New: HumanityPress CP2020 (free, open-ended, www, human, modern, rpg)

From: donotreply@pbm.com (PBM List Autoposter)

Date: Thu, 06 Jan 2005 20:13:00 +0000

Name:		HumanityPress CP2020
Costs:		free
Frequency:		about once a week
Email:		jsmoriss zat mvlan.net
URL:
http://humanitypress.mvlan.net/archives/role-playing-games/start-of-new-ga
me-in-cp2020-storyline.html
Type:		cyberpunk
Last-Update:		2005Jan04
Keywords: free, open-ended, www, human, modern, rpg

Description:

"Friday, January 1st 2021 - it's a wonder we're still alive..." Cinder
thought, as she rubbed her temples and looked at the passing traffic.
She'd chosen a table under the awning of Burt's Grill, next door to The
North Gate Hotel, where she'd been staying for the past few weeks. It was
drizzling lightly and the the metal awning clinked rythmicly. It was good
to be out of the rain, since it burned if you stayed under it too long.
Cinder checked her watch - "4:35am". She'd gotten out of The Alley a few
minutes ago and stopped off at Burt's for a HydraMax to lessen tomorow's
hang-over. The drink shone and sparkled blue in front of her - an effect
generated by embedded electronics in the bottle. She was already feeling
better and reached in the hand-bag on the table for her Micro-Comp. "Those
dorphers in The Alley must have made the news" she thought.

Slumping in her chair (6-B), Cinder pulled her jacket closer and stretched
her long legs.	She was wearing her usual all-black Ruf Tread Boots,
thigh-high fishnets over black garter stockings, electric-blue Cryo-Max
Wrap-on Micro-Mini Skirt and a black camisole under a black MilSpec M85
Field Jacket. She scanned the diners around her before turning her
attention to the Micro-Comp. Tonight was not the usual crowd. She
recognized a few faces though - having passed them in the hallways or
lobby of The North Gate Hotel.

The dorphers had made the news, in fact, they'd made the morgue too.
Cinder put away the Micro-Comp and stared out at the passing traffic. It
was still drizzling and people walked briskly past Burt's, huddled under
umbrellas or disposable RainSafe capes. The traffic on St-Anthony's was
light but constant. Large public and private transports passed every so
often, rattling glasses on the tables. A News 54 blimp could be heard in
the distance, droning out the latest media sound-bites. Rain fell in large
drops from the awning's sides and thin streams ran down the concrete wall
on either side of the order window. It must have gotten in the wiring
because the fluorescent tube above the order window popped and hissed,
going out and flashing back on every few minutes. A second fluorescent
tube, hanging above the tables, was the only other light under the awning.
Sounds of a vidshow melodrama wafted from the kitchen along with smells
from Burt's latest deep-dried victim.

Three Condemned, easily recognizable by the large "X" tattooed on each of
their faces, were sitting at a near-by table (2). Cinder caught a few
words of their heated conversation. "... skimmed thousands!" shouted the
larger of the three, a Muscle Boy with blond hair in his early 20s. "...
got what she deserved." he continued. One of his friends looked around and
added something in a low voice. The larger fell silent and glared at the
glass burried in his large white-knuckled fist. Cinder was half-expecting
the glass to implode at any moment.

The light above the order window popped and fizzled again as a motorcycle
wizzed by, just a few inches from the sidewalk, throwing sheets of rain on
either side. Two Bradi Bunch posers sitting at the edge of the awning, a
Marcia (1-A) and Peter Brady (1-B) by the looks of them, were hit squarely
by the wave and stood up as if bit in the ass. Their plastic table was
tossed aside, and glasses of Smash flew onto the larger Condemned sitting
(2- A) at the next table. "What the fuck!" he yelled, standing up, Smash
running down his soaked jacket and pants. His expression turned into a
mask of anger and hatred as he spotted the two posers. The glass, still
gripped tightly in his hand, would implode for sure, thought Cinder. "You
little fucks!" As he spit the words out, he took a step towards Peter and
smashed the glass into Peter's face. He dropped like a ragdoll onto the
sidewalk. The large man then turned to Marcia and landed a bone crunching
punch to her face. She fell back and he grabbed her dress - landing
another punch before letting her drop to the ground. Unsatisfied, he
straddled her slim frame and slammed punch after punch to her face,
turning it into a mass of bloody meat. Meanwhile, his two buddies stood
over Peter, kicking him in the ribs and stomping on his chest. Cinder
could hear ribs breaking under their continued assault.

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