"So tell me, did we really need to bring this baka wit' us? Not like they can't work from their cozy condominium in Fatadrekking Morgana," a harsh female voice woke you up from your brief nap. To none of your surprise, the street samurai was talking smack about you again.
You guessed that some people just hate other people the moment they meet.
[X] You would try to not get too much on her bad side.
[ ] The feeling was mutual.
You opened your eyes, blinking innocently at the remark and looked at the four of you, counting the pilot at the cockpit.
Paimon, the street samurai, was a dark-skinned African American, kitted in tactical assault gear, a katana, what appeared to be a monofilament whip, and an assault rifle.
Keyjac, your fellow cyberdecker, wore his hoodie over his armor, a hole behind the hood allowed his spinal jack to come out. It was embroidered along his hoodie, and unfortunately kind of giving a good spot to shoot at.
Doji, the other samurai, seemed more like a street
ninja than a samurai. She was dressed up in what you would expect a corporate assassin would be depicted in a movie. That fact would make her look silly, but she managed to look professional somehow.
Then there was Jade, the pilot. You heard that they had to wear that full body chameleon suit as their life support, but you highly doubt it. It was, however, likely true that the pilot was more cyborg than human at this point.
"The client made me," you mentioned.
[ ] You shrugged brusquely, "-So deal with it."
[ ] You tried to explain your part, "-Delicate Matrix operations benefits from closer proximity to the mark."
[ ] You tried to appease them, "-I'll do my best to not get in the way."
[ ] Sarcastically: "-I'll do my best to not get in the way."
[X] "-Delicate Matrix operations need proximity, so trust that I know what I'm doing, all right?"
[ ] Something else (Write-in)
"Yeah, well, the Mr. Johnson's being a dumbass. You better know how to handle a gun because help me God I'm not bailing yer ass out of anything-" she stopped abruptly as an AR materialized in the middle of the spacious aeromobile. Despite the anonymous avatar it wore, it was obviously the Johnson.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen-"
"-Ain't neither," your pilot shouted suddenly. If faceless, black chunks of virtual stones could roll their eyes, then Mr. Johnson would have.
"-Runners. I trust you're more than capable of fulfilling our contract and have extensively reviewed the parameters I have given you."
[X] Of course you did. What do you look like, an amateur?
[ ] You were waiting for him to run through it. He seemed like the exact kind of control freak who would do this.
[ ] You... were too busy... playing videogames...
[ ] Other (Write-in)
"My employers require that a certain Dr. Emilia Furuya be extracted from her post at the Morales Chemicals Arcology. She is aware of the terms of her employment, and will be waiting near the Shipment Dock 3. M_ ____ will find an access point to remotely disable her cortical explosive- otherwise extraction will prove impossible, of course. We will greatly appreciate it if you do not raise an alarm, as that may necessitate naval skirmishing."
"Sounds likes she's a big deal, if they'd be sending ships after her," Keyjac remarked quietly.
Mr. Johnson nodded at Keyjac, before he seemingly decided this was a good point to terminate the connection and turn you all loose on the approaching dome amidst the desert.
"Not ships, just speedboats and 'copters. Still not a good idea," Doji said, in a thick Chinese(?) accent. Then she turned to you, "I have assessed everyone's fitness for this run, except for you. Who are you?"
"I- Well..."
[What is your handle?]
[ ] Aurora
[ ] Blanker
[ ] Eight
[ ] Makura
[ ] Arachne
[X] Bluecat
[ ] Other (Write In)
You were a cyberdecker. The new world's hacker. While your predecessors must make do with probing for holes within the algorithms of their marks, the invention of the Matrix allowed you to connect to a world of alien mathematics that could demolish any previous cybersecurity with ease. Only through the uses of ICEs, Intrusion Countermeasure Entities, otherworldly tangles of logic formed from the thoughts of a cyberdecker could data be secured from hackers, and even then, deckers such as you delighted in outsmarting the ICEs and defeating them with your arsenal of programs and sheer will.
Because of the nature of the higher Matrix abstraction layers, a human brain could not fully comprehend its logic when not connected to a cyberdeck. All cyberdeckers must shield their conscious minds from the full power of information through the use of symbols.
[How did you primarily view your ICEbreaking?]
[ ] A duel, or a battle. It's you, your programs, against the ICEs and their masters.
[ ] A heist. ICEs are walls enveloping the fortresses of paydata, and with the help of your programs you will sneak through.
[ ] A puzzle. All ICEs are tangles of logic. So if you just... untangle them...
[X] Art. Every ICE is another work of art, created by someone working against you. It's beautiful at the same time as it's annoying. You'll just have to work your own magic to get around it.
[ ] Other (Write-in)
[What was your personality like? Pick at least one]
[ ] Confrontational
[X] Calculating
[ ] Shy
[X] Explosive
[ ] Other (Write-in)
[What was your gender?]
[ ] Male
[ ] Female
[X] Male...ish.
[ ] Other (Write-in)
[What did you look like?]
[ ] Write-in
[X] Triangular face; long, limp, unkempt black hair that hangs over it. A scarf and a pair of VR goggles obscuring your face. A scrawny frame with bad posture, covered in layers of different sized shirts with different sleeve lengths and baggy cargo pants.
Doji and the rest of your colleagues listened closely to you as you talked about yourself: Your handle was Bluecat. As a cyberdecking cowboy, you had trained under the best of the best, brought up under the secretive Siolas Group. You moved on from that before Jade fell off their pilot seat and bring all of you plummeting to your doom. You admit that you didn't have much experience as a Runner, but you're not exactly that wet behind the ears, either.
The pair of VR goggles, bristling with electrodes, nestled within your scarf, gave away that you weren't augmented. Not even a DNI in your brain. You had decided that Keyjac was a nice kid since he didn't give you shit for it. It wasn't that you were a technophobe, far from it. The SG had a ritual about the bestowing of cybernetics. You'd have had next year's top of the line wares if SG didn’t fall apart.
"-Now hold on there. That's exactly why I don't like this," Paimon interjected, looking at Doji, "Why would Mr. Johnson foist a former SG on us, especially when you already got him, " she gestured to Keyjac.
"There's something fishy about this run. It's supposed to be just an extraction-" she continued.
"-From a heavily guarded arcology run by a cult-like megacorporation. Maybe he thought we needed the extra firepower," Doji said, suddenly finding her gloves interesting.
"Fine, fine, let's say the run isn't fishy, but Bluecat here is obviously loaded by Mr. Johnson. What even happened to Siolas?" Paimon grumbled.
[ ] Lie: "We got caught. Disbanded. That's all there is to it."
[ ] Remain silent.
[ ] "It's not important. I'd like to get paid, too."
[ ] "So what if I'm loaded? I'm just here to help. I'm hardly equipped to assassinate all of you."
[ ] (Write-in)
"Loaded?" Keyjac said, finally, with a quizzical look on his face.
"A loaded dice. It means they're paid by Johnson to look for corporate interests, and if I know anythin' about how we runners operate, it ain't voluntary," Jade spoke up.
[ ] "-It's really not that bad. It’s no different from having a Fixer."
[ ] Remain silent.
[ ] "How about we talk about the insertion? We're not flying straight into the Arcology, aren't we?"
[ ] (Write-in)
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