Since at least one of you is keeping watch over a certain mailbox, you can take this as IC information. I would like to remind you that time moves regardless of what you do and there is always someone looking to make a quick buck. Just because the PCs don’t act, doesn’t mean no one acts.
Saturday, July 9, 2072
The group confidently approached the drop point. A burly ork was on point, walking like he owned the street. Based on the gleaming combat axe strapped to his back no one was likely to question his stance. Behind him on his left was a lean looking human with a metal spider crawling along his shoulders. To the right was a trench coated individual with tinted sunglasses and wild white hair. Every step he took was accompanied by a solid tap from his staff and his hair seemed to dance to the rhythm of the taps. Watching the rear was an elf with Ingram Smartgun drawn, looking in every shadow for possible threat.His body seemed to be constantly twitching and it was a wonder he did not pull the trigger.
The street was deserted except for the party and a lone ganger waiting by the mailbox. The ganger slowly raised himself to his feet as they approached, obviously stiff from sitting there for days. The approaching group exchanged worded with him. Gesturing towards the mailbox the ganger nodded and took a step back. With a swagger the man with the spider on his shoulder withdrew a package from his coat and put it in the mail slot before he also took a hasty step back.
The cameras watching the scene crackled with static and a loud whistle filled the night. The mailbox began to glow and seemed to warp and dance in the light before exploding, metal case flying 30 feet into the air.
The ganger nodded and handed the team cred sticks before turning and walking away…