*Under the hood of the cloak, a smile grows on the unseen face. This was the perfect place. The figure quickly drops down to the ground level silently, staggering out of the shadows below. A few glances around at the revelers and the figure soon makes its way clumsily to a nearby group. As it passes by the group the hand of metal reaches out to pass over the clothes and belongings of the unaware lovers, quickly assessing their contents before receding behind the cloak once more as its mission is completed: all funds and electronic software was swiftly transferred without a trace*

The plan played out beautifully. Now-- A man with a crazy head of hair runs out from around a corner and skids to a halt in front of the crowd, not noticing you as a thief but as a groupie. "Holy fug, man, the bikers are fuggin' everywhere! They be bustin' up the muthafuggin' Fuzz, man!" he bellows, his throat dry from drug consummation. The group looks up at him, some alert while others are too high and too dazed to react fully.

*The figure grins deeply, this could be their big break. A bike or two would sell nicely down below...* *In a deep, slurred voice* "Wat you talkin' bout man? Dem bikes headed dis way? Wat we gonna do man?!?"

"Man, I dunno, but we gotta run! Get all the shit and run like fug!" He looks over his shoulder and jumps. "THEY'RE COMING!" Now that the yelling has started, everyone gets riled up and starts to get up and scatter drunkenly into the dark alleyways of Downtown.

*In all the commotion the figure had slipped into the shadows, making its way up the wall to watch what would happen next. A quick flick of the wrist and the figure takes a look at what it had gained from its work tonight* [spoiler]1000+ whatever amount you want. So maybe like a few thousand? You can put some cool software programs as well.[/spoiler]

You have stolen a disappointing 857 Credits from these junkies, though unsurprisingly; these folks are as poor as rats. Other things include two games, "Blockship Defender" and "Ronnie's Romp," a pornography network, and a drug dealing line. What could you expect from Downtowners? At least it's something.

*The figure sighs with disappointment at the haul, but doesn't complain, its something. It quickly deletes the pornorgraphy hub, but keeps the games and drug line.... It flicks its wrist again and looks back down to the streets below to see what has occurred* [spoiler]Good job. You are learning to keep true to your storyline, not just cater to your RP'rs every wish.[/spoiler]

A junkie hurriedly gathers his drugs into his arms, looking around crazily. A couple of lovers clumsily dress, not noticing the real threat of the approaching danger in the passing haze of sex. Then, from the corner the alerting junkie came from, motorcycles drifted cleanly into the scene, their drivers skidding the heels of their boots against the dirt and laughing maniacally. They hit the gas of their steeds and charge towards the poor Downtowners. One hits the male lover across the face with a metal pipe, shattering his nose and sending him to the ground unconscious, while another snatches his screaming whore, the snatcher squeezing tightly on one of the girl's breasts. He cackles savagely over her screams. Another trips the druggie while a buddy snatches all the data-chips, pills, vapes, and syringes they can fit into one arm. They drive off hollering, raising their loot in the air to show their friends. Then, in a flurry of dust and gas, the gang is gone. In their trail, the flattened corpses of the two Downtown rats who failed to escape their pillaging, ran over like the vermin they were. This place is a fuçking jungle.

*The figure follows the gang, running along the sides of the buildings and jumping from ledge to ledge with ease* [i]Not nearly as fun as Genellian's underworld, but it will do.[/i]

As you follow the flustered Downtowners, you hear the distant, automated warnings and sirens of the Cyber-Police behind you. You take a glance at the noise and see a small squadron of droids sprinting after the bikers, each toting a Kriksboc-19 in their arms. Better get out of that mess. As you follow the rats in their clumsy and drunken escapes, you see one of them with a handgun in their timid grip as they fled from the darkness of the alleyways. You're Power Gauntlet tells you that gun is an FN4 pistol ((new entry to Weapons database)), a standard sidearm with considerable damage, though it has an unordinary recoil to it that a pistol never would, making it a double-edged sword ((metaphor)). There is also no place for sights or scope on it, so whoever tries to hit a target at point blank with the FN4 has to feel pretty lucky to.

[i]Hmmm.... Could be a useful weapon. Seems like it is in the hands of the unworthy, how about I liberate it?[/i] *The figure quickly moves in, casting from underneath their cloak a tangle of wires with rocks at the ends. With a well-timed throw the figure casts the contraption at the fleeing rat's legs, the rocks wrapping the wire tightly around their legs and causing the rat to trip and fall. The figure quickly drops down and grabs the pistol from the stunned rat's hand, hefting its weight before clicking the safety and twirling the gun on their finger before holstering it somewhere under the dark cloak. The cloaked figure takes a quick glance around before quickly running at a nearby wall, somehow jumping off of it to grab hold of a ledge and swing themselves higher. Once high above the ground the figure takes a look around, searching for more targets to liberate of their undeserving possessions*