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About This Game

There are cracks in the world. They’re slender, dark, and often cold, but they are the only things that keep you hidden. Keep you alive. They are the shadows of the world, and they are where you live. You are a shadowrunner, thriving in the margins, doing the jobs no one else can. You have no office, no permanent home, no background to check. You are whatever you make yourself. Will you seek justice? Sow seeds of chaos? Sell out to the highest bidder? It’s up to you, but this much is certain—if you do nothing, the streets will eat you alive. You can survive - even flourish - as long as you do what it takes. Sacrifice part of your soul for bleeding-edge gear. Push the limits of your will learning new and dangerous magic. Wire yourself into the Matrix, making your mind one with screaming streams of data. It’ll cost you something - everything does - but you can make it worth the price. Welcome to the Sixth World.

Game System

Aberrant

Status

Active
  1. What's new in this game
  2. Jenny was having problems. Problems other than a rising tide of rats, that is. The cellar stank, even compared to most of the Sprawl and especially the Barrens. And seeing as her sense of smell and taste were so inextricably linked, it didn't help to breathe through her mouth, even shallowly - it just meant she was tasting the damned cellar as well as smelling it. She was thinking she should have taken the assassination job rather than agree to this... this indignity. She was also thinking she was going to bathe for a solid day after this job, in some of that strong floral bath oil that normally made her sneeze but right now seemed like a balm. Stupid two-legs and their stupid squatting over a dirty water supply and this dank, stench-filled cellar filled with bad astral vibes and walls of vermin - and to top it all off, the fragging wiz-lady's drek-polluted elemental was sloshing forward to add it's own unique brand of stank to the whole sordid business. No, Red Jenny was not in a good mood. In fact, she was cursing in gutter Russian, her voice taking on a resonant growling timbre that echoed in the gloom of the cellar as the nasty, squirming biting things surged around her legs. She could feel the insides of her skin itching as fur clamored to sprout, but instead snapped her Ruger back into it's holster. Whereas Echo had climbed, Jenny practically ran up the hallway wall to just below ceiling level, fingers seeking chinks and gaps in the shoddy masonry to anchor herself. The Stank-Elemental could clean out the vermin. There was no way she was going to try and fight a swarm with knives and a six-shooter. Stupid two-legs.
  3. “Cazador del’agua”, Jadzia called out to the spirit as she tried with all her might to summon enough of her will to grasp on to what little bit of mana was not corrupted to call on the wind, instead of the water, “strike down de rats without hurtin’ me or my fellow hunters!”. She knew she had control of it, so far, and that it would be eager to hunt. But she felt it was also wise to couch her words carefully either way. Focusing her will, she called out to the last gusts of the wind that had come in when the door closed, a breath of fresh air. In so doing, she felt her body become lighter and a wisp of clouds emerged from around her feet as she lifted out of the water. It was inconvenient, hanging hunched over in mid-air against the low ceiling, but it beat being covered in crawling, biting rats by miles. The polluted water spirit seemed ponderous, laden with dead and bloated rats, but it was swift in the water, and its watery grasp could hold and drown any number of small rats still.
  4. Actually, in her human shape Jenny has an initiative of 17. Base of 10 plus 7. 20 would be in her feline form. Which given she's knee deep in vermin, might become a factor soon. There's only so much stinky, dark, foul-tasting bullshit a tigress can take. Anywho, Jadzia is up next.
  5. There were a lot of things Echo had been trained to deal with in her time doing dirty deeds. Stealth work. Wet work. Blackmail. Extortion. A real 'laundry' list. A laundry room full of rats attacking her was not on that list. Having a body full of augmentations and some of the best gear you could buy all over your person didn't make being covered in squirmy, squeaking, clawy bitey things any less horrible. It went down deep in the brain to where the monkey lived. So confronted with this, Echo chose to get the frak outta there. Though she did at least have the presence of mind to get out in a novel directions. A quick signal to her personal network caused the straps of so-called 'gecko tape' incorporated into the undersides of the fingers and bottom palm of her gloves to activate. And then she climbed up the hallway wall, pulling her legs out of the tide of rats until she was nestled up in the crease where ceiling met wall. There she got a better grip with both hands and started slamming her hips and legs against the ceiling, trying to shake as many rats off as she could. Just needed to get some breathing space, then she'd be able to THINK again and try to figure out how to clear a room of rats when she was out of god-drekking-damn grenades. Always see your fixers before a run, folks. Even an 'easy' one. What was she, an amateur? Rats.
  6. With our current initiatives, poast order looks like this: Echo: 11+3d6 (22), Jenny: 13+2d6 (20), Jadzia: 7+3d6 (18), Piper: ??? Given the comment on concentration and clear thought while being swarmed with rats, my action at the end might be something like asking the spirit to use Confusion on the rats. Elemental combat magics on the rats swarming over us (while in the water with us) sound like they're out, and probably will have some pretty bad side effects.
  7. The squeek of a few rats drew their attention away from the wretched spirit. Jadzia's heart went out to the malformed creature; this was not what she wanted, but for now was deigned to at least repurpose this creature in the hopes her deeds here could purify this place. It started as two or three rats, running past like the ship they were on was sinking. The it was seven to ten... The nervousness crept into all of them as the wall of eyes that consistently remained just outside their range of vision suddenly collapsed in on itself in an avalanche of bodies and tails and high pitched squeeks... hundreds, if not thousands of rats swarmed the hallway like a deluge of vermin caught in a current... Piper screamed a short, shrill shriek as within a matter of moments everyone was up to their knees in rats... and the 'water' was rising as they crawled, skitterd, climbed and became tangled in hair and clothing.
  8. Mycroft grimaced, both at the sounds of the woman being assaulted and the likely probability they weren't the only ones looking for Crowne. "I don't make a habit of carrying lockpicks with me. If you don't, either we can bust down this door, or knock on it and pretend we're cops - or rather something more likely to show up. Don't know if this sleeze will panic or try to play it off like she slipped in the shower."
  9. Mycroft's persona sifted through the Seattle directory as Chunin sped through the radio stations in his car, waiting for the ol' dwarf to finish his thing. He'd settled for the 'Punk Goes Pop' station not long before Mycroft came back to the Real. "Well," Mycroft started. "That was interesting." "It was, yeah," Chunin nodded. "Why would anybody want to remake a punk version of 'Chrome Palace'? It's a horri-" "Not the song," the dwarf rolled his eyes. "You idgit. I found her place, and she has a restraining order out on him." "Oooo," Chunin smiled. "Juicy." Mycroft put the car in gear and they were off to meet with Mrs. Fisher. It wasn't far, only about a twenty minutes drive in Seattle evening traffic and Mycroft only had to reprimand the human idiot twice on messing with his radio. Laura Fisher wasn't exactly rolling in nuyen, in fact her apartment was in one the slummier parts of the downtown area, not too far from downtown proper where all the rich elves could look down on her neighborhood and thank their stars they were elves, and rich, and better than everyone else. Mycroft didn't see the harm in bringing up his side arm, tucked casually under his coat. Chunin didn't appear to have any weapons, save for a combat knife tucked upside down underneath the vest he was wearing. It wasn't a good neighborhood, but thankfully they hadn't ran into trouble with gangs yet tonight. The two men entered the building and made their way up the stairs since (surprise) the elevator was out. They'd both been in low-income buildings like this plenty of times, with trash strewn about the hallways and every wall was tagged in either luminescent paint or ARO tags displaying all manner of programmable art. The image two framed animated image of the Renraku logo sodomizing what appeared to be the entire city of Seattle, Chunin thought was particularly tasteful. "I don't know," they heard from the door that was supposed to be Laura's. The voice was muffled but seemed feminine. They both hear the loud smack that came next. A second voice was muffled through the door. "I can do this all night, lady. You better start remembering something."
  10. Jenny had frozen in place as the horror had risen from the water, feeling her hackles raising and resisting the urge to attack both the corrupt spirit and the mage who had summoned it. Once it was plain that Jadzia hadn't planned on raising such a thing, and had it under tenuous control, the weretigress grumbled deep in her chest and focused her attention on the red eyes ahead. "Send your pet to play." she growled at Jadzia. "Let spirit fight spirit." Drekking mages.
  11. The Shaman put her fingers to where her lips would be behind the mask and blinked one of the lowlight lenses of her mask slowly at Echo with one eye. "Shhh, calm." she glanced back at it slowly, then back at Echo. Her voice was gentle, smooth - but under tension like a piano wire. "Show no fear. Give it no reason to find insult." She too was worried by the sudden appearance of what appeared to be a quite darker manifestation of form than she had expected. "I called it not, wanted it not. But it's what came." she gently placed herself between the Spirit and the other runners. "Sending it back is hard, it wants to stay. Wants to hunt. Best to let it hunt, tire out, go home tired. Trying to send off a creature excited to play - quite likely more dangerous than anything else down here..." she glanced meanwhile at Jenny, who at this point may or may not be the only one paying attention to the corridor ahead. More surprises...would be bad.
  12. Echo sucked a breath in and held it for a heartbeat, then let it out in a hissed, "Are you insane?!" Her feet stopped immediately and then backpedaled several steps, putting Jadzia between her and the...thing that had just been called into the world. She was no mage, but Echo had made a layman's study of magic, particularly its darker variants. It helped to feel like she had some kind of a grip on what it could and couldn't do. Even if the list of 'couldn't do' terrifyingly short. She knew enough to have the sense that spirits were pulled 'through' the world when they were summoned, and they took on aspects of what was around them. And what was around them in that basement was pretty nasty stuff. There was literally no way she was going into the same water that thing was occupying. "Get rid of it," she said tightly.
  13. I'm swamped here. This should get an update soon.
  14. From the dim light the spirit rose. An elemental of water swished through the brackish pool of stagnant, putrid water. Jadzia had made a miscalculation. This was not Domwu'Agnu. No, something else had answered her call. It's for was black, polluted water and within it's liquid shade swirled the drowned, rotting corpses of rats. The sound it made was a mix between a zombie's moan and a drowned gurgle as it approached the running team. Jadzia had control of it for now... but how long could she keep it?
  15. The dead rats, red eyes and Jenny’s warning all screamed the unnatural to Jadzia. But she knew many kinds of things that could do this, and not all of them were magical in nature. Had she not remained enclosed within her gas mask, she might have believed it all a hallucinatory effect of the gas, like some Houngan parlor tricks added to the real Mojo. She clutched the scrimshaw pendant around her neck and called on the forces that resides beyond the grasp of her understanding. “Domwu’Agwu, one of many jaws, dere be good eatin’ here. Water under a skyless dark, I need ya to be vicious for me. I fish da waters you fish, me and my fisherfolk, and we share a meal of our last hunt before we hunt anew.” With that she took six tiny bone charms the size of a thumbnail, delicately carved from the head of a fish and threw them into the water ahead. “Prey for you, and prey for each of us. And prey for our enemies, so dey may be not begrudge us the death we bring dem.” At the call for this lesser spirit, aside of the group, part of the water seemed to thicken, roil and coalesce into a vague conical form, like some maelstrom that would exist in a much deeper body of water. At the sides of the whirl, contained within the spirits’ form, were two small schools of high-backed silver-white fish with dead-set eyes and massively sharp teeth jutting from their jaws. Jadzia strained under the pressure of containing the Spirit of Water. Its instinct was to devour, and while it was generally well disposed towards its summoner, Domwu’Agwu needed to be shown strength and respect at once. Failing to do so meant it might decide to take a nip out of her, or her companions. Not acceptable. Underneath the mask, a drop of sweat rolled down from the effort. “I thank ye, older brother. We hunt together.”
  16. Echo scowled deeply behind her helmet as she tracked what Jenny was saying. It scanned. She wasn't detecting heat signatures or ultrasound contacts that were consistent with all those eyes...and that implied either an illusion of some kind, or something beyond the touch of mortal tech. Either way, it was trouble. She said, "No heat or solid contacts yet." Then Echo put her lighter gun back in the armslide mechanism and retracted it, and produced the larger Savalette pistol; a real piece of work. It was loaded with ammo designed to punch through body armor, but she hoped it would work as well on magical beasties. From hard experience she knew better than to pull her punches on something like that. It was a lesson you didn't get to learn twice. Moving to one side a bit to let Jadzia come up alongside her, Echo then followed Jenny into the black.
  17. "Well then." Mycroft set up his cyberdeck for optimized data searching. Fisher had a SIN, and if she was like the average wageslave, would be blasting out personal information on the Matrix like it was popcorn on Free Theaters Weekend. "Let's start with her then."
  18. "Something is here." Jenny said, her voice a low throaty contralto that could almost be called a growl as she sensed the paranormal threat. "Something not natural." She quickly checked the positions of the others, her gaze finding Jadzia. If this was a spirit, then the mage would be invaluable. She glanced at Echo, nodding towards the malevolent constellation of red eyes ahead of them, and moved to one side of the narrow corridor, raising both her gun and the flashlight to probe the darkness ahead as she moved forwards in a slow stalk. "Elf. Keep an eye on the flooded room. Watch our backs." she said to Piper, terse as always, aware that moving towards the entity meant putting whatever might be lurking in that water behind them.
  19. "Well," Chunin relaxed his seat back and reclined. "Apartment is too obvious. He knows he's screwed, let's call it like we see it. Great place to pick up clues as to where he could have gone. Bookie, well he'd have to work him over, he probably has hired help, so that's a recipe for a drek souffle, or a kinky night out. Your call. However, the bestie and the ex... you want dirt on someone? Wanna know their secrets?" "The Ex." Mycroft finished the human's line of thought for him. Chunin smiled. "The Ex."
  20. Mycroft knew this was going to be a headache. Chunin was one of those inveterate snarkers, who would not stop making remarks about everything. From the confined space of Mycroft's Honda subcompact - which fit him fine and was affordable and quite serviceable thank you - to the music Mycroft tried to put on, to the brief burst of gunfire that occurred as Mycroft was making a turn to bring them to the shady spot. It was just a brief flare-up between gangers, and for once blessedly, Chunin had shut up and demonstrated a quite strong sense of alertness. Until it was clear it wasn't going to affect the two runners, and Chunin went back to making stupid comments. "All right, cram it." Mycroft finally told him, in no more mood for this. "Business time." He slotted the datachip into his comlink, entered the password, and projected the contents on AR display for Chunin's benefit. Crowne's picture showed a reasonably handsome human, but nothing to write home about. "We have Crowne's address and apartment number: in not too bad a part of town, but cops are going to take their sweet time if some noise happens." Then three more pictures. "Associates: Trevor Evans, friend from work. DJ Dewinter, Crowne's bookie. And Laura Fisher, an ex. No further info, but I'm sure I can track down where to find any of them. Your thoughts?"
  21. They made their down the musty, dank concrete hallway. The scent, whatever it was, seemingly moist feces and decaying garbage, only got stronger as they made their way through the tight passageway (which only two people abreast could fit into at a time). This was the life... dank basements, abandoned sewer tunnels, haunted crypts... there wasn't much Shadowrunners weren't asked to do and most days, besides a payday, the best thing you could hope for was a shower and some booze to wash the day away. [Magic, Astral Senses] The air down here was heavy, moist, but damp... but it was also... something else. It was saturated with something unnatural and while it had no scent or taste or appearance... it was still there. That feeling down along the spine that one felt as a ghost passed through the living. A chill. A hunch. Something was down here. The laundry room wasn't too far from the stairway. Off to the left there was a thick, brick trabeation that lead into the laundry room. It was a room that you entered after going down two small concrete steps designed to keep the rest of the basement from flooding if the washroom flooded. Unfortunately... it was flooded. Lumpy, black stagnant water rippled in the laundry room as the washers and dryers were all stacked across the walls and a two by two placing down the middle of the room. [Perception] By looks of it it was about knee deep, but nothing within the room seemed out of place aside from the water which had long one stagnant and nasty, possibly polluted if any of the laundry chemicals had been left behind and soaked into it and the reasons for the lumps became obvious... it was filled with hundreds, if no thousands of dead rats! [Perception] Down, into the shadows where the light failed to reach they could all see it... where the corridor become onyx and unknown... there they were... like a demonic night's sky... the perfect square of the coridor's darkness was lit up with hundreds, if not thousands of of tiny little red eyes blinking in in random patters from floor to ceiling...
  22. Jenny's first instinct when the basement door had slammed shut had not been a healthy one: she'd almost Shifted at being trapped without warning. Glowering in the darkness at the elf, she'd fought hard to repress a growl as Piper explained the situation. She wasn't completely debilitated in pitch darkness, of course - the Astral overlaid everything with it's faint ethereal glow, highlighted by the vibrant life of her companions, the rats and the dim phosphorescence of micro-organisms that enjoyed basement living. Not unlike some Deckers she'd met. But this was another lesson. More thought needed to go into her gear if she was to become successful. A low-light flashlight such as the one Echo had provided her unasked would be useful for those times when one couldn't rely on regular senses. The stench down here was... Well, Jenny resolved to breath shallowly and through her mouth, grateful that she wasn't in her four-legged shape right now. Not that breathing through her mouth was much better - she could taste just as well as she could smell. Perhaps a breathing mask would also be in order - it rankled her to be cut off from such an essential sense as scent but, right now, she'd happily be a nose-blind monkey. How the drek did they allow themselves to live like this? She'd be sick too, living above and drawing water up from a place that smelled like this. "Thank you for the light." she said tersely, moving to take point as Echo had suggested. Holding the flashlight up and sweeping it over the floor and walls, she headed with her usual silence in the direction Piper had indicated, her Ruger held low and her Astral eyes likewise scanning for anything larger than a rat.
  23. Jadzia's budget had been sparse, and with her repayments, she had the cheapest of the cheap. Which at this time did not include a proper flashlight, to her current detriment. Making use of the light produced by Echo's flashlight by proxy of Jenny, and Piper's, she hoped she could find a way to remedy her situation before it would become critical. She could always perceive Astrally, but that lacked detail and would make her stick out on that plane. Using a summoned spirit's elemental aura to produce the barest minimum ligth was possible, but that would cost precious reagents...stalking behind the others she pondered her options.
  24. Echo fished into a slit in the hip of her armor to where a pouch was hidden under the ruthenium polymer. From within she pulled a flashlight remarkably similar to Piper's. They must shop at the same Stuffer Shack. She held it up by her head, directing the dim beam along her eyeline as she looked around. "Piper, which way's the laundry room? We'll start that way, clear to the end, then come back and clear the other way." The elf pointed and waved her light. "That way?" That's about when Echo noticed that Jenny seemed bereft of visual aid, and didn't get a flashlight of her own out. She stifled a groan. Typical 'shadowrunner.' Spend all your nuyen on a big fucking gun, completely forget you have to see to hit anything with it. "Hey. Jenny." When the dangerously beautiful woman turned to face her, Echo held the flashlight out, the base first. "Here. I'll want it back when we're done with the sweep." She then reached up to touch the contacts on the side of her goggles with her trodes and selected the ultrasonic sensor built into them, nestled between the two lenses. It charged with a barely-audible, high-pitched 'fweeeeee' and then began pulsing in frequencies only dogs or bats could comfortably hear. Her vision overlay switched over, painting the room in shades of grey. Solid shapes stood out clearly, showing the walls, ceiling, floor, shelves, and obstacles. Surface details were less distinct, and of course anything like text or print was lost completely. It would be enough to fight with, if it came to that. An adjustment laid the thermographic data over it...handy to tell a mannequin from a living body, which might otherwise be tricky if someone held still. "You take point, Jenny. I don't want to be anywhere in front of you when that hand cannon goes off."
  25. The stairs, at one point in the last century, had been concrete poured into sturdy metallic framework. At some point those collapsed, were gutted and wooden were built. Those probably collapsed a few times too at some point, because these new steps were certainly not the most finely crafted. With the exception of Jenny, every step made a low, long creek that seemed right out of a horror trid. This wasn't grandma's basement... this was the basement of a large apartment building. It was brick and cement and several passages that led off to laundry facilities, a boiler room, electrical and plumbing... the basement was, to say the least, huge. Then... the door closed and they were all left in the pitch black of the eerie basement. In the pitch black everyone spun about to face the door (to the best of their memory). "Relax, relax..." Piper offered in a low whisper, clicking a flashlight on. Those with low light vision winced slightly. "...They're locking it up in case something is dangerous down here. We're fine. Jerry is by the door waiting to let us out if we need to make a quick exit, but they're worried for their safety, so we had to compromise." She shined her light down the steps, of which she was already half way down. "Well, c'mon, lets get this over with... I have no idea where this thing is, I've never been down here..." From where they were nothing seemed out of the ordinary as Piper's red light scanned the area. It was cold and filthy and something down here stank. Stank bad. A small plague of rats scurried away at the shuffle and noise of the four ladies arriving. The floor was damp and scattered puddles seemed to dot the hallway that stretched out before them... ...this was going to be a long night.
  26. Closing up the rear, Jadzia felt a small twang of jealousy at the - obviously nicer - gear that the other two ladies had brought with them. Drawing her Streetline Special from its concealed holster she knew that it was more for the comfort of holding on to something than actually being useful. She promised herself to do some imagination-shopping in the catalog next time it arrived in her account. Her lowlight vision gave her just enough to go by, as she stepped down the stairs carefully. Even without perceiving Astrally, she was very sensitive to the roiling of forces on the Astral plane, and she'd know if something magical were to come their way.
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