Hastur
09-19-2002, 09:08 PM
Credited to: Name Witheld to Protect the Guilty
Yoshi crouched on the crumbling edge of the roof and engaged the targeting system in his cybernetic right eye. The crosshairs came up and he centered them on the slim, pretty redhead on the street below. It was gonna be a real shame to waste her. She had a righteous ass and if she bent over to pick up a nuyen off the street he would be able to see all of it and more from under her cherry red vinyl skirt. But business was business. He eased his Slicer 9000 from its holster and prepared to send its stream of flechettes on their way.
Just then she whipped around at looked him square in the eye. She knew he was there in spite of the fact that he was ten stories up and across the street. With an intimate gesture of her right arm she revealed the silver dragon tattoo running its length. “Shit.” He whispered fiercely. He spun around and jumped, hoping his amped reflexes would save his sorry hide. The cornice of the building exploded behind him in a flash of white light. Bits of concrete sliced open his black leather jumpsuit but bounced off of the body armor underneath. The concussion wave from the explosion propelled him across the length of the roof. He snapped out an arm and the grappling hook deployed from his wrist. It bit into the wall and his flight stopped with a jerk that nearly pulled his arm out of its socket. The wall rushed up to meet him but he was able to twist in midair and went through a window instead.
The monofilament wire disconnected from is wrist coupler and he rolled to his feet in front of a fat guy sitting on the couch, watching Gladiator. “Excuse me sir.” Yoshi hit the guy’s flat door running and it gave like wet cardboard. As he ran down stairs he swore he would nail his Fixer to the wall. No one screwed with him and lived. He reached the street and came out the door at a much more reserved pace.
His jaw nearly hit the floor when he saw the redhead and her posse waiting for him. “Surely you didn’t think you be able to outrun the Silver Dragons.” She laughed and damn if that didn’t make her look even hotter. She gestured over her shoulder. “Take him girls”. An Asian beauty and an Amazonian black woman both dressed in the same heart stopping skirts and matching jackets broke around her and came at Yoshi, grinning. He popped his claws and grinned back.
There you go. Our first offering. What would you suggest, if you were the editor?
Yoshi crouched on the crumbling edge of the roof and engaged the targeting system in his cybernetic right eye. The crosshairs came up and he centered them on the slim, pretty redhead on the street below. It was gonna be a real shame to waste her. She had a righteous ass and if she bent over to pick up a nuyen off the street he would be able to see all of it and more from under her cherry red vinyl skirt. But business was business. He eased his Slicer 9000 from its holster and prepared to send its stream of flechettes on their way.
Just then she whipped around at looked him square in the eye. She knew he was there in spite of the fact that he was ten stories up and across the street. With an intimate gesture of her right arm she revealed the silver dragon tattoo running its length. “Shit.” He whispered fiercely. He spun around and jumped, hoping his amped reflexes would save his sorry hide. The cornice of the building exploded behind him in a flash of white light. Bits of concrete sliced open his black leather jumpsuit but bounced off of the body armor underneath. The concussion wave from the explosion propelled him across the length of the roof. He snapped out an arm and the grappling hook deployed from his wrist. It bit into the wall and his flight stopped with a jerk that nearly pulled his arm out of its socket. The wall rushed up to meet him but he was able to twist in midair and went through a window instead.
The monofilament wire disconnected from is wrist coupler and he rolled to his feet in front of a fat guy sitting on the couch, watching Gladiator. “Excuse me sir.” Yoshi hit the guy’s flat door running and it gave like wet cardboard. As he ran down stairs he swore he would nail his Fixer to the wall. No one screwed with him and lived. He reached the street and came out the door at a much more reserved pace.
His jaw nearly hit the floor when he saw the redhead and her posse waiting for him. “Surely you didn’t think you be able to outrun the Silver Dragons.” She laughed and damn if that didn’t make her look even hotter. She gestured over her shoulder. “Take him girls”. An Asian beauty and an Amazonian black woman both dressed in the same heart stopping skirts and matching jackets broke around her and came at Yoshi, grinning. He popped his claws and grinned back.
There you go. Our first offering. What would you suggest, if you were the editor?