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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: I tried...
I tried holding my breath, but after the third blackout my wife made me move away from the computer.
Posted on 2006-09-28 at 20:31:44.
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Topic: Star Trek: Discovery - Q&A
Subject: And on rare occasions...
If Gavison has drank enough port he might be found underneath the captain's chair singing softly to himself.
Posted on 2006-09-27 at 18:03:59.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: LOL
I love Cyberpunk!
Ok, so the hang up revolves around Peacekeeper running the meeting from the group's side of things and I am currently allowing DarkAutumn to review the character so she can pick it up. I didn't want to get too much further if she was going to take over the role, but she had some difficulty viewing the sheet so I had to resend. Hopefully this will be resolved soon. I liked the previous momentum.
Posted on 2006-09-27 at 18:01:45.
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Topic: Star Trek: Discovery
Subject: A WHAT?!
Stadate: 2366.10.21
USS Discovery, Gavison Quarters – 0700
“Shouldn’t you be about your duties, Commander?” Sherry’s hands slipped around Kelsey’s chest like smooth silk. He felt her head press into the small of his back and the warmth of her body slowly meld with his as she delivered the hug. Placing his left hand over her hands the big man made a soft ‘hmmm’ sound, but remained otherwise quiet. The object of his attention lay before him in a sleek, safe sleeping container. The soft pink of her skin, the rustic wisps of red hair that seemed to fly from her tiny head, the delicate curve of her tiny mouth as it went through the motions of suckling even though there was nothing to suckle, the tiny hands gripped into little fists—this was Kaila… Commander Kelsey Gavison’s daughter of three days.
“You’ll be late for bridge duty,” Sherry observed, still pressed up against his back, unwilling to let him go despite her words.
“I’m going to get us transferred,” Kel whispered, prying himself from his wife’s grip and turning to look her in the eye, his craggy face a mask of seriousness. He’d been swept away by the sudden rush of emotion at the thought of putting his little family in danger, and despite the Federation’s best attempt being aboard a starship wasn’t the safest place. “Someplace quiet back on Earth. Hawaii, or Scotland. You can continue your research and I’ll—“
“You’ll what?” Sherry sighed and smiled up at him. They’d had this conversation at least six times since Dr. White had delivered the baby. “Sit on the porch and command seagulls?”
“I don’t need to command—“
“You don’t fool me, Kel. If you weren’t in charge of something you’d be the biggest pain in the ass for your fretfulness. I’d never be able to live with you and I cringe to think of the neurosis poor Kaila would grow up with.”
Kelsey’s brow furrowed. Despite the fact that he knew Sherry was joking with him, the comment hurt. It was a double stroke to boot, for Sherry was cutting at his long-time desire to be the best officer Star Fleet had ever known and his fear that he’d be a terrible father.
“Look,” Lt. Gavison gave her commander husband a pat on the chest before straightening his comm. badge. “Plenty of people maintain families aboard starships, and we’re on one of the best. Go play Star Fleet Command with your friends and stop worrying. We’ll be fine.”
Kelsey mulled over the best response, what with his feelings stirred already it was difficult to find the right thing to say anymore, and he was more than self-conscious about it. Finally, he settled for a nod and with a tug at the bottom of his uniform shirt, the XO of the Discovery made his way from their personal quarters.
Sherry watched him leave with a kind look on her pretty face. She knew he was a wreck, but didn’t know how to help him. He’d always been the strong one, the stoic warrior in the face of danger, the wall against the crashing seas; now he was scrambled, constantly worried, and somewhat detached. Kaila coughed a little, drawing Sherry’s attention back to the crib where the baby opened and closed her delicate little fingers for a moment before falling back into a deep sleep. With a smile on her face, the new mother brushed a bit of that unruly hair from the little girl’s forehead and turned to be about her morning exercises. She was currently on maternity leave and had another three weeks before she was expected back on the active duty roster, but she kept herself busy with formula and readings transferred to a PADD Kelsey had procured for her, cleaning (uneccessarily for the most part) and following the exercise regime Dr. White had laid out for her. She was determined to lose her baby fat… bent and determined.
USS Discovery, Bridge – 0712
“Officer on deck!”
Gavison acknowledged the recognition of his position with the smallest nod as he made his way down the familiar gangway to the three seats that fanned the command consoles. It was his shift so he ignored his usual seat at the captain’s chair right and sat directly in the captain’s chair. The XO half-heartedly accepted a PADD with the previous shift’s report and the prelimenaries for the new shift from a blur of movement next to him, holding the already forgotten device in his left hand while he stared out at the drift of stars flowing past them on the viewscreen. Where he should have been considering the condition of things, the commander was, instead, remembering the time Sherry had told him about their upcoming life change. It was shortly after Gavin III and it’d been a shock to his system that he’ll not soon forget. As a matter-of-fact, it hadn’t gone too well:
”Kel,” Sherry had said one evening while he read a Narrative and Lyric Poems From the Masters on the PADD. “I—I have something to tell you.”
Kelsey set the PADD on his lap and looked calmly at his wife. He’d known her for years, though most of it had been spent on different ships he could still tell when something was really eating at her.
“Kel,” she took a deep breathe and then released it. “I’m pregnant Kel. We’re going to have a baby.”
He’d stared at her, his expression unchanging for a long moment. Then, “How?”
It’d gone downhill from there.
“Commander Gavison?”
Kelsey blinked and shifted uncomfortably at having been caught in reverie. Shifting his gaze to a young Yeoman he gave a nod.
“Captain Blair has asked for you to join him in the Observation Lounge at 1100 hours, sir.”
“Thank you, Yeoman,” Kel gave her a nod and then took in a deep breath. Pull it together Kel. You’re XO of one of the most amazing starships every created by Man and you’re rattled by a six pound, three ounce girl that can’t even recognize you yet!
Lifting the PADD, Commander Gavison began a half-hearted review of the reports.
USS Discovery, observation lounge – 1055
Just outside the Observation Lounge, Kel encountered Lieutenant MacTavish and Doctor White. With a nod, he led the two men into the room and took his customary seat to the right of Captain Blair while the other men sat in their usual places without putting too much space between them and the captain. The seat to Blair’s left was ominously empty.
“Thank you all for coming,” Blair began. “There;s no real need for me to beat around the bush here, so let’s get started.” Gavison met the man’s gaze. Over the past few months their relationship had relaxed a little as they’d gotten to know each other, but when it was business, Kelsey was all business.
“We are scheduled to rendezvous with the USS Valmont this evening at approximately 1800 hours. As of that time, Commander Avanti will be transferring off of the Discovery in order to assume executive officer duties aboard the Valmont. It is my understanding that we will be receiving a replacement chief engineer at that time.”
Gavison remained quiet, digesting the news and feeling a little surprised he hadn’t been informed of this prior to this meeting. It wasn’t required of the captain, but with the way things had been developing, Kel would have expected it. During the past eight months he’d grown accustom to having the large alien around. He’d enjoyed their sparring, their banter, and their quiet camaraderie on the Bridge and throughout away missions. Kelsey wasn’t the type to begrudge a friend a well-deserved promotion, but he felt strangely abandoned by this sudden departure.
“Now, this leads to the main reason for our meeting. Commander Avanti’s departure leaves a hole in our chain of command.” Gavison met Blair’s look with a calm expression once again. “Mister MacTavish, you have proven your worth time and again since we first set sail. Therefore, it is my pleasure to designate you as our new second officer.”
Kelsey’s stomach clenched almost painfully. Their relationship hadn’t improved at all since Gavin III. Kel had decided that the man was as roughly hewn as the countryside from which he hailed. The XO still hadn’t found that ground that allowed them to interact for long without him being forced to heft that shield of professional conduct, and he was sure Mac felt the same with him. This would certainly be an interesting challenge.
“Congratulations,” Kelsey said with a nod and a smile.
“Doctor,” Blair’s attention had changed, so Gavison followed. “It is my understanding that you have rekindled interest in command training, and are even now logging time on the holodecks to perform the necessary coursework. Is that correct?”
OOC: assuming a positive response.
“You have fifteen years’ service in Starfleet, doctor, and I am well aware of your sound judgment from firsthand experience. Furthermore, I do trust that you will successfully complete command training in a timely manner. Therefor, I am appointing you as acting third officer aboard the Discovery.”
“Doctor,” Kelsey said by way of congratulations accompanied by another nod and smile.
“Congratulations, gentlemen. The three of you are among the finest officers I have had the privilege to serve with, and you all richly deserve your success. Any questions?”
Gavison had none so he remained quiet.
“Very well, then.” Blair stood, Kelsey followed suite. “Dismissed.”
Kelsey planted a smile on his face that was well-rehearsed diplomacy and waited while the other two made their exit before following them out to once again take command of the Bridge.
“Chief Raines,” Gavison said as he tapped his badge.
=/= OOC: response =/=
“Please report to the Bridge.”
=/= OOC: response =/=
USS Discovery, Bridge – 1130
Kelsey looked up as the lift’s doors swept open admitting Benjamin Raines onto the Bridge. The other man was powerfully built, similar to Gavison, only younger and slightly better maintained. As the Chief Operations Officer made his way down the ramp, Kelsey rose and went to meet him.
“Good morning Mister Raines,” Kelsey said with a friendly smile. The two of them had worked closely together over the past few months and an easy atmosphere had developed there.
OOC: response
“I’ve just been informed of a change in roster. This will likely mean very little by way of strain on your current system, but we need to make sure temporary quarters are established until we can make other accommodations.
“Commander Avanti has accepted another post and we’ll be receiving a new Chief Engineer. Once Avanti has successfully retired from the Discovery we’ll move this new officer into his quarters. I don’t want to rush it, but we do need to make this officer feel welcome. See that Engineering is informed of the pending arrival and that everything is in top shape. I’d imagine that the new CEO will be receiving a welcome from the captain and a tour of the ship, so prepare for that as well. There’ll likely be an officer’s dinner set up to allow the CEO time for mingling and such, but you’ll have to check with the captain for a specific time.
“Also, as soon as this new officer’s record becomes available I want a copy of it. See to it that MacTavish and Dr. White have one as well. I’d imagine that Dr. White will want to schedule a complete physical with the new CEO so speak with him about coordinating that as well.”
Kelsey grinned and placed a hand on the officer’s shoulder. “I’d normally not pile all of this on you and allow for the usual delegation, but this is one of the newest members of command and it is imperative that the individual feel as welcomed and as taken care of as possible.
“Any questions?”
OOC: allowing for questions.
“Good,” Kelsey gave the man’s shoulder another pat and then dismissed him with a nod. Returning to his seat, the XO’s mind drifted once again to the vision of his baby girl… his angel.
Posted on 2006-09-26 at 22:54:56.
Edited on 2006-09-26 at 22:56:10 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Star Trek: Discovery - the relaunch (recruitment)
Subject: Ahem...
*Mumbles under breath* So, I kinda misplaced the URL to the roster and such... can someone provide it please? No laughing at the XO!
Posted on 2006-09-25 at 22:38:18.
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Topic: Star Trek: Discovery - Q&A
Subject: Ooo!
Goodie!
Posted on 2006-09-21 at 19:45:10.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Yes...
Still working through that via email, though I will be online later tonight and we could possible finish it up via chat if you're interested Suicidolt. Just let me know.
Posted on 2006-09-19 at 18:20:21.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Searches around...
...for Char's accent again.
Now where did I put that?
Posted on 2006-09-19 at 18:16:25.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Mature Content
Subject: Taking Charge.
The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:20am
Peacekeeper’s hand hovered just inside her Plastech duster. She was inches from the handle of her Smartchipped Automag and through practiced speed she could have that weapon in hand and be firing in less time than it took to realize there was danger. The cab’s interior light flickered on as the side doors opened. Out each side stepped two boosters, both Hispanic, one slightly larger than the other. The bounty hunter and her two companions were quick to notice one of them shoving a chrome-plated Automag into his waistline between the baggy jeans and the bright blue and white striped boxers. Then the man Jaimy assumed was Spiff stepped out and began leading the way towards them. He was a smaller man than Croaker—skinnier with less of an imposing mass—with short, neatly trimmed black hair and a clean-shaven face. He wore a black Plastech duster that currently bore a nice sheen to it in the rain, jeans and a t-shirt, as well as a pair of silver shades that seemed to almost melt into his face. Aside from the real clean look, he could have been the average Joe on the Street.
“Ok,” she said in a level voice as he stopped a decent distance away. “I’m Peacekeeper, this here’s Croaker, and this is Preacher. What’ve you got?”
Lightning flashed ominously in the sky followed almost immediately by a near deafening crack of thunder that caused everyone to flinch.
The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:22am
Posted on 2006-09-17 at 15:22:53.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: You're the second...
You're the second person who said they sent me an email I never received. Send it again and I'll let you know if I get it. I don't purposefully ignore those, ya know?
Posted on 2006-09-17 at 14:57:49.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Mature Content
Subject: The Meeting.
The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:18am
The cab pulled around in back of the van as instructed. Next to him, Spiff felt the two Hispanic gangers shift with a readiness to spring from the cab should it be necessary. The one to the right (The Reverend had called him Roller) already had his Automag in hand, the chrome reflecting the dim overhead of the streetlamp. The one to his left (Coyote) hadn’t pulled his Uzi yet, but it was easily accessible from his waistline. The cabbie knew he was caught up in some clandestine meeting and sat very still, waiting for his next instructions, or the opportunity to bolt.
In the van, Peacekeeper took a deep breath, calming her nerves as she always did before walking into the unknown. With a glance towards the dark figure of her lover, the famed bounty hunter stepped up to the back door, crouched, and flung it upward. It rolled and clattered on its track, bouncing off the back a bit, and then settled. Dropping from the bumper to the soaked concrete below she didn’t even bother to pull her jacket tight about her. She was going to give the impression of nonchalant cool despite the acidic water coursing down her shirt and between her breasts. Unlike the rest of her companions she hadn’t even pulled steel, having replaced her weapons in their proper places after checking them for usability. Now, the tips of her techhair glowing red, she quickly jerked her head to the right, popping her neck a little, and began sauntering towards the cab. She stopped halfway between the two vehicles, her eyes scanning the area around them without moving her head. Peacekeeper was the epitome of style in her slick leathers, shiny, glowing hair, and casual cool stance.
The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:20am
Posted on 2006-09-16 at 18:27:57.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Did you?
Was that email sent to me?
Posted on 2006-09-14 at 19:39:08.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Certainly
Since our PMs only allow for individuals to be sent the message right now emails are best so that I can be included in all of them.
Posted on 2006-09-09 at 18:02:58.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: It all be set up Choombattas!
All right folks, it is all set up. Now, we'll have to backtrack a little, but hey, it's fun right?
Posted on 2006-09-06 at 19:26:33.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Mature Content
Subject: Cerebral Paradox - Mature Content
The last post from me.
The Mean Streets – Upper East Side – Night City – 12:15am
Peacekeeper acknowledged Croaker’s instructions with a nod and retrieval of her phone. Flipping the face open she thumbed through the last number received and hit dial.
“Spiff? Peacekeeper,” she’d have liked to of been able to look out the back of the van, but the steel door had no windows so she stared out the little bit of the front that she could see and continued her conversation as per her instructions. “We’re in the area. Have you picked us up?
“Good. We’re going to park this rig. The meet’ll take place once we’ve stopped.”
That said, she ended the conversation (unless Spiff has any questions that need answering) and drops the phone back into her jacket pocket. Just as everyone else in the van seems to be doing, Peacekeeper does a brief weapons check while Bullseye finds his preference for a place to park.
The Mean Streets – Night City – 11:05pm
Doing his best to hide his surprise, Guardian shrugged. "You getting soft with age, Scribe?" The black bodyguard then smiled softly and shook his head sadly. "No, old friend. I'm afraid I didn't pack anything that doesn't kill or cut this time... Unless you'd consider my fists and feet as such of course. I've got the Tae Kwon Do chip, but nothing ranged."
Frankie tightened his lips and gave a nod. The news was disturbing to him; despite his intention to get the story no matter the cost, and his belief that Croaker would likely not be as kind the next time they met, DigitalScribe hadn’t stopped feeling a certain familiar fondness for the gruff nomad (though he only worried about Jaimy out of respect for his friend).
“Well,” he said in a soft voice as he peered out the windows into the flashing rain. “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
The rest of the ride was spent in relative silence. Frankie had a lot on his mind, spinning and crafting the words that would make up his rhetoric when he actually went in to splice the story together. He already knew he was going to write it out for the screamsheets and the Net-feeds; he also knew that he was going to document the whole thing digitally and create a “live-action” report with voice-over once he had the whole thing pieced together. This offered the best possible coverage and the greatest opportunity for return.
“We’re here.” The cabbie rapped on the protective shield between them with a knuckle as he glanced briefly over his shoulder. DigitalScribe blinked away the construction of his story and peered through the rain at the red building that loomed up on the left-hand side of the cab.
“Go around,” Frankie instructed their driver. “To the other side.”
The cabbie complied, hanging a left and driving along the north face while his passengers took in the relatively clean appearance of the building, the glowing activity inside, and the empty streets surrounding it. Then they were past, moving further down the block towards the west corner. “Let us out here,” DigitalScribe ordered as they drew up on the lit street. The cab pulled over to the north side and with a touch of a button the credchip reader in the back stopped calculating the fare and displayed the total in digital display. Frankie fished out his image wallet and retrieved his credchip with a grimace on his face. This had better be the pay-out you think it is Frankie old-boy, he thought as he swiped the chip and received confirmation that the fare (plus tip) had been deducted from his account. By this time Guardian had already vacated the vehicle and was standing with the door open getting wet all over again. Scribe slipped out and silently sighed as the rain started coursing down his neck and back. He slicked his techhair back and watched as the cab left the curb to speed away after its next call.
“All right,” Frankie said while pulling his collar up and glancing worriedly at his shoulder-mounted camera. The device was combat ready and a little rain wouldn’t hurt it, but it was one of Scribe’s most prized possessions so he fretted over it anyway. “There was a parking lot just south of the building on the interior of the block. I think we’ll head that way and begin our little scouting operation. What d’ya say Guardian?”
Pier 2 Paradise Rent-a-Space – Room 14b – Night City – 11:02pm
The Red Cab was waiting outside for them when the group of four hit the main floor of the Paradise Rent-a-Space building. The janitor glanced at them with some trepidation as they passed, probably having been informed of the body he’d have to clean up in 14b, though the meat would bring the man a pretty penny at the body bank if he were the scalper type. Before Spiff stepped into the rain the Reverend ducked his head a bit and eyed the black storm with reservation.
“If you tell me t’ ride this one with you Spiff, I’ll ride,” he glanced at the hombres he’d arranged as protection for his boss and gave them a nod. “I ain’t a gunner, and’ll be of better use to you working the business, si?” What he said was undeniable. The man was a decent lieutenant, but he was no solo. The two gangers he’d arranged to ride shotgun weren’t even solos—there was nothing professional about them—but they knew how to use those guns and could intimidate most of the common rabble that Spiff had to deal with on a regular basis. The fixer had never been so lucky as to have a childhood friend like the Piper, nor had he reached a point in his career where he could afford a fulltime bodyguard. Maybe after this run Springed-Heel Jack’s promise would make him prominent enough that he could expand his horizons.
With the troupe in the cab and on the road their passage across the High Street and into the neighborhood of the address he’d been given was uneventful.
The Mean Streets – Night City – 11:32pm
Arriving on the scene, Spiff instructed the cabbie to wait, pulling up by the bus depot so as to remain inconspicuous. “Si,” the Hispanic driver acknowledged, professionally keeping his eyes on the road. “Would you like to listen to some music while you wait gato?”
Whether the sounds of Mexican Rock play through the cab or not, Spiff has plenty of time to make whatever phone calls he wishes to make and the cabbie (who is apparently savvy enough to understand the Rules of the Streets) plops earphones in so that he can’t overhear while the others stare out the windows. A little over a half-hour later, with very little comings and goings at the building designated the Hole, Spiff catches sight of a MDS Delivery truck turning left onto the street he’s on and making its way away from him. Following the fixer’s instructions the cab peels away from the curb and falls in four car lengths behind, making the rounds of the block…
Posted on 2006-09-06 at 19:14:28.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: I'm sure it is a temporary dislike...
Ok, it looks as though we've heard from everyone so I'll get the Recruitment thread and the Game Thread back in order. Then, we can begin shooting things again.
Posted on 2006-09-05 at 23:13:57.
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Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
All right Choomba's; the game is still on. The characters are here, but are the players?
Players needed: If people are interested, I'll entertain entry...
Croaker | Nomad | Male | Tann'Talas
Peacekeeper | Bounty Hunter | Female | cdnflirt
Guardian | Bodyguard | Male | Raven
Spiff | Fixer | Male | Suicidolt
MDK | Solo | Male | YeOlde
Ligthing | Tech | Male | Draker
Bullseye | Nomad | Male | NPC
Firewind | Medtech | Male | NPC
DigitalScribe | Media | Male | NPC
Springed-Heel Jack | Fixer | Male | NPC
The Piper | Solo | Male | NPC
Deaths and Exits
Preacher | Solo/Netrunner | Male | Left the party injured and looking for medical attention. Payed by Jenthliadon last.
Swiper | Netrunner | Male | Limbo while Netrunning. Last played by Ayrn.
Coyote | Cop | Male | Was killed at the Hole by The Wild Things. Played by Blammm.
Kendi | Solo | Male | Killed in a gunfight in an alley with security guards. Played by Jenthliadon.
Torrent | Solo | Female | Kendi's partner. Killed in a gunfight in an alley with security guards. NPC
Jazzer | Netrunner | Male | No longer in play
Roles:
A really creative cat can fit any role into a contract, but there are a few roles that work well for this particular gig: Solo, Netrunner (possibly), Medtechie, Techie, Media, Corporate (somewhat), Fixer (A little more so than a corpse), Nomad, Bounty Hunter, Investigative Reporter, and Private Investigator.
Style:
Look, gato; this is ‘Punk. If I gotta explain to you how important style is, you should reconsider your application. When you create a character make sure you follow the rules. You’re allowed 75 Character Points. You can’t have a Special Ability over 7. And you have to figure your starting cash right. Buy your gear straight from the books, Cho’. If you have a question about it, ask. I’ll answer, I promise. If you don’t list it on your character sheet… you don’t have it. That includes yer skivvies, punk. Oh, and I expect you to detail where the item is located too. If you’re carrying it in your bag, make sure I know where it is. If it don’t have a location, its considered left at the last place you were at before postin’ and that could be really bad…
Note
If you’re going to get a cell, treat it as a top of the line phone for modern day plus some (vid-phone, all of the features of today’s phones, longer battery life, etc.) and tack on a 30Eb/month bill, no up-front fee. You’ve now got a contract, Cho’. Better hope you can uphold it. Make sure you list all of your monthlies. Also, if ya want a Net Access Code, it is coming outta your starting Eb. :
Entrance Exam:
Naw… just screwin’ witcha. There ain’t no exam. But, I do expect you to be able to write. I hate trying to decipher screwed up vernacular and spilled alphabet soup. You gotta be descriptive. If I’m gonna spend time writing a good tale, I expect my players to join in the storytellin’. Here’s a hint: write your post in a word processor before submitting it. Spell-check. Grammar-Check. Then post it. I’ll accept abbreviations of words like “screwin’”, and “they jus’ don’t know what thar gettin’ into”, and such if it is for the sake of expressing the character’s verbal conduct, but I won’t accept ChatSpeak, ALLCAPS, strange variances on the English Language for the sake of sounding “cool”, etc. I think you know what I mean. Don’t make me shoot you.
Know Your Surroundings:
READ MY POSTS. I’ll give you the same respect. Don’t take liberties… if you have a question ‘bout what’s there, ask and I’ll answer. Don’t play God or I’ll have to perform deicide.
Location:
Night City, baby. The home of the cyberpunk movement, but that don’t mean it has to stay there.
Language:
We’re in a public forum, gato. Don’t go throwing language around like it was yesterday’s news. Substitute the F-bomb for Frack, Frackin’, and Fracking. Use slang… show me you’re intelligent enough to substitute frog-speech for something interesting. I won’t gripe at the occasional colorful metaphor, but if it gets out-of-hand, I’ll have to shoot you, and you won’t like that.
Sex:
Ya… I know, I’m gonna hear it: “’Punk is all about sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll.” Well, we’re in a public forum not the adult forum, so keep the sex outta this. You can hint at relations, but you get descriptive and I’ll have to shoot you. Man, that’s comin’ up a lot lately!
Involvement:
I know you got a life. I’ve got one too. But if you join this game, I expect ya to keep current and not be the one holding up the game. I reserve the right to be the only one holding up the game. Comprenda? Ain’t it a bummer when you’re all revved up ready to carry on and some poodle sitting next to ya is licking their… well, you get the drift. Hold up the game and I’ll shoot—ok, you know what I’ll do. Try to post every couple of days minimum.
Death:
It’s bound to happen. You’re gonna die. I mean, no one lives forever, right? Well, if you’re one of those who is dealt the Ace of Spades, don’t take it personally. If you’re enjoying the game, submit a new character. I’ll find a way to slip ya in. If you’re not enjoyin’ the game, then you’re probably thanking me for icing your sorry butt anyway!
Cyber:
Sure you can take out a loan from a Fixer or Corporation to get the added metal, but expect me to show you the consequences of trusting your soul to the gods of 2020. Hell! You can even bring a full ‘borg conversion in (if your character survives the EMP loss), but expect there to be a downside as well. Full ‘borgs aren’t walking the street left, right, and center, ya know. They cost an arm and a leg and most people go ‘psycho before they go ‘borg, so they aren’t as common as some GM’s would have you believe. Trust me… I’ve talked with Mike Pondsmith about this. Chances are ya aren’t gonna start with a lot of metal. Be grateful for it… going ‘psycho ain’t pretty.
Speakin’ of Which:
Cyberpsychosis. You reach that point and I’ll take your character over, turn him on your friends, have him eat the neighborhood cat, torture his family to death, and wind up standing center stage for Network 54 while MAXTAC stuffs a rocket up his backside and turns the night sky into a 4th of July celebration. Watch me. You drop to a 3 EMP and you’re a cold-ass, bee-otch. You go 2, and you’re makin’ out with the toaster. You go 1 and any little thing could set you off. Where most people cry at the end of Old Yeller, you’re crying at the end of Maximum Overdrive and holding court in the junkyard.
I.P.
No, this isn’t a statement of urinary prowess. I will award I.P. as I see fit. This means that just because you succeed at using a skill doesn’t mean I’m gonna dump a truckload of I.P. on your head, sing your praises, and watch you advance to GO. I give ‘em as I see fit. No argument.
Argument:
Do it in private messages, and when I put my foot down, don’t tread on my toes or I’ll have to shoot you.
Zonin’:
Don’t go ramblin’ about last night’s football game, or the fantastic turkey sandwich you just experienced that took you to the next level of Zen. This area is for Cerebral Paradox only, Cho’. Don’t make me prune… I hate pruning. I won’t mind shooting you though…
Lastly:
Cook for two-minutes on high, rotate, then cook for one-minute. Let stand for five-minutes and… Enjoy!
Posted on 2006-08-30 at 19:46:14.
Edited on 2008-01-24 at 13:35:38 by TannTalas
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Topic: Star Trek: Discovery - Q&A
Subject: I'm good...
I'm good either way; new mission, continue the old one. Kel and Sherry are ready to go.
Posted on 2006-08-30 at 19:17:56.
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What game do you own the 
Return to Charadun - Q&A
The Morphing Game
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