#gobbet shadowrun

[messerkampf]

Shadowrun: Hong Kong’s OST vinyl cover art

[subjectsix]

37. — pacify for SR Hong Kong

"He's... loafed."

"That is a... fairly apt picture. The question is why."

Gobbet and Racter are stood side-by-side in the street, the smell of gunpowder still thick in the air from the now-finished firefight. Gobbet cocks her head to the side, eyeing Koschei warily.

The drone is curled up on itself, legs tucked neatly beneath it, red eyes twinkling in the rain. A perfect 'loaf'. Cat-like, even.

"Is he safe to approach?" She asks, toeing her way forward through the rubble.

"Koschei is still under my control. Even the connection was broken, he would not rampage against you."

"Encouraging!" She kicks some bullet casings down the street, still approaching the drone like it might suddenly leap at her. "Is he just... taking a break?" Racter falls in step behind her, flicking his now-damp cigarette on the ground. He quickens his pace, crouching so that he's level with his creation, brow furrowed in thought.

"He shouldn't be," he mutters, mind racing over possible problems and fixes. The drone sits contently, turning slightly to watch them approach. "There shouldn't be any way to pacify him like this. It's not an outside disruption. Our connection is open."

Gobbet drops down into a squat next to him, wholly unable to offer any advice. She watches him work curiously, rain spilling down her cords of hair and puddling in the street.

"Glad it happened after the fight was over. Kinda needed Mr. Buzzsaw here to get those guys with the shotguns."

"Yes, well," Racter grunts as he forcibly turns the drone around, accessing a maintenance panel. "It shouldn't have happened at all."

"I think it's kind of cute, really. Our own murderous pet drone-cat. That doesn't eat rats or pee on the floor."

(one word writing prompts)

[jakdaw]

the return of gobbet for @winstoneroticroleplay

[messerkampf]

"Psst. Seattle."

Janie props herself up in her bed, turning toward her open door. Half of Gobbet greets her-- she's leaning out from behind the doorframe, nearly perpendicular with the floor, ropes of hair dangling down.

"Hi, Gobbet. Why are we fake whispering?" Janie asks, matching her tone. Gobbet slides fully into view, leaning her forehead against the wall, trying her best to look forlorn.

"I am getting too cooped up in the ship. I need get out and get moving and stuff, but I'm too bored to go anywhere alone. Iz is content in the Matrix right now, so there's no getting her out. Do you like clubs? And dancing?"

"A bit. They can be fun."

Gobbet points a finger in the direction of Duncan's room, one eyebrow raised in a silent question. Janie shuts her eyes, nodding her head. She stifles a laugh when she hears Gobbet gasp, opening her eyes to see her mouth hanging agape.

"Good luck getting him to go out."

"You can't just tell me that and then say he won't come."

"He's a great dancer."

"Stop stop stop!" Gobbet shoves her hands out. "Do not tell me anything else unless you have a way to get Gunshow out there. I have to see this now. What do we do to get him out, what's the trick?" She invites herself in, shuffling into the room and flopping down onto the end of Janie's bed. Madness and Folly poke their heads out of her hood, sniffing at the blankets.

"It won't be tonight," Janie says, folding her hands behind her head, staring up at the ceiling. "I'll go with you. It's been too long since I've done anything like that. I miss it. But we'll find a way to get him out there. He probably needs it too."

"Is that why he's so jacked?"

"He danced for a club."

"No he did not."

"He did! Keep your voice down, or he'll come over here and ask what we're talking about."

Gobbet jumps back up to her feet, pushing off of the bed, nearly sending her rats flying. They cling onto her back, scurrying and scrabbling up to her shoulders.

"Okay. First drinks on me. Let's go hatch a plan at Club 88. Or I'm going to start restlessly chewing holes in the walls or something."

[messerkampf]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Putting all my Shadowrun: Hong Kong drabbles in one place for ease of reading! The characters they feature are put in front of the chapter titles.

[messerkampf]

"Now, we want a good clean fight!" Gobbet announces. She's perched on the edge of her shelf, one foot balanced on the edge, the other propped up on a stack of personal pizza boxes. Madness and Folly scurry below her on the floor, running in and out of her pile of laundry.

"How is any of this fight fair?" Duncan asks with a confused smirk. He's leaning against her doorframe, arms crossed across his chest, trying and failing to appear disinterested. Gaichu is next to him, crouched low near the wall.

"Au contraire, fair and clean are not one in the same, Gunshow. Basically I don't want either of them to draw blood. Who are you betting on?"

"My nuyen's on Folly," Gaichu nods. "She's getting good at grappling. She's learned from last time." Gobbet's rats blast out of a rumpled shirt sleeve and past an unplugged kettle.

"Why no blood? I don't think you'd notice if they added to the mess in here."

"Har har, thank you. If they're fighting hard enough to draw blood, that means they're actually pissed, and not just goofing off. This is all in good fun! Like you and Seattle."

Madness suddenly appears atop a stack of pillows and leaps, soaring through the air and landing on Folly in a flurry of squeaks. The two become a blurry, beeping mess of claws, feet, and tails.

"This is goofing off?" Duncan asks incredulously.

"Yeah! I think so. I uh. I hope so."

The motion suddenly stops as Madness pins Folly down, jamming her nose up against her neck and laying across her. Folly squeaks in protest before finally lying still.

Duncan holds his hand out with a smirk as Gaichu sighs, wordlessly passing him his winning bet.

[messerkampf]

fic wip

Janie looks at her friend, then back to the Troll below. He’s in an animated conversation with Frederick Ka Fai, gesturing broadly to the bike. Frederick does his best to seem only slightly impressed, but once the other Troll revs the engine, sending an electric purr echoing down the street, he can’t keep a tusky smile back.

Gobbet nearly whines at the sound of it, propping her chin back up in her hands again, staring out across the bay. Folly scurries up onto Gobbet’s head, sniffing wildly at the air, leaning toward the bike.

“It’s too nice a machine to be around here,” Duncan muses, resting his arms on the railing. “Far cry from all those modded bikes in the barrens. What did you used to call them?”

“Crotch rockets,” Janie nods. Gobbet snickers. “Yeah, those all sucked. They got the job done and then went fast. All the wannabe Go-Gangers tried to get them. So you could kill anyone in your way. Or launch yourself over the handlebars into the fence, skidding across the street.”

“You make it sound like you watched that happen.”

“We did,” Janie and Duncan answer simultaneously.

[messerkampf]

Gobbet: Duncan, look, it’s the good kush!

Duncan: it’s the dollar store. how good can it be