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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Bromern Sal
Topic: New Years Resolutions
Subject: mine


To increase my income by a base of 30%. I did it last year and believe I can more than hit that increase this year. But, this is just the crux. The reason for this is that I want to take my wife (married 13 years) on a real honeymoon. Someplace like Spain, Ireland, or a real fancy cruise.

Posted on 2008-01-01 at 18:12:47.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: If you need help


I can make a character in under an hour (usually), so if you need me to make the character, I can.

Drakar, I still have Lightning, and with some minor alterations I think the character could be playable. A Techie might come in handy here in the future too.

Posted on 2008-01-01 at 00:58:26.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: Whoa, Nelly!


Char's eyes nearly popped out of his head when Arien was sent through the stone wall. His throat caught the exclamation of surprise before it erupted, causing it to come out as a strangled gulp. The ranger was immediately on his feet and two steps towards the tumbled rock before he realized he could not get through.

Spinning on his heel, both swords in hand once more, he tried to sense where these invisible attackers were located. He'd assumed they'd teleported away after their initial, botched attack, but that had been too hopeful. Now, he needed to focus on finding the threat while Kilgrim worked his magic...literally.

"Spread out!" he called, the urgency of his words bringing them out crisp and clear despite his heavy accent. He's seen things like fireballs, and acid balls, and other horrible forms of destruction that covered a wide radius on the battlefields he'd grown up around, and knew that grouped together, they presented easy targets. Even as the words escaped his lips, the woodsman was trying to find the best way for them to get outside and see what happened to the knight. It was then that he registered the words spoken previously by their attacker: they knew Adrian Valentine, the former Imperial, and suddenly--instinctively--Char found himself shifting to keep the battle mage in sight.

(OOC: Looking for some way to get to Arien, and splitting Char's attention between that, keeping an eye on Adrian, and trying to locate their invisible attackers...could still use a map.)

Posted on 2007-12-31 at 04:17:02.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Rules...


I wouldn't get too scared, Sui. The rules are basically the same. It would just make it easier on me since I'm already moved on to FUZION in my tabletop game and I keep having to switch between rules. It's all right though, I'll keep it as is for now.

Point in Fact: Nothing is free in 2020 folks. Even if you have a guy who owes you a favor, there might be costs involved and he couldn't be expected to cover those expenses. Fixers never operate on credit, or when they do you owe them big, and they always collect. Even friends who do you a favor (example: Scribe hooking Firewind and Preacher up with a job for Croaker's sake--see? There, Scribe has just put three people in his debt). Don't make the mistake of thinking you can get anything without trade, or currency.

Note on currency in 2020: You see it now; the economy has moved into more of a none-paper money mindset. People use credit cards, debit cards, and variations of these more than they carry cash. Well, 2020 is more embedded in that mindset than we are. Credchips are the equivalent of a debit, or credit card, though usually only those attached to a corporation are given the credit version. The debit credchip also costs you a monthly fee. Checks are non-existent, and cash money (the Eurobuck, or Eb), is generally only used in underground, or black, operations. The U.S. dollar is worth less than the Euro (similar to how it stands now), and is even more rare. The fact that you are all edgerunners means that you have cash (unless a credchip is listed on your character sheet, and then I usually detail how much is in that account).

Posted on 2007-12-31 at 04:04:22.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Good question.


When should luck come back? I'm thinking that Luck was used during the run on the Hole, and that's old news, so all Luck is renewed.

Posted on 2007-12-31 at 02:06:41.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Not much...


14 Eb. This is why Peacekeeper finally decided to take the job Jack offered despite the short deadline.

Posted on 2007-12-29 at 18:52:56.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Mature Content
Subject: In the Van


Night City University, Medical Education Laboratory, Science Labs Building – Lower West Side – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 2:55am

When Croaker had finished giving instruction, Bull’s Eye pulled away from the curb, and rolled the van towards the street. His hazel eyes perused the contents of their surroundings in a casual fashion, though he was really trying to register anything that might pose a threat while he considered his tribesman’s question. Friends were a precious commodity in this day and age, but Bull’s Eye had been in enough situations where friendship hadn’t accounted for much of anything to be a pessimist when it came to trusting them. As such, he’d pretty much remained a loner most of his life until joining the Tribe. Even then, he’d been abrasive, cold, and very difficult to get close to. He had been told by a prison shrink that it was a defense mechanism born from his father’s and mother’s suicides, but what’d that prick know? Bull’s Eye was cold because of the time and age: he’d adapted and there was no cracking his shell. Hell, even the events of the evening had done little to bat his eyelid. Croaker had managed his affairs as he saw fit, and Bull’s Eye had no real feelings towards any of the others with them, so had the proverbial s*** hit the fan, he’d have backed up Croaker because they were “family”. Now, he drove through the torrential current that coursed downhill between sidewalks and rolled the delivery van into traffic without even a second thought pertaining to what had just transpired.

“I know a fixer, Croaker,” he said in his gravel-filled voice. “Name’s Maverick—small time, probably won’t be able to do much for us, but if we’ve the Euro he might be able to hook us up provided I can get in touch with him. Got some boostergang connections as well, but can’t guarantee anything major there. Also have a hook up with an exec from EBM, but I don’t see how that could help us right now. Aside from that, I’ve got a little over a hundred Eb.

“Now, as far as replacin’ this barge we’ve got a couple of options: steal a new ride, in which case we’re just going to be on the radar again, get a cab—which will cost us some dough—or rent a vehicle—which will cost us more dough. What’ll it be?”

While the driver broke into uncharacteristic rhetoric, Keahi considered what he brought to the table while he shifted his bag about on his shoulder so he could access it, and crouched down next to Peacekeeper’s injured thigh. Producing a pair of scissors, he cut away at the leather around the wound, pulling it away from the injury as tenderly as he could—though with the jarring of the vehicle, it was anything but and the woman couldn’t help but hiss in pain as his thumb dug into the hole. Firewind did nothing to apologize; after all, this was the situation they were in, no matter how grim it might be.

Having cut away the leather to reveal the puffy red wound, the medtech retrieved a sanitizing wipe from his bag and quickly cleaned the implement. The whole while this was underway, he was eyeing the injury, determining the extent of the wound.

“Lucky girl,” he mumbled as he placed the scissors back in his bag and searched for the next item on the list. The small metallic box that was the medscanner came out again. This time, Keahi changed the settings a bit and began his scan. After a moment he nodded to himself and put the device away. It was then that he realized Bull’s Eye had finished.

“I’m sorry Croaker, but I’m new to the area and don’t even have the name of a hotel I can stay at. I do have about four hundred and fifty Euro in cash on me, but that’s it.” Firewind retrieved a pair of surgical grips and paused in his discussion with Croaker long enough to look up at Peacekeeper and say, “This is going to hurt a little.” Before he dug the tool into her thigh, pulling at the aggravated flesh and causing Jaimy to gasp and cry out in pain, shuddering forward while she clenched Croaker’s hand with a vengeance. After three seconds of this, Firewind produced the bullet.

“As far as the vehicle is concerned,” he continued while he found a small plastic sandwich bag in which he placed the bloody round. “I’d suggest we stay off of the radar as much as possible. If anyone has any credchips, or bank accounts, we need to leave them alone lest we find ourselves the subjects of scrutiny.” Firewind next produced a small can that appeared to be aerosol, but when he depressed the nozzle, white foam bubbled over the bullet hole. “So, unless you pay with cash, don’t go for the taxi, or rental, as much as I hate to say it.” With one hand, Keahi replaced the can of Skinfoam while he smoothed out the application with his other. Patting Peacekeeper on the thigh just below her injury he smiled, “All done.”

Night City University, Medical Education Laboratory, Science Labs Building – Lower West Side – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 2:58am


Posted on 2007-12-29 at 01:50:41.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Approach with Caution


Wyatt scanned the interior from beneath the brim of his hat with a calculating eye. There’d been too much chewing on the four leaf clover leaves to allow him the luxury of moseying on in and announcing them with a tip of the hat. He wasn’t altogether sure he liked the idea of a school marm being their ticket—there was something fundamentally wrong about that that left the captain in an uneasy state. Peering in through that window, he wasn’t altogether smitten by her appearance what with his deep seeded devotion to Eden and Summer, but he could definitely recognize her beauty, and he knew that this could mean trouble. He wasn’t so sure about Wolf, but Dash would definitely get some bright idea in his head that would put them in a rather troublesome spot.

“Bes’ behavior,” he muttered as he passed Sam and made his way to the front door. Pausing for a moment, he considered how he should enter, what with the room full, an’ all. After just a brief time he turned the knob, pushed the door open, and ambled on inside. His hat was still tipped low over his eyes, his brown coat hanging loosely about his athletic frame. Entering the room, he stepped just far enough inside to allow his crew to follow.

(OOC: if the following doesn’t fit the reaction, I’ll edit.)

Sung paid the rest of the room no mind, but for a cursory glance to make sure no one was skinnin’ steal. His frosty stare fell on the teacher in all of her country goodness. Lowering his head just a bit, he touched the brim of his hat with the gloved fingers of his left hand.

“Ma’am,” he drawled. “Name’s Wyatt Sung, and I was told you and I needed to talk. This here,” he motioned loosely with his right hand to those who followed him. “Are my crew: Ms. Willow Takahara, Mr. Sam Dash, and Mr…Wolf. If you’ve the time, we’d be mighty obliged to you.”


Posted on 2007-12-29 at 01:16:54.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Time's up...


Logan, sorry to say, but You've forfeited the character. Bull's Eye is now an NPC.

I'm also considering changing the rules to FUZION. There's not a huge difference, but there's enough that it might confuse some people, and the 2020 rulebooks won't be accurate as far as rules go. On the other hand, I could wait for the next game...what's the census?

Ye Olde, I've sent you the character sheet, and I apologize: apparently when we switched to these new forums I lost the character creation rule outline, so here it is:

No skill may be higher than a 7, no stat lower than a 2, and without cybernetics, they can't be higher than a 10. You start out with 75 character points for development.

Posted on 2007-12-29 at 00:51:36.
Edited on 2007-12-29 at 00:55:46 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Help


I'm gonna need a map.

Posted on 2007-12-28 at 17:54:33.

Topic: Star Trek: Operation Persephone
Subject: Charon's Officer Meeting


Stardate: 2374.09.01
USS Charon – Captain’s Quarters – 0750 hours

Kel had cleaned up. He now appeared the quintessential Star Fleet captain, but for the extreme, ugly scarring that marred the left side of his face. Turning from the mirror, he tugged at the bottom of his shirt and made his way towards the door to his quarters. When it slid open he was met by a surprised, and slightly frightened, yeoman who wore the insignia for the station.

“Captain Gavison,” the young man snapped off a salute.

“Well?”

“I—I, uh, have a delivery for you, Sir.” The yeoman held out a small, red box with Bajoran markings along the outer surface. Kel stared at it for a moment before taking it from the man. He didn’t bother thanking the yeoman, or even ending the conversation, he just turned back into his destroyed quarters oblivious to the expression of horror that dawned on the man’s face as he was presented by the condition of the room. The door closed sharply in the young man’s face.

Kelsey handled the box gently as he turned it over and over in his hand. He hadn’t been expecting anything, and in these times, with his mindset, he wasn’t at all sure that this wouldn’t turn out to be a poisonous viper, or a small, detonating sphere. Despite Bajor’s assistance in the war, there were still those who believed that Star Fleet had no business in their space. Kel, and the Charon were public enough figures that killing him would make a pretty loud declaration.

Still, it wasn’t fear that gave him pause; Kelsey Gavison no longer feared death. No, it was the incessant curiosity that screamed “OPEN IT” that gave him pause. He didn’t like to be told what to do…even by his subconscious. After a while of torturing himself, the captain pressed the release latched with his thumb. A red glow surrounded his flesh, the computer iris inside reading his print and delving deeper to sample his DNA. There followed a click and a small voice saying, “Authorized access”, and then the lid popped open. Kel lifted it further and frowned at the small, amber crystal contained within. Pulling the item from the box Kelsey held it up to eye level, his brow furrowed.

Pain burrowed deep inside his skull, straight between his eyes and down to the frontal lobe of his brain. Kelsey gasped and staggered, dropping to one knee on the shattered glass about his coffee table, his right hand dropping the box to grasp the edge of the ruined table for support. His vision failed him, swirling away to black, only to be replaced by a brilliant white laced with fluorescent blues. Kel took in a sharp breath as the pain subsided and a shadowy, robed figure emerged from the swirling lights before his inner eye.

Struggling to maintain his equilibrium, Kelsey Gavison rose up, his ugly face in a grimace while he tugged at the bottom of his shirt once more, the crystal still held in his hand.

“Who the hell are you?” he growled, his right hand dropping to his belted phaser.

“That will do you no good, Captain,” the figure said calmly. “What you are seeing is insubstantial.”

“That didn’t answer my question.”

The shadow remained about the visitor, shrouding his visage and hiding his identity. “I did not intend it to. I merely wished to point out that though your mind perceives this reality, it is but a fabricated existence—a shadow of my mind, if you will. You are a guest in my home, Captain Gavison.”

“Guest? I don’t remember receiving an invitation.” Kelsey’s mood was not improving.

“Forgive the method of delivery, Captain, but matters at hand require the utmost of care lest all we strive for become lost.”

“All we strive for?”

“Yes, Captain. Our agendas are in sync.”

“If that’s the case, then why the brain tap? Hmmm?” Gavison flung his hand towards the figure, angrily illustrating his next point. “Why the special effects?”

“As I said, Captain: The nature of this meeting is a necessity. There are factions within factions, layers of bureaucracy, shadows that begot shadows. This--,” the shrouded man’s arms swept the height of his body. “—is for your protection as much as mine.”

“Why should I trust you?”

“That, Captain, is something only you can answer.”

Gavison’s lip curled in disgust at the nature of the game. “What would you have of me?”

“You are scheduled to embark on a mission—“

“How--?”

“Please, Captain, do not interrupt with questions pertaining to method. You know I’ll not share my instruction with you, you knew that before the question formulated. I will do you the favor of delivering to you the information you will need to proceed with the highest possible levels of success, but you must not question my intelligence. Understood?”

There was a brief pause while Kel considered what he’d just been told, and then, with narrowed eyes and a scowl upon his face, Captain Gavison offered the briefest of nods.

“Thank you,” the figure said. “Now, you must keep the method of our conversation close to your heart, for you will need my guidance. For now, know that those whom you seek are of top priority to the war effort, though your own command does not place as high a priority upon their rescue as they should, at least they have realized some of the benefit the rescue operation will provide. This is a start.

“I’m afraid that they will not realize the full potential until the mission is well underway, if they do at all. By which time, it will be too late to change their approach. So, you must be prepared to take the reins, Captain—“

“I am in joint command of the operation—“

“Yes, I know. With Commander MacTavish…an old friend, I understand. He’ll need to understand the direction and importance of this mission, Captain, and I’m afraid that you’ll need to be the one to convince him of it.”

Kelsey scoffed. “How, when I don’t even understand what you’re getting at?”

“Oh, I’m confident you’ll figure out a way.”

“I need more information before—“

“There will be more information given; when the time is right.”

Kelsey’s scowl turned into a frown as the lights about him began to swirl. “Wait!”

“In time, Captain Gavison. In time.”

With a gasp, Kel found himself standing in the center of his shattered room once more. Blinking away the residual pain, he stared down at the crystal held in his hand and felt hatred grow inside of him. Thrusting the item deep into his pocket, Captain Gavison headed for the door once more.

“Computer: time.”

/=\ It is 0835 hours, Captain Gavison /=\

Kelsey’s neck twitched, causing his head to turn slightly to the right as he stepped into the hall. That encounter had taken quite some time. Who was it with? What was their agenda? Could he trust them? How did they know what the mission was? There were so many questions, so many doubts, and Kelsey Gavison was never one to act without securing his position. His walk was deliberate, filled with the energy of someone with a dangerous purpose as he made his way to his ready room.

Kel greeted each of his officers with a shallow nod, the scowl never leaving his scarred face. When they were all present and accounted for he began.

“Operation: Persephone.” The view screen behind him flared to life showing the details. “That’s our next mission. Star Fleet has teamed us up with a Steamrunner Class that should be arriving within the next few days. The Charon will be in top shape by then, all personnel accounted for. There will likely be a short delay while the Cerberus--the other ship—restocks, and the cloaking device is installed on the Charon, but I’ll have all systems in order and all personnel ready to depart before the Cerberus is in port. If that means requisitioning additional personnel from DS9, so be it. Just make sure it happens.”

Kelsey turned to Jonathan Fletcher. “There’s a Bajoran temple on the Promenade. A priest by the name of Shilotte runs the services there. He was a fairly influential spiritual leader before the War. The intel we have on those we are to retrieve is slim at best. See if you can get any further information from him—see if he knows any of those on that list, John. Take some of Talon’s team with you who are versed in intelligence gathering. Something…tells me, that there’s more to our mission than meets the eye, and we’re not going in blind.

“Lt. Cmdr. Talon, You’ll handle gathering intel on ship operations through the sector. I want to know what we’ll need to expect once we’re through the wormhole. Get with Flight and plot a practical course. We’re going to be lead once we go through as we’ve been there before. I know the captain of the Cerberus and he’s a brilliant tactician. He’s also got the balls to compliment our operation, so let’s make sure we have the information in hand that will help us with the mission.”

“Jones,” Kel turned a fiery eye on his CEO. “I don’t care if you have to strip a passing Ferangi freighter; get the Charon operating at full capacity before the Romulan contingent comes on board, and make sure that everything is secure. I don’t want those pointy-eared bastards to have access to anything that isn’t necessary for them to install that bloody cloak. You understand? They are under surveillance the second they step foot on my ship by your engineering crew. I also expect your crew to get as much knowledge as possible pertaining to the cloak. I don’t want to find ourselves in a situation where we need Romulans aboard when it gets hot—I’ll let Mac deal with that little issue.”

“Talon, your responsible for the security detail that escorts them. I’ll also want you working with Operations to secure all vital systems. Those Romulans are our first threat as far as I’m concerned. We’ll not allow them a chance for sabotage.

“Lt. Hamilton, work with Operations and Engineering. I want to see if we can’t work in some sort of structural scan to our system biometrics. There’s bioengineering and structural reconstruction technology available that would allow an individual to pose as a Romulan—or any other person for that matter—and gain access to our ship’s systems. I want to see if we can catch that problem before it rears its ugly head.”

Gavison took a deep breath, looking very much the part of an ogre. “Gentlemen, I have every reason to believe our mission has been compromised before we’ve even launched. It is up to you to make sure that we’ve recovered before we enter that wormhole, because once we’re on the other side…well, you all know what kind of chance we have of correcting a problem as large as that without endangering the mission objective. Any questions?”

Posted on 2007-12-23 at 20:33:26.

Topic: Star Trek: Operation Persephone
Subject: Cerberus Chief Medical Officer and the 1000 Meeting.


Stardate: 2371.09.01
USS Cerberus – Conference Room – 0854 hours

Lt. Hash had left sickbay after disabling the MHP, spending a little time reviewing the personnel files of those coming on board, and generally entertaining pessimistic thoughts about his new assignment. He knew absolutely nothing about his fellow officers but what was public record, and the fact that everyone seemed green in command did not sit well with the abrasive doctor. It had made for a rather uncomfortable bout of tossing and turning as he tried to stomach his dissatisfaction. When the computer had woken him up by reciting public news articles of preprogrammed interest the following morning, Jon was miserably tired.

He’d dressed in his blues after his ion shower and a brief breakfast consisting of a bagel with cream cheese and a coffee, then he’d snatched a PADD from the counter and as he’d made his way from his quarters towards the lift, he’d begun to peruse the medical files of the command officers: particularly the last time they’d been in for a physical. With the war in full swing and all of the away missions to various planets, it was always too easy to become infected with something unknown. He’d been aware of at least two ships since the inception of the Dominion-Cardassian conflict that were rendered out of service due to an alien bug infection, and he’d be damned if it was going to happen on his watch. With the influx of personnel from all over the quadrant, it was just too likely that something like that could happen despite the cleansing features of the transporter. Too many were arriving by shuttle for his taste. When will people learn that the technology is there to protect as well as make life easier?

Hash made minor acknowledgements towards other personnel who arrived in the lift on his way to sickbay, and so was really unaware of the surprised expressions on the faces of two female redshirts when the message warning him of his meeting at 1000 hours arrived on his PADD resulted in a growled expletive. With a shake of his head, Jon pressed the “acknowledge” option, and then went on about his investigation of dossiers.

Sickbay was just as he’d left it the night before: clean and sterile. Walking through the small admittance chamber, Jon made his way into the glass semi-circular room that was his office smugly pleased that the annoying hologram didn’t present its ugly face. Dropping the PADD on the desk, he rolled into the seat and transferred his investigation to the main screen.

“Captain, my captain,” he muttered as MacTavish’s profile presented itself. “Been a while since you’ve turned your head and coughed, now hasn’t it…” Jon Hash’s eyebrows raised up as he scanned the numerous visits to the infirmary by the man. Broken bones, lacerations, severe skin surface trauma, damaged retina, burst eardrums…the list of injuries went on and on with only the occasional phaser burn. “All signs of physical confrontation…the man likes to get into it with his hands, huh?” Again, the issue of technology…range weapons were invented for a reason.

The review continued, ending when Hash sent a message to Yeoman Weatherly:

Please schedule a preflight medical evaluation for Captain MacTavish as soon as possible. – Lt. Hash, CMO

Then it was on to the next file: Commander Sitok. “Vulcan…” Hash’s eyes flickered back and forth across the screen as he reviewed the immaculate medical history and the recent date of the last check-up. “Leave it to a Vulcan to have everything in order.”

/=\ Lt. Hash, your meeting with the command staff is in fifteen minutes./=\

Jon glanced up from the file at the ceiling as though he could see where the disembodied voice of the computer was coming from. With an irritated sigh, the doctor closed down the files—his position allowed him access to particular information he didn’t want just anyone accessing. As he rose up from his seat, he could see that his medical team had arrived. Jon had briefly encountered their personnel files while in transfer from his last post, but now was not the time to get cozy.

“Prepare for medical evaluations, Ensign,” Jon barked as he entered the main partition of the sickbay once again. “Get with the department heads to schedule the appointments—anyone who has not come aboard by transporter will be top priority, but you can ignore those who’ve had an evaluation within the last month without any away missions, or combat experience in that time frame. These start immediately, understood?”

“Yes sir,” she replied, blinking in surprise at the blunt approach of her CO, the PADD evaluating the medical overhead still beeping in her hand.

Jon gave a nod and was out the door, advancing quickly on the lift. These meetings rarely had anything to do with medical personnel, and Hash usually found them to be an unwelcome distraction to his duties. This one, so early in his tenure aboard the Cerberus was likely to be just that, and when he had so much he had to get done before the umbilical was cut…

Stepping into the conference room, Hash found himself a minute late. He didn’t bother to nod, appraise, acknowledge, or otherwise delay his taking his seat, and when he’d deposited himself in his chair, the CMO leaned back and awaited the business at hand.


Posted on 2007-12-23 at 19:39:28.

Topic: A Cold Day in Hell
Subject: Odds...Never tell me the odds...


Monty heard Blake's statement and swallowed it like a load of rotten cabbage. He didn't need to hear that. Still, the Chief had a point--he needed some security.

"I'm coming out Corporal Fields," Monty called, the cold air burning his lungs and already nipping at his exposed face. "I don't have no weapons on me, so no shooting. My team's got a close eye on things, and should they see me being filled full of holes it can only end bad for all of us...'sides which, I don't look so good full of holes, so do me the favor of standing down so as we can chat a bit."

(OOC: provided they allow him into the room without killing him...)

As Lt. Kernan approached the pair he sought to gather their condition through appearance, stopping some five meters away, hands held at shoulder height.

"See? U.S. Army Ranger, true and true. Like I said, name's Lieutenant Kernan. Me and my team were sent here to help, so maybe you two could be sports and cooperate. What d'ya say?"

(OOC: should the two actually lower their weapons Kernan will try to hold easy, calming conversation with them, leading the conversation towards a detailed report of what happened, and trying to work his team into the room through the soldier's good graces. "I've got a medic with me, maybe you boys'd like t' have her take a look at ya?", "My intelligence officer would sure like to hear that straight from your mouths, if'n you don't mind.", Why don't we all break out the hot chocolate and share some stories...")

Posted on 2007-12-23 at 19:06:43.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Mature Content
Subject: On the Lam


Night City University, Medical Education Laboratory, Science Labs Building – Lower West Side – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 2:50am

The weather hadn’t improved at all since they’d arrived at the college laboratory. Wind whipped at Croaker’s trench coat with a ferocity indicative of an angry child while rain stung his face. Firewind ducked his tattooed face against the driving wet and grimaced as a chill snaked its way up his spine. Merry Deth’s corpse was still scantily clad, bloody, and ghastly pale in the darkness. As though luminescent, the medtech thought grimly while the two of them hurried to Jack’s vehicle. The driver of the black SUV stepped outside, his dark clothes blending with the night as he made his way to the back hatch and opened it, the whole time eyeballing their surroundings, one hand on the submachine gun slung to his waist. Peacekeeper had followed the other two, on the heels of Bull’s Eye, but now stood at the top of the stairs, scanning the campus for any sign of trouble while the smaller of the two nomads went on to the van and slipped into the driver’s seat.

Inside the lab, Preacher gave a nod of recognition to Spiff’s words of thanks—such gratitude was precious thin in this day and age. It was an awkward emotion, and mostly ignored, especially by those with means. The solo didn’t take it for granted. Stepping into the hall, he winced in pain and thought longingly of better days when he had someone to go home to; when he didn’t leave home to make a run. Now, shot up as he was, Preacher knew he was in for a long night, and the very thought made him tired.

Pausing in the immaculate hall near the door, Preacher took a deep, rattling breath. He had hoped they’d find time for a break where Firewind could patch them all up with greater attention, but he knew from experience that the medtech had already done all he could for him. Preacher needed a hospital. Coughing a little blood into his gloved hand, the solo wiped the frothy red on his trench coat and weakly proceeded outside. He paused near Peacekeeper, watching Croaker and Firewind manipulate the body into the back of the SUV, pain wracking his body. Glancing down at the bounty hunter’s injured leg, Preacher offered a weak smile and then continued on to where Croaker was just stepping back from the large black vehicle, wiping his hands on his own clothes.

“I’m not comin’ with you pardner,” Preacher said just loud enough to break through the wind. The solo had to hold his cowboy hat on his head the weather was so violent. “I’m going to catch a cab to Crisis Medical and check myself in. Not sure I’d be much more than a liability during what you’ve got going on here in the future.”

“You heard Jack,” Keahi had his hand held in front of his face as he squinted into the storm in order to see the injured solo clearly. “You go off on your own and you’re dead.”

“Maybe. Fact is, I’m used to hidin’ from the big dog.” Preacher offered his hand to the medtech. “You done all you could for me, Firewind. I thank ya for savin’ my life.” After Keahi had shook, Preacher offered his hand to Croaker. “Good luck, Choombatta. ‘The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me? Pslam one eighteen, six.”

Preacher didn’t wait for a response, but took himself immediately from the scene. He hung his head, held his hat in place despite the pain of the pressure against his skull—it helped keep him focused. Within moments, he’d rounded the corner of the building and vanished from site. By that time Jack had already returned to his vehicle and he and The Piper were being led out by another of Jack’s carload of bodyguards. Turning from the ghost of the cowboy solo, Croaker could see that the van was already started up and just waiting for he and Firewind. Peacekeeper still stood guard at the top of the stairs, and the backs of DigitalScribe, Spiff, and Guardian were visible heading off in the opposite direction from Preacher.

“I don’t like this at all,” Keahi muttered just loud enough for Croaker to hear as he climbed up into the back of the bloody van bay. The tattooed face turned to the nomad once they were all inside, Peacekeeper included. “We should have stuck together, egos be damned. Strength in numbers, ya know?” The medtech was tired. The action had died down and despite this growing feeling of impending doom as the team split up, he was finally feeling the wear and tear of the night, both emotionally and physically.

“Where to?” Bull’s Eye said as Croaker resolved the conversation with Firewind. Peacekeeper—being the best shot, and the most combat capable—had taken shotgun.

Night City University, Medical Education Laboratory, Science Labs Building – Lower West Side – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 2:55am




Night City University, Medical Education Laboratory, Science Labs Building – Lower West Side – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 2:50am

As Digital Scribed nudged Spiff's shoulder, the fixer returned to the conversation. "I think I'll take that offer. Probably not wise to call a cab to this place right about now." Spiff put his phone away and followed Guardian out, limping.

The large bodyguard paused in the hall, surveying the scene, and likely half expecting Croaker to be waiting with an ambush. After all, hadn’t he started the night protecting his charge from the large nomad, and now DigitalScribe had just invited another who’d pissed the man off into their fold. Guardian certainly didn’t consider Spiff to be someone he was in charge of protecting, but the man’s presence added another complication to be sure. When he was positive that the hall was safe Guardian motioned Scribe and Spiff out, continuing up the hall to where the exit was bathed in the soft green light of the sign bearing the same name.

“You should probably have that looked at,” Scribe said in a nonchalant tone as they made there way in Guardian’s shadow. The media made no attempt to look down at the fixer’s leg, but it was obvious what he was referring to. “I know of someone if you’ve got the cash to keep it on the low, otherwise I suggest we make a detour to the CMC (City Medical Center). You’re call, Gato.”

(OOC: no matter the decision…)

Guardian stepped into the storm like a statue of riveted steel, apparently unaffected by the torrential downpour. He stood next to Peacekeeper for a moment, eyeballing the interaction between Preacher, Croaker, and Firewind, taking in Jack and The Piper entering their black sedan, and then peering out across the back alley of the building. With a slight movement of his left hand he directed his charge to peel off to the left, and after he heard the door close behind them, he also turned and made his way quickly to the front.

They continued on to the edge of the building. Ahead of them there was a long stretch of open green, darkened by the night with barely any light from the security floods penetrating the pitch and casting a pale glow across the sloping hillside. A row of trees, dancing like marionettes on the string of an insane puppeteer, ran the length of the road at the top of the hill—the road that separated the campus from Lake Park. There, traffic flowed, and it appeared to be the party’s destination as near as Spiff could tell.

Once they’d crested the hill, arriving between two of the trees, DigitalScribe stepped forward and waved down a passing taxi. It was a fairly simple task, seeing how the taxi services prowled the campus and park for fares at all hours of the night and day. A dark red cab with black and white checkering along the frame pulled up. It was a sedan made by Nissan Chrysler, glistening with rainwater, and driven by an Indian. Scribe slipped into the back seat, Guardian into the front, leaving Spiff the passenger side of the back seat.

“Where to?” asked the cabbie, his turban was soaking wet, his shoulders and back showing the same affliction.

Scribe offered the destination and then turned his attention to Spiff while the vehicle merged with traffic. “Here’s the problem as I see it. I’m going to need a story to back up my claim. I can lead into it, and I believe I can get them to believe I’ve got something juicy, but if I don’t produce in the end I don’t make the grade.” It was obvious that the media was speaking loosely for the benefit of the cabbie. “I’ll place a call. I’m fairly certain that it’ll be my In. But to be frank, our boys in the other dorm are gonna be hard pressed to come up with anything solid without your help. Any ideas on how you’re going to support that vein?”

Night City University, Medical Education Laboratory, Science Labs Building – Lower West Side – Night City – March, Friday 13th, 2020, 3:10am

Posted on 2007-12-23 at 18:42:05.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Too late, so sorry.


The only player who actually let me know what was going on of those who haven't posted yet was Raven. As such, the others are going away. See the post for specifics.

Preacher has left the party.

Logan, I need to know if you are still interested in playing Bull's Eye. I'm not sensing a great dedication to the role and so far the character has been superfluous to the storyline. I'd like to see him become more than just a driver as he's capable of a great deal more, especially where interaction between Croaker and him is concerned. Should you decide to drop the character I'll just NPC him as opposed to asking someone else to pick up the role.

If other players are interested in joining, I think at this point I will only accept new characters into play. It would be more difficult to have someone try to merge with the old character than it would be to introduce one that better fits their style of play.

Posted on 2007-12-23 at 17:48:43.
Edited on 2007-12-23 at 18:56:52 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: tools


Check the Armory link and Trek Tools for the logbook.

Posted on 2007-12-21 at 01:08:59.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: There are three...


Three who have posted. Need the rest. Tic toc, Choombas. Tic toc.

Posted on 2007-12-19 at 15:18:52.

Topic: A Cold Day in Hell Q&A
Subject: Awe shucks.


Was that concern in your tone?

Posted on 2007-12-19 at 15:17:27.

Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: Pulling a little tactic from Mass Effect.


Chastising statement: using the logbook will help eliminate conflicting timeline posts.

Positive remark: the posts thus far have been invigorating.

Posted on 2007-12-19 at 15:16:04.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Sunday, Sunday, Sunday!


That's right! I'm giving you until Sunday. If I don't have a decent post from you by then to continue the storyline I'll NPC the character. Warning served...

Posted on 2007-12-18 at 04:57:09.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: By the way,..


I didn't feel the need really to expound too much on what Willow expected of Wyatt. I think he'd just let her be about her business while keeping a close eye on things, hand near his weapon. Cathy pegged it when she typed out his retort though.

Posted on 2007-12-18 at 04:55:56.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Killer.


Don't sweat the small stuff...like gaming. We'll still be here.

Posted on 2007-12-18 at 04:54:45.

Topic: A Cold Day in Hell
Subject: answers


Lt. Kernan continued to disarm whilst receiving suggestions from his team. There really wasn't a whole lot of time to debate the situation as far as the LT was concerned. The longer hey sat out in the hall jabbering, the more likely those soldiers were to think they were hatching a plan, and in their already delusional state, Monty couldn't risk it.

"All great suggestions, folk's," Kernan breathed into his reciever. "But as pointed out; Inga's too valued of an asset, so's Blake; seeing how she's the only one of us here who might be able to fathom what's going on. They see a private dancing into their line of sight, and they're just as likely to shoot as not. Kane...they might mistake you for one o' them yeti--look, it's a risk, but who are you more likely to trust in this situation? I'm relying on their training. When they're confronted by an officer in the flesh, they'll be more likely to respond as trained soldiers.

"The decision's been made, so stand ready."

That said, Monty proceeded as previously outlined.

Posted on 2007-12-16 at 08:55:30.

Topic: A Cold Day in Hell
Subject: We'll play that game...


Monty lowered his head for a moment while he considered the request. Then, with a quick nod, he switched to the radio covering his entire team.

"I'm going in. The rest of you will remain at ready. Should any shots be fired your main objective is to take these soldiers alive. Understood?"

(OOC: if any objections are sounded, and only if...)

"Look," Kernan's tone was matter-of-fact. "These are our boys out there. It don't matter if they are a bit screwed up in the head right now, or not. They are Americans, and they deserve the respect of one Lieutenant if they've been through the Hell we've witnessed here. Just make sure that they don't suffer more should they make the mistake of acting out against me."

(OOC: otherwise, and continued...)

Lt. Kernan stripped his M6A1 from his shoulder and handed it off to Sgt. Kane. He followed this up immediately with the M13. Then, without hesitation, he rose up from his crouch and called out to the men in the room.

"Corporal Fields, I've turned my weapons over to my team. I'm coming out."

With an uncovered face, hands held at shoulder level, palms towards the room, Kernan walked slowly into the room.

Posted on 2007-12-15 at 18:03:06.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: on purpose


I left if hanging there on purpose so people would have a chance to post reactions. It is easy to assume Peacekeeper follows Croaker, and after barely being reunited with his tribesman after a few years apart, it is an easy thing to assume Bull's Eye goes with him as well. Firewind made his choice and is opting to stay with the larger crowd. What Preacher does is up to the player. Spiff has an invite from Scribe to go hang with him and Guardian for a bit (separate from Croaker), and Jack Co. is going their own route.

Right now, no one has officially left the building, though many have left the room.

Posted on 2007-12-14 at 06:46:22.

 


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