.”

“She can help me work through this?” You question hopefully.

“Just bring enough scratch and she’ll find someone to snoop around...” Em stops again, reading you like a book, the hopelessness of your situation settling in again as soon as money got brought up, “You’re really in the hole, aren’t you?”

“I can’t afford a fixer right now.” It’s not quite true, but close enough - the money you do have is already earmarked for helping mom. It probably won’t even cover a whole month in the clinic.

“That’s the end of the line then, unless… No, that’s it.” Em shakes her head, “No one does charity work.”

“Did you zero the psycho?” You ask, hoping to find some silver lining. It's not your main concern now, but you'd feel a little better if he ate it. Or maybe a lot better.

“No." Em dashes your hope with a single word, "He was barely holding together last I saw. Tossed him off to some soldiers who’re still in the Claws. Not my biz after that, no idea where he went or what happened. …That everything then? Normally I’d charge for this. A lot.”

“You won’t though.” Sarah insists, totally unbothered by the conversation and inducing an aggravated eye roll from Em.

>”Any idea why those Trauma AV’s were just orbiting the market? I’ve never heard of that happening before.” She has to know more, right?
>”Unless what? What were you going to say?” You’ll take nearly anything at this point.
>”Thanks for the help, Em. And you too, Sarah.” Leave politely; that little girl saved you a lot of grief, eddies, and maybe your head. People will be arriving for the funeral soon, best to be ready for them.
>Write-in.

>>5833674
>”Thanks for the help, Em. And you too, Sarah.” Leave politely; that little girl saved you a lot of grief, eddies, and maybe your head. People will be arriving for the funeral soon, best to be ready for them.
We know the psycho isn't dead and have a potential lead. I'd rather not push Kai's luck

>>5833674
>”Thanks for the help, Em. And you too, Sarah.” Leave politely; that little girl saved you a lot of grief, eddies, and maybe your head. People will be arriving for the funeral soon, best to be ready for them.

>>5833674
>”Thanks for the help, Em. And you too, Sarah.” Leave politely; that little girl saved you a lot of grief, eddies, and maybe your head. People will be arriving for the funeral soon, best to be ready for them.

>>5833674
>”Unless what? What were you going to say?” You’ll take nearly anything at this point.

>>5833674
>>”Thanks for the help, Em. And you too, Sarah.” Leave politely; that little girl saved you a lot of grief, eddies, and maybe your head. People will be arriving for the funeral soon, best to be ready for them.

>>5833674

>”Thanks for the help, Em. And you too, Sarah.” Leave politely; that little girl saved you a lot of grief, eddies, and maybe your head. People will be arriving for the funeral soon, best to be ready for them.

Ambulances were on hold, police slaughtered. What if the cyber psycho was just a decoy for something else going down in Kabuki?

One more hour for votes.

>>5833674
>”Thanks for the help, Em. And you too, Sarah.” Leave politely; that little girl saved you a lot of grief, eddies, and maybe your head. People will be arriving for the funeral soon, best to be ready for them.

>>5833680
I'll change to
>”Unless what? What were you going to say?” You’ll take nearly anything at this point.
I'm curious

>>5833773
>>5833682
Unless?

>>5833761
>>5833720
>>5833683
>>5833681
>>5833678
Thanks.

Thanks wins. Writing.

>>5833837
Eddies on "unless" meaning we do some work.

She's right this info is high value. We owe her a favor.

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“Thanks for the help, Em.” You say politely, not wanting to abuse their hospitality - or at least Sarah’s - further, “And thank you as well, Sarah.”

“You are very welcome, mister Kai. I’ll offer a prayer for your father.” Sarah answers with utmost politeness, even giving a small bow - good manners for a kid that was throwing a tantrum just a few minutes ago, but you certainly won’t hold that against her.

Em’s farewell isn’t half as formal, barely even a farewell at all, “Maybe I’ll see you around, Kai.”

As you walk off, mentally preparing for the somber ceremony, you catch the faintest bit of conversation between Em and Sarah, carried to you by the wind over North Oak’s hills.

“...ou …don …ike …im?”

“People ...ithout …chrome. …are ...are …ese days. …pathetic …ost …puppy.”

“...ou …ink …ute?~”

“...hut it …ou …brat.”

>>5833916

A little later, shortly after the funeral.

They said you’d feel more at peace when the funeral finished. You do, but the hurt is still there, waiting. It probably won’t ever go away entirely, not while you have question left unanswered, while that psycho might still be out there somewhere. Maybe it won’t feel any better even after all that, everyones heard stories about how unfulfilling vengeance is in the end… but there’s plenty were it is, and it feels more right than anything in your life.

The ceremony was pleasant, hopefully enough to see dad off properly. Mom was crying the whole time, a half blurred hologram projected next to you by a machine brought out by the attendants. It was the closest she could get to attending in person, and even through flashing scan lines and the pixelated image you could tell how hollowed out this has all left her. You’ll talk more, you’ll call everyday if you can, but she’s already disconnected to get her rest. It’s late over there, and she definitely needs it.

That’s all behind you now, everything wrapped up. Some of the guests are already beginning to leave - you’ve already exchanged a few stories with dad’s NCPD pals, but there’s a chance to speak with one or two people for longer, maybe find out if they know anything.

>You’ll speak with Vicky. You know she’s been looking around some on her own. Less aggressively than you, dad was just a good friend, but she’s actually inside the NCPD - that’s a serious leg up. …And you never know if she’ll still be around tomorrow, it’s a rough job going on patrol in Night City.

>You’ll speak with the heavily chromed man wearing a suit that for some reason you think looks more like a uniform than formalwear. He’s neuralware, a lot of it, most of the back of his head a matte black synthetic material. You have no idea who he is, but he kept to the back for most of the funeral.

>You’ll speak with the really leathery over-tanned biker looking guy military cyberarms and a mullet. A nomad? You don’t know much about nomads other than that they bring a ton of stuff into Night City, legal or otherwise, and run in clans. He was standing almost as far back as the man in the suit, but seemed much more at ease with being here.

>>5833919
Part of the second voting options should read: "He's got neuralware, a lot of it, most the back of his head is a matte black synthetic material."