Crimson Dawn (part 6)

There were any number of things that Crimson had expected her first run to be like. Dull was not one of them, and yet, that was exactly how it felt right now. Every part of her wanted something to happen to take everything off script and liven things up a lot (or even just a bit) but so far, instead, things were pretty much going to plan to an annoying degree.

Slicer had told her once that a Run never went as expected and that there always was some twist, some unknown that would throw a spanner in the works and send things spiraling out of control. The secret, he'd explained was not trying to stop it from happening. That was impossible. Rather, it was to try and control the outcome and use it as best you could to turn things back to your advantage. It had made a strange amount of sense to her at the time and, as a bonus, he merely hungover when he said it, so there had to be some truth to his words.

But that didn't make this job any more exciting. Going off the information she'd been given by Mister Johnson, she'd been able to find some of the Devil Dogs. They were a pretty ugly bunch, all human males who decided that tan coloured fatigues and red bandannas were their 'thing' and had chosen to confine their activities to a chunk of Redmond that nobody else was actively fighting over at the moment. Doubtless that was a low profile thing, as an up and coming gang that stepped on the wrong toes could easily find themselves crushed by those that didn't like the competition.

Street racing, killer attack drones and other relationship killers

So while Freddie's been doing even more work on the Van I've been having some work of my own done. I'm now sporting a new set of Betaware-grade Muscle Toners, which are making me even faster and more agile then before. Turns out that you can improve on perfection after all.

In other news, we've heard nothing more form the Ares Johnson, but I'm not entirely sure that's a good thing. He's up to something, but there's still no clue as to what or why. I don't like it at all.

In the meantime, my personal life has taken an entirely predictable turn, albeit not through a way that I fully expected. Me and Freddie were invited to another race, admittedly through Alfonso talking to David the Mechanic talking to Freddie talking to me. He was all for the idea because racing’s his thing and personally I suspect he wanted to show off just what he could do in a Bulldog anyway. (Seriously, that Van's two tons of turbo-charged, armour-plated, candy-coated, corp crushing killing machine). Me I entered for the thrill of it and, of course, to watch Freddie's back. Although if I did beat Alfonso it would be awesome.

A rare day when nothing explodes

As you’ve probably noticed by now, our team tends to be rather casual on attendance. A lot of it depends on who’s available at any one time, what they’ve got on, urgency of the job and about a zillion or so other things. That’s one of the reasons why I so rarely work with Abbey; she seems to be doing her stuff all the time, and as such I rarely even see her. So when I recently did a job with her, it was a novelty to say the least.

I had been following up on our Ares Johnson issue, especially given how crawlingly involved he seemed to be getting and the worrying idea that he knew where we lived. It seems that he’s been going around the Barrens, even the really drekky parts (by Barrens standards, I mean. That bad) with an armed guard, apparently like he’s looking for something or the like, but we got no idea what or why. But it’s not like he’s doing anything immediately malicious, though at the same time, I don’t like it one bit.

Biker Gangs, seedy motels and other reasons why I hate road trips

A Rotordrone. Freddie's are now less prone to exploding

Despite the Ares Johnson's ominous sendoff, things have been pretty quirt around here. About the biggest activity for a while was Freddie, Benny and Dave (a mechanic they know) doing some modifications to add more armor to his Rotordrones so they wouldn't explode as soon as somebody looked at them funny. Along the way we gained a Garage Couch (you know the type; covered in a drop sheet and then cluttered up with parts) which I am earnestly shocked we didn't have before.

And then things got awkward when Aphonso called David to ask Freddie for a favour. A friend of his, a Dwarf Rigger called Offroad, had apparently gotten into some trouble during a smuggling run and desperately needed to be bailed out. After a lot of me not talking to Alphonso stuff (including when I was finally actually speaking to him my deliberately not speaking to him; can't he just get the picture already?) we agreed to go help him out as a favour to Dave and, of course, the possible benefits down the road.

We know what you want. We know what you need. We know where you live.

With Wraith gone, something strange has happened. I seem to have become leader of the team somehow. It's odd, and I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it. On the upside, it does appear that everyone recognizes how just plain awesome I am and is willing to listen to me and let me call the shots. On the downside, there's a lot of responsibility and crap that comes with it, which is not helpful when really all I want to do is just run off to do my own thing.

The last little job we had pretty much covered the pros and cons of it, while also leaving me with a bad taste in my mouth, a sort of 'I don't like the way this is going' thing.

It started off with me out at the Skeleton having a good time and, amazingly enough, being recognized for who I am and what I do. An Elf Runner called Blidside approached me in the club, saying he remembered me from Penubra when everything went bad with the Azzie Johnson. I played innocent, saying that I was just there for a good time and had nothing to do with what went on and Jaguar Guards storming the place and all that crap in the spirit of covering my ass, and he seemed to buy that.

Crimson Dawn (part 5)

The boardroom window exploded into a million shards, sending those inside ducking for cover. A moment later, a hail of gunfire poured in from a series of drones, shredding any unfortunate enough to be in their way. Cries of alarm went out form those inside, but were not matched by alerts from the building’s own systems; instead, the ARO displays remained focused on yearly profit graphs as if nothing was happening, while the soothing lighting was entirely at odds with the violence unfolding.

A single figure leaped in through the shattered window, moving with a blinding speed faster than any human being could even hope to follow, No sooner were they down then they were in motion, a black and red blur that darted across the room, weapons at the ready and primed to unleash hell upon anyone foolish enough to get in their way.

And somebody did; a single man, his eyes crackling with unearthly power as he stood, sun-like disks of energy building around his hands as he prepared to unleash the arcane mysteries he commanded upon the target. But already, the intruder was wise to him, spinning around and sending a single blade flying towards him. It hit the mage in the throat, the man issuing a single, sudden gurgle before reeling back, the lights in his eyes and hands flickering and burning out like a dying sun.

Home is where the weapons locker is

I've mentioned the Firehouse enough times; I think it's time I actually wrote a bit about it.

Before I met the team, I lived in my own little apartment in Seattle. It wasn't the best place, yeah, but it was good enough and had reliable services and was comfortable, and that was enough to work. My main concern was slipping in and out while carrying my weapons and other runner gear, something that residents of nice, middle-class neighborhoods aren't supposed to do. After all, you can only do so much to conceal an Ares Alpha or a Katana.

Wraith had floated the idea of getting together and setting up a team base. It had a few immediately obvious advantages; we would all know where we were and be able to grab each other for a run or in emergencies; we would have a central storage of weapons and gear that we could all access; we could equip it with whatever amenities and facilities we needed and, if the worst came to the worst, if somebody was after one of us, then they’d need to take on the rest of us as well.