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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Bromern Sal
Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: All kinds of confusion!


Yeah... I really shouldn't post using a phone. I shall commit a right proper self-flogging.

Still waiting on posts from Keeper and hopefully Altaira. Once I at least have the post from Keeper I'll continue the game.

Posted on 2018-01-08 at 09:29:47.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: You are right...


My apologies. I wrote that post on my phone while watching the Crown with my wife. Maybe I shouldn't do that...

Posted on 2018-01-05 at 14:51:57.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: All of them...


Any radio frequency has the chance of being intercepted if someone knows what they are looking for. The NuCybe is the least troublesome but it is also a buy as is scenario. The jury-rigged are the second most secure becauseFixer has more control over distance, band, etc. (e.g. AM band vs. FM, 500 ft vs. 1 mile).

Posted on 2018-01-05 at 14:50:42.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Burner phones


They do exist. However, tracking software and methodology in law enforcement is much more advanced. Anything pre fabricated would be considered susceptible to teaching or interception.

Posted on 2018-01-04 at 23:39:52.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: Quite fun!


And I have updated the game. Sail on.

Posted on 2018-01-04 at 23:34:56.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon
Subject: And... action.


Tuesday, June 3rd, 1670 a.d., Tortuga Bay Settlement (Ile de la Tortue), roughly 5:42 P.M.; Beach

Goncalvo laughs to himself as the woman vents her fury. It seems she is happy to remain in her current situation. 'Can't say I didn't try to improve her lot.' Resigning himself to another night alone, he returns to the longboat to return to the Dog. There he will report what he has learned to the captain.

Caribbean sun dipping towards the western horizon, a welcoming breeze blowing in off the salty waters, having just avoided conflict by being aware enough to recognize danger where others might not have, Goncalvo is again blessed as he saunters up to the longboat without any further disruptions.

"Sailmaster," Seamus Higgins is the sailor on the oars. A broad-shouldered, slim waisted man with a crooked smile and good looks, Seamus wears his red hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. His freckled skin makes him look older than he is and his Irish accent often causes people to have trouble understanding him. "Ready t' return t' da Dog, are ya?"

(OOC: Assuming an affirmative,)

Higgins looks behind Goncalvo and sweeps the town's outskirts with his pale blue eyes. Satisfied that no one else is coming, the Irishman turns and, together with the Sailsmaster, pushes the craft into the increasing waves.

"Did ya ‘ear wha's ‘appened?" Seamus grunts while clamoring over the side of the boat and dropping into position.

(OOC: Assuming something like, "No, do tell!")

"Hellfire kilt a guard an' a city official," Higgins grins handsomely.

(OOC: Reaction, if any,)

(OOC: Time is roughly 5:48 PM)

------------------------------------------------------------------

Tuesday, June 3rd, 1670 a.d., Tortuga Bay Settlement (Ile de la Tortue), roughly 12:03 P.M..; The Rub of Del Monte

"Yer death be somet'ing we've all been lookin' forward to, Crowe," Kidane growls, "but it is I who will kill you this day, or are you such a coward that you dare not face me as a man?" Slowly, methodically, as if to drive a point home, Temesgen Kidane places his right hand on the hilt of his cutlass.

"Th' same can't be said fer you, eh, Kidane," Fin mocks as his hand releases the pistol and finds the hilt of his blade, "What wit' yer bringin' yer doxies there ta a man-ta-man fight?" If Kidane makes a reply, it is lost to Fin's ears; drowned out by the metallic hiss of his blade clearing it's scabbard and slicing through the air towards the African's right wrist.

Temesgen Kidane is fast. Always has been. But Fin's speed surprises him enough that the big man is unable to even clear his weapon from his belt before Kidane finds it necessary to wildly reel away from the precise attack. Fin's strike very nearly catches nothing but air where against a lesser man it would have certainly removed the hand from wrist. In this case, the quartermaster's blade slices through the pants at Kidane's hip and leaves a small, stinging gash just above the bone.

Barely escaping the loss of a hand, the fierce African tears his weapon free of its sheath and roars as he lashes out in an attempt to take off Crowe's head.

Even as he curses his luck for missing his intended target, sparing Kidane his sword hand, Fin's wolfish smile only grows wider as the giant of an man roars in surprise, pain, and anger. He doesn't relish in the moment for long, though, as Temesgen's saber is swiftly following. Still smiling, perhaps even snarling a challenge, Crowe bounds backwards in hopes of dodging the wild swing, eyes flashing as the cutlass whooshes past. Fin's gaze is still intent on the black man, but not so much so that he fails to notice those who have accompanied his antagonist moving about in reaction to the fight. While Kidane is still the most prevalent threat, Crowe decides to press his advantage.

Still smiling, Fin lashes out with another sweep of his cutlass. Kidane attempts to twist the sword he's wielding back in time to deflect Fin's speedy attack. Metal clangs against metal and sparks fly as the blades slide along one another. The defense guides Crowe's attack away from the main body but it isn't enough to entirely deflect it. Wincing in pain, Kidane hitches his step slightly against the slashing wound. Now wounded on both hips he rolls his shoulders and reverses the direction of his deflection. Attempting to slice the razor sharp edge of his blade across his opponent's chest, the African is immediately disappointed.

Crowe's smile still doesn't disappear. It does tighten into something more akin to a determined or defiant snarl though as he brings up both of his blades to intercept the man's slashing attack. Again, blades ring out as Fin crosses his dagger and cutlass to catch the bigger man's incoming attack down at the right of Crowe's abdomen. Turning his own blades and sliding Kidane's out of the way, Fin barely manages to deflect the attack away from his body. Meanwhile, one of Kidane's entourage starts to slide his mass behind the table Fin just vacated in order to spread out the blockade the quartermaster is facing, and another makes his move to circumvent the other closest table.

Crowe scarcely has a moment to suppress the grunt forced from him by the impact of Kidane's blow, even less to check the positions of the African's henchmen who all seek to ensnare him like a fish in a net. Hoping to gain a second to catch his breath while still mustering something of a defense, the quartermaster dances to the side, a booted foot lashing out to kick his recently abandoned table into the gut of the man trying to squeeze past it.

Despite the hope Fin harbors at disabling the fellow, Caldwell is a large man and the cushioning about his belly combined with his own responsiveness keeps the table from doing much but knocking him temporarily into the wall. Desperate act though it may be, Fin's action elicits a bellow from Kidane.

"Stay back! He's all mine." and true to his word, the muscular black man presses Fin with another downward swing of his cutlass, aiming straight for the quartermaster's skull.

Bloody hell, Fin rumbles inwardly, Ye fat b@$^@$d!


There's little time for anything else but the thought and a quick breath, though, as a yowling Kidane chops his saber down in hopes of permanently parting Crowe's hair and the skull beneath. Driven by that breath, Fin attempts to spin away from the attack and, perhaps put a bit of space between them, if only for an instant. The air whistles with Kidane's blade cutting through it, a few strands of Fin's hair left floating where they had been sheared from his head as he spun away.

Bellowing in rage, the African draws up and holds his sword before him. "There's nowhere to go, Fin. Why put yer death off any longer?"

"Heh," Fin spits at the big man's feet and grins defiantly in his face, "Never could beat me down an' keep me there as a boy, Kidane. An' I'll be bloody-well f!@#$d if I stay down fer ye now!"

The quartermaster's lips tighten across his teeth even as his fingers tighten around the hilts of his blades, but rather than a widening of his smile, a shrill whistle is coaxed out on Fin's next breath... at its height, Fin springs forward and brings his cutlass to bear in a furious upward slash. The whistle, he hopes, will be recognized by the Dog's crew in the commons room below. The situation is dire enough having to face off against one as dangerous as Temesgen Kidane and Fin doesn't desire having to tackle the other five alone.

"I'll no' be havin' trouble keepin' ya down when I cast yer bones t' rest in Davy Jones' Locker!" Kidane hisses, ignoring the whistle and bracing to meet the attack.

Screeching, the blades meet once again. This time, Fin's runs down the length of his opponent's quickly as though greased, bounces off the basket and jumps up to leave a shallow gash across the exposed flesh of Temesgen's deltoid causing the black man's eyes to widen in surprise and pain.

Whether from that surprise or the fact that sweat and blood is now playing a part in the logistics of things, Kidane's attempt to lop off Crowe's head as a response is high, making it so that the other man barely needs to move in order to avoid the blow.

Kidane's attack blows by with scarce the breeze to flutter a sail and Fin can't help but let his grin shift from defiant to taunting. "Ye've gotten old, ye shark-eyed tub," he taunts, the arm holding his cutlass flexing a bit, "an' I've learnt more'n a bit since las' we met. Why put yer death off any longer?"

Temesgen's followers hiss and call out in dismay but make no move to further invade the combatants' space. Over the heads of his enemies, Fin can see that the entrance to the balcony is packed with curious bystanders, but the Dog's crewmen have yet to appear.

Even as he spits the African's words back at him, Fin feints with his cutlass but the true attack comes in the form of the point of his dirk stabbing through the space between them in search of Kidane's throat.

Fired up, Temesgen reads the incoming attack better than he has any other up to this point and ducks past the fient to knock the dagger aside. Jerking back from the impact of blades, the big man rolls his wrists and directs the cutting edge of his weapon inside Fin's arms towards his body.

Somewhat surprised (but not horribly) by Kidane's ability to avoid his attack, Fin smirks, let's his gaze briefly ascertain the position of his opponent's net of followers, and, as Kidane's blade swings in, takes a quick step to the right to dodge the blow entirely.

Placing the banister at his back, Fin can see that the rest of the man's crew are still holding their position while nervously gripping their weapons. A quick glance shows that the smaller fellow to Temesgen's right has his hand on the grip of a pistol and there's still no sign of the Dog's crew, though Fin can't be sure they could break through the press of the crowd peering through the balcony door even if they are trying.

A low chuckle rumbles in Fin's chest as his storm-hued gaze quickly sweeps the men surrounding him. "Are ye done, Temesgen?" he asks, his eyes coming back to Kidane, once more. He inclines his head faintly to indicate the man fingering his flintlock; "Yer friends seem ta think so..."

Crowe lunges forward, following his words with fresh action, his full strength behind the latest swing of his cutlass.

Distracting Kidane just enough with his comment about the potential for interference, Fin's move bypasses the African's defenses altogether and leaves a bloody slice from his upper right pectoral to his lower left ribs. Kidane staggers back into the chair and table, but manages to retain his footing, lashing out instinctively with his own sword!

Again, his response is weak and doesn't even threaten to invade Fin's space.

"Ye c'n walk away, Kidane," Crowe growls, taking a slow step forward in the wake of another whiffed attack, "Leave me an' mine be an' live th' rest o' yer miserable life..." His fingers flex around the hilt of his cutlass, again, and the savage smile returns to his face; "Or we c'n finish this an' you an' yer men c'n all die right here 'midst the food scraps an' bird shyte."

Lifting his cutlass and leveling it at the African for emphasis, the smile on Fin's rugged face breaks into a ruthless full grin, "F$!k... who'm I kiddin'!" And he hacks purposefully at the large man's neck.

Through his pain, the fiercely proud black man narrows his eyes to respond defiantly to his would be prey's offer. In the next moment those same orbs fly wide open. He's too slow to raise his weapon but does manage to arch backward enough to move his neck out of harm's way. Mercy does not smile on the slaver this time and Fin's sharp steel slices through Kidane's collar bone, cutting away the flesh of his chest and opens his stomach to the humid Caribbean air. Left hand gripping his guts to hold in the spilling strands of intestine, the dying man coughs up a bit of white spittle.

Findlay Crowe, once a slave boy and now a much different man, spits again at Kidane's feet as the giant of an African tries desperately to hold in his guts... "Took ye longer ta die than LeRoux," he sneers, watching the man slide down the table's edge, "I'll give ye that...."

Temesgen Kidane loses the strength in his legs and collapses backwards onto the table. His momentum and weight push the furniture aside and deposit him on the floor. Mouth agape, he blinks in astonishment at the one time boy slave. A slow smile plays across his lips followed by a low chuckle that fades as his eyes roll back up into his head and he succumbs to his wounds.

Fin's cold gaze lingers on his long-hated foe for a moment, then flits up to the nearest of Kidane's cohorts... and purposefully, thereafter, to each of the others in turn... "Anyone else wanna kill me, today?" he demands.

The men, however, are staring at the monstrous Temesgen Kidane lying in his sticky pool of blood, chest slowly expanding, entrails spilling out over his hand and forearm, with horror and shock. The crowd, too, is silent and then the quartermaster hears the calls.

"Fin! Ya there?"

"Quartermaster!"

"Move aside, I say!"

Glancing past the frozen men, Crowe spots a jostling of the people and Emanuel breaks through looking somehow both frustrated and concerned. Behind him, Aleksi and Zec stumble onto the balcony.

"Sir?" Emanuel queries with raised eyebrows while immediately assessing that his quartermaster is in a predicament. All three of the Dog's crew have hands on sword hilts and both Emanuel and Aleksi Rautio have their other hand on pistols at their waists.

(OOC: Time is roughly 12:03 PM.)

----------------------------------------------------
Tuesday, June 3rd, 1670 a.d., Tortuga Bay Settlement (Ile de la Tortue), Docks, 1:45 P.M.

"P-p-p-p-please, no," the dandy stammers, tears seeping from his eyes.

Placing the tip of her sword against stomach, Maggie looks him in the eyes and presses into his abdomen. "I #$%$@# hate when ^%&#%$@ @#*&^%$## like you think tha' jus' because I'm a woman, I can't %$^&@$* kill ya."

Gasping in pain, all the city official can do is watch as her blade slides deeper and deeper into his belly until it protrudes from his back. Coughing up blood, he is barely able to keep his head upright and his eyes drift from his mortal wound to the woman feeding his belly two feet of steel. Maggie is unclear whether he actually realizes his mistake as the light fades from his eyes and his head lolls to the side.

Yanking her sword free, Hellfire Maggie Cole looks up from behind the strands of red hair caught on the sweat of her brow and cheek. The shot is likely what drew the attention of the crowd, the girlish scream of the soon to be dead aristocrat could have filled it out, and now the Dog's first mate finds herself the subject of many different eyes and a realization strikes her. Oh %^#^, she finds herself thinking. Anna isn't gonna like this.

--------------

People are rushing. Some towards the docks--these appear to quite solely consist of military types--others--most--are running quite quickly away from the docks or selling shelter in nearby buildings. This is the scene that greets Cracker when he exists the tavern. The docks being his primary destination, and the concern about his new feeling concerning this port settlement, it behooves William to proceed with an additional measure of caution.

----------------

Shark Tooth can not believe his eye and for the life of him cannot fathom how types address the situation before him. Maggie "Hellfire" Cole is kneeling beside two bodies that she has apparently just made dead. The shot that had moments before drawn his attention away from the impossible task he'd been set to seemed to him to have originated with her especially considering the fact that she is still holding her flintlock and blood is not only painting the sands she is kneeling in but it is also caressing her short blade.

Chaos erupts around the surly sailor breaking him from his considerations. Dockhands rush for cover, ladies of the night run with skirts swirling about their legs, and sailors still aboard their ships draw up to the rails with caution and a willingness to protect their vessels if need be. Realization dawns on his foggy mind and even before he comprehends what he's doing, Wiley finds himself running at full tilt towards the murdered people and his first mate.

Thundering down the planks and making quite the drumming, Shark Tooth barely manages to avoid colliding with some hands mobbing in the opposite direction.

"Out o' me way, swabs!" Bellowing, he swats them aside the best he can at the same time as he yanks his pistol free and continues his rushing on.

Slimmed eyes, still filled with fire, fly about the scene unfolding about her with calculating and combat experienced wisdom. Maggie places the positions of the nearest armed sailors aboard the ship some thirty meters off. She recognizes those on the docks even closer who have also recognized where the potential threat originated. Twenty meters away at most. Then there's the man running towards her, Is there time to reload before he reaches--$&^*#%^ he'll! That's Shark Tooth.


Gliding gracefully to her booted feet, Maggie shoves the flintlock back into her brace.

"What ‘ave ya bloody done?" Shark Tooth barks irreverently whilst sliding to a halt in front of her.

"Don't you %$*&!^& forget herself, ya daft bastard," she fumes, leveling her murder weapon before his face. "The pompous ass pout it on his %$^*&^% self."

"Capt'n Cole--" Wiley coughs around his swollen lips.

"Is not bloody here," Maggie growls. "An' we shouldn' waste no more %$# $*^$ $%&^##% time here neither. So, stop standing there like a ^%&^%#÷ fool an' move!"

-----------------------

Acting with due caution, Cracker proceeds towards the commotion. Ahead of him run two patrols of blue jacket soldiers making a total of eight. The distance between them and their hurried pace and him and his purposefully cautious gait grows rapidly. As near as the boatson can guess, he's still a good distance from the docks. Unsure of the reason for the commotion, Wiley is left to his imagination concerning the ruckus.

(OOC: Time is roughly 1:47 PM)


Posted on 2018-01-04 at 23:33:51.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: Fin needs to make a counter action.


You did!

Posted on 2018-01-04 at 14:15:39.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: Oops!


My bad. I forgot to switch the map. Should be fixed.

Posted on 2018-01-03 at 20:14:42.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: You are correct, sir!


If you click on your character token you'll have a bunch of roll options appear at the top of the screen. You'll just have to click on the Cutlass (or whatever the weapon is) and it will prompt you for a modifier. You don't need to put on in unless I tell you because the algorithms I set up already account for both current modifiers, skills, and exploding 10's. It will prompt you to click on the token you're directing the attack at and once you do, it will present the results of your rolls in the Chat. Keep in mind your MOVE when you place your token in range of the attack.

Posted on 2018-01-03 at 16:15:06.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: Excellentay... That's Italian for Huzzah!


So, looks like Eol and I get to use roll20.net for some combat!

This is how we'll work through the combat, Eol, my friend. We shall use the chat feature in roll20. I've set up the map and added the tokens. You'll have control of your token and we'll go turn by turn. I'll leave instructions in the chat and every roll you make you need to clarify to me what the roll was for, or how Fin is attempting to conclude the action. That way, when I write up the combat, I can include your flare.

FYI - I rolled initiatives already and Fin is first (exploding 10... Excellenaty!)

Posted on 2018-01-03 at 15:18:09.
Edited on 2018-01-03 at 15:43:12 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: Thanks for your patience...


I hope everyone had a wonderful Holiday Season and Happy New Year!

I've moved the story along. Altaira, hopefully you return. That fight was quick and sudden, but Maggie now has a bit of a situation on her hands.

Goncalvo seems to have been "marked," Fin has a decision to make concerning his "honor," and the only one who seems to have made some positive progress is Cracker.

Looking forward to the next round of posts.

Posted on 2018-01-01 at 21:30:29.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon
Subject: Tuesday, June 3rd, 1670 a.d., Tortuga Bay Settlement (Ile de la Tortue), roughly 5:40 P.M.; Beach


Goncalvo is enjoying the attention lavished upon him by the woman. There was no doubt that she is well versed in certain "skills". Despite her ministrations, he is able to catch a glimpse of the ones who lurk in the alley running to get ahead of them obviously set on arriving at the inn before the newly acquainted couple. Reaching down he removes a shoe and makes a show of removing a stone, but in fact, he simply wants to give the others a larger head start. Replacing his shoe, he places his hand on the lady's arm and steers her in the direction of the launch.

"Come quickly," he instructs. "I have no desire to meet those men and can provide a safe shelter for you if you wish. Move quickly if you agree or we part ways now."

Pulling away, the petite woman furrows her brow, "What are you saying? You'll protect me? Forever? On board a ship filled with sailors? Or what? Put me up as your mistress in your wife's home?" Spitting at Goncalvo's feet, she sneers. "My fairy tale knight on a white horse?"

Stepping back, she points at him, "We will watch for you, White Knight. We will watch for you."

Spinning, she runs back towards the city, her ragged skirts flying out behind her as she holds them up above her knees.

(OOC: Next move,)

(OOC: Time is roughly 5:42 PM)

------------------------------------------------------------------

Tuesday, June 3rd, 1670 a.d., Tortuga Bay Settlement (Ile de la Tortue), roughly 12:01 P.M..; The Rub of Del Monte

This is Kidane in all of his brutal glory.

"Hm," Crowe murmurs (or, perhaps, growls) around a mouthful of sop-bread as he assesses the shark-eyed African, Th' more things change, he muses, not for the first time today, as he swallows that last morsel and pushes the plate away, As he wipes his mouth on his sleeve, memories of beatings he had suffered at Kidane's hands when he was a boy flood through Fin; every scar and fracture left by the man veritable burned with recollection, stoking the coals of his festering, deep-seeded hatred for Temesgen Kidane into a roaring furnace,

Bare chested with a bandolier being the only accouterment to break up the sleekness of his sweaty black skin, Kidane wears a pair of dark brown wool pants tucked into knee-high Oriental boots of sand-colored cloth. A large dirk rests on his right hip while a heavy cutlass hangs from his left. There are two flintlock pistols sheathed in the bandolier at his chest and another knife in his right boot. Aside from the huge ivory gauges in his ears, and two oversized gold rings, he wears no other decoration.

Kidane is not alone. Pausing only to expertly assess the situation on the balcony, LeRoux's right hand man immediately strides towards Fin's table while his five fellows hang back a little.

,As he gets to his feet, Crowe's arm falls away from his mouth to reveal what might be described as an almost predatory smile. His other hand pulls a pistol from his sash and, as he reaches his full height, he thumbs back the lock, extends his arm, and aims the weapon purposefully between the black man's eyes. "Tha'll be far enough, ye poxy f**k," he rumbles past a savagely calm sneer.

Kidane's upper lip curls away in a feral snarl and with a jarring step he halts.

"Scuttlebutt has it yer lookin' ta kill me, Kidane," Fin continues, his storm-hued gaze ticks meaningfully to the African's cronies, "Don' think ye c'n do it yerself, then?"

"Yer death be somet'ing we've all been lookin' forward to, Crowe," Kidane growls, "but it is I who will kill you this day, or are you such a coward that you dare not face me as a man?" Slowly, methodically, as if to drive a point home, Temesgen Kidane places his right hand on the hilt of his saber.

(OOC: Fin's choice,)


(OOC: Time is roughly 12:03 PM.)

----------------------------------------------------
Tuesday, June 3rd, 1670 a.d., Tortuga Bay Settlement (Ile de la Tortue), Docks, 1:44 P.M.

"Be a good lass," the soldier shoulders his rifle and steps forward with his left hand outstretched. "An' give me over those blades and pistol, huh?"

"Aye," Maggie smiles thinly, "Here be my weapons."

Smooth like silk sheets, Hellfire Maggie Cole draws her pistol, levels it at the soldier, and fires. Shock washes the man's sweaty and dirty features upon realizing that he's been shot. But Maggie isn't waiting to see the results. Lips thinning and using the element of surprise she's managed, Maggie grips her right-sided shortsword with her left hand, takes a step forward and in another fluid motion, unsheathes her sword and slashes across the gentleman's chest.

Ashen faced, the soldier blinks and looks down at his left arm where it dangles uselessly on a few strands of meat while draining blood onto the sand around his boot. He has just a moment, perhaps even half another blink of his eyes, before the realization of his injury registers and the strength in his legs gives out. Collapsing into the bloody mud, the soldier's face splashes in his own fluids.

A high pitched scream emits from the fop's mouth. Wide-eyed, he stumbles away from the dangerous woman and, unable to keep his footing in the sand, falls to his buttocks and momentum carries him right onto his tails and back.

Advancing menacingly, Hellfire Maggie sniffs, "Should'a left me the $@^^ alone." As he scrambles backward, his blood flowing from his chest wound, the pirate lady drops to her left knee.

"P-p-p-p-please, no," the dandy stammers, tears seeping from his eyes.

Placing the tip of her sword against stomach, Maggie looks him in the eyes and presses into his abdomen. "I #$%$@# hate when ^%&#%$@ @#*&^%$## like you think tha' jus' because I'm a woman, I can't %$^&@$* kill ya."

Gasping in pain, all the city official can do is watch as her blade slides deeper and deeper into his belly until it protrudes from his back. Coughing up blood, he is barely able to keep his head upright and his eyes drift from his mortal wound to the woman feeding his belly two feet of steel. Maggie is unclear whether he actually realizes his mistake as the light fades from his eyes and his head lolls to the side.

Yanking her sword free, Hellfire Maggie Cole looks up from behind the strands of red hair caught on the sweat of her brow and cheek. The shot is likely what drew the attention of the crowd, the girlish scream of the soon to be dead aristocrat could have filled it out, and now the Dog's first mate finds herself the subject of many different eyes and a realization strikes her. Oh %^#^, she finds herself thinking. Anna isn't gonna like this.

(OOC: Time is approximately 1:45 PM.)

----------------------------------------------------
Tuesday, June 3rd, 1670 a.d., Tortuga Bay Settlement (Ile de la Tortue), Docks, 1:35 P.M.

"Barkeep!" Fulvio hiccups. "Another!"

Cracker allows the other to lean back quietly without pressing since he clearly wants to do so. After drinking a little (while seeming to drink a lot) Cracker stumbles out the words, "I needs be goin' for now." He stands from his stool at the bar and in so doing, steps around the man in the middle. He flips a coin on the bar and says, "Have one on me boys. I 'preciate the company." Glancing towards the one who had spoken, who is well into his cups, he asks quietly, "Where?"

"Huh?" The long-faced individual looks around with bleary eyes and states in a too loud voice, "What? Oh. Yes. Ol' Gory Tremane—He don' like t' go too far from the Minnow. He'll mos' like be in a tavern near the ship."

Cracker nods slightly to the man who had spoken. While the boatswain's intent had been for the whole conversation to take place behind the back of the other sailor, the volume of the other's response countered his efforts. Curly glares at his companion and then tosses Cracker an unreadable stare before turning back to his relaxation.

William lifts his mug one more time and offers a quiet, "To the sea!" cheer to them both. Finishing his drink, he heads out of the tavern and back towards the place he is to meet the First Mate, wondering about the usefulness of what he has learned.

(OOC: Time is approximately 1:40 PM.)


Posted on 2018-01-01 at 21:28:04.

Topic: Merry Christmas to the Inn + Innmates
Subject: This...


Hear! Hear!

Posted on 2017-12-28 at 22:35:33.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A Night City Adventure
Subject: The Streets | Night City Integrate | Midcity | UrbanZone - March 8th, Day 2 (Saturday), 2:30 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)

Wind whips coats about and sends stinging, ice cold rain into the party's exposed skin. With the air quality warning in effect, combat masks and air filters are affixed the moment the edgerunners exit Hightower's and make their way down the stairs to the street level.

Pushing through the door, Vegas leads, confident and full of his usual attitude. Carried upon the winds and accenting the biting rain are angry voices just off to the right. Vegas glances that way but then tugs his long coat about him and turns to the left, striding towards the nearest bus stop.

Casino is next through the door and his attention is also drawn by the noise. Crowds are not uncommon, especially in the business sectors of the City, but this one is not moving. This crowd is gathered and seem to centralize their attention on whatever or whomever is in the center. Fists shoot into the air and foul language is draped across the mob like Holiday ornaments on a tree, but for the life of him, the rugged solo cannot see what has their attention.

"If we take the Five, we'll go straight past a iQuality Outlet," Fixer almost runs into the solo's back as he follows the pair of gunmen through the door with his eyes glued to his agent. Stepping to Casino's left, he narrowly avoids the collision and looks up a bit irritatedly to find out what all the ruckus is about. Peering through the slivers between his lashes and the dark lenses of his mirrorshades, the techie surveys the crowd and shakes his head in disgust. "Seen this sh*t before," he mutters. "Nothing good comes of it."

"What's going on?" Bloodbank asks innocently while staring at the frothing gathering.

Echo follows Bloodbank out of the door, stops and looks at the angry crowd, and gives an involuntary shudder she hopes no one has seen. She doesn't like crowds much, much less angry ones. She adjusts her coat to protect against the stinging rain and hopes they're headed opposite of the crowd. She exhales a sigh of relief when Casino turns to them.

With a quick glance at Vegas' back, Casino turns to the rest, "Whatever it is, it's none of our concern, so let's just keep walking."

Nodding agreement, Echo follows Casino quickly putting as much distance between her and the crowd as possible. She silently hoped this stakeout would give some information as to the whereabouts of the kid. The city may have been her life once, but it is no longer. All she wants is to find the kid, preferably alive, get paid, and clear her name. Everything else is gravy. The less time she spends in the city, the better.

Though Ghlahn sees the commotion, he can care less about the cause of it. So long as it isn't a member of his Altcult in the center of it, and the angry mob isn't angry with them, he's just as content to move along as the rest of the party seem to be.

"There's a bus stop just around the corner," Vegas glances back over his shoulder. "We'll catch the Five there. We've got about twenty-minutes until it arrives."

For a moment the rain lessens. Overhead, an advertising dirigible blares it's message as the holographic image of celebrity Evan Poole holds up a new bracer mod. I've found myself in many situations where I could have used this. Trust me when I say, you'll not regret adding this sweet mod by Trauma Team, Inc. to your toolkit. Another voice takes over, The Constant Life Stream splice connects directly to your neural net and sends a perpetual feed of your vitals straight to your agent. From there, the Trauma Team app receives the data and as soon as your vitals elevate, your Trauma Team specialists are notified and placed at the ready. The splice is smart enough to learn your exercise rhythms so as not to mistake your everyday routine for danger eliminating 78.5% of all false alarms! Smiling, Evan Poole tilts his head and looks admonishingly at the carbon based life forms below. Trust me. It's worth the money.

Durable and made of clear strengthened plex-glass, the bus stop consists of a covered waiting area that allows the occupants relief from the weather. Open only on the front face, the construct plays a constant stream of advertising across the lower panels while presenting bus delays and schedules in the clear upper panels with a live feed of the city map and small green blips representing the location of each bus.

Currently full, waiting travelers pill out from the protected confines of the three sided den and mill about in the rain. Various designer styles stand out amongst those who are less thrifty, but most people wear Wall-to-Wall Mart or On Target brands. No matter the attire, all wear their protective air filtration masks, and only a few of these aren't designer colors, fitted with LED lighting of various colors, or sculpted in geometric shapes and masks depicting cartoon characters of popular imagery. Air and more traditional umbrellas fight to keep their owners dry in an exhausting battle against the elements, some with more LED lights spilling down over the user and casting them in dramatic hues.

Gathering up near the back of the crowd, the edgerunners stuff hands in pockets and hunch shoulders in a futile attempt to keep the acidic rains from pouring down their collars and seeping through their clothing. Five minutes into the wait and Vegas motions everyone close.

"I've just heard from Starlight," he says in a low tone barely perceptible above the roaring engines of passing traffic, coughing human beings, and rainfall. Those with the enhanced audio cybernetics are grateful for the enhancement as he looks up from his phone and meets their eyes. "Starlight is about to undergo surgery. She's opted for a proxy to join us on this run. A vetted chap by the name of Cred Stick Charlie, it would seem. Her message states that he'll be contacting us to meet up and that he's her eyes and ears on this gig. I don't think she's too happy with this performance, gatos."

(OOC: Responses as you feel the need.)

Just then, Vegas' agent bleeps and draws his attention back to the screen. "That's this Cred Stick Charlie," he confirms. "Wants to know where to meet up."

"Can he meet us at the iQuality Outlet?" Bloodbank asks from behind the cracked skull combat mask he wears.

"I'll find out," Vegas replies through his skinmask. Typing a reply, he waits. Shortly thereafter, he looks up. "If the bus stays on schedule we'd have to wait for about a half-hour at the outlet for him to meet us. Any reason we shouldn't? Seeing we don't have the lay of the land at the mallplex yet, it'll be the easiest place to team up."

(OOC: Thoughts?)

With the plan in hand, the time comes to purchase tickets. The cost is $8 NCDs per person (OOC: Please update your character sheets) and with tickets in hand the group crowds onto the bus once it arrives.

Warm, odorous, crammed in like sardines, this is certainly not the most glamorous way to travel. People are careful not to meet the eyes of the obviously armed Edgers. There's no hiding the long Nomad .44s and when pressed up against, handguns and submachine guns have a recognizable feel. Long past are the times when people report every weapon carrying Edgerunner to the police. It usually takes a firefight breaking out to do so these days. All the same, the layman remains uncomfortable around armed individuals and their level of anxiety adds to the tension of the trip.

iQuality resides in a two level storefront location with two separate street level entrances; one at each end of the wide windows displaying digital, projected ads of store specials. Security consists of a Samurai construct at each door, just inside but readily visible. These spectacular silver warriors mean that iQuality has employed at least one wardriver to watch out against thieves and vandals. Additional security is likely present, but hidden from immediate view.

"I've told Cred Stick Charlie to meet us at the communications department," Vegas states dryly as he adjusts his coat against the weather's onslaught as the group departs the bus. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one is paying too close attention to them from the city transport, he motions towards the store with a sweeping gesture. "Shall we?"

Bright white LED lights illuminate the interior with ferocious unforgiving detail. Aisle height is only five feet leaving plenty of room for the security cameras (both visible and hidden) to see down each row with a watchful eye. Autofacs line the outermost walls allowing individuals to purchase customized materials and goods, but the pre packed, generic items are all available down the aisles. In the middle of the store, a pair of escalators take people up to and down from the second floor. Payment is made through scanning items with your agent, or utilizing the credchip readers at the head of each aisle.

Arriving at the communications aisle, the team waits for Fixer to gather the components he needs to resolve their communications issues, and the arrival of Cred Stick Charlie.

(OOC: I'm leaving the introduction of Luther open so Espatier can write out his descriptions, etc Cred Stick Charlie will arrive at roughly 4:10 PM. Nomad, I'll send you a PM with options for the communications solution and you can play out how you want to handle it in your post.)

(OOC : Time is 3:40 PM)


Posted on 2017-12-28 at 17:22:58.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: As do I...


Looking forward to the post.

Posted on 2017-12-22 at 12:30:41.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Thank you!


All right, I appreciate the posts. As I already posted for Fixer coming out the door, I won't expect a follow-up post from Nomad (you're welcome to if you want, though), Espatier will also wait for my next post (most likely, as I'll be introducing his character in it), which leaves Keeper being the only one who hasn't posted a continuance.

Seeing how Christmas and New Years is just around the corner, please let me know if you'd rather wait until after the Holidays to continue or if you'd like to just move forward.

Posted on 2017-12-22 at 12:29:49.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: I've not heard from her...


I've reached out every way I can, so I'll be moving the game forward without her input.

Posted on 2017-12-22 at 10:38:34.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: We're a friendly group of Meatbags...


You'll have the support you need and I, too, hope this will be a righteous experience for you.

Posted on 2017-12-14 at 11:08:09.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Righteous.


And groovy.

Posted on 2017-12-14 at 11:06:31.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: AWOL


Altaira seems to have gone and dropped herself off the face of the earth for the time being. I've reached out to her for my games through PMs on two sites. Time to send an email, I think.

Posted on 2017-12-13 at 14:18:21.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: If Wyatt were in a playful mood...


He'd reply, "Are you talking to me? Do I know you?"



Posted on 2017-12-12 at 17:38:43.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: Awesome!


OK... Nomad, check your PM. I sent you a lengthy message about Fixer. I think the only thing I left out was what he focuses on. Think of him as the dystopian Scotty from Star Trek as far as his function in the group is concerned.

Espatier, I also sent you a PM. We can continue working out the details of your character sheet, but in the meantime, you're free to post. I've also sent you an invitation to roll20.

I once spent a couple of weeks on tour traveling the U.S. promoting a game that the company I worked for developed. Got to visit multiple game shops in each state. I purchased every CyberPunk book I could get my hands on. Had lunch with Mike Pondsmith at a convention and talked with him about the game as well. Though I love what he did with it, I've made plenty of house rules and adjustments, so be aware. If you have questions, just ask.

Tann, that's awesome. Glad you got things fixed. Now, do yourself a favor and use Google Drive.

Now, as for the game's progress... I've got a post from Tann but need one from the rest of you!

Posted on 2017-12-12 at 17:29:48.

Topic: Cyberpunk - Flesh & Blood Recruitment
Subject: All right, then...


For the time being, recruiting is closed. Got the players I need to keep the game going.

Posted on 2017-12-12 at 17:28:43.

Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: I have received it!


And responded! Sorry for the delay there. I've added both you and Nomad D2 to the game. Nomad will be taking over Fixer and Espatier will be joining with one of his characters from a game he never got to play. I'll work that character in when Espatier is ready.

Posted on 2017-12-06 at 18:54:06.

Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: I completely understand...


Just waiting on a post from Altaira and we can continue.

Posted on 2017-12-06 at 18:47:59.

 


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