Mission Apocalypse -- Session 3
We had a real milkrun today. Good thing too cause it wasn’t really a paying deal. Billy, alocal kid, wanted about of an escort moving simchips from the plant to his place. He was worried there might be trouble. Smart kid. There always might be trouble. So we – that’s me, billy, and elf-boy, plus new girl miss Theo who joined the team or something – drove to the pickup spot and waited. They took there own sweet time loading up and elf-boy was getting nervous, started nagging ’em. I walked around a bit but it did seem like they were making progress on a pallet that eventually got loaded into our truck. We drove off without incident and made it home the same way, despite a few nearby sirens.
Mission Apocalypse -- Session 2
Dear Daisy, From Vance
So our whole mixed group rode back ta town with Running Dog or whatever his Indian name is. We had our buried box for Johnny the mysterious guard, and we passed that over to Johnny the next morning unopened – not for lack of trying from Pam the drone-girl. I had kinda figured we should hold the box back until he delivered on his favor, but it worked out ok anyway.
Mission Apocalypse -- Session 1
Dear Daisy, From Vance
Well it’s been a weird few days since you stopped by with that package for me! It was a hoodie. Bright red, the ridin’ roughnecks logo. Some sort of sportsball team. Weren’t nothing I ordered, though I admit I sometimes put your address on stuff when I’m between jobs or houses.. anyways I got a call the next day saying put it on and go to this local sports bar. I was curious so I did. Turns out there was a game. The roughnecks were playing and they were the away team. The bar was full of local fans of the other team. Well, at least the hoodie would be easy to spot. I ain’t the most educated feller but even I can tell you wearing that hoodie had nothing to do with sportsball.
