Shadowrun: Razor's Edge


Lovefists had a hard time sleeping that night. It was not just the concussion that Satoh had given her on his unrelentless attack, but something else. She hoped she was recovered from that injury, the group had tended to her physical wounds immediately. Watching Satoh’s bounty hunter video though had made it hurt more. Her ego, and her soul. Was she really that unprepared for bigger prey? Satoh was half machine alright, but she would be fighting a half-machine to the death in a few days. Everyone had commended LoveFists about pulling her punches for the camera, but she had not been able to think straight throughout the whole ordeal. She had just acted on instinct. It had not been enough. I’m losing my edge. It made for a great video, though, she thought gloomily.

Sheila had asked her for help, and Lovefists had accepted readily. Sheila was like a fresh breath of air among the muck of the city. Like those fields that you see on those old movies on TV, the kind that no longer exists. She admired her for her moral ground, something sorely lacking in her life. It seemd to be rubbing off on Jin, too. Maybe Lovefists had been wrong about him, he might turn out OK. And it was likely due to Sheila’s influence.

Apparently Sheila had been in some trouble with the law before she arrived to the Sprawl. Lovefists believed she might have been lying about her identity, and might have been using Jin to assess the groups loyalty. Can’t blame her. This place is as bad as it gets. With luck, she’ll let me in on her old life. The real her. If this is like she acts when she’s acting, the real her must be an angel. Lovefists thought that maybe that applied to her too. Behind the tough exterior of a street fighter, Lacy Miller was still just a girl. She had given up on love. But was she right about that? Why had she been so glad that Sheila asked her to stay next to her during the infiltration on the hospital? The thought confused Lacy, and somewhat embarrassed her.

But soon enough reality broke down all of her dreams as it usually did. The infiltration was a bust. Well, a success of sorts. Lovefists was trapped inside a car going nowhere, and bullets heading her way. She couldn’t do anything. She wanted to punch that fucking cop-copter in it’s goddamn windshield face as they drove Sheila away from the group. The group did get the compromised cop out the the hospital mostly unharmed after a street resurrection, so that part of Sheila’s past is safe from harm. But now it seems Sheila is not.

God have mercy on them if they dare harm her.


Reliquary jorgeolothar

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