Kult PBEM Campaign

The Setting

The game will be set in New York City in the year 1999. The time is June, the middle of a long hot and muggy summer. The city has been caught in the grip of a stifling heat wave for the past couple of weeks, tempers flare easily and violence is a daily headline. In other words life as usual in the big city. The world situation seems to mirror the cities. Tension between race, class and view are stretched to the breaking point world wide. Seemingly everyday countries appear and dissolve in Africa, and what used to Russia has broken down completely, war famine and disease spreading like a fire across the continent. Other parts of Asia thrive, Japan is as potent as ever and China has begun to rear its head as a major economic power.

In the United States the coming millennium's end brings mixed blessings. Some see it as a coming time of renewal, others as the end of the world to others the two are one in the same. Millennium cults run rampant, churches fill again as people seek some meaning in the end of the millennium. Periodic waves of violence sweep the slums and isolated regions, drug use runs rampant. Many religious leaders have proclaimed the cities modern day Sodoms and lead their "flocks" into the wilderness to heavily armed retreats.

Technology continues to grow, becoming ever present. The Internet has swollen into a juggernaut inflicting itself on every part of the average person's life, a vast interconnected web of information so complex that only a select few now its mysteries. Virtual Reality has reached the level of the common man, with home units "Rigs" making computer access deceptively simple and special V Parks offering an escape from the daily drudgery of life. Simple bionic prosthesis are available starting humanity down the course of merger with the machine.

The player characters will all be at least somewhat familiar with one another. They live in the same apartment building, The Hamilton estates, a large mansion located in a once thriving part of the city now fallen to decay and urban blight. The rent is affordable and the building itself kept in very good repair but its age is showing. Occupants range from singles to small families. There is a small pool on the grounds and a sizable garden as well, walled off from the rest of the city as are the entire grounds. Its seems to thrive despite the industrial strength pall of smog filling the sky. Security is tight with cameras on every floor and all residents issued small id cards to move around the building with. The owner uses the entire top floor as a residence and is really never seen. Her name is Rebecca Hamilton.

The building's caretaker is Joshua. No one knows his last name or much about him. He's a young man, perhaps in his mid 20's and quite handsome. Quiet and endlessly polite he's always prompt about repairs and never seems to the losing battle to keep the place up and running. He lives in a small corner apartment on the first floor near the east wing. The east wing is closed off, apparently never having been renovated. It must contain the old kitchen facilities of the mansion as some other rooms as well. Only Joshua and presumably Ms Hamilton have keys. Also on the first floor the Davidson's stay. They are a small family a small girl and boy that Jamie and Nichol. They're parents Simon and Melinda, both work and the kids often wander the building getting into everything. The ground floor is other wise taken up by the lobby and offices, run by Ms Matherson, the building manager and Ms Hamiton's private library and a nice sitting room that looks out over the gardens.

A young artist named Krystal lives on the second floor. She's a friendly enough sort but a bit of a flake, dresses in black, has a number of peircings and tattoos and milky pale. She often leaves her door open and a glimpse into her place reveal its bare except for a easel, paints and other art supples and a mattress. The kids seem to like her and she never makes noise. The apartment immediately beside hers is taken by Mr Harold Parker, a quiet man in his 30's. He keeps to himself, never speaking beyond polite greetings. Mr Collins, a Englishman judging by his accent has a small corner apartment on this floor as well as Angela Jacobs, a 30ish woman seemingly already on her way to spinsterhood. She rarely leaves her apartment. Tasio Salazar lives on this floor as well. Young and rather dangerous looking, he has no real friends in the building even Joshua seems to have somewhat of a dislike for him.

The third floor is mostly taken up by the apartment of a rather wealthy seeming young woman named Tanya, Tanya Shultz. She is, in a word, stunning and never seems to lack for stylish clothing and male companionship. She comes and goes at all hours, is a little standoffish and those who live under her place, namely Mr Hamilton and Tasio, sometimes hear most interesting things drifting down through the floor and vents. A woman named Gypsy lives on the top floor. Those that follow such things recognize her as a former Olympic contender from awhile back in gymnastics.

The Character

Name: Davis Callahan

Profession: Part-Time Computer Consultant and does contract jobs for the NSA (using the Internet, VR, Telephone taps et cetera to tap into [spy] on "possible threats to national security")

Date of Birth: December 1st 1967

Place of Birth: Dollard des Ormeaux, Quebec, Canada

Home: Hamilton Estates, NY, NY

Employer: A small struggling computer software firm and the NSA

Standard of Living: 5 (6-1 for disadvantage Debt)

Height: 6'2" Weight: 165 lbs Age: 32

Hair Colour: Blonde Eye Colour: Blue

History: 1962- older sister Suzanne born

1967- Davis born

1972- Kindergarten to Grade 6 in North Bay, Ontario

1979- Grades 7-8 in North Bay

1981- Grades 9-13 in North Bay

1984- Parents divorce

1986- Carleton University, Ottawa, Ontario for a combined Political and Computer Science Degree

1989- Carleton U for combined Honours

1990- Masters in Political Science at Carleton

1992- Doctorate at Columbia in Political Science

1993- Recruited for contract work by the NSA

1995- picked up by a small software company in NYC

met future wife Gwyn

1996- marry Gwyn

Family: wife- Gwyn (travel agent, marriage shaky due to Davis' Depression and Anxiety)

father- Peter (retired Major in Canadian Air Force, living in Collingwood, Ontario, remarried to a doctor Marion)

mother- Patricia (clothing store manager, living in Waterloo, Ontario, remarried to real estate agent John)

sister- Suzanne (corporate fund raiser and P.R. hack in Washington DC, divorced)

Personality: embittered, over-educated and under-employed, overworked and under-paid for the job he does have, carrying a nice large debt load thanks to university that seems like it might get paid off by the time he is in his 80s, loves his wife but she is having trouble with his bouts of anxiety and depression. Pretty certain that someone has found out about his illegal access of the NSA database and is sure that he is being tracked/followed/tapped (paranoia).

STR 10 AGL 11 EGO 15 CON 11 PER 10 EDU 18 CHA 13 COM 12

Dark Secret: Forbidden Knowledge- the problem with having access to the NSA and also being very good with computers is that, in your spare time, if you are good enough, you can access all sorts of information and files that you may not technically have the security clearance to see. These files include the bugging and tapping of major political and military figures.

Disadvantages: Anxiety 5, Cynic 5, Debt 10, Depression 15, Habitual Liar 5 (comes with being a part-time spook), Paranoia (due to Forbidden Knowledge), Rationalist, Rival 10 (at NSA, CIA or some such.)

Advantages: Alertness 10, Cultural Flexability 10 Gift for Languages 10 Influential Friends 15 (department head in NSA -Duncan Saunders, the head of the Political Science department at Columbia and member of government sponsored think-tank -Toni Gordon, owner of small software company -Sean O'Connor), Intuition 15

Mental Balance: Disadvantages= -75

Advantages= +60

Balance= -15

Skills: AGL- Climb 3, Dodge 3,Handgun 10, Projectile Weapons 3, Sneak 10

STR- Melee & Throwing Weapons 3, Throw 3, Unarmed Combat 10

CON- Swim 3

PER- Drive Vehicle 7, Hide 3, Search 10

EGO- Bugging 8, Bureucracy 10, Computers 15, Cryptography 10, Information Retrieval 15, Language (French 12, Spanish 12), Security Systems 13

CHA- Net of Contacts (Academia) 12

EDU- Natural Science 5, Computer Science 10, Social Science 5, Political Science 15

R/W English 18

Monthly Income: $1 500 Net: $1 000 Savings: $1 500 Credit: $20 000

Stuff: Sig Sauer P226 9mm with concealed shoulder holster (registered)

Toyota Celica GTi 16V

Portable Computer (Database, Anti-Virus, Decrypting, Informational Retrieval, Cracker Tools)- courtesy of the NSA

The Opening

The knock at the door startled David, his hand jerking reflexively toward the drawer of his desk. His pistol were there, loaded and waiting. Just in case. David closed his eyes, took a deep breath and waited. The knock came again, lightly, almost timid. Nothing to worry about.....

**** I call out "Who is it?", if no reply then the 9mm gets tucked in the waistband behind my back. If the reply is from someone I know, or seems genuine enough, I open the door from the side, keeping the chain lock on. This is after I ensure that the tremblers on the windows that defeat laser mikes are on and in place! (Can't be too careful these days, hell anyone can buy those things now!)

---"Mr Callahan?" A small child's voice shouts through the door. "I gotta give you somethin'" He recognized it was one of the kids from the first floor. This was a first. They usually avoided him like the plague.

**** (Give me something, like a letter bomb? The idea flits through my mind but is discarded as possibly to irrational). Open the door for the child, and look around the hall to ensure he/she is alone. "Who is it from?" I ask, accepting what is handed to me.

---OOC: This is the set up for the party night.

Its Saturday, hot and muggy. In the distance there is a storm forming over the city. Joshua has managed to get the buildings's central air working again, keeping the place livable. You're characters are making their final preparations for the evening (those that are going). Melenies's apartment is on the second floor. The door is open and strains of New age music drift out into the hallway and through the building. A modest sized place, it a decorated with assorted knicks and knacks and new age junk likely gathered from all the best trendy "occult" shops in New York.

Other guest have already arrived. An eclectic grouping. Men in started suits mingling with woman in homespun peasant dresses and new age goths, pale, thin and tragically hip clustering near the corners of Melenies' apartment. Many people have gathered around a small table near the rear of the room, a wall of bodies blocking the view of whatever has their attention.

Then there is Melenie herself. Tall and good looking she flits about the party, trying to meet and greet everyone at once. She's dressed in sheer white dress, clinging to her body like desperate lover. Constantly smiling she seems almost desperate to be everywhere at once. The room has already started to get a little muggy, the packed bodies overwhelming the taxed cooling system.

**** The paragon of fashion that he is, Davis arrives in a cheap grey sports coat, white dress shirt, a conservative two-tone blue tie, jeans and running shoes. As the party is in his building he does not go packing his Sig Sauer as he feels he can always make a break for his apartment if things should go seriously awry. He invites his wife, Gwyn, to come along.

The eclectic crowd halts him at the door for a second before he walks in. He scans the room carefully noting those who could possibly be plants by the NSA. Davis always has his back to a wall where he can keep an eye on the crowd to ensure no one is taking undue interest in his being there.

The crowd around the table will definitely draw his attention. Davis makes his way over to where the crowd is (via the walls of the room) to see what the fuss is all about. He will drink, but not to excess, as to keep his wits about him. He will do the small talk thing with anyone he happens into, and will introduce himself as a computer consultant. He will introduce his wife to everyone as well, if she actually goes with him. If it gets too muggy he will take off the sports coat and roll up his sleeves. He will, of course, say hello to Melenie (being the host of the party) and will intro Gwyn to her as well and thank her for the invitation.

He will keep his ears open for people talking in French or Spanish and eavesdrop upon their conversations. Despite his cynical view on the goths and new age pagans he hides his distaste under the veneer of his NSA training (cultural flexibility). He will reveal as little about himself as possible while gathering as much information on everyone else that he can (better to figure out who the plants may be!).

---The crowd at the table is mostly of the goth types, the new agers and other assorted edge cases talking quietly among themselves as they look at a cloth covered stand on the table. Shooting a few freezing glares at this "intruder" into their circle they turn they're attention back to whatever they'd been talking about before.

"You don't seem the type to be interested in this..so I take you're from her office or this building?" The voice is soft and sweet as honey, feminine but with just a touch of husky bass. Even his natural paranoia at someone suddenly behind him is dulled for a moment as he takes in the speaker. She stunning, a lithe figure of a woman in a low cut gown that just draws the eyes over every lush curve of her body. Her face is smooth and pale, each feature measured to add to the overall perfection of form. Her hair is done up in a set of intricate braids, vaguely African in appearance.

The rush of images pouring through his mind set Davis casting a guilty look around the room for Gywn in case she'd slipped in.

Chuckling the woman stepped a touch closer. The air in the room seemed to grow a touch warmer, her perfume filled his nose. Soft, sweet, like her body. She was close now, those magnificent breasts almost brushing his chest. Nothing but two thin layers of cloth separated them from his skin. "don't look so guilty.. nothing happened yet right?.. I'm Bethany...."

**** "Ah, Bethany, I'm ah, Davis. Davis Callahan. I live upstairs...with my wife, Gwyn. Its nice to meet you, um, I haven't seen you around before..."

Stealing glances towards the entrance to ensure that Gwyn is indeed not here. Wouldn't want the wrong impression to be given as things are shaky enough as it is. His natural anxiety keeps him slightly on edge and nervous.

"Um, might I ask what it is that you do? I'm a, ah, computer consultant."

"What are the...others, over there so interested in, do you know?" Nodding his head towards the covered object.

Could she be a distraction, a very pleasant distraction mind you? Who or what is she to be distracting me from? The thoughts quickly flit through Davis' mind. All the while trying, if not entirely successfully, to keep his eyes on her face and not the rest of her body. Also trying to keep his senses and mind focused on the rest of what is happening around him. This is not entirely successful.

---Bethany smiles. "I'm an artist of sorts, I work with....feelings, sensations..." she ran her fingertips over Davis' chest, a feather light caress that sent electric tingles running through his body. "She wasn't very aggressive was she..in bed.. sort of lay there and let you ride..." He blinked, what the hell was she talking about? Gywn? no.. it wasn't like that....well she certainly wasn't the most aggressive in bed but it hadn't been bad. Had it? She licked those full lips again," I prefer to take more initiative." Her voice was full of promise.


Part 2
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