After investigating a routine homicide scene with your new partner, you find yourself on the wrong end of a steel pipe in the middle of a rundown apartment building. As you reorient yourself, you see three Shifter thugs, two carrying machine pistols, and a third with the aforementioned pipe. You are undamaged, but taking fire at this range might do real harm. Russo is currently outside tailing a running suspect, meaning you have no immediate backup.
>Tackle the pipe perp
>Pull your piece
>Dive out the window
Inventory will be updated whenever a significant change has occurred, or upon request
You reach into your jacket and pull the gun from the holster tucked beneath your left arm. You recall that lycans are highly resistant to normal ammunition, but not so resistant that they won't be hospitalized for a few days with a full magazine in them.
The pipe wielding thug charges you, and before you can react you are pinned to the far wall.
>Throw him off
You lower your gun and fire four rounds into his knee before he finally crumbles, allowing you to strike him in the side of his head and send him tumbling along the ground. The other two Shifter thugs open fire, pushing you backward and sending a hail of 9mm plinking off of your body. Your clothes are shredded, and your vest is rendered inert within moments. When they're finally out and have to reload from magazines tucked into their waistbands, your joints have taken minor damage, your entire chassis has been badly scratched, and your eyelamps are totally destroyed. Despite this, you are relatively unharmed internally, but if you take another burst you may not be so lucky.
>Shoot to kill
>Hurl the downed thug at his friends
Op, just a note, you might like a snappy lead in to the quest in future, so potential new players can jump in knowing what's what.
"You are a detective, you are a golem in service of the City. And right now you're reeling from a blow to the head after a shapeshifting bastard clocked you with a lead pipe."
And lead in from there and the like.
>I'm not a robot, captcha
You reach down and lift the groaning Shifter thug, heaving him up and tossing him with all your strength. He flies and collides with the others before they get a chance to fire. Thinking quickly you rush forward and deliver a hard punch to the head of the one on the left, dazing him, and firing a few rounds into the one on the right. He drops his gun and clutches his stomach as it begins leaking blood. Both of them fall over and seem to put up no further resistance. Somewhere in the distance, you hear the screeching of tires and crunch of metal. It might not be Russo, but might not might not be good enough.
>Kill the thugs before you go
>Let the thugs be and go
>Question the thugs, Russo can handle herself
It shouldn't be but the work of a moment to field strip those machine pistols and toss the bolts out a window. Once we know that they're disarmed, we can take off to help Russo.
You pick up the guns and eject the magazines, working quickly to break them apart as best you can. You take a critical component from each, or at least you think you do, and head back downstairs.
Outside, you hear the normal sounds of the slum, but as you make your way down the street Russo took, you hear loud gunshots. You don't know the exact sound a 44 makes, but that's what worries you. You pick up the pace, but you're no marathon runner. Your body wasn't built for sprinting, and so you perform more of a mimicry of running that increases your speed a good amount.
You ask a few people on the street if they saw the car you're looking for, but they seem reluctant to give information to a cop, especially a metal one covered in bullet scratches and ripped clothes.
>Be forceful (75%)
>Forget them, just keep moving
>Be persuasive (15%)
You grab one of the locals by the collar and shove your badge into his face. You remind him how easy it is for a guy like him to get lost in the shuffle of paperwork, and ask him how easily he thinks he can make bail if he's dragged in for obstructing justice. He looks to his friends, but they merely turn a blind eye. Swallowing loudly, he gives you directions, speeding your search greatly. You release him and barrel down the street.
You arrive at the scene of the crash, and just as you'd feared, the car you took out of the garage at the precinct it rammed into a brick wall. The engine doesn't seem damaged beyond repair, but th grill and hood are crumbled a bit. You search the are and find six 44 casings on the ground by the driver's side door, and a bit of blood as well. You look around and see a trail of droplets heading north, and hear two more gunshots. You think about calling for backup, knowing it might get you chewed out since this was all meant to be a routine tag and bag operation.
>Call, ask for a full perimeter
>Call, ask for a squad car
>Don't call, just find Russo
It is a slum, and you are seen as less than human since you're a construct
You call for a full perimeter to be put into effect around the neighborhood. A moment later your request is confirmed, and you can hear the sirens begin blaring. Good thing the cops keep such a close watch on the slums.
You begin moving on foot again, loading your spare magazine into your gun. You have two rounds left in your first, which you stow away for later. As you round a corner, then another, following the blood drops, you come to an abandoned store with the front door broken in. You steady your weapon and enter.
Inside, you find Russo aiming her gun at the suspect, who is indeed the man fingered for the murder you're investigating. He is bleeding from the chest badly, and panting so hard you're amazed he hasn't fallen over. Russo has a bad cut on her forehead, and her arms are shaking.
"Alright! You fucking got me! Just haul me in already!" The suspect shouts, his voice wavering.
"Sir! I'm afraid... Well I left my cuffs in the car, so..." Russo tries not to look at you.
>Cuff the suspect
>Question the suspect
>Wait for backup
>Wait for backup
"Take it easy, Russo. Cavalry's on their way."
Pull out our cell phone and call out location in to dispatch. Also, look around this storefront briefly for a rag or something for the suspect, but keep our gun on him.
You tell Russo to remain in position. She nods, and you begin scanning the room with your gun still raised. You spot a pile of painting supplies, along with a dingy rag on a countertop. As you move to them, you call the precinct and give them your badge number, and alert them to your location. A squad car is en route. You toss the rag to the suspect, which he uses to stop the worst of the gunshot wounds.
In minutes, the car rolls up, and an officer enters carrying a shotgun, most likely loaded with blessed slugs courtesy of the Cardinal's boys.
>"Book him, but don't let the blood fool you. He's still dangerous."
>"Toss him into the car, I'll be out in a minute." Examine Russo
>"Bring him in and leave him in the interrogation room."
The suspect, now incredibly nervous about actually being killed by a round that won't heal overnight, goes without a fight. You holster your weapon and move to check up on Russo. She's shaking, likely out of breath, and still bleeding. You reach out and look at her head, which makes her notably uncomfortable.
"I'll be alright sir, just bumped my head when I crashed." As she says, the cut seems like it just needs some first-aid. But when the two of you try to walk out of the shop, you notice she's limping. You don't see any blood.
>"We're going to the hospital."
>Ignore it, she's a big girl
>"Need to use the bathroom first, rookie?"
>We're going to the hospital.
"Regs, Russo. We're already getting an earful for the car, let's not add that limp onto our list."
Pause for a second, then: "You did good, kid. Perp is in cuffs, and we walked away. That's a good night in anybody's book."
>Do people get turned into shifters if they get bit by shifters?
Glad you asked! The Shifters are, as I've said, just a gang of local purse snatchers, hired muscle, and low level dealers. A lycan, in this case a werewolf, is something old as the age of sword and board. Shifters, as an initiation ritual, force new members to get a set of tattoos indicating their loyalty, then perform a series of tasks, and finally they are bitten by a member of the gang and turned. The process is irreversible by almost any modern science or magic, and turning someone against their will is a felony, but a lycan can go on to lead a normal life if they choose.
You tell Russo you're stopping by the clinic to get her leg looked at before reporting back to the precinct. She seems apologetic for taking up time, but you relieve her with a pat on the back and a congratulations for nailing her first perp.
The two of you make it to the free clinic in lowtown, and you leave Russo to get checked while you head to the ConRec Wing to have your eyes replaced. The lamps on a standard American and German built construct are often little more than dressing, giving people a sense of ease when conversing with a construct, who actually see via a set of three cameras set in the head or chest, providing a trinocular sort of vision. Still, they're free with your insurance, so why not.
After getting patched up and sprayed with a little coconut scent, you return to the ER and find Russo already waiting. She reports a few minor injuries to her hip, but with some pain meds and rest she will be right as rain.
The two of you head back out and catch a cab to the precinct. Upon arriving, Sally Sutherland at the front desk waves you over.
"Detective, the chief is looking for you again. I shouldn't say this, but she seems quite disgruntled."
>Go upstairs and face the music
>Send Russo alone
>Finish up your paperwork, avoid the chief
You and Russo march up the steps in the lobby, right to the chief's office. You knock, then enter together. Her face is less than pleased.
"Fifteen thousand in damages. Fifteen fucking thousand! All I asked you to do was pick a two-bit mugger out of some shitty apartment building, and you rank up fifteen thousand in damages!? Now we're down a car, gotta pay to repair the buildings you two tore up with your little shooting spree, and there's three thugs saying they were beaten to shit without being read their rights! God damn it! What do you have to say for yourselves!?" The room echoes with her voice for a moment. Russo is petrified.
>"Chief, this sexual tension is never gonna get resolved if you don't come out and say it."
You and Russo say nothing. The Chief stares you down with cold, sharp eyes for a while, blinking so little you'd swear she was trying to cause you both to spontaneously combust. As the wall clock ticks away, Russo opens her mouth to apologize, but can't seem to find the courage. When the chief finally sighs and drops back into her chair, she merely reaches into her desk and removes a bottle of aspirin, taking one dry.
"Get the hell out of here, and get your paperwork filled in by the end of the day." You and Russo both nod and leave the room. When you're outside, Russo lets out a long breath, and begins shaking. You ask if she's alright.
"Yeah, just really gotta drain the old coolant, feel me?"
>"I find that offensive, detective." (Joking)
>"I find that offensive, detective." (Serious
>"Go ahead, I'll get started on the filing."
"I missed the chance to read them their rights when they were bashing my head in with a lead pipe and shooting me shortly after that. I apologize for the damages, you know how territorial these shifters can get Chief."
>"Go ahead, I'll get started on the filing."
"Don't sweat it, rookie. Come this time tomorrow Cap'll be riding some other badge for something much worse. We'll just play it quiet for a bit and see how things go."
You give Russo a pat on the back and send her off to the lavatory while you return to your desk. When you arrive, officer Kowalski congratulates you and thanks you for the donuts earlier that morning. You sit, and review the case.
-A murder victim, found in his apartment with his throat ripped out
-Suspect, IDed by witnesses at the scene three days before, noted Shifter gang member
-Witnesses say the two were having a drunken argument
-Upon finding the suspect, gang affiliates assaulted the investigating officer
-After being cornered in a shop, suspect gave up willingly to investigating officers
-DNA comparison found suspect's saliva mixed with blood at the crime scene
-Suspect charged with first degree murder, resisting arrest, assaulting an officer, and robbery
>Close the case
It's only murder if they're attacking something alive, anon.
Did we get someone to crawl along and pick up the trio of other shifters, or not bother? I'm fine with leaving the assholes alone, honestly. There's always more scum like that.
Think this is part of something bigger?
You request any information on the three men who attacked you. By the time it arrives, so does Russo. You look through their arrest records together. After a couple of hours of digging, you find something all four men have in common. They're all known to work for the Covenant, Silver Sands' most well known mafia outfit. Little is known for certain about their leadership, but it's highly suspected that they are spearheaded by a group of Vampires, possibly older than the Undead Lenience act of '85, which granted pardons to all unconvicted misdemeanor crimes against humanity by undead before the act was signed. Since then, undead such as skeletons and Vampires try not to cause too much trouble, but it's not unheard of for a newborn to lose their cool and start a spree in Lowtown or the slums.
After going through the files, you can find no solid connection to the Covenant. Russo suggests closing the case for now.
>Keep it open
We don't need to reopen it, it was a murder. Unless the guy comes back as a shifter (is that likely to happen?) then we got the perp, his mouth was in that hole. It might have been a hired killing, but unless shaggy wants to talk that's it.
...People don't come back after being torn to bits as shifters, right? That's a hell of a way to fake your own death.
You and Russo sign off, and tuck the file back away. You have your suspicions, but it won't be good to start another fire so soon, and you don't have solid evidence either way.
It's just pass 18:00 now, and Russo stands from her rolling chair to stretch out. You clean up your desk before standing as well.
"Thank you for helping me today, sir. I was nervous, but I think I can get the hang of this job with time." Russo reaches out to shake you hand again, and you respond. "I apologize for being so nervous around you. I've been near Cons before, but they've always been janitors, or waiters, or mechanics. Never seen one with an ego." You tell her you're used to the cold shoulder from new people. She laughs it off. "Anyway, I'm going to go home and sleep off this hip bump. See you tomorrow morning."
The two of you head for the door and go your separate ways. As you examine your shredded clothes, you sigh. Stuff in your size is already expensive, but you really liked this band shirt. You need to relax."
>Go to the Rivet Club
>Go for a walk
The hospitals in Lowtown usually have basic repairs, but you'd need to go to specialist to get any critical systems looked at.
Posts might get a little sporadic, but I'll keep going as long as I can.
>beaten to shit without being read their rights!
The fuck? Even if they hadn't opened fire you don't actually have to read them their rights unless you're about to formally question/imprison them.
The Rivet Club is one of a number of member exclusive watering holes scattered through Lowtown. As a detective, you're familiar with a few, including The Tomb, an underground cafe where Skeletons often go to be amongst other well-read snobs, and Moonlight Sonata, a nightclub that caters to Bloodsuckers and Lycans. It's highly assumed to hold mafioso in its VIP section, but you've never had to go in looking for one.
You arrive at the old, beaten up auto garage, repurposed into a music club. The sign above the doors display "Rivet Club" in binary, then in smaller text beneath it. You flash your membership card in front of the bouncer, a two ton railroad driver of a guy, and are allowed in.
Inside, the place is jumping with a band in full swing and other Cons swapping stories. You approach the bar, and greet the bartender. Cid is a Japanese make, with a full sweet of feminine features excluding her face, which has been replaced with a stock plate. You never asked about why, but you'd heard she was once a "companion" model, before coming to her sentience. She greets you warmly, and asks about your clothes.
>"Got into a little rumble downtown. No big deal."
>"Shot up by thugs. They ache something fierce too. Wanna run your digits along my chassis and see?"
>"Don't worry about it, just give me the usual."
You reassure her, and she doesn't pry.
"Wish you'd quit that gig. I hate to see a good fella get so beat up for the sake of a bunch of ungrateful meatbags that won't even give him the time of day. Why not work here with me? Sal keeps the door safe, but we could always use another set of servos on his days off."
>"I'm a cop, Cid. Always have been, always will be."
>"They aren't all like that, Cid. you know as well as I do."
>"I dunno. Sometimes I think about it."
>"Just give me a patch and stop hassling me."
Cid shrugs. Without another word, she reaches beneath the bar and hands you a patch. A small, rechargeable battery powers a weak but specially tuned electromagnet. You plant it on your head, and feel a wave of sensation run through you. Cons normally only feel sensation through instruments to measure weather and such, but a patch messes with those sensors, creating a feeling that does not naturally occur. Often overexposure can damage the memory core, but a little now and then can be refreshing.
>Make small talk with Cid
>Enjoy the patch
>Listen to the music
You chat with Cid about nothing in particular. As the night goes on, something catches your eye. You turn and see a familiar face, with an unfamiliar spring in their step. A German made Con approaches yu, and extends their hand.
"Good evening, detective. I am Theo. You may not recognize my newer vocal software, but this hardware is the remains of Mabel. I believe you two were acquainted."
You do recall Mabel. Bit of an oddball with a live for poetry. Always quoting some dead guy.
"Mabel performed a consciousness synchronization with one by the name of Foster. I am the result. I felt it appropriate to introduce myself."
>"Don't know you, stranger."
>"Sure, I guess."
>"Glad to meet you."
>Don't know you, stranger.
If you need to look after family that probably takes priority?
Also, did Mabel seem like the type to go for synchrowhatsit? Just because someone has his face doesn't mean it was willingly shared.
You shake hands with the newly updated Con. He makes some small talk, catching up on Mabels last days and Theo new outlook. Synchronization always seemed like such a desperate move. Losing yourself in another person may as well be dying. But maybe in some way, it felt like the ultimate defined move against the people who made you. A way to say the the universe you werent there on its terms.
You wrap up the conversation and Theo goes on his way. You pay Cid for the patch and say your goodbyes before heading home.
You unlock the door to your apartment and close it after yourself. As you set yourself down on the power station, plugging yourself in for the night, you stare blankly at the monitor connected to your pc.
>Stay awake and watch something
>Go into low power mode until morning
Cons are built, aim and simple. But multiple cons can synchronize, dumping theit personalities and combining their memories to form a new, randomly generated consciousness. It was illegal for a long time, but eventually the left pushed te issue enough to have it legallized. It's rare that two Cons are willing to make such a big commitment, but some see it as romantic.
And thank you
Can it be done with an unwilling partner?
Could a nonsentient construct be ordered to do that to a sentient one?
As a cop, it's this sort of thing that we think about just before going into low power mode.
You power down all non-critical systems, and feel your consciousness fade to black. It's never been confirmed whether a Con has the ability to dream, but now and then one wake up with junk data you need to dump after being in low power. Usually it's random strings, but when it is coherent, it's a nice surprise.
That'll have to be a wrap for tonight, will try to continue in the morning, same time or earlier. If you want to follow me, I'm @rags2riches_qm. Hopefully everyone had some fun, and I'll see you next thread
Theoretically you could force someone to do it, and it would be tantamount to murder, but one has to choose to merge in order to merge. They'd need to be threatened into it, or something to that effect. Also, a non sentient Con could be ordered to, but most have protocols to guard against it. Most, but not all, and a talented alchemist could remove the protocol
Fair enough, but pic related is what I think of when I think of our protagonist.