It takes some coaxing, but half-way into the ride, St. V manages to get the drop bears singing rounds of shoot-shoot-shoot-the-Ancient ("for busting on your turf!") It's certainly relaxing for all parties.

F's manor is indeed a lovely double-wide, situated among some light woods. It's guarded by a three-foot fence and twenty-four garden gnomes. There's a gravel driveway up to the building, currently empty. There's also a note posted by the local delivery service, Holy-Ship, apologizing for missing him and noting there would be a second delivery attempt tomorrow.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:21, Tue 14 Oct 2014.

During the ride up, Carver sheds the mini-Elvis disguise in favor of more practical, sneaky-type clothes. He checks and rechecks his weapons, and decides to err on the side of not whittling or cleaning his nails with his knives for the ride up. Instead, Carver lends his voice to the nursery rhyme, at least until one of the Dropbears voices displeasure at Carver's lack of tune or even a tune-relevant bucket by taking a shot at boot leather.
Everyone's a critic.
Instead, Carver takes a moment to assess his surroundings, especially trying to verify that those tall green things aren't going to eat him.
Stealth (Perception), 3 successes (3,(6+4)10,2,3,4,2,3,1,3,5)

The trees will not eat him.

Once all the drop bears are tucked in for their nap, St. V goes to help with the surveillance.  After only bothering to change into a pair of spare short-shorts jean shorts, the big bare-chested troll walks casually up to the fence surrounding the beautiful double wide.  He takes a few moments to examine the fence's craftsmanship, then plucks the Holy-Ship note from its resting place.  "Think maybe the delivery could still happen today?" he asks his co-conspirators in hushed tones.  The Johnson would probably love having a certain drop bear dropped off today.

11:26, Today: St. Velveteen rolled 3 successes using 4d6 with the Shadowrun system with a target of 4 with rolls of 2,5,5,4. Knowledge: Woodworking.  Examining the fence.
Looking for things like electrification or sensors.  Anything that might make it more of an obstacle than it appears to be.

Some risk of tetanus. A few boards are loose, and you might fall if you put your weight on them.

Firefox scanned the area with astral perception, checking for any non-electronic forms of surveillance.  She also enjoyed the view.  It wasn't likely that she'd have a chance to suck in the surroundings when it came time for them to depart.

The squirrels watch. They conspire amongst themselves.

The house itself is pretty well warded. There's a watcher around the back, flopped on the ground in a heap. There are a few ghostly bottles bottles around it, and a still-smoking blunt of frankincense. You gather it is not aware of you.

Can we have St V release the Dropbears and have them disperse to ambush positions? We still need Becka wrapped up, but I think the baby blanket burrito would be an acceptable restraint as well as inspiring a distracting hunger in our soon-to-be-late employer. mmmm, murderrito.

"So release the bears, deliver Becka, let the drop bears eat the pussy-eater, take Becka back to her people, avoid the Great Drop.  Anything else to take into account?"  Firefox looked around for an intercom and checked the gate to see if it was unlocked.

The gate is locked with a complex latch system. You may attempt to unlock it, with a Hardware: Garden Decor test with a TN of 2. Alternatively, you can default to Quickness (TN is also 2).

Firefox leans on the gate and it pops open.  "Shall we?"
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 23:24, Mon 20 Oct 2014.

"Send forth the honka honka drop bears of war so that they might smite their enemy." Snow declares, still in the elvis suit because he didn't think to bring a change of clothes.

"so seriously, do we but the bears on the roof and then knock on the door?"

We can slip open a window and see about letting them disguise themselves as brandy bottles and TP.

Snow walks around the trailer looking at all the various entry and exit points before coming back to everyone else.

"Theres the front door, a doggy door, a few windows and a vent on the roof.  what do you think?"

St V's idea so i'll let him give in character.

"I think that's perfect," St. V replies.  "I'll grab our little bundles of joy and we can shove them through the doggy door.  Those things are made for little critters to scamper through, so he's practically asking for it!  And speaking of little critters..."  He slowly turns his head to look at Carver, the littlest of their group.  "You want to go in with them and babysit?  Make sure the delivery gets done?  Just... make sure you keep an eye out for any doggies that the door may actually be meant for..."

So moving things along ...

St. V brings his little class of singing drop bears to the door, holds the door open, then jams them in one after another as quick as he can and seals the door behind him. He hears something heavy creak and fall over, crashing into the floor, then pieces of glass smashing. The lights inside the house glow for a moment, then go dark with a *pop*. A box of VHS tapes comes flying through a window on the far side of the house and a piece of the roof abruptly caves in. Then, the house goes silent.

With the help of a good boot from St. V, Carver slides in through the doggy door. Inside, the place is a wreck. There are muddy paw prints all over the hallway. In the kitchen, the fridge has been left open, and there are stacks of freshly soiled plates filing the sink. A box of choco-bombs has apparently exploded, with pieces of sticky, brown shrapnel now glued to every surface. A gallon of milk, uncapped, is left on its side, glugging softly as it dumps its contents underneath the nuker and into the stovetop.

In the sitting room, the couch cushions have all been removed for a pillow fort. One bear sits inside, sipping a martini as she watches an old video of Buns of Steel on the trid. A pair of tighty whiteys hangs from the chandelier.

The bedroom is a mess. Mr. F's wardrobe has fallen over, dumping clothes all over the floor. One of the bears is jumping on his bed wearing F's Fluttershy cosplay costume.

Carver finds a door down to the basement. It's a loooong stairway, about 100 feet into the darkness. Carver figures this is probably not standard on double-wides, but explores it anyway, because he's pretty badass.

In the basement are stacks of wireframe cages. Currently three hungry, mournful, weeping drop bears are trapped inside of the cages. There's a leather couch down here, with grey, furry drop pillows and a teeny tiny bear skin rug. There's also a big-screen TV, a nice sewing machine, and some knitting (including some ADORABLE winter hats he's clearly been working on).

After the commotion has calmed down Snow entered the trailer and looked around.

"Alright so either F isn't home or he went out to get the latest copy of," he picked up a porn vid off of a stack on the coffee table, "Clam Lappers.  Probably volume 238.  Or the cute and cuddly, gravity obsessed council was wrong on their information."

Firefox follows Snow's lead, doing her best to avoid stepping on a piece of choco-bomb residue.  At least she hoped it was choco-bomb residue.  "So, release the ones in the cages, load them all back in the van, call Mr. F, figure out where he is now and deliver them all to him there?"

in all of the excitement Snow forgot that he had the Johnson's number.  So he called him up.

"We have a delivery for you sir."

"About time! You can leave the package behind the back door. I've waited forever for this! Is it both discs, or just Booty Meat 1?"

"Wrong delivery sir.  This the the other delivery service, we have the bear."

St. V was planning to stand guard outside, but eventually realized that a troll wearing nothing but short-shorts standing by the trailer would probably draw more attention than nobody being outside.  Plus, he was bored, and he could have sworn he heard someone mention Clam Lappers volume 238.  The big brawler decides to head on in to help gather up St. Velveteeny and the other drop bears if needed, and to survey the situation.

As Firefox listened to Snow's side of the conversation, her gaze slowly traversed the room.  She *really* hoped they didn't need to try to package these critters up and move them to yet some other location . . .

"You! About time. I'll arrange a pickup team in the city. Same place as last time. This time, don't screw it up!"

The line goes dead.

A moment later, the phone rings again. It's Mr. F.

"Also, I may have hired a second shadowrun team to kill you for double-crossing me. I'd call them off, but they have a no refund policy. Hope that's not an issue."

He hangs up again.

"Alright so the the good news is that if we wait here long enough we can get the box set of Booty Meat.  Or maybe just Booty Meat volume 1, I don't think he really knows what he ordered."

"the bad news is that he is arranging a drop of at the same place in the city.  the other bad news is that he hired another team to kill us off."

"I say we just hang out here till he comes home.  I'm going to go move the truck and see if i can get a line on who got hired to hit us."



Calling my fixer to see if he knows or can find out who is hunting us
14:08, Today: Snow rolled 3 successes using 5d6 with the Shadowrun system with a target of 4. call to St. Nougat.
14:08, Wed 29 Oct 2014: Snow rolled 3 successes using 5d6 with the Shadowrun system with a target of 4 ((4,5,1,2,(6+1)7)).
This message was last edited by the player at 19:09, Wed 29 Oct 2014.

"Yeah, he hired three of my nuttiest runners. Dominic, JD, and Batman. Not sure if he went out and got anyone else, and I'm not privvy to the target. Still, I'd watch out for them. They're liable to blow you, or themselves, up."

"Thanks Saint, I appreciate the information.  I won't ask you for anything that may jeopardize your position."


when the call with the fixer is done, Snow will call his Decker contact, Skyhammer (what's with deckers and the handles?) to see if he can get Snow info on Dominic, JD, and Batman.  Pictures, addresses, phone numbers, known associates etc.

14:32, Wed 29 Oct 2014: Snow rolled 2 successes using 5d6 with the Shadowrun system with a target of 4 (((6+2)8,1,4,1,2)).

PM

They are all super-rich megalomaniacs, yet they can't afford basic living amenities. They don't maintain friendships. Interests include stalking, killing, being Batman.

Carver creeps through the house, trying to channel his inner dropbear.
Stealth, 2 successes (4,1,3,2,1,2,5,1,2,2)
Unfortunately, he is naturally a pisces, not awakened murderous herbivores. So instead of his usual ninja-like skill, he trips over a case of broken bottles and lands nearly silently in a pile of recently worn ladies' undergarments.
This J, a size 6? No way.
Instead of calling the party on the radio, he readies his knives and waits for the Bears to bare their little teethies.

Snow makes his way back to the double wide and informs everyone of what he had learned.

"Alright it looks like Dominic, JD, and Batman are out there looking for us and these guys are pretty lacking when it comes to sanity so we are going to need to watch our backs.  any thoughts on how to deal with our johnson?  do we wait here or try to make it to the drop point?"

"Hey give me that Holy-ship ticket, lets see if they can redeliver now that someone is home."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:38, Mon 03 Nov 2014.

The bears seem to have been generally placated by St. V's sing-alongs and Mr. F's liquor cabinet, and thusly don't seem to eager to tear up Carver. However, he'll still probably want to be careful that he doesn't block the TV or anything.

At this point you all have met the requirements for the job from the DBC. You just need to return Becka safely and you'll move on to the next chapter.

Because the adventure doesn't have anything on what happens if you squat at Fortuna's house and wait for him to return, I'm just going to assume you don't do that. Although I'll let you decide if you're going to intercept Fortuna's incoming mail deliveries and otherwise make his life more difficult/loot his double wide.

Well if Fortuna isn't going to be back any time soon, I start flushing all his toilet paper and then upend a box of sanitary wipes into his septic system. We might die in the attempt, but his plumbing will NEVER BE THE SAME!

I say we wait for the delivery.  Box up F's porn collection and anything electronic or semi valuable. and then head out to the meet to drop of becka (with a tracker, even if thats a watcher spirit or something) and go find F

I vote we take the porn package, put a dropbear inside and *then* give it to him.

thats an even better idea, but only after we take the porn out.

After leaving a troll-sized upper-decker in Carver's freshly destroyed toilet, St. V goes to the basement and loots the Johnson's sewing machine and related paraphernalia.  Then he goes to the kitchen and grabs any non-kitten foods that the drop bears didn't already get into.  Finally he collects any other pawnable electronics, wraps everything in the nicest looking comforters, and hefts them over his shoulder to carry them out to the getaway vehicle.

"Alright drop bears, grab what you can and lets roll out!"  St. V calls the drop bears to order for a marching line, then starts whistling a marching tune and leads them in a parade out to the vehicle.  So long a Becka was one of the ones following along, they could do what they needed with the others.

11:20, Today: St. Velveteen failed (no successes) using 3d6 with the Shadowrun system with a target of 4 with rolls of 2,3,1. Electronics - pawnable loots.

11:19, Today: St. Velveteen rolled 2 successes using 3d6 with the Shadowrun system with a target of 4 with rolls of (6+2)8,2,5. Butcher - identify non-kitty meats.

11:26, Today: St. Velveteen rolled 1 success using 3d6 with the Shadowrun system with a target of 4 with rolls of 3,4,3. Childcare - drop bear parade!

Alright, load up the truck, pack the bears in discrete brown paper packaging and lets go to the meet.

Firefox takes one last wander through the house, looking for anything interesting in the astral and (mostly) resisting the urge to light anything on fire, then returns to her bike.

After a brief Fade to Black, the party is driving back north into Seattle, their truck weighed down with about five hundred pounds of novelty singing fish, old stereo speakers, and frozen burrito dinners, plus a few discrete packages that growl when shaken.


Fortunately, the border guards are no issue. They're all too happy to let the riff-raff INTO Seattle. The guards on the UCAS side validate your passports. Your visas check out, and Carver even covers the border crossing fees. They conduct the bag check, and don't notice anything too suspicious (i.e., no assault cannons or mortars tucked away in there.) Satisfied that everything is legal, they smash in the back window of the van on principle, then send you on your way.

You drive back into Seattle. Fortuna's box truck is in fact at the promised location. They're hawking car stereos and hubcaps, super-cheap. They accept your plain, brown, growling box without checking it and toss it in the back, then offer you $500 for the electronics in the van.

1 karma for everyone. Decide how best to divide it up amongst yourselves.