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Topic: The Flight of the Dawn Falcon
Subject: The Flight of the Dawn Falcon
Alrighty folks, I prefer to dive right into a story instead of giving nine pages of exposition. The fabric concealing the world will unravel as it is explored and I will give information as requested if it is applicable to your character. :3
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June 4
Aboard the Dawn Falcon, outside of Vexotia
Though the sun had just barely gotten over the horizon, sending dancing rays across the sparkling sand, it was already blisteringly hot. Seventeen year old Ardis Winfall stood on the top of the sand ship the Dawn Falcon, painstakingly cleaning sand from a damaged wind turbine. He shielded his icy eyes as he peered up at a sky so blue it made them smart sharply, wishing desperately for a cloud or two. When his force of will didn't cause any blessings of shade to materialize the lanky boy sighed, wiped his brow and returned to his work. Another half hour of swift work left the broken turbine free of sand for the moment. Instead of heading below he sat at the edge of the ship. It wasn't a view most would admire, but the ingenuity of people never ceased to amaze him, and thus he watched the scene ahead of him in awe.
The expanse of Vexotia, the only known city in this vast desert, stretched out to the North. Between the ship and the thick smooth stone walls of the city sprawled the slums. Slapped together shanties and pieced together scrap houses crowded thin streets where all manner of people went about their daily life. He pulled his tinted goggles down over his eyes to cut back the glare and grinned as more of the world came into view. Women haggling over various goods, men trading scrap parts, children slipping through the crowd probably picking pockets and cutting purse strings as they went. Suddenly he remembered that he was supposed to be informing the engineer of the ship that the turbine was clean and needed to get a parts list from her since he had promised to get the parts himself. No doubt she would want to try to improve it while she was fixing...
He slipped down the trap door from the top of the ship into the hallway that led past his quarters and ended in the control room. He walked into the room that housed the steering mechanisms of the ship and knocked the toe of his boot against the trap door leading down to the navigator's quarters. “Sully, you in?” he called and listened for a few moments, waiting for an answer. When he received none he whirled and headed back into the hallway. With Sully gone he contemplated his choices of people to drag into the city with him.
Going through the options of the various crew he went to their quarters, getting more frustrated with every empty room. What a boring concept, going alone into the city. Lucas was his last thought but when he found the man already drinking heavily in the otherwise empty galley he was forced to accept that no one was around to go with him. This also meant he'd have no help carrying the items he went to retrieve. His mood already darkening he headed down to the workshop on the bottom deck of the ship next to the engine room.
He knew Engie would be busy. She always was when they were docked at Vexotia. He could understand why she avoided the city and the ship was easier to work on without the desert winds driving sand against you and with the parts readily available if needed. He knocked on the door but let himself in without waiting for an answer. “Engie, I'm finished clearing that turbine, do you need to look it over again or do you have a parts list ready for me?”
"Ah, hi there Ardis!" Elly called back, "I'll head on up and take a look at it. I doubt it needs anything special, but it's always good to take a look."
She handed him a parchment with a small list on it, "These should be more than enough to restock on spare parts, though I can't help but think that perhaps adding an internal gear variation would help prevent sand from building up and messing with the turbine's core. Eh, I'll think on it more later." She stretched towards one side, lifting her arms above her head and tilting a bit.
“I already know what you're going to say... but would you like to go to the city with me?” Ardis awaited her answer while looking around the room, always impressed with the vast array of gadgetry she had scattered about. There was almost no free space in her room, with piles of small gadgets and parts scattered in neat piles. He also was impressed with her ability to sleep in the room next to the engine, then again he supposed that it was likely her lullaby.
Elly smiled, "I appreciate the offer, but I'm going to stay and take a look at that turbine. Also have been working on that." She flicked a hand over her shoulder, indicating her desk. On it seemed to be a metallic vambrace, surprisingly big, perhaps sized for a hand twice as big as hers. "I doubt it'll be that useful when it's finished, but I do like to tinker."
She scratched her cheek with a finger while she thought, double checking things over in her mind, "Perhaps some more parchment as well, I like writing them down. That's about everything I think. Do take care while you're out."
Ardis smiled at her predictable answer and nodded. Looking over the list he frowned. “These lists seem to get longer every time you make one, Engie. Is my dear Falcon falling apart that quickly?” he shook his head and patted the wall as he headed towards the door. “Still not a clue about that flying ship...” he slipped out the door muttering irritably to himself.
Assembling the list of items requested took him longer than he had expected and by the time he was on his way back to the ship the sun was slipping down and the temperature was already dropping. He wasn't sure which he preferred, the day's heat or the night's chill. Both were pleasant and familiar to him in their own ways. As the temperature dropped however he wished he had brought his desert jacket.
When he arrived back to the ship after dropping off his pack heavy with the requested parts and a promissory note saying the rest would be delivered tomorrow to Engie he headed to the galley, hoping his stomach didn't growl in front of Maggie and give away that he had forgotten to eat that day.
Posted on 2012-05-06 at 22:52:19.
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Topic: Rokash Adventure Q&A
Subject: Sorry guys
Not it isn't that your adventure isn't exciting, It's just the sort of story I'd rather read than play. I can't really explain it very well. 
Posted on 2012-05-06 at 22:16:27.
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Topic: Dawn Falcon Q&A
Subject: ^_^
This is why Reralae is in charge of the tech on the ship, she thinks of things that don't occur for me. XD
I may let you guys find some pre-des medical equipment later, but not right now.
In other news, I have sent the first post Reralae's way for some Engie input. 
Posted on 2012-05-06 at 19:35:17.
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Topic: Dawn Falcon Q&A
Subject: An end in sight...
or actually a beginning in sight. XD I've finally gotten everything together to get this party really started.
Will have something up by Tuesday, I swear.
Posted on 2012-05-06 at 15:52:45.
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Topic: Paranoia: Adventures in Clonesitting Q&A
Subject: OMG
I am sooo glad I'm not the only one hearing GLaDOS. 
Posted on 2012-05-06 at 15:48:02.
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Topic: Short Story - The Return
Subject: Short Story - The Return
So for the last few days I've been stuck without internet unable to check things on the inn, thus unable to work on posts for... well anything. *grumbles*
In my forced absence I had this idea come to me. I'm still not happy with the ending and I'm not even really sure what kind of story one would call this... I'd like opinions on it. Unfortunately my muse vacated the premises once I fell asleep that night.
Though the rest of the houses on the block showed the years, the house on the corner, with its iron gate and oak door, still looked as it had the day he had left. Sixty years hadn't so much as stripped away the last clinging bits of yellowed paint. It was two floors high with a great many windows, each with its own little curled ironwork decoration. There was a pile of old shingles at one corner where they had slid off the roof and laid moldering, barely recognizable as more than a pile of moss. The third step to the porch sagged on the left side and the top of the railing was splintered from where a tree branch had fallen on it during a storm. Everything was exactly how he remembered it. Strangely, he had known it would be. Somehow this place never changed. If he still believed in magic, he might have accredited the everlasting bad condition of the house to that, but he had dropped such silly notions long ago.
A pair of rotting leather shoes sat just inside the gate and it brought a smile to his face. The voices of his childhood playmates drifted through his mind.
“You have to take your shoes off before you get to the porch. There's a ghost inside that doesn't like you tracking in dirt.” Of the three iron clad rules, this was the one most often ignored. Some kids just had tender feet, others were afraid of injury. Bryant Clark had stepped on a nail poking up through a floorboard in what was once the kitchen and the rest of the gang had worn shoes for weeks afterward. “You have to leave your hat at the door, she doesn't allow hats inside.” This they chalked up to good old fashioned manners. The hats were left on the porch.
“and you can't go to the second floor.” The ghost lived on the second floor. It was hers and hers alone, or so they were told. No one ever went up to check that theory. The thought of coming face to face with her or simply being banished from the house by the older boys in the group was enough to keep them in line.
The rules of their secret clubhouse, for it had to be secret lest their mothers discover that they were spending their time in a derelict old house that could fall around their ears at any moment, were supposedly laid down and enforced by the second floor ghost. He had never seen said ghost nor had he ever noticed any sign that anyone other than he and his friends visited the old home, let alone occupied it full time. He had always suspected that the rules had been created by the older boys as safeguards against mothers noticing cobwebs on hats and to keep the younger ones from falling through the termite eaten floorboards of the second floor of the house, but had sensibly kept quiet. No one wanted to point out that the ghost nonsense was in fact just nonsense set down to keep the younger boys in their place, as this would result in not being allowed to play in the house.
Now being in his advanced seventies he decided against removing his shoes, his feet were not as tough as they once had been, but out of respect for his old fellows he removed his hat and hung it on the porch bannister. “I can see tomorrow's headlines... Old Man Found Dead In Old House,” he muttered as he pushed the door open and stepped inside. He immediately started coughing, clutching his chest and covering his mouth. He ignored the crimson drops as he pulled his hand away, cursing quietly about dust and mildew.
While the outside had remained timeless the inside certainly had been altered. Where there once had been an old couch, ratty mattresses had been pushed against the wall and he could hazard a guess as to their purpose, though he certainly could think of classier places for the act. Most of the old furniture had been removed, probably tossed into the yard to clear the room for teenage parties.
Graffiti covered the walls, serving as a guest book for the delinquent adolescent mob that had inherited it after his generation had long vacated it. He supposed the adults of his time would have called him a delinquent as well for flouting his mother's orders and spending time where he shouldn't have been. He studied the walls, marveling in the years of love stories, derogatory remarks and artistic endeavors that spanned the ancient wood. He smiled as he softly brushed his fingers against one of the boards, the dry cracked wood rough under his time wrinkled skin. “MS plus HF forever, eh? Wonder if they're still together,” he mused aloud, chuckling before exploding into another round of harsh coughs. He wiped his hand on his pants, feeling for a moment very much like a young lad again. If his mother were still around she'd flay him alive for wiping his hands on his pants, though they were dark and showed few stains. “Sorry ma, I'll pop them in the wash when I get home,” he promised with an aging mischievous grin.
Further exploration revealed the old kitchen too damaged to enter. Apparently at some point someone had caught part of the place on fire as there was a circle of charred floorboards in the center of the room and half the old dining table that had once occupied the space leaned against the wall, robbed of all but one leg. Dried algae several inches thick coated the crumbling remains of a wash basin and the rusty iron stove seemed to be the home to several generations of mice. “You're probably feeding several generations of feral cats, though I haven't seen any yet.” He told the scurrying rodents as one scampered across his shoe. He was suddenly immeasurably glad he had opted to leave them on.
He drifted throughout the house, a bit ghostlike himself he thought with a soft smile. Most of the rooms had been demolished much like the kitchen with the garish colors of spray paint informing him of the less than latest gossip. “MS loves JR... now are you the same MS as before? What happened to forever with the other person?” He grinned, making his way to the door that hid the stairs to the second floor. He doubted the steps would be intact enough to allow him to finally see what was up there, but some part of him needed to know. He hadn't thought of it often but since his boyhood on occasion he had wondered what he had missed. He knew some of the other boys had slipped up the steps, too curious to follow the rules and willing to risk the consequences, whatever they might have been. Every so often these years past he would contemplate making the trip back to see what it was like, but something had always stopped him. Then one day, released from the hospital with the doctor's admonition to take it easy and there wasn't much else they could do except make him comfortable, the need to know had engulfed him.
Abruptly, there it was before him and what he saw made goosebumps crawl across his skin. In bright red paint, as though written in fresh blood it stated clear as day.
Hats off. No shoes. Stay away from second floor.
He wasn't sure why, but seeing it there frightened him. Shakily he turned to leave, realizing he really had no business being here. The place was condemned and he wasn't a spry young boy anymore. A fall down some rickety old stairs could end his life. A coughing fit overtook him and he leaned against the wall as the rough barking coughs ripped from his lungs. The room began to spin and he felt himself sliding down the wall, vision going fuzzy as his mind went blank.
It was dark when he came to, still sitting on the floor. He was sore all over, every joint felt as though encased in cement and his muscles felt like they were taking turns being on fire one moment then frozen the next. He wasn't sure how long he had been there, and as time passed he began to wonder if he really was going to die here.
“Never go to the second floor. That's where she lives.”
“No one has ever been up there and came back to tell the tale.”
“No one is allowed up there.”
Those childhood voices began to taunt him again. He needed to know. An inexplicable need, a desire he couldn't articulate. It was like it was calling him, the past was leaping forward all these years, the boyhood version of himself telling him he was still just a coward too scared to climb some steps and prove everyone wrong.
Even in the dark he could make out the red letters, appearing like they were still dripping though they had obviously dried years ago. He shakily reached down and untied his shoes, trembling fingers fumbling with the thin laces. Once he had removed them he climbed slowly to his knees then used to wall to drag himself to his feet. He reached out for the door handle. The rusty scratched against his palm as he turned the knob, the ominous creak only making his already taxed heart slam harder against his ribs.
Nothing more than simple stairs, old and rickety looking, but just steps. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed. No screeching banshee woman telling him he wasn't allowed upstairs, no blood dripping from the ceiling or bugs pouring our from under the steps... just twenty or so stairs.
He nearly turned to leave. The anti-climatic opening of the door had ruined his desire to go on.
“Excuse me, sir? Are you okay?” The voice nearly made him jump out of his skin and he clutched his chest as his heart slammed about inside his ribs. He turned to see a young woman, twenty-five or so in age, wearing a paint splotched apron. She was slender, fine boned with delicate features and doe-like eyes that seemed to be endless pools in the dim light, her face framed by waist long tresses of dark hair. “Sir?” Her brow wrinkled in concern as she reached out and put her cool hand on his shoulder.
“Yes, you just startled me, young miss,” he assured her. “I didn't mean to cause anyone to come looking for me. I just had a little spell and needed to rest. Thank you for your worry,” with that he nodded at her and started down the hall back towards the exit.
As he glanced over his shoulder he saw her disappear up the stairs and he frowned. “Miss?” he shuffled back to the bottom of the steps and looked up, peering into the darkness for any sign of the young woman. “Miss?” He called again louder and started coughing again. “It's dangerous up there, you really shouldn't go exploring in the dark.”
The first few steps were very hard for him. He could barely get his old knees to bend the way they needed to and his hands ached as he gripped the railing. The wood under his bare feet felt dusty but not like they were going to give. They didn't even creak under his weight. The tenth step felt oddly easy to him, like his body had given in and decided they were going and there was nothing it could do about it except go along. By the time he reached the landing he was out of breath, tired and coughing a bit, but he didn't feel as bad as he had at the bottom.
The sight that met him took his breath away. The room was lit by candles, on window ledges and in sconces on the wall. Every inch of the walls save for two doors was covered in paintings of the town. Every building captured on canvas, every detail of the town from the flowers in front of city hall to the flag snapping merrily in the breeze in the school yard. The woman stood at an easel and jumped when she noticed him. “Oh sir, goodness, you didn't have to follow me up here,” she protested and stepped away from her work. “This is just the only place I have room to put my pieces...”
“This is amaz...” he was interrupted by another rough round of coughing and gratefully took the seat she offered. When he seemed to calm down a little she offered him a bottle of water.
“Did you used to come here to play as a child?” she asked suddenly, returning to her canvas. “There were once a lot of children that came and played here.”
He simply nodded, unable to catch his words. He didn't dare open his mouth for fear he'd start coughing again.
Watching him she picked up the brush and started painting again. “I watched lots of kids play here, but eventually they all stopped coming... so I started keeping my paintings up here.”
“Why not put them in a gallery?” he managed to ask.
“Because they're mine... they're so I can always remember how things were... I don't want just anyone looking at them. Not everyone would be able to appreciate them,” she eyed him oddly for a moment and he suddenly felt very much like he shouldn't be here. Like he'd walked into someplace very private and personal. He mumbled an apology and started to get up. “May I paint you, sir? Since you used to play here?”
Taken aback by the request but secretly little delighted he nodded. “Of course my dear. If you would like. When should I come sit for it?”
“Why right now, if you don't mind. If you're too tired it can wait,” her smile was soft and inviting but her eyes seemed to peer further into him than he was comfortable.
He burst into another round of coughing and the river of blood that dripped through his fingers made up his mind for him. “I'm afraid I don't know how long I have, my dear. It would be best if we did indeed do it right now. Age has weakened me and cancer eats at my lungs.”
She pointed to an upholstered chair in the corner that he hadn't noticed before and offered him a blanket. “Get comfortable,” she suggested. “This will take a few hours.” he took her advice and got himself situated in the chair and draped the blanket over his lap. He fingered the edges, feeling oddly nostalgic looking at it.
“My mother knitted me a blanket this color once, when I was a lad and was sick for a week... she sat and knitted all day, keeping me company in my bed....” he trailed off as he looked around the room. He snapped back to attention however when she gently reminded him she was trying to paint him.
Her brush moved silently around the canvas and he sat silently, not noticing as his aches eased. He wasn't sure how long she had been working when she began speaking. It was then that he noticed he hadn't had a coughing fit since he sat down, the longest he had been without one in over a year. As she spoke he felt his eyelids growing heavy and he began to wonder if she would mind him taking a little nap, surely she would understand.
“The children used to come and play here. I've seen scraped knee and slashed elbows, bloodied noses and blacked eyes. I've seen the tender buds of first love blossom. I've seen boys mature to manhood and never cross through my doors again.. I've seen shy young girls become mischievous vixens luring boy after boy here telling each one he was her one and only... So very few follow the rules. I like obedient children.”
The old man struggled to answer her odd monologue, unable to make his lips form words. He could barely make her out through the sleepy fog as her brush finally came to a stop and she looked up at him, a strange smile on her face. She set the brush down as his eyes finally slid closed, his chest becoming still and body relaxing into the chair.
She stood, taking the canvas to one of the doors and opening it. Inside was a neat row of paintings, each a portrait of a child. “They say there are ghosts on the second floor...” she cooed as she hung the painting new painting, smiling as the small group of children crowded around her to greet their newest playmate.
Posted on 2012-05-05 at 22:36:10.
Edited on 2012-05-05 at 22:41:04 by Kriea
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Topic: Dawn Falcon Q&A
Subject: Sorry for disappearing
So the next screwed up my payment for my internet and applied it to the wrong account and the system won't let them fix it without a million miles of paperwork and forms because it keeps flagging it as fraud.
I'm enjoying free internet from them while they fix their screw up. <3
I'm thinking I may have to buy one of these little wireless routers instead of using the piece of junk one I originally got.
Anyway, I'm liking the ideas Kamina but keep in mind for steam you have to have fire and he doesn't have TONS of work space. Maybe some clock work slimmer designs?
Posted on 2012-05-05 at 17:55:01.
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Topic: Join the revolution Q&A
Subject: Good to still have you aboard
I'll try to get figured out if we'll need to search for a couple new players tonight.
Posted on 2012-05-03 at 14:12:45.
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Topic: Dawn Falcon Q&A
Subject: *finds a black candle and slips a tiger's eye in my pocket*
Let's do this!
Too much Lambada, can't get anything done.
Posted on 2012-05-03 at 13:48:35.
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Topic: Geek Children's books?
Subject: I don't twist arms...
but I have been told I can make alright frog legs. 
On a side note, whoever said frog legs taste like chicken apparently ate chicken that ate a lot of fish and mud, cuz that's all I could taste. Never again.
 That guy looks waaaay too happy to be vomiting, by the way... just saying.
Ahem, anyway if flow's the problem maybe it could be tweaked? I'd love to be able to read stories to the kiddo that someone I know wrote. Most of the stuff on here is a bit mature for them.
Posted on 2012-05-03 at 13:41:31.
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Topic: Paranoia: Adventures in Clonesitting Q&A
Subject: well since I was at the back of the group...
AND the last one to post... I was waiting, but you start making noises like that I'll come up with something boss. I came into this game a clone short. XD
Posted on 2012-05-03 at 13:37:42.
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Topic: Dawn Falcon Q&A
Subject: I have no fear OF the dark
I have fear of what is IN the dark.
I know I can't refuse and yet, I wish I could. Oh God, if I agree,
What horrors wait for me in this, the Phantom's Eol's opera brain?
I would poke around in more dark corners if I could find more things like Nyx and less things like beholders and carrion crawlers, just saying.
Fun fact: if you forget to put the closing tag when you use the strike out tags it strikes out the edit and delete buttons too.
Posted on 2012-05-03 at 13:32:45.
Edited on 2012-05-03 at 13:34:03 by Kriea
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Topic: Celeste's Drawn Goodies
Subject: *shifty eyes*
Ahem... *steals for background picture*
I just keep thinking that Nyx is gonna burn his fingers on that candle.
Posted on 2012-05-03 at 03:31:59.
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Topic: Celeste's Drawn Goodies
Subject: I have a thing for villians
I love me a bad guy.
and no matter how horrid you are, someone finds you irresistible.
Posted on 2012-05-03 at 01:58:45.
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Topic: Celeste's Drawn Goodies
Subject: Don't feel bad Celeste
That's what most people have trouble with.
and I am officially in love with Nyx. I haven't got very far into Fate but OMG...
Your drawings are amazing. 
Posted on 2012-05-03 at 01:02:30.
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Topic: Dawn Falcon Q&A
Subject: It's a terrifying thing...
that someone is able to get into your head Eol. I'm betting it's a bit scary in there.
Okies, that's all I need to know to get something in the works.
Posted on 2012-05-03 at 00:11:24.
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Topic: Geek Children's books?
Subject: D'awww
Super cute book. :3
I suppose when I say "geek" themed I mean fantasy sorta stuff.
Where the Wild Things Are, Paperbag Princess, that sort of thing... not the same stuff we've read over and over.
Posted on 2012-05-02 at 21:58:35.
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Topic: Dawn Falcon Q&A
Subject: Need more info
I'm not sure if he's a new recruit or has been on board for a while though is the problem.
Posted on 2012-05-02 at 21:43:01.
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Topic: Dawn Falcon Q&A
Subject: Speaking of...
You're involved in the opening post, so I'll be shooting a collab your way as soon as I figure out where Kamina would be.
Posted on 2012-05-02 at 21:14:53.
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Topic: Geek Children's books?
Subject: Geek Children's books?
So my cousin recently had a baby boy and my sister is due to pop at any moment (she's a week late actually.)My sister reads whatever book she's working on aloud to her belly every night and says the baby gets really rambunctious at exciting parts in the story. My cousin, however, doesn't read to her kids (make me wanna beat her) but I make sure I read to them every time I'm over there and they love it. Recently I've taken to telling them stories because I'm going batty getting sick of Goodnight Moon and Fox in Socks. Though they adore it, it really isn't the same to me as cuddling up with a good book which I think is incredibly vital to a child growing up to love reading and doing well in school.
My question being do you guys happen to know any "geek" themed books suitable for children under 5? We're desperate for new material and I want the books to be something personal... and maybe if I get them interested now they'll be ready to try out D&D when they're old enough to read on their own. MUAHAHA raising my own gaming group from the children of friends and family!!
Posted on 2012-05-02 at 20:45:27.
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Topic: Dawn Falcon Q&A
Subject: I feel like...
I've given you the keys to the candy store with this engineering bit, Reralae...
My massage appointment called and canceled... so if I can get information from Kamina I may be able to get something up as early as tonight or tomorrow. :3
Posted on 2012-05-02 at 20:26:42.
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Topic: Dawn Falcon Q&A
Subject: Sppparrrrkles
I wouldn't actually know, Eol, I couldn't bring myself to finish the first book. There were too many typos in the first chapter.
Awkwardness defeated with maximum explodability.
Posted on 2012-05-02 at 19:28:58.
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Topic: Dawn Falcon Q&A
Subject: Just a thought
I can imagine the bizarre circumstances of Engie and Ardis's meeting was really a good thing. He has such difficulty talking to girls (though by now he's gotten used to all of the ones on the ship, and never did he have trouble talking to Maggie. Not that she's not a pretty girl mind you.... she just is so much like his mum.)
Edit: If I keep at this rate of posting I'll be at 5000 shortly after my birthday in January.
Posted on 2012-05-02 at 18:58:53.
Edited on 2012-05-02 at 19:01:46 by Kriea
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Topic: Dawn Falcon Q&A
Subject: Sully
Eol I'm sorry to say but according to today's popular literature Sully's eyes sparkling indicated that they are in fact vampires and cannot be trusted. I will not allow them on my ship.
*hums* I do like the history though. Good stuff. Waiting on info from Kamina and Reralae at the moment.
Need to know how long the doc's been on the ship or if we're picking him up on this trip into town.
Congrats on having a buttload of posts Eol. 
Edit: Oh hi, you ninja'd me
Posted on 2012-05-02 at 18:45:33.
Edited on 2012-05-02 at 18:46:16 by Kriea
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Topic: Dawn Falcon Q&A
Subject: Funds eh?...
Mostly common desert fare. There are some other plants and such available but they're pretty costly. They probably eat better out in the desert because of Ardis's knack for finding oases.(I finally looked up the plural for that.) She'll probably mostly be stocking up on the staples like flour and salt and whatnot. Gravy makin supplies. XD
You can find just about anything for sale somewhere in the slums, assuming you're willing to go looking for it. Well, anything that could have survived the blast. There are probably no strawberries or delicate succulents that survived long enough to be found and cultivated.
As for funds, she'd be allocated a decent amount. A little more than the average ship maybe, but by no means will they be eating like kings. Ammunition and parts needed to keep the Falcon running come out of the budget first, then food, then medical supplies. Since the Falcon took no major damage on the last run, I would say she probably has a good enough budget to feed the crew for a couple weeks without outside supplement if she is decent at meal planning, which I'm guessing she probably is.
Depending on character spending habits, it's possible they could have a decent amount of personal money saved up. I'm working on how the monetary system works. I'm thinking the slums probably works more on a barter system though they'll take City Marks if you have them.
Marks are the primary way of paying for things within the city. The are made out of silver and come in five coin pieces.
Half Mark - a half mark would buy you and a friend a drink at the bar or a loaf of bread and maybe a dubious piece of cheese like substance. Usually a slum worker will receive a half-mark for a day's work in the factories.
Full Mark - A full mark will buy you a night at the place you and your friend were drinking or a nifty broken widget you found in a scavenger's booth in the market square. Decently employed workers in the city get a Full Mark for a full day's work.
Tetra Mark - Four Full Marks. Will buy you that new dress you've been eyeing in the shop window or a shiny new set of goggle lenses
Deca Mark- Ten Full Marks. One could buy enough food for a family of four for a month on a Deca Mark. Few slum inhabitants ever save up enough money to ever actually have any of these.
Quina Mark- Fifty Full Marks. Very rarely used for anything other than large bills paid by the noble classes or payments for Citizenship Passes. A Citizenship Pass is Four Quina Marks. Few slum workers have ever even seen one in person.
Posted on 2012-05-02 at 14:27:14.
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