(setting) DeckCon 207X!

| >In a non descript place in the most normal, non-assuming part of the megacity of GLITCH CITY, there is a certain building, be it a residence, a warehouse, an abandoned Stuffer Shack, or even a long condemned clinic. Perhaps its all four, and maybe the contents therein is connected through myriad tunnels, safehouses, the remnants of a terrifying war barely a few years past.

>In any case, the interior is not what it seems, and if you are here, and have entered the premises, one of a few things must have occurred...

>You received a CODED MESSAGE and solved it, giving you the address and method of entry.

>You were SNOOPING AROUND, and through the sheer blessings of RNGesus you found yourself within the building(s) which lead to manmade spectacles beyond your imagining.

>You probably KILLED someone who had this information and took their place. Asshole.

>Your INVESTIGATIONS lead you to this den of scum and villainy, and you find yourself on the precipice of entering a world that has rarely seen the light...

>Or perhaps how you entered is your own story to tell. Either way, before you stands a simple lift of archaic design, its corrugated metal and old fashioned pulleys the ancestors of an ancient age, the age of the Analogue...

>...is that a HORIZON Security camera gazing at you in the corner?

>As you descend, you feel the slow rhythmic thump of some otherworldly noise strum through the air, vibrating your decrepit vehicle and yourself. The thumping only grows louder as you continue, your destination coming into sight as the boring concrete walls around you give way into numerous thick wires, ventilation shafts, indoor plumbing. Perhaps you even find yourself humming. Maybe the noise makes you relax, as you remember just what kind of chummer this place was built for.

>Perhaps it puts you on edge, knowing full well how difficult it will be to get out of this place, once you get in.

>For many others, it will be the uncanny sounds of boots and cats, forever changing places with each other in tune to the lights and beat.

>For this is the DECKER CONVENTION.

>And hell... it's about time.

| >The elevator descends and you find yourself at ground floor. Above you the "sky" is the color of television, tuned to a dead channel...

>...which occasionally changes to display a variety of logos, clearly the handles and work of talented... troubleshooters. A familiar smiling yellow circle flits by, appearing to "look down" on you and your entourage before flying away, as another handle of yet another decker yeets itself across the ceiling.

>You are not the first, and you will not be the last, person to arrive- this event's scheduled to go on all week, which means it'll probably be going on all month, or even longer, if the participants will it. Between the crush of people and the insane spectacle of lights, sound, and flesh, it may be a little bit difficult to get your bearings. Thankfully, as if reading your mind, the ceiling suddenly lights up a large green arrow toward a kiosk, which looks like someone stole a bank ATM and repurposed it.

>...wait. That's exactly what it is.

>Welcome to Decker Con 207X chummer, hope you enjoy your stay!

>There's a variety of things to do and people to see here. Please make yourself at home!

>However, before you can join in the festivities, we have a few onboarding steps to go through...


1) Thou shalt not discharge live firearms on the premises, lest ye be discharged by firearms yeself.

2) Thou shalt not shank, slice, stab, or any synonym thereof, another guest, lest thou shall be reduced to freshly julienned man or android meat.

3) Thou shall be excellent to each other, and respect thineselves as if everyone were named Mister and Missus Johnson, because they may very well be.

4) Thou shall apply rules one and two not just to meatspace, but to the Matrix, save for within the rules of the Arena.

5) Haggling and bartering are oki doki artichoki, and covers all forms of currencies, standard and unstandard.

6) This is an invite only event. What this means is that we already know. :) And we are always watching.

7) Shadows Die in Darkness.

>As the rules finish, you find yourself in an informational brochure that shows you the various sections of the convention. In this respect, it's not very different from most "normal" events, and you find the following available:










>The final section is not selectable... but every other segment gives you two rundowns of what's going on, one brief, and one thorough. From here, you're now free to explore the convention at your leisure. What wonders will you find, horrors you'd uncover, and misfits you'd meet?

(Note: For all intents and purposes, this is a "regular" settings thread, although it's really several settings smushed into one... which is basically a convention. There may be some special events that will require switching to the community discord, but those will organized as they become relevant. To start, select which part of the convention you want to attend, or just integrate it into your post. Enjoy~)

(Nota bene 2: There may be combat.)

| "Well they certainty went all out on this whole thing... though I'm not really sure what they were thinking with how they wrote those rules, too wordy."
>The young man in the blue trenchcoat says after scanning his eyes over the kiosk, shaking his head but not really surprised about the whole thing.
"Hmm... which place to check out first maybe the..."
>He looks over the kiosk again, deciding on heading towards the Artificer's Alley.

| >>813392

>This spacious underground section has two enormous concrete tubes running across the ceiling which has been tastefully decorated by several refurbished viewscreens, some of which appear to be tablets and desktop monitors circa the early 2020's strapped to each other with VGA wires and duct tape.

>Their garish, brightly lit and amateurly designed advertisements hawk wares from all kinds of stores- one screen shows .jpx files clearly copy pasted from corporate websites showing ball-busting deals on vehicles ranging from Yellowjacket military choppers to the humble electric scooter, while another touts "GENU-WINE ARES MILITARY GRADE SWORDS WITH MONOMOLECULAR SHARPNESS" and "NERV-7 Anti-Riot canisters," to give a few. These are totally legal and not at all restricted to the general public, is the impression they may or may not trying to give.

>But perhaps that isn't the main point of these digital signs at all. Maybe their real purpose is to illuminate the many rows, and rows, and *rows* of foldable tables lining the "alley," each separated into little stalls, uniquely decorated with riff and raff. To your right, a young man with goggles affixed to his head waves you over as he pulls out three different decks from a knapsack and spread its out between two large plastic bins full of chips and crudely written signs. One such sign says "ULTIMATE KHAOS!"

"Oi, choomba!" >He calls out to you,

"Or choomer, as it were! Whatever slang you speak, yer' KHAO's friend now, chummer! Don't think I didn't see that piece on ya!"

| >>813399
>The young man grins, he knows he's trying to butter him up, might as well pretend it's working.
"Well it's hard to not notice one of these things when they're on your back."
>He walks towards the table.
"I see you got a couple there yourself as well."

| >>813405

"Hell to ya, chummer! Each of dese slabs of ULTIMATE are a KHAO original, ya, put together by yours truly."

>He eyes your piece, and you see him nod approvingly- a little bit of the showmanship seems to drop from his face and he goes from a cursory glance to something closer to an inspection.

"...Hah. A masterwork, that frankenstein ya got. ALMOST as good as one of my rigs, no offense of course! Can I interest you in something novahot?"

| >>813409
"Well we can go back and forth about how novahot your customs are but how about we talk specs first then I'll see if I'm interested."
>The man says with a grin, clearly not new to this process.

| >>813417

"Aight, clear, cute, and right to the solution, real wiz chummer." >The merchant says, pushing aside the bins and boards on the table to make way for a bin sized space. He reaches underneath the table and pulls up a large black box that had been sealed with an analogue code key lock, which he swiftly enters the combination for. The box releases a bit of air as its opened, revealing...

>A series of high end and experimental ESP chips:

>DOOMSAVER v0.3: A purely defensive program designed to vore the entirety of a hostile attack, collapsing the damage into a null space that is impossibly small- apparently, -1 bytes if you can believe it. Naturally, this destroys the chip after its used. Also naturally, there's no telling how effective it is, and against whom... or what... it works.

>VOLTRIDER beta: An electrical based ESP which, upon a successful attack, attempts to shortcircuit the enemy deck or frame by forcing battery capacitors to overclock and shock the system its connected to. The danger to the user is obvious- it could either backtrace, or accidentally overclock the enemy to overpower you.

>PSYCH OUT (unknown version number): The hell is this? "Gain the knowledge of the astral spheres and turn it against your foes."

>As well as a couple of new decks, including:

>A Mk.3 Stephenson Tech brand cyberdeck, almost mint-clean. You can even still see a flavor text sticker, as if this had just been pulled, unopen, from a factory warehouse: "A cyberdeck that, according to some, can prolong orgasms. Thanks to its optimized protocols, this preem-tier machine will squeeze the effectiveness out of your daemons to the very last drop."

>A Fuchi Cyber 5- a robust deck, but one that would have been midline a decade ago or so. Dependable but nothing too special. It looks like it's seen some use but whomever previously owned it must have kept it in good condition- unless that's just KHAO's refurbishing job.

>And last but not least, A Fuchi Cyber 7- several steps up above the other deck, if the previous deck were a Honey Bee value burger, this one is the most expensive /burg/brand burger joint family super happy funtime meal. It looks like its barely been touched- the thing still has cellophane, for christ's sake.

>KHAO finishes explaining his "special" wares and looks up at you eagerly.

"Will that be eddies or nuyen, chummer?"

| >>813423
"What the drek does that even mean..?"
>The man says, pointing at the Psych Out chip, before turning his attention to the the deck. Of course there's a horny deck nothing surprises him.
"And how much are we talking for the Cyber 7?"

| >>813426

>KHAO picks up the hapless chip and examines it carefully- its chrome colored but there's an odd quality to said chrome, as if someone had wrapped it in tin foil and tried to flatten it out, but only after it had been crumpled to hell and back first.

"Heh. This thing. Well, believe it or not, some lass who thought herself a 'aspirant of the ancients' and possessed 'a third blind eye of a third eye blind' sold this to me, but not before she revealed the names of my last three ex's."

>There's an awkward beat.

"...anyway, after choking her out a bit, she finally admitted that this thing gives you the cybernetic version of telewhatzits... uh... it attempts to read any pre-loaded programs an enemy decker or ESP has up its sleeve, and lets you know what yer opponent's about to do before they do em! Pretty cool eh?"

"As fer the Cyber 7... make me an offer." >He smiles.

| >>813423
>The man squints his eyes, looking over the table and he thinks about it for a moment.
"25k nuyen for the deck, and I'll give another 5k if you and that voodoo chip and the DOOMSAVER."

| >>813453

>KHAO's eyes glint and he starts bagging the Cyber 7 and the chips. That was... surprisingly easy.

"Sold, chummer! And hey, let me know how those chips do in the field, yeah? Maybe i'll have some new gear for ya next year, haha!"

(To clarify, did you buy all the chips or only the spooky chip and the doomer chip?)

| >>813457
(The two chips)
>I'm suddenly feeling like I'm getting ripped off here... well there has got to be at least 1 decent part I can cannibalize out of that deck.
"So you've never tried them yourself then... good to know."
>Good thing there's a convenient place to try this stuff out here...

| >>813461

"Hey hey hey! Don't be that way- if it makes you feel better, I didn't scalp these off any wasted chummer, nosiree... well. At least not these three. The one yer you're holding right now was traded in for a gen-u-INE Fairlight Excalibur I had in stock, ohohoho man... that thing was a beaut. Butttt business is business."

| >>813462
"Damn I wouldn't mind putting some parts from something like *that* in my deck but I guess I'll have to keep looking."
>The man feels the weight of his bag in his hand.
"Know if they got any workshops around here too?"

| >>813466

"Oh hell yeah! You can ask Sharkman a little ways down here- they make custom decks and got a whole workshop's worth of crap that you can use to put stuff together if they let you. I also hear there's a few interactive panels going on, bringing these razor kids up to speed on how to properly, well, deck. Ask around, make some friends..."

| >a girl enters the convention center from the front entrance. They have a tired look in their eyes as though they haven't slept in a long time though they seem energetic enough once they see the deck tech. Followed behind her is a guy with long hair down to his back wearing baggy clothes and has his hands in his pockets.

| >>813471

>Where do you go first?

| >>813472
>Food court if there is one.

| >>813468
"Thank you... Khao?"
>He almost asks, almost unsure how to pronounce the name.
"See you around chummer."
>He starts walking off towards where indicated.

| >>813473
>You should read the opening posts to avoid confusion.
>>813377 >>813378 >>813386
>You make your way through the throng of guests and sporadic lighting into what looks like it may be an underground food court- above you, a bright marquee sign screams CANTEEN in scrolling white LED's and a wave of fresh barbecue and motor oil plows through your senses like an ocean front property-

>Somehow, *somehow*, three literal food trucks have been parked here, each a unique operation onto themself- the first is designed like a MONSTER TRUCK and has a gigantic burger, patty and all, sticking out the roof of the vehicle along with a tall ramp leading up to the ordering counter and menu.

>The second appears to be the most "normal" of the bunch, a classic vehicle that looks like it rolled off the factory in the 1950's. This, too, has an open window where a middle aged gentleman with rectangular glasses and a bandanna is serving out plates of a thick, long sandwich with meat that resembles and old processed canned meat that was popular in the late twentieth century. How anyone makes that smell appealing is beyond most's understanding.

>The third... what.

>The third appears to be... an ice cream truck. There is a large, freakish "clown" face sticking out of the roof of the truck, that has a gigantic smile, and... uh... seems to be on fire. The counter to this truck is open, but no one seems to be in line. A grisly "open" sign is stuck out front which appears to be covered in strawberry juice. Yes. Strawberry juice.

>Aside from the food trucks, there are rings of smaller stalls replete with barbecue spits and portable stoves where cheaper, fried fair is being prepared. A large number of prefab tables are also set up here, most completely taken over by all manner of night-dwelling denizens and their eccentric clothing, makeup, and colored hair.

>There's also a tiny lemonade stand here that appears to be made out of plywood.

| >>813475

>Do you head toward the Sharkman's workshop, or visit one of the Panel rooms?

| >>813485
>Sharkman's workshop

| >Someone else walks into the Convention
>An exceedingly tall woman, standing at around seven feet tall, lugging a gigantic box on her back, holding it with a single strap hanging off their back
>An albino with white hair and red eyes, wearing what seems like some fancy witch hat, a long coat tied in front of her chest and flare cut pants with holes on the inner thigh, all covered in corporate imaging and an ID card reading: "Ro-Hwuang, LEADSEAL CTD. Special Consultant."

| >>813735
>She heads towards Artificer's alley, lugging the massive box through the crowd with practiced ease

| >A slightly small person makes their way into the convention center, wearing colorful thigh-high socks and a dark hoodie, covering their messy blonde hair which barely hid their tired green eyes highlighted by dark circles.
>It was a girl, Tired and languid, with a Commdeck strapped to her thigh. She sighed loudly.
>One would notice the impressive Aug she had installed on her left arm, covered in white marbled plating.
>She headed to the Artificer alley with slow steps...

| >>813486

>You head further down the alleyway which has grown considerably more populated since you first arrived, with all manner of shadowrunner and nether-do-well filling the cramped quarters to buy and sell. Sharkman's stall is easy enough to find, and that's not just because of the enormous stylized "shark mouth" draped across the table.

>"Sharkman" is a dark skinned man in a titular grey shark hooded sweater, whose hood resembles that of a shark's gaping maw, complete with dozens of triangular teeth. He's looking between a small tablet computer and a vintage VR headset as you approach, constantly swapping out chips and arranging them neatly into a slotted display rack, much resembling a case for vintage gameboy cartridges. He gives you a once over and flashes a toothy grin.

"Peace, chummer. You got enough decks there for a plus one?"

>In the back, a small shark tail seems to wag behind some curtains, followed by a soft childlike humming as someone works behind the scenes.

>>813735 >>813740

>The tall woman's height allows them to see over a great many of the denizens filtering into the underground convention center, but you're not the only tall person here- notably a couple individuals whose height is due to augmented "blades" for legs turn in your direction, their red monocular eyes scanning first you, and then the curious box on your back. One of them, a long white haired woman with a resting bitch face, turns her non red eye toward her partner without moving her head- her lips part slightly, speaking some silent quip.

>You head toward Artificer's Alley, following the helpful LED signage festooned everywhere and navigating around the throngs of excited people as they enter and exit the premises. A man with a five o'clock shadow, an unkempt pony tail, and wearing what appears to be a bath robe looks briefly up at you before quickly dodging out of the way- he pulls a child with pigtails along, who tries to stop for a moment to ogle you and your box. No time for rudeness, lass.

>Thanks to your height, you have a better view of not only the advertisements lining the ceiling, but also the many stalls lining this very claustrophobic alley... especially some that are a bit out of the way, snugly pressed into corners behind pillars and discarded cardboard boxes, as if intentionally hidden...


>By contrast, the small person would be mostly ignored by the denizens of the convention, an unfortunate prejudice afflicting all height disinclined peoples. The saving grace is the intricate augment on your arm, which, especially when you enter the Alley proper, is immediately noticed by more than a few vendors- especially the first, a mister... KHAO, who calls out to you-

"Hey chummer!" >They call out, setting down some newly acquired creds to gesticulate in your direction,

"Yeah, you with the fancy brace on your arm! Is that custom? Real wiz, lemme see it yeah?" >He chortles. Of course, whether you entertain him is up to you. There's a lot more to see before this place gets crowded.

| >>813951
>The tall albino simply takes in the sights
>The looks have not gona unnoticed however, but do not seem to elicit any reaction from her
>The box itself is a tall and slim affair, just as tall as she is and slung over her shoulder by the single strap she holds
>It is covered in dim blue lights and many, many stickers, memorabiliia and other tacked on additions
>Most noticeably the large white letters: "DEATH UNTO DAWN!"
>The woman stops to gaze at the stalls and wares

| >>813961

>As you gaze upon the stalls, the stall vendors gaze back at you- but only when they think you're not watching. The majority of the people here are deckers or decker adjacent, which makes sense in this line of work since the convention's chiefly for netrunners and the like. But that also means custom operating systems, home made tech, and jailbroken megacorp mechanics, the kind of which would sell for a pretty penny through "normal" channels.

>Still, even a decker's gotta defend themself, and that's why you'll also notice more than a few stalls that specialize in guns, and guns only. In fact one of them's trying to get your attention right now. Little place with an unassuming name... "MAXIMUM DAMAGE!"

"Hey up there! How's the weather?" >A short, stout woman with a bountiful bodice says up at you, dual wielding two pistols with extended melee butts built into the grips,

"Nice box you got there, you a musician or something?"

| >>813951
>The small girl shrinks a bit when confronted by the tall people at the convention
"W-Wha? h-huh? My armz?"
>She bites her tongue after speaking like a machine-gun, sweating bullets.
>She still approcahes, grasping at her aug with her other, still fleshy arm.
"Y-yeah, it's custom made, but it's huh, not a brace."
>Her voice was shaky and filled with nervosity, she was obviously some kind of antisocial person.

| >Another new face enters the convention.
>The girl stood at about 5'2". Her long black messy hair, down to her upper back. Her whole outfit was simply a black tee with a print of a kitten, an open grey hoodie, a short blue skirt, a pair of stripped thigh highs, bottomed by a pair of black boots.
>On her shoulder was a drone modeled to look like a hawk.
>Looking at the locations, she hums to herself and ultimately decides to follow the crowd to Artificer's Alley.

| > A well-dressed woman entered and gazed at the information brochure before headed for the PANEL ROOMS.

> She was dressed sharply, a grey suit up and down with her brown hair pulled back into a tight bun. Round glasses adorned her face, highlighting the heavy bags underneath her eyes.

> A simple notepad sat in her hand, but a hefty pager was strapped to her thigh.

| >>813963
"Nice and warm up here."
>The woman answers, while she speaks proper and perfect english, it was with an accent sounding as Korean as her name
"And yeah. I'm something of a muscician..."
>She stands in front of the stand and lets go of the box's strap, letting it rest on the ground with a very heavy thud, seems it can stand fine without support
"I see you're packing a few tools I could use for my next piece, too. Glad to meet you."
>She crosses her arms

| >>813951
>The young man grins, not exactly expecting for his work to be watched on but what can he do when he's borrowing a workshop.
"Heard this was a good place to tinker, wanted to see what was worth ripping out of this Cyber 7 I just bought."

| >>813967

>KHAO chortles and rubs his hands together, his cybergoggles glowing even amongst the heavy neon of the Alley, like a techno hunter on the prowl.

"Not a brace eh? You could have fooled me. Whatcha packing then? You got a nuclear arsenal in that work of art?"

>He leans over his table to get a better view, clearly underestimating just how short the visitor was.


>The Artificer's Alley is well and truly flushed with people at this point, so much so that lines are forming just to get down said alley from one place to the other. This would almost be a fire hazard, if the underground nature of the event didn't preclude it from fire codes.

>In particular, a very, very tall woman speaking with a weapons vendor seems to be forming a few spectators and gawkers of her own, some of whom attempt to discreetly take photos of her and her mysterious box.
>Others still push and dodge around each other as they try to scout out the various deckers and other mercenaries of the night, making their way toward the most extravagant stalls or the ones with some kind of gimmick- at least a few shopkeepers have taken the "Booba" route, wearing revealing lingerie that accents their decorative chrome plating and hardened skillwires.

>At least one stall is blasting music- indeed, a bonafide Rockerboy was in the middle of setting up speakers and an electric guitar earlier in this scene. He strums a fantastic looking axe lovingly, and strikes a tune, grabbing the attention of at least a few con-goers who flock over immediately. The stall has emblazoned across the front: "KILLAMANJARO."


>Compared to Artist- er, I mean, Artificer's Alley, the PANEL ROOMS are considerably less crowded, at least for now, as half the panel rooms stand empty for the moment. Some doors are shut with giant sketchpads detailing scheduled events attached to them, but a couple are still open, with muted voices within. It looks like they'll be starting within a few minutes!

MISTER JOHNSON AND YOU- How to get the most bang out of YOUR buck!

HOW TO NOT DIE, or Why blowing your first paycheck on a Panther Assault Cannon is the last purchase you'll ever make.

>The second panel has a crudely drawn yellow star on it, with the words "Razorkid Recommended!" written next to it in cutesy lettering. It's then immediately spat on by a very stereotypical punkish looking youth who couldn't be older than 15. All he's missing is the pink mohawk.


"You see roight!" >The woman says, holstering her dual pistol-whip-centric- firearms in dual holsters on her dual shoulders.

"Name's Tammy Two Guns, not to be confused with that freak of nature what be on the Matrix lately claiming she can talk with stars or some drek. An' this here stall is MAXIMUM DAMAGE! If'n ya need somethin' blown up, ah'm yer gal! Nice ta meet ya!"

>She looks in and around you at the small gathering of razorboys and girls who aren't as discrete as they think they are with photographing you and your box.

"An ah see you brought along an entourage... more the merrier!"


>The Shark grins.

"Ya bought that? Hope it was a fair price fella, Cyber 7's at least a generation or two outta date. Aye ain't stingy tho, help yerself to my tools but mind the merchandise." >So saying, he gently pushes aside his product and reveals a well kept toolbox filled with all kinds of tools and gadgets, similar to what you got at home.

"Also, do me a favor and don't connect to the local net if yer gonna try those chips. I just spent all last night rutting my rig out after a run."

"AH DIDN'T DO ET!" >Calls a female squeak from the back! The shark tail waggles violently.

"See what I mean?" >The Sharkman's about to turn back to his own diagnostics, when he looks back up at you and scrutinizes your face.

"Say... do I know you from somewhere chummer?"

| >>814143
"I get that a lot, guess I just got one of those faces."
>The young man says, neither confirming or denying Sharkman's question.
"Don't worry I won't mess with your connection, figured best place to test it was the Arena, assuming this drek works like how he said. Anyways what are you working on?"
>He keeps talking as he takes out the Cyber and starts taking out the backpanel to see what is worth ripping out of this thing. 2 gens back is enough for something decent.

| >Another figure can be seen entering the convention; their apprarance immediately out of place with their shades of brown and breeches and tricorne hat, reminescent of the revolutionary war long past. A scarf is tied around their face, leaving only their green eyes for others to see. What seems to be a flintlock pistol seems to hang by their side. What's more, what seems to be a crow is perched on his shoulder. The only thing that looks modern is the flip-up display on his arm.

| "I don't know about this, crow, you're sure about this message of yours?"

>The figure, a male, speaks out, seemingly to nobody. To one's surprise, perhaps, the crow responds;

"Obviously, caw, this is totally an AWESOME convention, at least according to what I gathered, caw."

>The man sighs, he picks up a brochure and looks through it.

"Well, whatever, I'm hungry, let's go to the canteen."

>He finally says, as he walks toward the canteen.

| >>814143 >>813979
>The girl whispers something to the hawk drone as it takes flight. She gives it a small wave as it begins to fly around.
>Slipping past the crowds, she also takes notice at the box, mostly at its stickers.
>She whispers before looking over at the shop.
"Ah! I can get more friends!"

| >>814145

"Roight..." >Sharkman says, clearly suspicious but he drops it immediately.

"Me? Scanning some simsense chips to make sure the safeguards are still in place... and that they don't burn out after one use. Vanny is pretty anal about makin sure we don't have ourselves another beetle infestation, an' she'll fry the ass of anyone caught pushin' em, especially with the kiddies." >So saying, he slots another chip into his headset, which lights up a few seconds, before pulling it out and repackaging it.

"Hell, ah don't blame her! That said, ah'm no pusher either. We got enough schizos out on the street, y'know what ah'm sayin'?"

>Meanwhile, you help yourself to his toolbox and start taking apart the Cyber 7, an easy task given how much you've done this at this point. As soon as the first panel comes free, you immediately spot some DDR9 class ramsticks, sitting at around 64gigs a pop- outdated, definitely, but still serviceable in most rigs, and hey, who can pass up more ram?

>There's more to go, but since these devices are built for live combat, it's not exactly the easiest to open up. You'll probably be done with this one in... oh I don't know, three posts or so, assuming something doesn't distract you from your work, or the OP doesn't fast forward for plot reasons.

"You interested? Got a few vintage chips here... got a shipment of the Winter 2050 hit, "Paper Trails" in stock."

>Or that.

>>814146 >>814147

>Your unique appearance does not go unnoticed at all- more than a few people attempt to stop you as you make your way toward the CANTEEN, asking for photos!

"Yooooo check out the larper!"

"Man, everyone's got a gimmick these days..."

"Hey, don't cos-shame!"

>As you push your way toward the CANTEEN, a small following... following in your awake, you find yourself in a enormous dome filled with tables, of which at least 80% were now taken and occupied, at least when they weren't being combined together into mega tables. At least four folding plastic monstrocities have formed into a makeshift stage, where a very drunk looking go-gang wannabee with a pink face, an oversized incisor, and a barrel sized belly appears to be wrestling with a tiny girl who is clothed somewhere between a an old-timey pirate and a Sultanate prince. The crowd surrounding this table has grown so large that the line for the MONSTER BURGER FOOD TRUCK has somehow merged together, such that customers scaling the high ramp for burgers are immediately vored by the crowd on their way down.

>There's two other food trucks here that aren't quite as crowded, thankfully- one of which is a vintage vehicle that looks like it was manufactured in the 1950's but is immaculately cared for. A middle aged man with a thick mustache, headband, and rectangular glasses smiles as he hands out a delicious looking, if slightly plain, sandwich that consists of a white patty of some kind, lettuce, tomato, and burger buns. He also has ketchup and mustard condiments sticking out of the vehicle's service window.

>The third food truck... uh...

>The third food truck still has no customers, for some reason. Maybe it has something to do with the large flaming clown faced skull sticking out of the roof. It's clearly open, or so says the sign. Who knows what they sell?


>From your vantage point, the hawk drone can see the entirety of the retrofitted tv and computer monitors strapped to the ceiling, as well as almost all of the stalls currently available in this tight room. There's a couple stalls that were either set up last minute or squeezed into whatever small space they were alotted- a group of sukeban-looking girls are even setting up a makeshift stage, one of them scowling at the KILIMANJARO stall as the latter erupts into a song or three.

>Near the edges of the alleyway, you see what appears to be a small grill frying up foodstuffs that consist of three breaded balls dressed with wasabi mayo and skewered on bamboo sticks. There's also a large, tank-treaded drone rolling into place, its handler inspecting a large proboscis- like arm which occasionally discharges a small bit of electricity.

"Friends, ye say?" >KHAO responds to you, thinking that you're replying to him.

"Well chummer, I won't say *no* to that if that's what you need."

| >>814028

> Opting between the two of them, the sharply dressed woman decided to check out the second one if only because it appeared slightly more entertaining. While she didn't need to know how not to die, perhaps her... beneficiary could do with some extra information.

> She stared at the doodles next to the panel advertisement for a few moment before finally stepping through the doors and finding herself a seat. A short click of her pen later, she was ready to take notes.

| >>814156
>Well the ram is a good place to start then. The young man puts his deck down and starts taking off the back panel as well, the black and cobalt blue frame giving way to a mishmash of deck parts and some custom pieces with a weird gloss on them.
"Nah, I don't really have much time to enjoy simsense nowadays."
>He keeps talking while zooming into the internals of the deck with his aug eye, transferring over the RAM before seeing what else he can pull off of this thing.

| >>814156
>After a few seconds of the crow's eyes glowing blue, it immediately retorts to the crowd.

"Well, technically, caw, my master is an reenactor, not a LARPer or a cosplayer, caw. Although he is still technically what they call a 'farb', you see, he-"

>The crow's speech was cut short, when rhey reach the cafeteria and the man gives him an order.

"Crow, mute yourself."

>The man quickly weighs his option before walking over to the second food truck.

| >>814156
>The girl was taken a little off guard, looking through the eyes of her hawk on her small tablet-sized deck, making mental notes, specifically the food, the sukeban girls, and more importantly the tank.
“Hm? Oh! Yep! I have a lot of friends, you see. Both drones and guns~!”
>Sending a command to send the hawk to the foodstall first, she puts her deck away and smiles wide at Khao.
“So, what sort of friends are you offering, mister…”

| >A lazily dressed, busty lady wanders into the convention, wearing an ill fitted suit, only bothering with one shoulder. She pus at her collar and whistles

"Fancy. Well, Mr. L, let's see if you can't be a good wingman, atleast."

>Now, where would be a good place to find a date, the STALLs maybe?

| >>814157


>No sooner are you through the doors than a loudly annunciated sound effect sails from the front of the room to the back, the force of which seemingly sends a young ragamuffin hurtling into his seat, as if the voice alone had the force of fifty men. The speaker, a dark skinned man with a well kept goatee and dreadlocks, smiles knowingly and straightens the bright red tie of a well tailored suit. His eyes seem to glow as he passes over the clearly frazzled youth, the already seated guests, and you.

"Come in, come in- we're actually pretty on time, which is saying something for this biz."

>He says as he straightens his cufflinks. Looking around you, you become immediately aware that the crowd here isn't all aspiring cyberpunks and teens playing hooky from school, (either fairly unlucky teens or fairly smart ones, if the difficulty in even reaching this convention is any indication) but a vast assortment of the unexpected- grizzled veterans who've clearly been in one war too many.

>Shifty looking fellows with high collars and thick pockets.

>A nervous looking, college aged woman who fiddles with a purse as she keeps her legs and arms safely seated within her chair at all times, dressed in business casual.

>A nearing middle aged blonde woman with short hair, green eyes, and two small pigtails. She's wearing a tuxedo complete with gloves, and has a cane lane across her chest- she's missing a leg.

"E-excuse me pardon me, is this seat taken?" >Comes a voice to your left. There's... there's another young woman here, except, uh, she appears to be wearing... cardboard armor.

>Expertly *crafted* armor made of cardboard, no doubt- to an untrained eye it may even look like some kind of brightly colored, shiny, weapons grade power suit that walked right off the set of a sentai film, but upon closer inspection, even an amateur can tell that it's strictly for show only.

>She has her hands clasped together in standard "please forgive me" style, and she faces you with a slight bow.


"Chip truth? What a shame." >Sharkman says as he returns to reviewing each simsense chip with a critical eye- enough that he immediately tosses the next chip into a bin hidden under the table, his mouth clicking in dissatisfaction.

"Fry my ass..." >He repeats to himself.

>You continue to pull apart your newly purchased deck... and discover a high end high capacity crystal matrix drive! The writer doesn't know how they should scale the size capacity of this device since in the 2020's they're already up to several terabytes and it's only going to grow exponentially as miniaturization improves, so needless to say, this is a pretty large find.

>There's only one problem- it seems to already have content in it. Wasn't this a like-factory-new device? Inb4...

>There's movement in the back as a short person in a blue shark hoodie runs up from the back and dives under the table, futzing about with whatever's hidden beneath. The bin where Sharkman had tossed the detected BTL chip vanishes soon after, but you still spy a blue "shark tail" dancing from beneath said table.


>You mute your crow a tad too late- your entourage has become quite enamored with both your get up and your crow, and continue to follow and conversate from a safe distance in case you pulled your flintlock pistol on them.

>You avoid the obnoxious mess of a line and throng of people and head to the most normal food truck of the bunch, which on closer inspection *does* seem to have a mascot of its own... a... cartoon... uh... chicken of some kind that smiles at you, next to a sign that says KITCHEN GORDON.

>As you approach the service window, a middle aged man with a few gray whiskers on his mustache pops his head out, smiling warmly. He has a black bandanna, thick rectangular glasses, and a blue Hawaiian shirt dressed beneath a black apron. You also likely notice that he's fairly well built, for a food truck vendor.

"Welcome! What can I get you?"


"Name's KHAO! Of ULTIMATE KHAOS cyberstuff emporium. Nice ta meet ya cutey."

>Your tablet-deck does not escape his notice.

"Pretty nifty rig you got there honey, and here I thought zoomers were all into those ear-based commlinks or whatnot. As fer friends, it seems like you got the meatspace stuff settled-"

>He pulls out some cyberdeck chips- they have miniature pixelated monsters on them.

"...so how about adding some cpu DAEMONS to your setup? They're collectible!"

>Your hawk approaches the food stall, getting a better look at the mouth watering fried snacks which are identified as takoyaki from the stall's signage. A few newly prepared balls are set on the side facing away from the stall's storefront, just waiting to be packaged and consumed.


>Do you perhaps mean the Artificer's Alley? By this point the area has been crowded to a stand still, by which I mean, it's difficult to move unless you have wings or... get creative.

>From your vantage point, you do see the stalls and persons closes to the outer ring- there's a shifty decker here talking to a small girl,

>A tall woman discussing weaponry with a shortstack,

>And the sound of loud techno-rock music is emanating from somewhere within the center of this "dome." Although faint, you also hear the sounds of some other group starting up their own number, as if trying to compete with the sheer, killer wrath of the other band that's currently clogging up the audiospace.

>Alternatively, why bother with the "main" entrance? You could also try circumnavigating this area... who knows what secrets you'll find?

| >>814168
"What would you recommend for a sandwich?"

>The figure asks the well-built vendor, not paying much heed to the group following him.

"Oh, and something to drink."

>Crow acts overly eager on his shoulder, staring intently at his master, obviously not happy with being muted. The man looks at him and sighs.


>He finally says, the crow immediately starts speaking.

"Just chickens for me, caw!"

| >>814168
"Fufu~ Nice to meet you too, Mister Khao~!"

>Taking another glance at her deck, her eyes widened a little bit.

"Taka-chan, amazing find~!"

>She nods and instructs the hawk to come back. In reply to Khao's comment, she grins smugly.

"You think so~? Sometimes I use a pair of glasses since they're more convenient when going around, but I honestly prefer using this~"

>She hums softly, taking a close look at the monsters on the chips.

"Aaahh...They're all so cute..."

| >>814143
"I mean, huh it's huh, not much"
>She nervously extends her hand to grasp at her Aug's wrist, a clicking sound is heard after she twists a moving part built into the pure white arm.
>Slowly, the plates that make-up the augment open to reveal a thin strand of metal with springs wrapped all around it. The core of the aug, with all its mechanical parts comes into full view.
>It's quite intricate, but no serial number or corporate markings adorn any of it.

| >>814168
>Ugh, crowds are sweaty, and not in a good way. The rules don't say anything about aerosols or poisons but.... Mh, Not today.

>The half suited girl saunters over to the shifty looking decker, glancing down at her collar for the nametag

"Ah! Hello there! I'm... Leonard Igma? what a lame name..."

>Leonard(?) clears her throat

"Anyway, how's it going, any sexual harassment going on?"

| >>814143 >>814149
>The freakishly tall Albino simply nods
"I'm Ro-Hwuang Jeong, just call me Ro."
>She taps on her box, which makes a whirring noise as the lights on it pulse
>Like a real "Musician" she seems to understand the importance of putting on a show
"You have anything in larger calibres? I'm looking for a marksman rifle or a handcannon."
>She jumps right into business as the box quietens back down

| >>814168
"Nah its not a bad kind of busy, at least outside of work anyways. Just family and stuff keeps something always happening during the day."
>Great something unexpected, that's what he gets for going right into ripping this thing. He starts popping his old RAM into the Cyber 7 so he can turn it on and see what the heck is this thing hiding.
"So... what is your partner in crime gonna do with the BTL chip?"

| >>814187
>The girl listens to the whirring noise and tilts her head from side to side until it quiets back down.

>She whispers to herself


| >>814168

> The well-dressed woman cringes at the loud sound before looking over the assorted crowd. Certainly not what she had expected but... it was almost appealing to not have to stare at a fourth grader's handpainting of hair colors and styles.

> She looked at the Cardboard Sentai and cleared her throat, gently gesturing.

"No, feel free to take it... That is a very interesting outfit you have on there."

| >>814169

"How about a fresh megasquid patty burger?" >The well-built vendor says with a straight face. No sooner had the words escaped his lips however than a girl's voice popped up from the back-

"We're alllll outtttttttttttt!"

>The man's face dropped immediately.

"Ahem... excuse me one moment."

>He disappears to the back of the food truck and light bickering occurs in his wake. As this goes on, the strange and vaguely threatening clown-based tertiary "food" truck seems to light up, with the "clown" mascot head bursting into actual flames.

>The vendor returns before he can lose your business, thankfully.

"Sorry about that friends- looks like the squid burger's fresh out, but we're frying up some fried dewgrass fingers and chicken bird chicken tenders if you're willing to sit tight."

>A lightbulb pops in the man's head.

"As fer drinks... we do have a few cases of Goldenrod Lager, if you're interested."


"A pair of glasses eh? Like, cybergoggles or something?" >KHAO says, sounding at least a little interested. He spreads out the chips and their pixelated monster friends on a table so you can have a better look at them- they're all legally distinct enough to not incur the wrath of the NintenLords, but familiar enough that you can probably guess the ESP they form in cyberspace.

>KHAO points out a particularly fancy dragon-looking 'mon whose cartridge literally sparkles.

"Super rare, that. A real keeper, and fairly strong too, uh, if you know how to use it."


>KHAO turns from the smol and his legally distinct monster inspired ESP chips to check out your augment.

"Custom built? Pretty wiz. From here it almost looks like a weapon of some kind- maybe a pile bunker." >For some reason, KHAO's comparing of your aug to a melee weapon rolls off the tongue a little too smoothly for the average person. Counterpoint- you're also in an underground convention full of the exact kind of people who make use of this stuff.

"I won't insult you by tryna' say that something I got here can beat that- props to you if you built it yourself." >He pulls out another black suitcase, similar to the one he pulled for the blue trench-coated man,

"But I got some customs myself, if yer interested."


>As he offers to show a possible loli his "hidden wares," the arrival of the woman in the ill fitting suit catches him off guard, causing him to literally drop the suitcase onto his foot... with unfortunate consequences.

>He bellows as the reinforced case falls on his good foot, causing a mild stir in the overly compact alley.

"N-NO THERE'S NO SEX MUCH LESS HARASSMENT!" >KHOA retorts, very suspiciously,



>Tammy Two Guns smiles wickedly and dives underneath the table, grunting as she gathers and assembles something enormous within her security boxes. You hear a scream come from the entrance of Artificer's Alley, but Tammy returns almost immediately... with an anti tank rifle of tremendous proportion.

>The bloody thing is so large it actually doesn't fit on the table, and in slamming it down, it shakes the nearby table and causes a variety of ultra rare Phunko-Popped branded vinyl figurines to clatter to the ground, much to the stallkeeper's consternation.

"Ma'am, lemme introduce ya to this brute... taken off the back of some smuggled cargo of some dandy PMC or what have you."

"She's called... The Hellsing ARMS Anti-Tank Cannon, nicknamed Harkonenn." >That seemed like quite the mouthful, even for her.

"It's over sixty kilos, thirty em em, and supports several types of ammunition in that caliber range. Alternatively, you can prolly just bludgeon someone to death with it. Beats a golf trophy."

>She sticks an arm beneath the table and returns with one such round. The label "NP" is stamped to the side, along with a logo for "Hellsing."

"Have a few of these in stock too."


>In answer, you hear the distinct sound of munching and nomming beneath the table. Sharkman smiles.

"She's destroying them, obviously. Like I said, Vanny's gonna melt my ass and pour the remnants onto my decks if she caught me hawking these. Might as well recycle the silicon, if ya get my meaning."

>There's a burp beneath the table- Sharkman pounds the top gently.

"Enough with the bit, kid."

>There's a childish chortle in response.

>You pop your old ram back into the deck and power it on to see just what's filling those lorge CDD's...

Welcome to "SeconD Actual." Please enter your username and password to continue.


>The "cardboard sentai" breaks out of her bow and takes a seat next to you, making doubly sure that her "armor" doesn't escape into your comfort bubble.

"You think so? I'm glad- it's actually a replica of the Red Mask's outfit- at least, her second generation one, the one after she... you know..."

>She looks slightly embarrassed as she mentions this, clearly taking you for being knowledgeable in whatever it is she's talking about. What does become clear to you though, is that you're not the only one who's noticed this cardboard-carrying would be sentai- the blonde woman with a missing leg, for example, is staring, almost *glaring* in your direction.

>But they turn away as soon as a clapping noise emanates from the front of the panel, from the dreads-wearing speaker. The doors to the panel room shut soon after.

"Gosh this is a lot more than I expected." >He starts of, glancing over every face in the tightly packed room, memorizing features. There's a few individuals who don't bother to take a seat, instead lining the walls nearest to emergency exits and the entrance proper. All of them are... considerably older than expected. Certainly not "newbies" in any sense of the word.

"When the Crew greenlit this drek, I was hoping a bit more of you jokers would be new to the scene- eager to eat up a little more than the smoke and ponies QUIDTRID's stuffing their craws full of." >He nods to the youth that he had sent flying with a literal word back into his seat- the punk, a teen with three facial tattoos, ripped jeans, and, you guessed it, a literal pink mohawk, scowls like he had bit into a Carolina Reaper.

"Instead its a lot of y'all that should know better. But I can't complain. Maybe old dogs can learn a few new tricks."

>He flashes his teeth.

"First question of the night..."

"...whattya think makes you a 'veteran' of the streets?"

| >>815020
>The woman eyes the comically large rifle and puts a hand around it
>She runs her gloved fingers across the weapon, her red eyes scanning over all of it
>She nods once and then lifts the gun
>*With one hand*
"Has a nice weight to it."
>She cycles the bolt and nods again
"I quite like it."
>You can see a small smile dawn on her face
"Anti-Tank Rifles are not the most wieldy pieces, but as far as big and powerful go, they cannot be beat."
>She then looks back
"How much?"

| >>815020
>The man with the crow looks at the monkey bursting into flame before the food vendor come back. He listens to the available menu and asks.

"Two chicken tenders and a lager, then."

>He orders, before giving the flaming monkey head another glance.

"You what's going on with that truck?"

>He asks the vendor.

| (*You know)

| >>815020
"By eating them!?"
>The young man eyes widen and looks somewhat concerned. He said bit but still... he is worried about this shark cosplaying pair.
>He looks down at the deck's screen.
"*sigh* This is why I wish they scrub these sometimes first now I got to break into this thing to see what's in the memory."
>He starts the process of plugging both decks together, trying to see if he can bypass the login.

| >>815020
>The girl seems a bit appalled
"A W-weapon? No it's huh, just a shock resistant model... I huh, drive a lot and all that."
>She seems almost scared of your assumption, closing the aug slowly and swivelling her shoulder.
"I-I didn't build it myself either, its just a- huh, a piece was gifted to me and all that..."
>She seems shifty, uncertain to speak further, she opens and closes her mouth like a gold-fish, no sound comes out.
>She finally mutters

| > The carboard sentai was amusing to the well-dressed woman. Not in a funny way but almost in a pitiable way.

"I'm afraid I don't know of any Red Mask, so I hate to disappoint you..."

> She looked up at the panelist with the rest of the group when the clapping began. Her pen began to move fluidly, a quick short-hand script marking the notepad as she wrote down everything he said.

> This might come in handy... there are plenty of panels, if it isn't.

| >>815020
"Mmm...Something like that, yes! If you saw me out and about, it'd probably just look like a regular pair of glasses!"

>She grins and picks up the dragon-looking cartridge, and hums softly. The hawk lands on her shoulder.

"Well...If you recommend this one then, how much would this one be~?"

Total number of posts: 63, last modified on: Thu Jan 1 00:00:00 1640058505