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Screw You Guys, I'm Goin' Home!

Once again, gentle readers, we rendezvous for another sad tale of utter cluelessness. Did you remember your barf bags like I asked you too?

I have the horrific honour of having GMed this debacle. Why me???

Anyway, after a six-month burnout-prevention sabbatical, three weeks ago I started a new session. Everyone took new characters and after the long break they were eager to get started. For some unknown reason, I started game time on April Fools Day. This was a portent of things to come….

Spectre was a street kid, a raccoon shaman savvy in the ways of the Puyallup sprawl. Due to an upbringing in a Catholic orphanage, he DID posses a SIN.

On April 2nd he jandered on home to his apartment after meeting with some buddies and heard a scuffle in the alley next to his apartment building. Being the curious type, he decides to check it out. He slipped down the alley, past by the dumpsters, and saw a young woman being assaulted by three big n'burly goons. He immediately springs into action, casting a lightning bolt at the man holding the girl. The spell hits the target, travels through him to the girl he was holding by the neck off the ground and zaps them both. The guy was tough enough to survive but the girl was totally fried…

Oh, it gets better. MUCH better.

The three goons (and a very nice GM) beat the crap outta Spectre and leave him face down in the alley. Once again, the GM (being VERY nice) does not have some street bums find him while unconscious and strip him of his stuff. Eventually he wakes up with major bruises and headache. Not wanting to leave the poor girl in the alley, he decides to pick her up and CARRY HER TO HIS HOME! It is roughly three o'clock in the afternoon! Old Mrs. Parson's, a nosy neighbour who likes to hang on the steps, sees him coming towards her carrying a body, scorched and kinda stiff with rigour, and screams. Then she pulls out her phone and (I was quite obvious here) calls the cops. Spectre at this point realizes there is something wrong with carrying a corpse down the street of a fairly decent neighbourhood in broad daylight, so decides to just leave her on the sidewalk. He heads home to take a shower and get cleaned up.

Needless to say, within the hour Lone Star was knocking on the door! They arrest him, and take him downtown. Luckily for Spectre (it's called a GM who doesn't want to kill off a character in the first gaming session), the Star didn't check the body for magical residue until it was too late, so had no real proof that the kid actually committed the murder. They keep him locked up for two days with Huggy the Troll, and Spectre gets off on a technicality.

At this point I took the young player aside and told him, point blank, that the Star knew he did it, and were quite pissed they couldn't make a charge stick. I told him to consider he had the flaw Police Record, and if the Star had any chance to harass him, they would.

So, the next gaming session rolls around, and while the actual players were trying to plan out and do legwork on a run, Spectre and another character, the rigger Sugar Ray, decide to go party. It's Saturday night, and Dexter was having a house party. Dexter was an enemy of the Sugar Ray, and unbeknownst to Sugar Ray had planned to set him up for the murder of Dexter's girlfriend, whom Ray had been seeing on the sly. The setup goes pretty much according to plan, and after the girl was killed (and Dexter shot as well), Spectre comes out of the house. He HANGS AROUND until the cops get there.

Now you have to understand Dexter is a rich kid's boy. An assault on this fellow required Lone Star to not only show up quickly but be thorough. Soon Dexter's family Johnny Cochrane-style lawyer (on retainer) shows up. Lone Star begins to question the witnesses…

Star: Your name, sir?
Spectre: Just call me Spectre.
Star: Spectre? (raising his eyebrows)
Spectre: Yeah, just Spectre. It's my street name.
Star: Ooookay. Did you see what happened?
Spectre: Yes, that fellow over there tried to set up someone.
Star: Set up, sir?
Johnny Cochrane: Excuse me officer, can I talk to you for a minute?

OK, at this point, things were getting serious, and the PC needed to book, right fraggin NOW. So, I tell him after a patsy perception test that the hedge behind him had rustled. He turns to look and sees the branches wave, but Spectre decides it was just a dog or something, and keeps hanging around. Oh, and he uses Control Thoughts to make Dexter confess (and do you think, with a rich kid and high profile lawyer, that there will NOT be a magical trace done on the signature of that piece of derring-do? When I last checked, control spells were still severely illegal). Meanwhile, the Star and the legal beagle finished their discussion.

Star: Sir, could I see your ID please?
Spectre: Why?
Star: As a potential witness sir, we will need to be able to contact you later for further information.
Spectre: I don't have my credstick with me. It's at home.
Star: Then could we have your name, sir?
Spectre: I told you, it's Spectre.
Star: Your real name, sir.
Spectre: Alright, it's Wes Black.
Star: Your address?
Spectre: Ummmm, well I'm kinda living in a hotel right now…

At this point, I hear a collective gasp from the other players, as they realize that this person is about to reveal not only their collective squat, but bring down police notice on several of their best contacts, blowing the group's reputation to shreds…

So, the other Star asks the questioning officer to step aside with him for a minute (as the GM bravely saves the rest of the group's collective asses), and they consult a police datascreen. They mutter, look at the Spectre, and back at the screen. Something had to break here, so once again I drew the PC's attention to the hedge. This time he saw the back end of someone as THEY had the sense to book from the scene. Spectre got the hint, and followed them.

GM: OK, you squirm through the hedge, cross someone's back yard, and come out on the next block. What do you do.
Spectre: I guess I'll go home. They don't know where I live.
GM: (desperately suppressing a moaning gasp, and hoping he was just going there to pick up his things.) Alright, you make it there no problem, what are you going to do?
Spectre: I'm tired, I'll just have a shower and watch some trid.
GM: (who at this point finally gives up, and decides the PC deserves what he gets) You're watching a favorite sitcom, and someone knocks on the door.
Spectre: I'll call out "Who is it?"
Other Players: One drops his head to the table and starts to beat it against the wood. Another slouches further down in his chair and pulls his hat over his face to hide his hysterically disbelieving grin.
GM: Lone Star! Open up!
Spectre: Ummmm. I just got out of the shower. Let me get some clothes on.
GM: Open the door now or we'll open it for you!
Spectre: I jump out the window!
GM: Nope. Initiative. (he rolls, I beat him with both cops). The cops both slam into the door and it bursts open. (Gotta love Orc strength)
Spectre: My initiative? I run and jump out of the window.
GM: You're five stories up.

So to make a long LOONNGG story shorter, Spectre jumps out of the window, and manages to use a levitate spell on his next action (with really high target numbers due to falling) and land without taking damage. The Star cops run to the window after him and start shooting. Spectre was quite surprised when I pointed out that after taking a shower and settling down at home, it was highly unlikely he would be wearing armour..

So, instead of taking a sharp right and ducking into the alley, out of the line of fire, our hero decides instead to run down the street to find his bike. Even with the modifiers for target running and long range, he was spattered over the sidewalk before he made it halfway.


Yes, the player is coming back. Everyone has a learning curve, and this young fellow has a LOT to learn. I'll give him another chance. ONE more chance. After all, we always can use more material for the C.L.U.E. casefiles…

Ciao for Now,

Karen - karenmr@shadowrun.html.com

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