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Topic: A Cold Day in Hell Q&A
Subject: Get out?
There ain't no getting out. We're all going to die here!
Posted on 2008-10-25 at 06:39:29.
Edited on 2008-10-25 at 06:40:45 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Wyatt 'n I had a chat and...
Works fer the both of us.
Posted on 2008-10-25 at 06:35:57.
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Topic: Agenesis of the Corpus Callosum
Subject: Agenesis of the Corpus Callosum
Nope! That's not a foreign language...kinda. Well, I guess it's Latin if you want to get technical, but hey! It means something. More precisely it means that the corpus callosum (the membrane that connects the two hemispheres of the brain and allows them to communicate) never developed. Why do I bring this up? Because my youngest son was diagnosed with ACC at birth, and we just found out a couple of years ago when his development was off pace.
Now, why am I posting this here? Because I'm trying to develop a greater awareness for the disorder. You see, our family doctor didn't tell us about the diagnosis because he didn't know what it was and hadn't heard of it being detrimental to anyone so he felt we needn't worry about it. Problem is, it is relatively new in the industry of psychology and brain abnormalities, so not many people know what it is. As a matter-of-fact, we're still fighting his school to get him certain educational aids and resources reserved for people with recognized disorders. We didn't feel that there was any support for it really until we stumbled across the NODCC (National Organization for Disorders of the Corpus Callosum) and the conference they hold once a year.
That put us in New Jersey last year and really opened my eyes to the problems people with ACC, or those supporting people with ACC, faced. So, I've developed a site, and am hoping that its community will grow to further support the education of people about ACC.
Now, while this site is dedicated primarily to ACC, it is also in place to support all disorders of the corpus callosum, so if you know anyone with a disorder, or feel that you'd like to participate, feel free to visit!
www.dccutah.info
Posted on 2008-10-24 at 02:36:19.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Nice opening post, YeOlde!
I enjoyed reading it. Sounds like Andrew will be a ku addition to the crew once we find him.
Posted on 2008-10-24 at 01:48:42.
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Topic: Chat?
Subject: Not allowed.
Sorry TsAh, but you and Cooner aren't allowed in Chat.
Posted on 2008-10-24 at 01:40:22.
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Topic: He he
Subject: Who'd a thunked it?
My son actually can type in complete sentences...
Interesting nickname, Olan. I, on the other hand, never changed the diapers without raising such a ruckus that I was rarely asked. Thus, no nickname. Of course, there were quite a few comfy nights spent sleeping in the dog house with my border collie, but hey! I didn't have to mess with TsAh's poopy diaper.
Posted on 2008-10-24 at 01:38:34.
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Topic: Quests
Subject: I'm with Eol
I've only really had the luxury of playing three characters tabletop that quested for anything--I've GMd the majority of my gaming career. However, I've ran one campaign that's main quest has lasted since 1999. The players developed the characters out well, they played the character's growth well, and I threw in a wide array of small side quests where pieces to the puzzle were discovered that it's all fallen together rather nicely.
So, give me a group of people with talent, and a desire to play the character, and I don't care how long, or what type of a quest, we're playing.
Posted on 2008-10-23 at 04:18:20.
Edited on 2008-10-23 at 04:23:44 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Been out for a bit
Subject: Yup
Getting better so you can live to game again is what matters.
Posted on 2008-10-23 at 04:11:44.
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Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: No problem
I can just start things off with Snickers and Caterina, then add you when ready.
Posted on 2008-10-22 at 21:23:33.
Edited on 2008-10-22 at 21:24:48 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Newest to the Site
Subject: Yup
Howdy.
Advice? If you go hungry at this here table it's your own fault.
Posted on 2008-10-22 at 00:08:34.
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Topic: The Embodiment
Subject: Need two players to take over existing characters.
I created characters for Septimus and Cap'n Lou. Unfortunately, it appears that they are no longer playing, but seeing how we haven't started yet, I'd rather just find new players for them rather than create whole new characters. Any takers?
Posted on 2008-10-21 at 01:56:47.
Edited on 2008-10-21 at 02:00:19 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Entertainment for geeks
Subject: LOL
I've recorded a couple of songs for my wife that I wrote the lyrics to and had friends compose the music. Wouldn't know how to share them here though.
Posted on 2008-10-21 at 01:48:45.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Ku
Rightious.
Posted on 2008-10-20 at 02:49:16.
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Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Um...crap! A sleeping beauty, and a sleeping with beauty scenario.
Even if Wyatt hadn’t been the superstitious sort, the vision of these new ships crowding Rocinante would have been enough to put him on edge. As it was, they gave him pause as he rounded the last corner between him and home. The captain stood alone in the shadow of an awning, looking across the docks at the emblem on the defiant, Wyatt tries hard to remember if he’d seen it someplace before. Drawing a blank, he decides it don’t mean he has to like it any more than previous. Dragonflies were bigger than Fireflies, and that meant they housed richer and better armed individuals. It was something to be wary of. But what worried the captain more was the presence of the ranabout. That spelled trouble.
Wyatt had never really ruled out that the first Ludlow they’d killed hadn’t been after Sam the Miner, but might’ve been after Sam Dash. He alone among the crew knew of Sam’s history—Hell! They’d almost killed each other when he’d found out. It’d turned out to be the cement in their relationship however, and it was now as Sam’d said in the Doc’s place, “to the end.” Bounty hunters poised on his starboard meant potentially that Dash was in trouble again.
Clenching his jaw, Wyatt Sung stepped from his perch on the wood walkway and felt the puff of dirt slip up the leg of his jeans as his boots struck earth. Even though he’d yet to see any threat, his duster had been pulled back to rest on the inside of his hog’s leg. With his hand hovering near the comfort of the iron, the captain approached the ship, and entered through the cargo bay door, closing it securely behind him the whole time wondering if he ought not to go back for Sam and Wolf right then, the machine Sam was attached to be damned. Unfortunately, their financial situation reigned him in as he turned about and took in their hold and the containers of ice that would soon be delivered. They had no cargo, no work, and he’d be a poor captain if he burned atmo’ purely to starve his crew in the Black.
Making his way to the galley, Wyatt finds Ma forcing coffee and food down Asher’s throat. The stench of alcohol floated heavy in the air, and Wyatt swallowed his resolve. It would be so easy to allow himself to sink into that particular comfort once again…so easy.
“You get started on that cargo, as I asked, Kid?”
Asher nodded as he sipped on the bitter black liquid.
“Good. When you get right again, meet me down in the cargo bay to finish it up,” Wyatt raised his brows at Ma and motioned for her to follow him, making his way into the fore deck. Once there, he turned about and, leaning against the rail, he peered over her shoulder back towards the galley to make sure Asher hadn’t followed them. He didn’t want the kid to catch his worry, lest the gunfighter go see what he could see about them bounty hunters.
“Look, Ma,” Wyatt drawled, turning his attention back to the scarred beauty. “We’re in it thick here, but we can’t leave just yet, so I need to know you’re on your guard. There’s some new ships that’ve docked, and either of them could be trouble fer the likes of us. Unfortunately we still got us a couple of days dirtside, so we need to make sure there ain’t nothing we ain’t prepared for.”
Wyatt read the expression on his face and followed it with a slight shake of his head. “I know. I hate the fact that we’re all spread out like this too, but we’ll be regrouped first thing tomorrow. Just be ready with that scattergun. OK?”
Wyatt spends some time filling Trish in on the events of the day, providing details that the others might not have had, then he heads up to the bridge to see if he can’t find anything on the cortex concerning the two new ships. About twenty minutes before JW’s men are supposed to arrive, he heads back to the cargo bay and finishes preparations for moving the cargo.
Wyatt let the crew in when they arrived, and as they got started he found himself approached by Mr. Blake.
“Excuse me Captain. You did me quite a service today, quite a service indeed. If it hadn’t been for you and your men, I shudder to think of where I would be now.” Wyatt looked down at this proffered hand, in which was a small wooden box. Taking it, the captain lifted the lid a bit, but upon catching sight of the credits there he promptly closed it again.
“I wanted to say thank you and offer you a small token of my appreciation,” the banker said.
Wyatt gave the man a nod and shook his hand. “No problem.”
When everyone had finished with the crates, Bailey sealed the deal by paying Wyatt 40 more credits before stepping off to conclude the other details he was responsible for. That’s when JW approached.
“We are heading back to the Lawrence. Anyone like to join us?”
Wyatt glanced back up into the cargo bay, then over at the runabout. He considered refusing the hospitality and retiring for the night, but knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep what with his concern for Sam weighing heavy on his shoulders. Perhaps JW can shed some light on the bounty hunters, he thought and offered the man a nod.
“Sure. I’d be happy to, though I think Asher’s had a bit all he can handle of a saloon today.”
Wyatt looks for Willow, and if she’s around, he’ll invite her along as well…to keep him in line and clean up any mistakes he makes in diplomatic relations, but he’d made sure to make it clear that the Kid was to remain on Rocinante.
Once he had JW’s attention, whether it be at the saloon, or on the road to the saloon, Wyatt asked the question that was itching at his throat to come out.
“I noticed that runabout and the dragonfly docked near my ship, JW. Any idea what the business is for those on board?”
Posted on 2008-10-19 at 22:38:42.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Mature Content
Subject: Tensions Rising.
New Harbor Mallplex – Studio City – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 6:30pm
Scribe was rather proud of himself despite the knowledge that they had a tail. They were as secure as one could be for the moment. He had physical packages ready to deliver if he didn’t retract his order within twenty-four hours, digital copies of the same video files ready to send under the same circumstances, and he carried a few copies for insurance. He had no doubt that should a megacorp such as Biotechnica so desire it, they could put a stop to all of the contingencies, but it’d take some work, and in that time, Scribe hoped beyond hope that Croaker and his team would have been able to put the issue to bed. When he emerged from the post office, a smile upon his face he was greeted by the dour bodyguard’s back.
"Scribe,” Guardian’s deep voice held an edge to it DigitalScribe was familiar with, and it drew the media up short, expecting to see a troop of corporate agents bearing down on them. “I believe we've been compromised at some point. I find it very unlikely that anyone actually followed us here so quickly. It seemed to me that the tails—yeah I think there's more than one—were here before us. Can't tell how it could've happened and who's to blame though. Could be anyone with such a big crowd... Or maybe I'm just getting careless…" Frankie glanced at him during the pause, but said nothing to interrupt the man’s train of thought. "Whatever the case, we need to lose them and that won't be easy. First things first..." Guardian dug into his pocket and fished out his cell. He then pried it open and removed the sim-chip, dropped it on the floor and crushed it with his boot. "Just to make sure, I think we should get rid of the things and buy new ones with an anonymous setup—pre paid stuff." With that, he dropped his ruined phone into a bin of a cleaning bot passing them by.
Scribe considered the remaining chips of plastic still on the ground at the big man’s booted feet and then slowly retrieved his phone. He had his doubts as to whether someone could track the things when they were turned off, but Guardian was the expert there, so he followed suite: removing the sim-chip and casting the phone into the bot’s bin as well, receiving a metallic “Thank you for recycling” from the robot as it continued on its way.
"Let's head for the underground car park,” Guardian continued once Frankie had done as he’d asked. “But not where we left the car of course. When we head down on an elevator anyone wishing to find us again will need to come down too, whether it will be with the same lift or using an escalator or something. We'll take up an observation position and wait for a while. Maybe we can turn the odds and catch one of the tails. If not we can enter the sub through there or find some other means of transportation. The new cells we can buy somewhere else."
Scribe gave a slow nod. “OK, Guardian. Down it is.”
The two men made their way to the elevators. The Mallplex did have an underground parking garage, but it was mostly for those who resided there. The parking levels adjacent to the towers were used for visitors and shoppers, however it wasn’t difficult to catch a ride as the doors opened to allow a couple of teen-age girls wearing Icon America and combat boots in a cross between old-time grunge and modern Iconic fashion admittance to the shopping concourse. They giggled and made small talk concerning some boy named Jeremy as they passed by the two men, and after a second, DigitalScribe stepped into the carpeted elevator, followed by Guardian.
The elevator was done up in browns and oranges with a circle and diamond pattern in purple on the floor. There was a single, metal rail about waist level that ran the circumference of the container, and the upper half of the walls were a polished mirror with decorative engravings in the corners. The ceiling was the usual plate mirrors behind which Guardian was positive cameras had been positioned. He wouldn’t have been surprised if there’d been biometric scanners placed in the walls as well in order to protect the citizens who resided within the residential section. It was more likely however, for there to be regular patrols of security wandering the halls within the residential towers…less expensive, and less chance of someone complaining about a violation of privacy.
When the doors opened in the parking level, Guardian stepped forward and eyed their surroundings. His cyberoptics in full swing, he scanned each nook and cranny of the cement structure. Taking in the thick pylons that stood as silent sentries, marked in their uniform paint jobs denoting which section and which level of the parking garage they were on. He registered the armor-plating of the boxes encasing the security cameras in the corner of the elevator bay looking out over the garage, and then the other on the yellow-painted pillar twenty feet from the mouth of where they stood. There were all sorts of city cars, sedans, single-rider electrics, and the occasional motorcycle within view as well as two empty security stalls.
DigitalScribe was also taking in the scenery, but he wasn’t noticing strategic positions so much as the details of the expansive garage, the smell of oil and gasoline mixed with the musk of exhaust and a slight scent of mold. The dim lighting, the flickering fluorescent bulb in the far corner of the bay to the right, and the pockmarks in the cement about the base of the pillars. He also registered the number of the bay, the lane they faced, and the types of vehicles that were closest. It was what he did to set up the story. The City Scream would get a rather detailed description of this chase, even if it didn’t lead to anything linked with Biotechnica—Hell, Frankie could spin it to make it appear that the NCPD were trying to take away his First Amendment right if he had to. He didn’t like to twist things, but if it meant the difference between eating Kibble and eating a juicy steak…well, he’d done his time eating Kibble.
“There,” Guardian pointed towards a deep blue-colored two door city car about twenty meters down the avenue, its bulbous cockpit void of the usual tint, its position providing them with a decent view of the elevator bay, and as Scribe peered around the corners he noticed that it would provide them with a decent shot of the stairwell too. So, he followed without a word as they proceeded from the relative safety of the elevator bay and made their way across the slate-gray cement past the few other cars that were between them and their destination, and finally rounding the bumper of the city car.
Reaching into his bag, Scribe produced his camera rig and began to strap it on over his trench coat, plugging his cyberlink in as he did. Glancing over at Guardian he flashed his toothy smile.
“Hey, the footage could be either life-saving, or help continue to pay your bill. You never know.” That said, Scribe settled against the cool cement wall of near the front bumper of the strange, bulbous car and focused on thinking about how to write what they’d been experiencing.
Guardian had been correct in his assessment that they were being tailed, and that there was more than one of them. Scribe would have congratulated the big man, but for the fact that when he saw the trench coat-wearing suit in mirrorshades emerge from the elevator a half a minute later, and another jog to a stop as he reached the bottom of the stairs, he knew they were still in trouble. Mentally activating the camera, he set the picture-in-picture rear view up and crept forward while staying low so that the camera could perform its function, but Frankie might be able to stay fairly well hidden.
Guardian also crouched, weapon ready, near the rear bumper, obviously aware of their presence.
The two men moved forward as though in unison, but when they both came into view of each other there was a momentary pause and both sought what Scribe could only assume was weapons beneath their coats. Then, with nods of recognition, they left their weapons where they were and both walked slowly out, further into the garage, apparently having not spotted either the media or solo of yet.
DigitalScribe mentally adjusted the zoom lens on his camera so that it picked up the tracker’s faces in detail, and as he brought the lens back to a regular view with expert practice, he noticed something in the PIP view that caused him to pause.
“Guardian,” he whispered. “Security. Behind us.”
Turning and peering over his shoulder, the large bodyguard noticed the SUV painted white with blue accents and a light bar on the roof slowly making its way down the lane towards their position. It was easily a hundred meters away at that point, but was moving at roughly three to four miles per hour, and would arrive sooner rather than later.
New Harbor Mallplex – Studio City – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 6:40pm
Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 11:56pm
They had to move quick, but with a weapon in hand again, Bull’s Eye didn’t mind. He’d had his doubts about this MDK, and he certainly didn’t trust Peacekeeper like Croaker did, but the moment they’d popped in through that door, he’d been really glad they were on his side.
There wasn’t always camaraderie between nomads, but by the nature of their existence when faced with statics, they tended to stick together. So, Bull’s Eye actually trusted Freeway more since finding out that he was a nomad than he did any of the statics Croaker had mixed them with since reuniting, except perhaps Firewind. There was something about that tattooed islander that allowed people to easily trust him. In any case, Bull’s Eye was quick to follow MDK out the door without worrying that this put Freeway at his back. Perhaps it wasn’t the smartest thing he could have done, but it wasn’t until later that it would occur to him Freeway might’ve just been saying what he did to win his trust. Perhaps it was a good thing too, because it allowed them all to proceed out of the holding facility and across the compound quickly, quietly, and efficiently.
Gathering up outside of the door to the other building—the building where MDK professed to have been told Croaker was being held—Colton settled his back against the tin, undulated walls and, with weapon ready, eyed the black, rain-swept compound. He had plenty of questions, but knew now was not the time for them to be answered, and as such, he remained focused on the task at hand.
“There is a guard booth on the other side of this door,” MDK whispered from behind his slick mask, “when this door opens I will enter and handle the guard; give me a 5 count before you guys follow.”
Peacekeeper gave the acknowledging nod followed by a brief indication from everyone else that they understood. Jaimy wiped rainwater from her forehead and glanced at Bull’s Eye, indicating that she’d take the side of the door MDK was leaving vacant just before she did exactly that. This put Colton at the left, Jaimy at the right, Freeway behind Colton, and Firewind further down the line from that.
The countdown began.
The cool air of the air conditioned foyer settled against MDK’s soaked clothing as the assassin stole silently across the room, the back of the guard’s head and shoulders visible beyond the booth’s bulletproof glass where he had turned to tinker with a monitor that was rippling with occasional interference. The assassin snatched the handle of the next door with his gloved hand, twisted, and pushed, slipping into the hall just beyond. He turned on his heel and slowly closed the door so as not to allow it to snap shut. The count was three.
Stepping aside, he quickly flung open the door to the guard’s booth that the netrunner had miraculously unlocked. As he entered the room, MDK simply said, “Hey.” The hope was to throw the guard off his scent and make him believe that the intruder was just another guard. It worked.
“Damn computer is—“ That’s when MDK struck.
The forward kick caught the guard in the chest and flung him from the rolling chair. He hit the ground hard, his head cracking against the tiled floor as the air was knocked from his lungs. The look on his face was one of surprised pain, but it quickly transformed into panicked pain as he realized that he couldn’t breathe, and that the black-garbed, battle-masked individual bearing down on him was the reason for it. He hadn’t much time to process the though however. MDK launched himself over the chair, landing straddling the poor fellow, his left hand reaching out to snatch the man’s collar, his right driving with the force of a jack hammer into the man’s throat.
The guard gurgled in shock as he felt his windpipe collapse from the force of the blow. He was completely at the mercy of this blur of black death, but his survival instinct had kicked in, and he began to scramble out from underneath the powerful foe. His bootheels scraping against the floor made slick by the rainwater dripping from MDK’s wardrobe, he barely moved an inch when another blow was struck to his solar plexus. The bones in his chest cracked and pain arched through his body causing the man to thrust his chest outward, his body resting on his heels and the top of his head. That’s when MDK finished the encounter, his ax-kick crushing the guard’s ribcage and collapsing his lungs.
Jaimy had led the rest of the team inside on the count of five, darting around the parameter of the room and coming up on the booth’s window in time to witness MDK’s initial assault. She’d continued past, a shadowy blur on her way to the door, but Bull’s Eye had yet to of seen the assassin in action, and the sheer brutality of the encounter within the booth gave him momentary pause…momentary pause. Then, filled with appreciation for the man’s skills, the nomad proceeded on to the door leading to the halls beyond. Freeway and Firewind were the last inside.
Nicely done, the words scrolled across his MDK’s. The cameras to subfloor 3 have been turned off. We are blind down there. The elevator is at the end of the hall to the left. Good luck.
Peacekeeper had taken up position at the intersection, her weapon leveled down the hall immediately inside of the foyer while Bull’s Eye dropped to a knee and peered down his sights along the length of the adjoining hall. Firewind found himself standing in the doorway, the unfamiliar grip of the submachine gun in hand as the door to the guard’s booth opened and MDK appeared.
The medtech glanced over to Freeway and quickly tried to ascertain the man’s disposition in all of this. What he could see was promising. Freeway didn’t appear to be any worse for the wear having been cooped up in the cell for the last couple of days. In fact, he looked pretty focused.
“Which way?” Jaimy said over her shoulder as MDK appeared.
Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Friday 14th, 2020, 12:05am
Biotechnica Facility Monitoring Room – Northeast of Night City – March, Friday 14th, 2020, 12:24am
Mr. Ackerman listened quietly while his captive spilled the beans. He’d advanced his career based on three merits: he was unscrupulous, he had a talent for reading people, and he was a talented biochemist as well as businessman. While he listened to the nomad’s tale that led up to the death of his only daughter, Ackerman knew the man was withholding information. When Croaker had finished his streamlined story, the corporate knew that hiring Jack had been a mistake. He should have just sent in his hit team, doctored the books a little, and made it so the accountants thought they were expensing a surprise training. Instead, he’d wound up with a major firefight that had already been showcased on the news as a possible gangwar, his only daughter was dead, and now he had a series of freelancers who had information pertinent to his retirement that he had to track down and eliminate…not to mention that bastard, Springed-Heel Jack. The man was well protected and elusive, but Ackerman had already sworn he was going to end the Scot’s life—The Piper too. It would cost a pretty penny, and couldn’t be done through his normal resources, but the hit would be well worth it.
“I think, Mr. Tallon, that you are telling me most of the truth, but not all of it. Care to reconsider?” Mr. Ackerman held up a hand to pause Croaker’s response, and produced a high-end cell phone. Croaker had never seen the likes of it in advertisement, or on the shelves. He imagined it must have the computing power of a regular computer with its sleek appearance and the Microtech logo prevalent on its back face. Mr. Ackerman activated the screen with a single touch of the smooth silver face, and then the contents were hidden from Croaker as he lifted it out of sight. After a moment, he returned the phone to his pocket and raised his eyebrows. “Well, Mr. Tallon? Do you care to extend your usefulness a few minutes longer and tell me the whole of the truth, or should we end our relationship much the same way as it begun?”
Biotechnica Facility Monitoring Room – Northeast of Night City – March, Friday 14th, 2020, 12:24am
Posted on 2008-10-19 at 21:44:21.
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Topic: New Account
Subject: Welcome
Wow! Olan with a daughter old enough to post to games...he's OLD!
Welcome Em! Have fun!
Posted on 2008-10-18 at 21:21:49.
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Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: Audalis
The game is set in Audalis, so you'll use the Audalis pantheon. Unless I misunderstood your question.
Update: looks as though Grugg's life went and got the better of him. This leaves the game with three players of which only one has a finished character (although Caterina is nearly updated). So... I think that I'll get your characters finished and start the game. Though I potentially have room for four more players, the game allows for cameos, and fulltime players to be added throughout it.
Any objections?
Posted on 2008-10-18 at 07:14:44.
Edited on 2008-10-21 at 05:37:53 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Interesting combination.
I'll take one ticket please. Oh, and a large popcorn with extra butter, garlic pepper, salt, and Lawry's season salt. All right, the Diet Coke too--large. Thanks Vanadia!
Posted on 2008-10-18 at 00:28:03.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Insert evil grin here
Croaker is actually a slang term for a doctor. Not necessarily in the nomad's case, but in reality it is. If I remember correctly, our Croaker was named after a comic book character, or something similar.
As for dying...we'll just have to wait and find out how much the dice like you. I only planned for a few of the characters to die (maybe sixty-five percent), and I am not telling you which. Muahahahahahaha-ahem.
OK so I've posted for everyone this time except Sui. Hey, Sui! You alive still?
I look forward to the continuation.
Posted on 2008-10-18 at 00:18:23.
Edited on 2008-10-20 at 05:24:31 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Sorry for the delays.
OK. So I'll be posting this weekend to move us forward. Thanks for the post, Raven.
On a side note, since Trek died I'll be starting another Punk adventure after this one. I know Tann's interested even if Croaker bites the bullet, anyone else?
Posted on 2008-10-17 at 19:20:10.
Edited on 2008-10-17 at 19:22:15 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Yup! Sorry.
I may still be able to post before Sunday. In either case, Wyatt will likely pull a "Family Meeting" together once expenses are figured. With everyone owning a piece of Roc, he'll be expectin' feedback on priority spendin' 'fore makin' the decision on how to spend.
As far as YeOlde's character is concerned, he could realistically be a friend, or trusted acquaitance of any of the long-standing crew and be accepted so long as he's willing to contribute in a similar fashion as the current crew. I don't think Wyatt would allow someone to sign on for straight pay right now, all things considered. he could be family...barring being Willow's, he could be Eden's brother (Wyatt's dead wife). Just another option.
Posted on 2008-10-17 at 19:11:05.
Edited on 2008-10-17 at 19:18:24 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Poor sod
So, um...Sam's going on a trip? I'm a little confused as to the means of transportation he's takin'. Is it a rocket? A train? And then there's the posting 'bout Miss Brigit gettin' frisky with him. This just doesn't add up. Is she on the train, or rocket? What about them fireworks? Wyatt'd surely see those as he's making his way back to the ship, right?
Gorram bills. OK, so I'll have to think on how to distribute the funds and keep Ol' Roc in the air. I likely won't post before Sunday though. Got a lot going on this week.
Posted on 2008-10-15 at 19:46:35.
Edited on 2008-10-15 at 19:52:50 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: Bummer.
I'd hate for his character to go to waste. I know I stated in the rules that I won't recruit to take over other people's characters should they drop out, but seeing how we haven't even started...I'll either have to recruit for Septimus' character, or NPC it. Any takers? While on the subject, any takers for Lou's character?
Did I really start this thing back in May? This has got to be the slowest start for a game ever.
Posted on 2008-10-15 at 06:20:22.
Edited on 2008-10-15 at 06:23:42 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: Uh-oh
May have lost Septimus as well. Anyone heard from him?
Hey, Gruggster! Sui! Any word on those characters?
Posted on 2008-10-15 at 00:43:01.
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Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: I did. Thanks for the reminder.
Feel free to make adjustments. I'll be honest. I didn't even realize the phobia/familiar thing. Too much time had passed in between while making the character I'm afraid. That's funny though.
Posted on 2008-10-13 at 12:42:29.
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What game do you own the 
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The Morphing Game
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