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Topic: Genesis Q&A
Subject: He found the statue.
He's probably staring at it in awe.
Posted on 2017-07-10 at 10:18:47.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Curse them!
My preferred host has gone to costing an arm and a leg as well. Really disappointing. So, I've taken to wordpress.org and set up a free WordPress site, upload the media files, and then grab the URL to share.
Posted on 2017-07-10 at 10:18:05.
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: *shrugs*
I'm wondering the same thing.
Posted on 2017-07-09 at 14:26:02.
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Topic: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
Subject: Bring Me That Horizon Q&A
The game is rules-based, but I'm the one who has to worry about the rules as they are of my own concoction. I call the system Reality Bites, so that might give you an idea as to how different it is from the other systems out there. A big hint is that you don't have hit points, you can be killed by a dagger to the gut, and some other very real nasty things can happen if you aren't careful with your character's actions. So, play smart.
Bring Me That Horizon
Historical Fiction: Piracy and High Seas Adventure.
The Sun Dog
Schooner
The Sun Dog's Flag
Sun Dog Decks
Sun Dog Cutaway
- Captain - Anastasia "Anna" Cole - Player: NPC
- First Mate - Margery "Maggie" or "Maggie Hellfire" Cole - Player: Lady Dark
- Quartermaster - Findlay "Fin" Crowe - Player: Eol
- Sailing Master - Goncalvo Goncallves d'Gafanha da Nazare - Keeper of Dragons
- Gunner(s) - Wylie "Shark Tooth" Stryker - NPC
- Boatswain - William "Cracker" Wiley - Nomad D2
- Surgeon - Ebenezer Hughes - Player: NPC
- Carpenter - Blaize Campbell - Player: NPC
- Cabin Boy - Salazar - Player: NPC
Currency: Gold and silver mostly. Ratio of 1:15.
Further breakdown of currency using the British coin system of the time:
- 2 farthings = 1 half penny
- 4 farthings = 1 penny designated as #d (e.g. 2d = 2 pennies)
- 12 pennies = 1 shilling designated as #s (e.g. 2s = 2 shillings or 2 silver)
- 5 shillings = 1 crown designated as #c
- 4 crowns = 1 pound sterling designated as #£ (sovereign)
- 21 shillings = 1 guinea designated as #g which is also 1 gold
Ship's Cannons
Each cannon is manned by two gunners, four sailors, and one artillery officers, or chief gunner, as it were. The right gunner primes the piece and loads it with powder, while the left gunner fetches the powder from the magazine and keeps the cannon ready to fire at the chief gunner's command. Three sailors stand on each side of the cannon, to ram and sponge the cannon, and hold the lantern and ladle. The final sailor on the left is charged with providing 50 bullets.
Prior to loading, the cannon is well cleaned with a sponge to remove all sparks, filth, and dirt. The powder is added, followed by a wad of paper or hay, and the ball is thrown in. After ramming the cannon, it is aimed with the elevation set using a quadrant and a plummet. At 45 degrees the ball has the utmost range—about ten times the gun's level range. Any angle above the horizontal line is called random-shot. The chief gunner has to ensure the cannon is diligently served. Water is available to dip the sponges in and cool the pieces every ten or twelve rounds fired.
Cannon Shot
Round shot or solid shot or a cannonball or simply ball:
A solid spherical projectile made, in early times, from dressed stone but, by the 17th century, from iron. The most accurate projectile that could be fired by a smooth-bore cannon, used to batter the wooden hulls of opposing ships, forts, or fixed emplacements, and as a long-range anti-personnel weapon.
Chain shot or Split shot: Two sub-caliber round shot (a good deal smaller than the bore of the barrel) linked by a length of chain or a solid bar, and used to slash through the rigging and sails of an enemy ship so that it could no longer maneuver. It is inaccurate and only used at close range. Two-headed bullets (angels) are similar but made of two halves of a ball rather than two balls.
Canister shot: An anti-personnel projectile which includes many small iron round shot or lead musket balls in a metal can, which break up when fired, scattering the shot throughout the enemy personnel, like a large shotgun.
Shell: An explosive anti-materiel and counter-battery projectile, of iron with a cavity packed with a high explosive bursting charge of powder used to destroy enemy wagons, breastworks, or opposing artillery. Two types of fuses are used...
...impact fuses that detonated the bursting charge by percussion, and...
... a time fuse cut to length measured in seconds and ignited by flame from the propellant charge.
Grapeshot: An anti-personnel weapon, similar to canister shot, but with the shot being contained in a canvas bag, and generally of a larger caliber. So called because of the resemblance of the clustered shot in the bag to a cluster of grapes on the vine. In one variation of this, the shot is held together by a coiled bar, and is spread by a fused charge in the same way as a shell. It is very effective against infantry, but its main shortcomings include very short range and ineffectiveness against infantry who have taken cover. Grapeshot is the starting point for the creation of shrapnel.
Carcass: An incendiary/antipersonnel projectile designed to burn fiercely and produce poisonous fumes. It is constructed of an iron frame bound with sack cloth and filled with various ingredients such as pitch, antimony, sulfur, saltpeter, tallow and Venetian turpentine. It is ignited by the cannon's propellant charge, bursting on impact with the target and releasing noxious fumes while setting fire to its surroundings. It is effectively an early chemical weapon as well as an incendiary and area denial weapon. The name is possibly a reference to the medieval practice of hurling dead animals from trebuchet as a form of biological warfare, or to the projectile's superficial resemblance to a human carcass.
Heated (or hot) shot: A process where a solid iron cannonball is heated red hot in a specially-designed wood- or coal-fired furnace and then is loaded in a muzzle-loading cannon, cushioned by a substantial thickness of wet wads, and is then fired while still red hot, at flammable targets with the intention of setting them on fire. This is a much advocated tactic (and many times a very successful one) for shore-based forts defending against attacks by wooden warships. The shot is carried on a specially designed iron barrow or two-man litter and, in the era of black-powder cannon charges contained in cloth bags, occasioned much fanfare and notice as it is conveyed to the cannon muzzle as the red-hot projectile would easily ignite any carelessly handled loose powder. Any reckless or somewhat dangerous individual who seemed to draw trouble to themselves and those around them was referred to as a "Hot Shot"
Spider Shot: Spider shot is a chain shot, but it has many chains instead of just one. It is not often used, despite its effectiveness against small ships and morale.
Posted on 2017-07-09 at 01:22:36.
Edited on 2018-02-08 at 18:56:37 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Genesis Q&A
Subject: Gone.
Elvis has left the building.
Posted on 2017-07-07 at 18:05:44.
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Topic: Bring Me That Horizon - Recruiting - Closed
Subject: Boatswain it is!
Congrats, Nomad. Looking forward to your character concept. Azazel, welcome to the game. I like the concept of Simple Jack as well. For the sake of assigning a role in board the Sun Dog, he'd be a boatswain as well. Though, other options for duties are possible as indicated in the PM. I've put the stamp of approvalo on Keeper's sailing master and Hammer's Master Gunner as well.
The Sun Dog is snapping up nicely.
Posted on 2017-07-07 at 00:19:07.
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Topic: Bring Me That Horizon - Recruiting - Closed
Subject: Hammer and Keeper
I received the headshot and necklace, Hammer. Looking forward to seeing the concept fleshed out.
Keeper, I'm not seeing rd he email. Did you send it to my Inn email address?
Posted on 2017-07-06 at 19:55:15.
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Topic: Genesis Q&A
Subject: Answer with another question...
I dare you!
Posted on 2017-07-06 at 16:38:05.
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Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Wyatt's involvement...
"You know Wolf," Eagle-Eye said, "I'm heading out to the north quad to put down some posts. Love to have you join me. We could catch up some - that is if the work you have on the ship can wait. Not like we get to see each other often now that we both living honest lives." He looked over to the captain, "On your okay, of course."
Captain Sung shrugs knowing full well that Wolf always completes his chores. "Jus' don't get dead."
Seeing no conflict with Wyatt Fenris turns to Eagle Eye.
"You know that sounds like a good idea, last time I was out and about on a wide open range, there were a dozen or so people trying to kill us. Captain, Sam, Ash, lady Jade, I guess I'll see you all tonight then."
Giving a look to the others for agreement he was not surprised when Sam spoke up.
"Yup. See ya tonight. Keep yer eyes t' th' sky, Wolfy; Sarafina ain't got but the one."
With a smile thrown the pilot's way Fenris moved out of the room behind Eagle Eye.
Posted on 2017-07-06 at 16:37:31.
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Topic: Bring Me That Horizon - Recruiting - Closed
Subject: Eol, I think she has your number...
It would seem to me that Altaira has you figured out, Eol, my old friend.
I am thoroughly enjoying the development of the characters thus far. I've updated the first post with information I have thus far. I am not giving out a lot of information on each character until I have full write ups. Then I'll determine what the rest of the crew would and would not know and deliver the appropriate information to y'all.
Posted on 2017-07-06 at 16:34:33.
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Topic: Bring Me That Horizon - Recruiting - Closed
Subject: Right!
Keeper has the role. Shark Tooth sounds promising, and I've already been receiving some thoughtful character construction from Altaira. Good beginning.
Posted on 2017-07-06 at 11:10:19.
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Topic: Genesis Q&A
Subject: I noticed that too, Hammer.
I thought it was a subtle message. My games are easy to play in. I only require one post per week.
Posted on 2017-07-06 at 10:47:19.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: Aneurysm forthcoming.
I've concentrated so hard I think I've given myself a bloody nose...
Posted on 2017-07-05 at 22:57:43.
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Topic: Bring Me That Horizon - Recruiting - Closed
Subject: It looks like...
First Mate - Altaira
First Mate had rank just below the Captain. He would take control of the ship if the Captain could not perform his duties any longer. Alas, most pirate ships usually did not have First Mates and the Quartermasters performed their duties, but in this case, a first mate ye have!
Quartermaster - Eol
After Captain, the most authority on a pirate ship is usually that held by the Quartermaster. As a Captain's right hand, he was in charge when the Captain was not around. He had the authority, and he could punish men for not obeying commands. The Quartermaster was also in charge of food and water supplies. In the case of this vessel, the Quartermaster will be the third in command and also responsible for outfitting munitions and ship owned weapons.
Sailing Master - Keeper of Dragons
Sailing Masters were officers in charge of navigation and piloting. It was a very hard job because charts in those days were usually inaccurate or nonexistent. Education was required and on non-pirate ships, it was a well-paid job. Many sailing masters were forced to join the pirates.
Gunner(s) - Hammer
Gunners were leaders of small groups of men who operated on the artillery. They watched for the safety of their men and usually aimed the cannons themselves.
It would take years of practice to become a good Gunner on a military ship. It was even harder on pirate ships because pirates rarely wanted to destroy other ships but rather to disable them. Just for one cannon to operate efficiently, four to six men were required to aim, fire, reset, swab and load. It was everything but an easy job. Also, coordination with other gunners was required.
To prevent commotion and random fire, usually the most experienced gunner was elected as a Master Gunner. He was the one who was giving orders when the captain was not around.
However, with all precautions, accidents still were an everyday thing. Canons could quickly overheat; they had excessive recoiling and people were working with powder (in dark or candle light).
Boatswain(s)
Boatswains were junior officers. They were people who supervised all activities on a ship. Depending on the size of the ship and crew, they could have one or several duties. Duties ranged from anchoring to naval provisions. They reported to the Quartermaster or the Captain.
Nomad can choose between the roles of Boatswain or Gunner, as there can be multiple gunners and boatswains, we can group up.
If any players wish to make a case to me for playing a surgeon, I'll listen and consider. For the time being I had planned on running the ship's surgeon as an NPC.
For those who have already selected roles, the time is now upon you to submit character concepts. The year is 1670. The ship will call Tortuga home port. The ship is called the Sun Dog.
Until the game is underway I'll keep this recruiting thread open.
Posted on 2017-07-05 at 22:55:31.
Edited on 2017-07-06 at 16:28:30 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Bring Me That Horizon - Recruiting - Closed
Subject: Awesomeness.
Women are welcome. Never seen Black Sails so I can't really answer that. I'm going to try to be historically accurate but that being said, there were some.female purates.
Posted on 2017-07-05 at 19:06:55.
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Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Replies...
"I'm up fer it," Dash grins, taking up the plate he'd put together moments ago, "Lemme deliver this grub ta Ma an' put on a clean shirt." He starts back for the ship, then, and claps Wyatt on the shoulder as he passes. "An' don't worry none bout me lookin' fer trouble, Cap. You an' me both know trouble finds me all on it's lonesome."
"Don' it, though?" Wyatt raises a sardonic eyebrow. "Hey, Sam! Ask Ma t' put together a list o' things she needs an' we'll see wha' we can scrounge up.
Turning back to the others, Sung continues the original train of thought, "Jade? Asher? Wolf? What 'bout you three?"
Posted on 2017-07-05 at 14:49:06.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: You never expect the Spanish Inquisition!
Trouble does indeed find Sam Dash all of its own accord.
Posted on 2017-07-05 at 14:45:55.
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Topic: Bring Me That Horizon - Recruiting - Closed
Subject: I'll be honest...
I kinda crafted the idea around at least having you, Eol, in the game. Knowing your pirate tendencies and all.
So, with Eol and Keeper, that's two. Any others?
Posted on 2017-07-05 at 14:42:19.
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Topic: Bring Me That Horizon - Recruiting - Closed
Subject: Bring Me That Horizon - Recruiting
Consider this thread me testing the waters and seeing if I have enough interested players to commit. The game is rules-based, but I'm the one who has to worry about the rules as they are of my own concoction. I call the system Reality Bites, so that might give you an idea as to how different it is from the other systems out there.
Premise
Historical Fiction: Piracy and High Seas Adventure.
I'm looking for players that can fill the following roles, and as much as possible can commit to see this through to the end with one post per week minimum.
The Sun Dog
Schooner
- Captain - Anastasia "Anna" Cole - Player: NPC
- First Mate - Margery "Maggie" or "Maggie Hellfire" Cole - Player: Altaira
- Quartermaster - Findlay "Fin" Crowe - Player: Eol
- Sailing Master - Goncalvo Goncallves d'Gafanha da Nazare - Keeper of Dragons
- Gunner(s) - Wylie "Shark Tooth" Stryker - Hammer
- Boatswain - NAME FORTHCOMING - Nomad
- Boatswain - Jack "Simple Jack" Reid - Azazyl
- Surgeon - Ebenezer Hughes - Player: NPC
- Carpenter - Blaize Campbell - Player: NPC
- Cabin Boy - Salazar - Player: NPC
Posted on 2017-07-04 at 18:54:03.
Edited on 2017-07-07 at 12:37:59 by Bromern Sal
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Topic: Genesis Q&A
Subject: It really is good to have the Gruggster back.
I've enjoyed reading the rounds. Looks fun.
Posted on 2017-07-04 at 18:40:02.
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Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: My brain is about to explode...
I'm concentrating so hard on the screen hoping that the FORCE or whatever (maybe Q) will make posts appear.
Posted on 2017-07-03 at 15:39:36.
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A CyberPunk Game
Subject: The post worked, Bannix.
I'm grateful for all of you who did post. I'm a little disappointed that I didn't see anything from bloodbankJR, but it is what it is.
Next game update will be Monday. Looking forward to seeing how you play things out.
Bannix, Fixer will find the door locked. It will be both a card reader locking mechanism.
Posted on 2017-07-03 at 15:38:06.
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Topic: Flesh & Blood - A Night City Adventure
Subject: Moving along...
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West 43875 St. 52 High -- The Bartholomew School Grounds and Sewage/Runoff Drainage System | Night City Integrate | High City | UrbanZone - Day 2 (Saturday), 4:06 AM 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)
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Ghlahn curses the rain and the sec-team's luck. Somehow he has managed to injure, but not kill, most of the first team. His experience tells him that nothing good comes of leaving breathing enemies. He needs to finish the job but now he has a greater concern. The second team has unleashed its dog. Shifting his focus, Ghlahn takes aim on the beast. He feels no regret killing the sec-team but he hates being forced to kill the dog. Once more, death seeks a dance partner as he depresses the trigger and feels the surge of killing power course into his shoulder.
Through his sight, the sniper watches the animal fold, twist, and tumble while spraying up a small wave of muddy water. His shot has taken the creature through the forehead, ending its life swiftly and painlessly.
* * * * *
"Is anyone hurt?" Bloodbank demands, no longer keeping a low voice. The medtech stands near the doorway weapon in hand his face unreadable behind the cracked skull visage of his combat mask.
Standing over the fallen dust of the security construct is a chrome samurai with glowing green eyes peering through its grimacing mempo, katana in hand. Blossom folds her bag and slings it over her shoulder as she rises from her crouch. "I'm fine," she says in a somewhat disappointed tone. "But we've made a lot of noise and I don't imagine we'll be sitting in calm waters for long."
Echo lowers her weapon and catches her breath, staring at the samurai Blossom created to finish the construct. Feeling embarrassed at her knee-jerk reaction that stemmed from surprise mixed with a healthy dose of fear, she turns to the little Asian.
"I wish I had known you could do that," she says to Blossom in a joking tone. "Then I wouldn't have tried so hard to make it Swiss cheese."
Straightening up and taking a long, steadying breath, Echo agrees with the netrunner, sheepishly apologizing. "Yeah, sorry about the noise, but it startled me, and I reacted with my gut. At least it ain't gonna attack anyone else."
Vegas tips his fedora towards the Asian beauty, then barks orders to the rest of the group.
"Time to Shine!" exclaims the Frank Sinatra look-alike. "Blossom will do her thing to get the info we need to complete this mission! Time for us all to do what we do best and earn our coin! Fan out and stay alert for anything or anyone who may try to stop Blossom from gaining access!"
Vegas quickly takes point where he can shoot any and all who would be marching down the hall to stop the unwanted invasion of the school records. Then, blowing a kiss to Blossom, the Dapper Solo adds, "Go for Broke!"
Echo moves to follow the lovestruck crooner into the hallway, standing vigilant and ready to make more noise if need be, but silently hoping her failure to keep calm wouldn't cost them.
"Uh," Blossom sticks her hip out and throws a thumb down the hall that runs behind and to the right of the receptionist's desk. "I kinda need to get into the security office in order to do my thing. Isn't it kinda thatta way?"
"We're too open here, anyway," Bloodbank observes motioning at all of the glass of the fishbowl admin office they've found themselves in.
Imagining the alarms blaring across every sec-team's comms, Blossom turns and starts running down the indicated hall, the rest of the team hot on her booted heels. Water droplets fly from her long, synth-leather armored coat, bright eyes flash from one door plate to another from behind heart-shaped sunglasses as she sprints past the assistant principal's office, then a counselor's, and another counselor's.
Sliding to a stop just past another door, the wardriver looks back at the group who had followed her down the hall and points at the door, mouthing, "This is it," silently in case there's a team waiting for them just inside.
It's been mere seconds since the construct attack. Seconds that the school's security could have been using to fortify their positions, including locking down the office. The chances of one or more security officers being present within the room is high, but there's no way to see inside. Meanwhile, outside Ghlahn has a choice to make in whether to go after the still healthy sec-team whose dog he's just eliminated, or the wounded team member dragging himself towards the building, and just how long is it until reinforcements arrive from IntCop and what will that look like?
From the rain soaked campus, the red-headed sniper can faintly hear the cries for help laced with pain from the man he's left alive but severely injured. Cries that so far haven't done anything to help him.
Posted on 2017-07-03 at 15:36:12.
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Topic: Genesis Q&A
Subject: I enjoyed the post!
And I have posted as well.
Posted on 2017-07-03 at 14:11:30.
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Topic: Prometheans: Genesis (The Reboot)
Subject: Introduction
Tuesday, July 4, 2017 - 13:05:10 GMT
"Take care of it," Afton orders with a tired aire, his steely blue-gray eyes focused on the programming hieroglyphics being displayed across the forty-eight inch monitor in front of him.
"They want you there, sir," the speakers embedded into the cushioning pillow of his light tan, leather-wrapped chair respond with a clearness that is usually reserved for people in close proximity.
"What they want and what they get are two very different things, Mr. Daughtry." Lazily dropping a technology-wrapped gloved hand to the light keyboard being projected on the smooth oak surface of the table in front of him, Afton corrects a database call with swift, decisive keystrokes.
"They aren't going to see it that way," Allen Daughtry sounds tired, a condition that his boss pays no attention to.
"I don't really care whether they do or not," the rebuke isn't angry or fettered by emotion. It is a fact stated in a succinct English accent. Narrowed eyes scan the remainder of the code before he strikes the enter key and settles back in his executive lounger. "I've better things to do with my time that sit in a courtroom defending Hunter's methods. I've every confidence in you and your team of highly-paid attorneys, Mr. Daughtry, to point out that the law has been broken and Hunter is designed to track down the perpetrators. My presence is neither needed, nor required, to facilitate a positive outcome."
The floor lurches a little and a red seat belt light flashes on overhead. A very pretty blonde woman wearing a full dark blue pants suit with a red tie and white blouse steps into view further down the cabin and uses her hands to help balance her against the turbulence as she approaches. "The captain says that we've about ten minutes of bumpy air, sir. Would you like anything before I buckle in?"
"No," Afton replies, smiling through his silver and black mustaches. "Thank you, Ann."
"Where are you?" Mr. Daughtry asks as Ann returns to the front of the plane.
"Somewhere over the continent of Africa, I believe," Afton replies offhandedly. "How many suits does this make, Mr. Daughtry?"
"Let's see, three hundred and forty six, sir."
"That's all?" A notice appears on his screen indicating that the program is ready to be compiled and served. Afton grants permission without a second thought. "It would seem that Hunter is in need of an update. The black hat community is starting to develop methods of avoidance."
"Either that, or your win to loss ratio is highly daunting," Allen suggests. "It's only been three months since your last update."
"Years, decades, maybe even centuries in the tech world, Mr. Daughtry." Bored with the spinning icon indicating a process underway, Afton Pembrook swipes the screen to the left and pulls up his email, accessing a report sent by his V.P. of Research and Development, Don Arring.
"That's why I stick with the Law," Daughtry remarks dryly. "There's only a few hundred new laws issued per jurisdiction every month that I need to keep up with."
"Hmmm," acknowledging the comment, Afton furrows his brow at the report he's now engrossed in. "Is there anything else on your docket, Mr. Daughtry?"
"No. That about sums it up, sir."
"Have a good day, then." The stated key words activate the computer's End Call protocol and the conversation ends leaving the billionaire alone in the luxurious cabin of his private jet. Alone with numbers he doesn't like.
Shaking his head, the middle-aged man rolls his shoulders back and runs both hands across his skull, further slicking back his already sleek, prematurely silver hair. A practical method for transferring Hunter's algorithms from a purely online domain to one that can encroach upon the physical world using cameras and cell phones, electricity and water usage, purchases and additional scanning services shouldn't be this difficult. Allen is intelligent, there's no doubt about it. Afton wouldn't have recruited him away from Google if he weren't. Still, every report he receives from the V.P. consists of setbacks and failures to expand Hunter's vigilance.
"You have an incoming call, sir." The plane's automated assistant's voice is female with a South African accent, friendly and yet business-like.
"From whom?"
"The number is registered to the MARSH, sir."
Turning his gaze from the screen to the top of the gray clouds outside of his window, the CEO and owner of PemTech International, Inc. scratches at the right side of his beard. He isn't due back at the MARSH for another week and a half, and then for a quick three day stint to advise on an upgrade to a containment unit protocol. Always sharp and always running multiple possibilities through his categorically brilliant mind, Afton quickly concludes that there's a pressing need for D.A.D.D.E.
"Put it through."
"Yes, sir." A small chirp follows indicating that the call has been connected.
"Yes?" Afton asks.
"Overwatch?"
"According to the dossier, you are correct."
"We've an asset in South America that needs attention. Are you available?"
"I appreciate your polite regard for my schedule," Afton shifts in his chair just as the plane jostles again and mentally reviews his schedule. "Where do I need to be and what's the priority?"
"The asset is currently heading from Bolivia to Paraguay. This is an A-3 rating."
Rapidly completing a mental calculation, Afton returns his gaze to his computer screen. The program is fifty-three percent through with its compilation process. "I can be there in roughly nine hours. What is the most likely travel path for the asset?"
MARSH delivers the trajectory in addition to the estimated time of arrival in Paraguay. By the end of the conversation, Afton has all of the information he needs as well as local assets assigned to observe and report. A carnival is being routed as well. However, Afton Pembrook is not one to break the rules and thusly waits until the seat belt sign is turned off before he unclips his and rises from the comfort of his chair.
Pulling down on the gray tweed vest he's wearing over his open collar, light blue Oxford shirt, Afton starts rolling his sleeves down over his tattooed forearms as he walks towards the back of the plane.
"Are you going somewhere, sir?" Ann calls from the front of the cabin.
"I am," Pembrook replies without stalling. "Have the plane continue on course."
"Yes, sir."
Pressing his black gloved hand against the activation panel at the back of the cabin, Afton waits patiently as the biological scanner he designed checks his DNA and confirms his identity. The door slides open revealing a room just large enough to change clothes within. Gray and unassuming with grating for the floor and small slate tiles along the walls and ceiling, the space at eye level with the executive and to the right flares to life as he walks into the chamber displaying the readings from the initial scan including levels of radiation. At a glance, Afton can tell that the repressive capabilities of D.A.D.D.E.'s nerve system that he always wears is functioning as it should.
"Activate delivery," he orders the system.
"Acknowledged." The word heralds a flurry of activity as wall panels separate and slide away revealing drawers and containers filled with sleek black objects and clothing. D.A.D.D.E.
Dressing in the skin of the suit, Afton pulls the ballistic material over his everyday wear. The nerve system immediately interacts with the circuitry contained within the suit, melding the purposes together. Once the skin is in place, the armor is mechanically applied. Skeletal robot arms extend and fasten plates of smooth highly protective ebony armor all about his body, the last of which is his helmet. After the full-face headgear is slid over his head, Afton opens his eyes to a variety of holographic displays responding to his thoughts and eye movement.
"System check," he orders.
"All systems are go," the suit replies in a smart, British man's voice.
"Access the navigation telemetry from System Alpha-Two-One," Pembrook instructs and turns about to face the rear of the plane through the walls of the changing room.
"Telemetry accessed."
"Open her up," Afton flexes his hands, the thrill of the beginning of personal flight in D.A.D.D.E. is always fresh.
The black tiles on the wall separate like a series of felled dominos revealing a length of fifteen feet of grating and the howling opening at the end. Ominous clouds fill the narrow mouth of the door and as though to announce Overwatch's activation, lightning flashes dramatically through the billowing nimbus.
"I trust that there will be a restaurant with decent empanadas when I arrive," with the help of the suit's infrastructure, Afton walks steadily down the gangplank.
"I will locate a restaurant for you, sir." replies the suit.
"Then," stopping at the exit, the executive closes his eyes for a moment and offers a silent prayer to God before grabbing the sides of the portal. "Let's fly."
Pushing away from the plane he feels his stomach jump into his heart as the weightlessness grips him. Turning and twisting, he sends his body into a spiral spin, arms clasped to his side, and plummets into the clouds like a missile shot towards the earth. Engines in his boots flare to life as do the discs in the palms of his suit's gloves. Emitting a hellish red streak of light behind him from hands and feet, Overwatch streaks away from his private jet towards the South American continent.
Posted on 2017-07-03 at 14:10:33.
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