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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Bromern Sal
Topic: A Grumpy Old Bear
Subject: .

Posted on 2017-09-18 at 08:54:44.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: I'm glad!

That's two of the number who have checked in.

Posted on 2017-09-14 at 12:17:52.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Welcome back Ody!

What about STDs, Roger? Just as dangerous as bullets.

Posted on 2017-09-14 at 12:17:13.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: I hope not too!

We haven't even gotten past the "Get to know your character" part!

Thanks for being intrusive!

Posted on 2017-09-13 at 18:32:16.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: I was thinking the same thing...

That's all right, Puhn yo. We all get shot at eventually. (Wish I could say I was referring to RPGs only.)

Posted on 2017-09-13 at 18:31:25.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Looking and Listening

Day 1, Whitefall - Necessity, "The Slaughterhouse", 8:15 PM PT

"It's been somethin' of a day, Eagle," Wyatt answers after a moment's contemplation, "an' yer likely wantin' t' kick yer boots up an' have a good time fer a bit. I don't mind a game o' cards every now and again. What's the game?"

"5 Card Draw Poker. We keep it simple as we don't want to remember a lot of rules and we can still play if we ain't sober." Eagle replies

"Well," Wyatt pushes his hat back on his head and raises his brow. "If'n there's room at the table you can deal me in." Looking at his remaining crew, Wyatt gives the nod, releasing them into the wilds of the saloon.

Jeremiah and Wolf start talking about the fights and the two move off to another table as word passes around that Wolf might take on Bart. Wyatt isn't sure how he feels about the fight and determines to ponder the conflicting emotions churning inside while he plays a few hands. Sam turns down the offer of the game and Eagle-Eye offers up Jeremiah's seat to Wyatt after snatching the rancher's hat away from him, scooping his chips into it and then handing it back to the man. "There you go Captain. What can I get you for the bar?"

"Nothin', thanks." Softening his direct decline of a drink with a rare hint of a smile, he momentarily feels that pull towards the alcohol's warm embrace. Deliberately turning his intense gaze back to the others at the table he adds, "I'd prefer t' keep my wits about me as it's been a few since I last played even a half-serious game."

The game begins with a fair amount of chat going on across the table—these are men that know each other well. Wyatt plays a few hands and watches his potential client through the corner of his eye. Surprisingly, after a while, Potter picks up his drink and walks over to Sam. This'll be interestin'. he allows a momentary distraction from the pair of twos in his hand and leans back a bit in his chair to stretch out the tenseness in his shoulders. He trusts Sam, but he also knows that the pilot has a bit of a mouth on him. A conversation with Sam Dash can go any direction.

Straining his ears, Captain Sung attempts to discretely catch anything that is said at the bar.

Posted on 2017-09-13 at 11:01:05.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: We seem to be shy a couple of players...

Still looking for some additional posts...

Posted on 2017-09-13 at 10:51:47.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: Missing a couple of players...

We seem to be missing a couple of players. Have we sunk?

Posted on 2017-09-13 at 10:49:55.

Topic: Genesis Q&A
Subject: Yes!

Someone found RL and fended it off a bit. Keep up the good work!

Posted on 2017-09-13 at 10:45:53.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: And I have accepted it...

If you go select the new Icon you'll fix this monstrosity.

Posted on 2017-09-12 at 18:20:54.

Topic: Genesis Q&A
Subject: Where is that scoundrel?


Posted on 2017-09-12 at 18:18:36.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: I thought it was great!

I, too, will post soon.

Posted on 2017-09-07 at 20:20:01.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: I've reached out to Olan about that.

I used to have server access, but I don't anymore. I reached out to Olan to see if I could resize the image. We'll see.

Now, about the game....

Posted on 2017-09-07 at 20:12:10.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: Any other posts pending...?

Or should I just move things along for those who have posted?

Posted on 2017-09-06 at 18:13:04.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: You are doing great!

Unless you collaborate with the other players (or myself where an NPC is concerned), you can write in (OOC: comment here, response here, etc....) for any conversations with other characters. You'll notice that I do make some minor adjustments here and there to make sure things flow, but most often you can safely assume certain answers from them and continue the conversation, posting that you'll make corrections as needed. Just don't write out what they do or say unless they give you permission.

I've updated the game, you squishy meatbags, you!

Posted on 2017-09-06 at 18:11:42.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A Night City Adventure
Subject: Trouble in Paradise and Who Brought the Popcorn?

Hightower's BBQ | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 8th, Day 2 (Saturday), 1:00 PM PST

Weather Conditions: High City (Thunderstorms, 15mph winds from the NE.) | Midcity (Rain, 10mph winds from the NE.) | Undercity (Fog and Rain, no winds.)
Air Quality Index: High City = 25 | Midcity = 42 | Undercity = 75 (masks required)

As the others find a place within the cramped office space, Casino catches his partner's attention with a motion accompanying the big man's move back out of the room. Knowing what's pending, the dapper solo quietly turns on his heel and follows.

"OK, I'm pretty sure that you could all use some food," Casino addresses the rest of the team at the door. Signaling to the black girl at the counter he grows impatient as she gives the blond man a look that practically screams you aren't my boss. Exasperated, he looks towards Granger for support. The older man raises his eyebrows and turns to the young woman, giving her a nod of approval. Shaking her head, the girl snatches up a thin tablet computer and walks back towards the office.

"Don't be pretendin' that you're the boss around here," she says to the large solo. "You ain't, and I don't even know what you're doing here. So, don't be gettin' all up in my business."

"Look the menu over," Casino motions to the tablet she offers to Ghlahn and ignores her sass. "Give her your order and she'll bring it to you free of charge. Vegas a moment of your time, please."

Granger coughs to catch his "guest's" attention and inclines his head purposefully Casino's way. "I'm not running a charity, Keith."

Mumbling something under his breath, the owner turns back to his dough-making while the two teammates continue on their way. Making their way back to the sinks where the general noise of the dishwasher helps keep their conversation semi-confidential, Casino turns on Vegas.

"Let's get this out in the open between the two of us before we join the others. What you did in front of the club was complete bulls***. You got me shot and picked up by the cops and during my ‘stay' last night at Regional General Hospital I almost got killed by a bunch of dirtbags."

"Read about it in today's late edition," the wounded man adds acerbically. "But read me loud and clear on this Vegas, you pull another arrogant asshole play like that—putting us all at risk for your ego—you do it on your own. I will not be there to back you up."

Toning his voice and anger down he looks Vegas right in the eyes, placing his hand on the dapper solo‘s shoulder.

"Look my friend, we have a run to finish and I'll be there from this point all the way, you know that. The rest may not know it, but you do—that I won't leave you or any of this group hanging. Just be smarter, OK? Don't let your ego and confidence get us in a bad spot again, that's all I ask."

Vegas merely nods as Casino vents his frustrations, along with his allegiance to getting the job done. When Casino finishes venting, the Dapper Solo merely replies, "Our partnership is done!"

As the Frank Sinatra look-alike makes his way to the office door, he offers his former partner a brief explanation, without a bit of concern as to the Big Solo's reaction: "I am done with this business! I got your back and you got mine! That is fine with me!"

Vegas strides towards the door and away from his ex-partner.

"Ok," the muscular giant says in heated response to the man's back. "Let's get back to the others."


Ghlahn looks at the waitress with a flat stare. "BBQ suits me fine. Whatever you have, I'll have two of them." It has been awhile since his last meal. Finding a table where he can eat and keep watch in the confines of this little room is impossible, so he settles for a place by the door that affords him a view of the kitchen and the counter beyond. "Anyone else want BBQ? Or want to fill me in on what took so long in the school. Got a bit dicey there for a second with those sec-teams."

Studiously not looking at the red-head's face as he speaks up, the clerk punches a couple of items into the pad and then offers it over to Fixer.

Glancing at the menu he says, "I'll take double meat and cheese burger with whatever you can cram between the bun, onion rings and a chocolate shake."

"Uh, look here, sugar," the girl juts her hip out to the left and shakes her head in exasperation. "You got choices like pulled pork, spam, brisket, turkey, and chicken, but we gots no burgers. Chocolate shake? Please. What do you think this is? McDonald's?

"I'll bring you a pulled pork sandwich, some chips, and a Coke, and you'll say thank you when you get it." Holding the tablet up, she stares wide-eyed at the others. "Anyone actually wanna look at this thing, or what?"

Perhaps a little chastised, Fixer looks over at Ghlahn and says, "Might as well wait for the solo brothers to finish their little spat before we get into it; unless you want to hear it all twice."

Echo reaches out and takes the menu, adding her order to the list. "I'll have a double pulled pork sandwich with everything on it, a basket of fries with cheese, and a Coke," she says while looking the digital offering over. Punching in her desired meal she settles into the only other chair besides the one at the desk in the room. Sitting across from Ghlahn—happy to be sitting finally—and rubbing her injured knee under the table she holds the pad up for the next team member to take. Still feeling embarrassed by her fall, she has no desire for anyone to mention her injuries or her slip, so she covertly checks them herself, seeing what range of motion she has in her wrist as well while waiting for Vegas and Casino to have their chat, and for their food to arrive. She is ravenous and grateful to discover that her injuries are marginal at best!

"Give me the best thing you have and a water," Says Bloodbank, being hungry from all the events. "Been one heck of a day. What are we going to do next?" Thinking back on the events and being thankful things went smoothly apart from the minor bumps and encounters. Thinking of how things could have gone differently, but being thankful they worked together well; knowing that some of the others may be somewhat injured, Bloodbank doesn't make mention of it assuming if the injury is bad enough, they would speak up. "I'm gonna kick back for a moment and rest while we wait on the food."

Entering the office, the dapper solo finds himself a space in the corner of the room where he can check, clean, and reload his weapons. The look on his face is stone but not enough to hide the fact that whatever conversation the two had just held did not go well.

"First," Casino strolls in, "let me apologize for my absence. I ran into a bullet and needed to get attention for it. However I'm as good to go as I'm going to be, so please fill me in on what, if anything, did you all find out?"

"Can I borrow his wall screen?" Blossom asks Casino, not waiting for a greeting or any other pleasantries. Seeking permission also appears to be rhetoric as she immediately calls up her keyboard from the bracer on her wrist and types furiously. Seconds later, the screen flickers and the map is replaced by video footage from the school's security cameras.

Everyone's orders in as much as they are going to be, the clerk makes an audible sigh and takes the menu in hand. "You all need to pull yourselves together. Ain't no one paying attention to no one else. Crazy like my Aunt Selia." Exiting the room she leaves the edgerunners to their business.

"While you were out playing cops and robbers at the hospital—" Blossom glances at the disgruntled, injured man. "—Oh, I saw the television on the way in, Anyway, we got our hands on a few hours of surveillance video.

"I've got a search running right now to find an app that will scour through it so we don't have to waste the time, but this is it. This is all we got for the time being. Jiggy, right?" Turning her attention back to the wall, the Asian mutters, "I've already sent word to Starlight about what we're doing. P to the S. She isn't exactly happy with the way things are going. She said to tell you lot that we better clean this up quick to make Saint Nick happy. The jolly elf has heard about what went down at the school and is threatening to pull in another team. From what I gather, Starlight did her thing and we're still in, but remember that whole low profile thing? She seems to think that closing the contracts on a few hosho kaisha isn't exactly that. She says, where is that?" eyes flick about behind her sunglasses. "Oh, yes. If we want to continue doing what we do, we better do what we do a little less loudly."

Raising her thin eyebrows and brushing her platinum hair out of her face, the wardriver declares, "Ah! Got it. Now, I'll plug this picture in,"

Mental commands combine with the wrist keyboard to generate the instructions for her AI and a few seconds later the video on the wall starts to play at too rapid a pace for the naked eye to discern.

Turning away from the screen, Blossom rests her elbows on the desk behind her and rolls the lollipop in her mouth to the other side. "We'll know whether there's anything on these vids worth watchin' in a couple of minutes, tops. Meanwhile, who here wants to know whether these two lovebirds have kissed and made up?" Looking between Casino and Vegas, the small woman rolls the sucker around again. "Can't have two guns hatin' on each other supposed to be watching my pretty little backside."

Vegas looks up only momentarily to address the rest of the group by saying, "Fill in Casino with all the details that my friend needs to help us get the job done. I trust him with my life."

(OOC: Feel free to add whatever you'd like,)

Storytelling isn't anyone's particular forte and the information about what occurred on their run is spilled before everyone's orders are served. Any questions about what befell Casino are asked and answered while the food is consumed. There's no doubt that the meat is vat-grown, but it beats kibble and that beats going hungry, so there's no complaints. By the time the meals are finished, Blossom's app has returned its results.

Playing back the first of the earmarked timestamps reveals a man of average build with thinning blond hair and sallow cheeks standing a few feet away from Jase, talking with the boy for a good couple of minutes before they part company. The angle of the camera is wrong for lip-reading and there's no audio included.

The next snippet of video shows the boy without any obvious concern hanging out with some other children his age before entering the dorm room.

"That's odd," Blossom states. "There's no other facial recognition tags. Our boy, Jase, just vanishes unless his face isn't seen by the cameras after that.

"While the other video played, I ran some cross-checks on the staff at the school. That shaikujin, Jase was talking to in the first one is staff at the school."

She hurriedly taps a couple of commands on her keyboard and then swipes away from the device towards the wall screen. A picture of the man appears overlaying the video.

"Doctor Phil Carey," she announces. "He teaches Corporate Law, and, he's been out sick since just after that video."

(OOC: Time is 1:40 PM)

Posted on 2017-09-06 at 18:09:08.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: It's all good.

All of the characters are now in Hightower's BBQ. The back office to be exact. Crammed in there like sardines.

My continuation to the game did not happen today as I'd hoped. So, you have another evening to get a post in if you are so inclined.

Posted on 2017-09-05 at 18:41:08.
Edited on 2017-09-05 at 18:42:39 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: I was hoping for full player involvement...

But four out of six ain't bad all things considered. I'm going to attempt to post a continuation today.

Posted on 2017-09-05 at 10:52:15.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: I've sent the character link again...

What does "A while" look like?

I hope everyone had a good Holiday.

Posted on 2017-09-05 at 10:48:02.

Topic: Genesis Q&A
Subject: I feel a....

Disturbance in the Force.

Posted on 2017-09-05 at 10:43:31.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Hurrah!

Looking forward to it.

Posted on 2017-09-05 at 10:42:45.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: When Anna says...

You'll probably want to go ashore and find some sailors (preferably other PCs) to join you.

Posted on 2017-09-02 at 16:47:10.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: I appreciate the post, Tann...

I made a couple of edits.

1. Granger's place doesn't have a large anything other than the dining area, and that's relative. So, I changed the size of the employee lounge.

2. Fixer and Casino have no relationship, so the friendly banter (big galout) would be out of character.

Posted on 2017-08-31 at 13:37:17.

Topic: Genesis Q&A
Subject: I've posted!

I have indeed.

Posted on 2017-08-30 at 18:00:22.

Topic: Prometheans: Genesis (The Reboot)
Subject: Overwatch

March 10, 2014 20:47:10 GMT
Somewhere above the State of Sao Paolo, Brazil

The past several hours have elapsed without Afton Pembroke having to pay much attention to navigation at all. D.A.D.D.E.'s recent telemetry and reaction control system upgrades have performed perfectly and, since he has deployed from his jet off the coast of Africa, steadily guiding his flightpath to bring him in over South America on a vector from Fortaleza, south and east, toward Brasilia. Thus far, the flight has been effortless and, as such, has left him plenty of time to review the data that Project Prometheus has managed to compile on the subject he has been sent to retrieve; an A-3 dynamo that goes by the moniker, Disturbance.

To Pembroke's mind, the information is patchy, at best, and almost seems to be an amalgamation of data on more than one person. The dossier names the man Preston Smith, but there are numerous other aliases associated as well. Many of the files he accesses, too, have been heavily redacted in key areas, primarily by various government agencies, it seems, but in places, by other organizations outside of any known regime. All in all, it has been a bit of a jigsaw puzzle but, if all the fragmented pieces are truly applicable to the same man, this retrieval will certainly be an interesting one, particularly the bit about the uncontrolled electrical manipulation Smith is purported to be cursed with.

A bit of sympatico and irony, that, Pembroke thinks wryly. It hasn't gone unnoticed that he and this Smith share something of a similar affliction; he can't help but wonder if it hasn't cost the man what it has cost him... and, if a suit similar to D.A.D.D.E. might not provide Smith a solution as it has himself.

Pembroke's leisurely musings over Smith and his "plight" are quickly relegated to the back of his mind when, D.A.D.D.E.'s HUD flickers and the suit's wide-range scanners pick up on an encrypted transmission.

",all for God taking care of your little problem, D; just figured I'd try to help out while He was working on it." Through the static that seemed to permeate the communique, a long low whistle was heard. Then; "I think you covered about four miles with that jump! Goooood hang time! You're gonna come in awful close to the town, though."

another voice responds through the electronic humming, "a little close. Still in the wee hours, here, though, and I don't plan on sticking around long enough for the welcome wagon to show up,"

"That's him," Afton says, "It has to be.
"Isolate that transmission and get me a vector," he commands the suit.

"Acknowledged," D.A.D.D.E. responds in its dry British voice, "Triangulating."

"And do see if you can't tidy it up a bit," Pembroke requests just as dryly, "That fuzz will wear a man's nerves quite thin after a time."

"Initiating audio enhancement algorithm's. Stand by." D.A.D.D.E. replies.

"Anything," the first voice queries as D.A.D.D.E. begins filtering out and/or compensating for any interference.

"Nothing major. We're good," returns the second voice, the static significantly reduced, now, "Should hit the border in an hour or so."

"That's the end I want the track on," Afton explains, "Let's not worry about the other, as yet."

"Affirmative," D.A.D.D.E. answers politely, "Target acquired. Suggested intercept vector plotted."

"Affirmative. We'll have an extraction point for you at Bela Vista. How's the charge?"

"Building, but still negligible. If I can hit Bela Vista in the next three hours and your guys can get me shielded, we shouldn't have to worry about pulsing the chopper out of the sky."

"Copy that. We'll be ready."

"As will we," Overwatch mutters, scanning the telemetry data on the HUD and adjusting his course. He watches his target closely for a moment, and a number of calculations run through his mind all at once. The neural interface with D.A.D.D.E. picks up on his thoughts and overlays the computations.

"Open a channel to our local resources in Paraguay," he commands, "Dispatch a unit to the coordinates specified."

The suit confirms the order with little more than a beep, then after a second; "Message relayed. Local assets deployed. ETA 17:53:06, local time."

21:58:06 GMT - Less than a kilometer south of the Paraguay-Brazil border

When he hits the ground this time, Preston doesn't immediately leap skyward once more. Instead, he grits his teeth, clenches his fists, and remains there, crouched down in the tiny pockmark his landing has made while trying to contain the surge of electrical energy that arcs maddeningly beneath and now visibly across the surface of his skin.

",ston?! You oka,? ,st you in a clo,rst or som,! Pres," Dweeb's transmission is squawky and garbled, of course, but he gets the gist of it and hopes the helmet is shielding his own vox-mic enough to send something acceptable back.

"Roger," he responds through clenched teeth, "I'm still here, Dweeb. That thunderstorm packed a little more kick than I expected! Might have made a liar out of me in regards to what I said about my charge, earlier. I'm feeling kind of jazzed, right now. Think I'm gonna sit here and wait for it to disperse before I get any closer to your team."

"Preston? D.. ou copy?... ome i,"

Yeah, Preston grimaces, straining to stand against the upwelling electricity, I'm on my way, Just, gimme a, minute,

",and he does not restrain the lightnings when his voice is heard,"

"Well, come on, then,"
Preston pleads, lifting his eyes, if not his body, skyward, "Let it loose! Or show me how to restrain it, or, NNNnnnngggg!!!"

Overwatch drops down below the clouds. He positions his flight path to come in on the mark's six. Out of sight while he eavesdrops on the conversation.

The surge doubles Disturbance over and he feels as if he has to lift the welder's mask visor of his helmet in order to breathe, "No more than you can bear," Preston growls, forcing himself upright once more, "The Lord gives you no more than you can bear," He lets his head fall back in order to look at the sky without the visor in the way. That intended path of sight, though, is diverted by the sight of the armed and armored troops who now ring the edge of his tiny divot, their weapons train unerringly on him. One of those troops—or, perhaps, it is someone else that Preston can't see—shouts out a command in Spanish, He thinks it is Spanish, Can't quite make it out over this buzzing.

"No habla," Preston can't help but lie, fighting the lightning and the urge to leap out of here all at once, "Lo siento, no habla, You all really should get away from here, Muy rapido!"

"Hold your positions," Afton orders the local assets through D.A.D.D.E.'s direct link to their communications channel. "Prepare the containment pod and have it ready to move into position fast."

"Remain still and keep your hands where we can see them, Mr. Smith," Overwatch cautions the asset after switching to external audio with a thought, "and get to your knees. We're going to manage your electrical problem for you and then, you're coming with us. Your compliance will make the entire process much simpler."

Even as the power surge begins to send crackles of light through his vision, Preston squints in the direction of the voice, seeking the source of these new commands. He tries in vain to shake those arcing motes away when his gaze settles on a sleek but imposing onyx figure hovering in the air above him.

Preston Smith surveys the armed and armored Spanish troops who are arrayed in a ring around the edge of the tiny divot that he has made by his sudden landing mere moments ago. Then his focus settles upon the imposing onyx figure that is hovering in the air above him. Preston allows the electrical charge to build within him, without offering as much resistance to its building power, as he ordinarily would do. He needs to complete his rendezvous with Dweeb as soon as possible!

The words of a familiar song resonate inside his helmet that looks a bit like a heavy welder's mask. Preston is overtaken by his Rocker personae as the power surging within him continue to build—while he assessed the threat of the flying figure as well as the Spanish troops arrayed against him.

Disturbance suddenly launches an offensive as he sings Street Fighting Man by The Rolling Stones out!

Those words highlight the severe volatility of Preston Smith to Afton better than even the readings D.A.D.D.E. is spitting out. Another mental command returns the suit's communications back to the private channel.

"Prepararse," he warns the Project Team.

As Preston, aka Rocker, unleashes his power against his assembled opponents; vowing within himself to not be taken prisoner again by the Agency against his will, he bellows: "My name is Disturbance!"

Even before the last syllable of the asset's name is begun, Overwatch takes action. Electricity won't necessarily have an impact on D.A.D.D.E. due to the suit's insulated shielding, but those troops are certainly susceptible to a charged attack. The Project needs this asset in tact. He's powerful enough that properly leashed, he could do some good. Unleashed, he's nothing but a danger to humanity. Should he remain unleashed—or untreated, uncontained—he is nothing more than a threat to humanity.

Shoulder plating opens in a blink of an eye and mini-grenade launchers spit out two grenades right on top of Disturbance. The indicators in Afton's HUD display show one less sleep gas grenade and one less flash bang. The Brit is hoping that if the gas doesn't have an effect on Smith, the flash bang will be enough to disorient him so Overwatch can move in and wrap him up.

Posted on 2017-08-30 at 17:59:14.
Edited on 2017-08-30 at 17:59:47 by Bromern Sal


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