Yes, But... What if it was Shadowrun (Part 5)
Earth-218, Seattle, 2050 AD Neon bled through the grimy, rain-streaked windows of Chonky's . The place smelled of old fryer oil and regret hung heavy in the air. Raven sat in the naugahyde booth, long dark hair tied with a leather cord, green pirate jacket looking wildly out of place surrounded by chrome fixtures and flickering holo-menus. His hand rested near the hilt of Nightwatcher, wrapped carefully in cloth beneath the table. Across from him, Rudy , once the superhero known as Char —broad, scarred, and with a lot more white in his hair than he liked to think about —sipped coffee from a Styrofoam cup, a Big Chungus with fries sitting before him. “I know you can't be poisoned but,” the elf said, ears twitching as a synthesizer music rattled the walls, “you actually eat this stuff ?” The man snorted. “Hey, it’s cheap and open at 2 a.m. Who am I to judge?" The door slid open with a hiss. Three punks walked in—neon mohawks, tattoos scrawled across their necks, pierci...