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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Bromern Sal
Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: So...


I've posted. It is a general call to action.

Posted on 2012-11-19 at 05:04:53.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Not the ship!


(Explosive diarrhea of an elephant.) Da Shiong
La Se La Ch’wohn Tian.
Wyatt thought as the ship shook violently beneath his feet. For a brief moment the image of the little monk taking the stairs two at a time to speak with him leapt from his mind, replaced by the lot of them exploding in a silent ball of swirling flame. The sounds of Roc experiencing such torment are heart-wrenching. The pitching of her writhing in agony tossed Sung to the catwalk inviting him to experience the pain alongside his beloved ship as his knees strike the corrugated steel and his palms are roughed up under his weight. With an agonizing groan Roc throws Wyatt to his left shoulder and forces the wind from his lungs.

Screams of pain and cries of fear fill his confused mind. The cargo bay becomes focused in the maelstrom and Wyatt pulls himself to his feet while using the banister for support. He staggers as his boot slips and falls forward, pressing his chest to the cold rail and forcing his gaze on the shamble of people below. As his senses return, Wyatt's sharp, icy gaze penetrates the multitude placing those important to him and analyzing their well-being.

Willow rushed towards the stairs, worry written over her pretty petite features like a shepard's scripture--telling and painful in its own right. There, below the catwalk some distance beneath him, was his amicable little passenger sprawled out in comfortable unconsciousness, blood oozing from a head wound.

Wyatt pushes himself upright and calls out to John as he catches sight of the tech. "Help get him to the infirmary!"

Sung caught Ma doing what she always did in times of crisis...keeping a cool head and assisting where she was needed. Ash...where was the Kid? He'd been sent after the teenagers--those teens that staggered back into the bay with one of them out cold between them. Where was Ash?

Pointing to the fallen gentlemanly sort, Wyatt bellowed above the calamity: "Keep 'em here an' calm 'em down." Before he bolted for the stairs to the bridge.

"Asher, gorram it!" Captain Sung yelled achieving the stairs and taking them two at a time using the rail to help fling his athletic frame upwards. "You alive?" He wants a sign, a hollar, anything to indicate things are all right in the engine room. He hasn't time to wait though. He must achieve the bridge and see how Tess was holding up--see how Roc was doing.

Roc's ghostly horses couldn't have kept up as he speeds through the corridor, up the short flight of stairs and onto the bridge. Tess still in her chair seems a blessing, all things considered.

"What in the gorram hells was that?"

(OOC: Assuming some sort of snarky response affirming the worst of it....)

"Can we make that harbor you found us earlier?"

(OOC: Assuming another snarky response towards the affirmative....)

"Good. Do it, an' do it as fast as ya can, girl. We got a boatload o' boom an' I ain't talking about them chemicals we're supposed t' be deliverin'."

Swiping the mic from its cradle Wyatt addresses the ship in a tone that makes it seem as though the Star's pleasure cruise had just offloaded her passengers to a tour boat, nod they were all about to experience some wonderful sights.

"This is yer captain speaking. I'll be appreciating y'all's cooperation in settlin' down and finding ways t' stay out from underfoot as the crew goes about their duties. Crew...please go about yer duties an' deliver t' me reports on systems directly t' the bridge. Ash, Kid, it'd do well t' see how you can be of assistance in the hold right about now so John can git to his duties."

Shutting down the mic Wyatt looks at Tess and offers one of his rare, charming smiles. "We're still flyin', so today ain't all that bad." Meanwhile, his brainpan is spitting one thought over and over again into the hissing fire.

It comes in threes.

Posted on 2012-11-19 at 05:02:51.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Ship of Fools


Wyatt leaned his weight on the palms of his hands, and these he placed on the cool rail overlooking the cargo bay. Normally this bay was filled with either crates or livestock--he wasn't so sure it still wasn't filled with livestock. The crowd of bruised and confused played tricks with his crystal-colored eyes at first. He attempted to blink back the double vision, but it didn't cede. His lids closed for a moment and he breathed out a prayer to Buddha for patience. Even with the prayer, he found it more difficult to open his eyes to the swarming mass below than he'd anticipated. When he finally managed Willow and the little monk were quickly working through the crowd with direction and command. He felt the usual grateful surge for Willow and her many talents before moving his gaze to scan his new guests. Trouble was always on the table for Wyatt Sung, and he wasn't about to pretend he could ignore it. And sure as there was no oxygen in the Black, trouble came on the lips of those wanting special treatment aboard Roc.

"I want to speak with the captain," was something he heard echo throughout the bay from one metal wall to the other, and from more than one mouth. But before that got out of hand, he watched with chagrin as an obvious Browncoat officer stumbled to the ground.

Wyatt could tell the man was drunk from his actions...it was all too familiar a state of mind. The captain's usual stoic expression soured and he gripped the rail with white knuckle resolve. How often had he been tempted to drown himself in amber liquid fire? Especially since Sam had left? And here was a mirror to look in--to witness the demons at work, pulling and tearing at his flesh. That's when more recognition dawned and Wyatt took in a deep breath to steady the sudden cocktail of feelings he found himself mixing.

Captain Havelock was being helped up by a gentlemanly sort after having fallen drunkenly to his deck. The Captain Havelock of Serenity Valley. Names always carried their own stories after a war, but Havelock's carried more than a story. There weren't a Browncoat alive who likely didn't owe Havelock something. And here he stood, in conversation with a man who looked like he belonged to the crowd they'd come in with. Wyatt's head tilted to the side just a bit, similar to the way a dog's tilted when it saw that you were talking at it. Did he know the gentleman? Havelock obviously did. And whatever the man said to the old Browncoat, it seemed to work. Captain Havelock began barking orders, and people began to follow them. Wyatt finally released the grip on the rail and allowed himself to breathe. He'd have to figure out what kind of respect to pay the man later. There were more pressing matters at hand.

Motion near the stairs drew Wyatt's attention and furrowed his brow. The young folk were b-lining for the engine room. Placing his fingers in his mouth, Sung blew a sharp whistle to catch Ash's attention. At first, he ignored the others who looked, and focused his attention on the young gunman until he caught Asher's eye, and directed him after the teens. Then, he heard the call to "Come back," followed by the desperate bellow of, "Noooooo!"

Roc's captain looked back to the cargo bay doors just in time to see the security detail running back into the ship just as the whole vessel rumbles, and another explosion shakes them to the core. Wyatt gripped the rail again to keep from stumbling, and forces himself upright as soon as the blast doors began to shut. He could feel Roc gearing up to move beneath his feet, and the sound of galloping echoed all around him. They were moving, and fast at that. Tess must have seen something rather frightening to move Roc at that gait, and following the explosion, Wyatt easily figured it had something to do with their imminent safety being threatened by the Star's dying breath.

The chaos that followed was primarily verbal, and a quick scan told Wyatt that their new passengers weren't quite yet at the, "Screw everyone else, it's one for one, and all the rest of you can kiss my lily white ass," mode yet. But it likely wouldn't be long before they were, and the need to establish command and control on his ship was greatly pressing on him.

One more whistle erupted from his lips before he straightened into the commanding figure he could be and spoke with the calm of a practiced politician.

"My name is Captain Wyatt Sung, and yer aboard my ship now. Rocinante is a good ship, but she weren't built for the accommodations that the Star was. Our facilities are limited, an' though we are all grateful to Buddha that we were in this end o' the Black when this disaster happened, things are a bit tight. So, I'm gonna state this once, and only once. Listen like your lives depend on it, fine people. You stay here in this bay unless otherwise directed by myself'r one o' my crew. Don't go touchin' none of the cargo, don't go messin' with my mule. Just sit tight while we find the best solution to the situation.

"Miss Willow and Fu Sheng there'll help those o' you who are hurtin'. John'll support yer needs as we can, but there'll be order about it. The young man there is Asher...he's a good hand at public relations, so he'll be about as needed. That's Ma Trish, and she's just like any ma dirtside, so I wouldn't be pressin' her patience none.

"Now, I've got my pilot takin' us to a nearby planet that looks like it'll be a good place with some fresh air t' wait out the Alliance's rescue boats. It's 'bout a four-hour trip that should go rather quick if'n everyone's cooperative. So, let's be cooperative an' make it as pleasant as we can."

Tapping the rail with his left hand a couple of times, Wyatt considered just how diplomatic he wanted to be. Fine folk like this could lead to additional work in the future. Of course, there are levels to Fine, and some of the finer might take offense should he show the less-than-fine more favor. Making a decision, Wyatt spoke up again.

"Some o' you may want t' give me the time o' day pretending that Roc has more t' offer than what you see before you. It ain't that I am inattentive t' the needs o' my passengers. It's jus' that Roc is a pretty li'l thing that flies on a wing an' a prayer. So, I'll not be entertainin' private audiences with anyone 'less I determine it's necessary. Yer on my ship, an' there're a lot o' pressin' matters that need my attention. So, I appreciate yer cooperation.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I've progress t' check on."

Wyatt abruptly ended the speech by turning and striding for the stairs leading to the bridge. He hoped to Buddha he didn't have to shoot someone in the leg to drive his point home.

Posted on 2012-11-05 at 20:39:03.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Captain's bunk is off limits.


No negotiations here.

Posted on 2012-11-05 at 17:57:42.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Sorry, again. But I'm here.


“This is John Ryan of the firefly transport Rocinante, we have received your mayday call and are inbound. Over.”

Wyatt left John to his communications and returned his gaze out the viewports to where he could still see the pinpoint of glowing orange the size of a small star in the distance. Imagery of what kind of trouble they were taking on board splashed around in his brainpan like grease from the morning protein patties. Dignitaries, wealthy entitled people, snobby better-than-thou children…the likes of which he’d spent most of his life avoiding. All of these people crammed into their tiny little Firefly, shoulder-to-shoulder with injured and those pumped full of adrenaline. They hadn’t the foodstuffs, medical supplies, or space to air out all the dirty laundry that was bound to come on board with all of them rich-folk.

Tess reached over to the shipcom to engineering, “Prepare for hard burn.”

"Thank the lords above! This is Captain Edward Smith of the Five Star Cruise Line, are you close by? We have sustained serious damage and the starboard has suffered a cascade integrity failure. Can you take on survivors as the explosions have wrecked so many escape pods that we no longer have enough for all the passengers?" Wyatt registered relief and fear in the captain’s static-laced voice. Glancing down at the screen to Tess’ right he registered the distance between them and the newly damaged ship. Still no signs of anything that could have caused the damage externally.

In the meantime John continued the conversation with his usually tired tone, “We will be with you in 20-minutes Captain. How many casualties do you have and where do you advise docking?”

"At least 40 so far,” the delayed voice of the captain returned. “Internal comms are patchy and there’s lots of panic. Our upper stern docking station has a flange seal; we’re routing passengers there now.”

John sharply said to Tess, “Upper stern hatch, hard burn,” before getting back on the radio to Captain Smith, “What’s your situation? Were you attacked and do you have a damage report?”

Wyatt reached overhead and adjusted the radar range. The newly installed enhancements to the systems Tess’ friend had provided were a very handy gift, and Sung was grateful even more than usual for such a gift as he returned his gaze to the radar screen. Still nothing—and forty passengers wasn’t as bad as it could be.

"No attack as far as I can see. The primary power conduit blew causing a cascade of catastrophic systems failures. The main fuel tanks ignited and the explosions shook us to the core. There is damage to her hull integrity and the starboard escape pods were nearly all destroyed."

"Captain,” John replied with a disturbing lack of compassion evident in his voice as far as Wyatt was concerned. “We are a small ship. We can only take so many. Do you have life support?" Shaking his head, Captain Sung helped Tess plug in the trajectory after receiving telemetry from the nav computer. There was all sorts of debris floating about the ship, any one of which was hurtling through space pushed on by the power of the explosion; any one of which could potentially punch a hole in something important to Roc. Best to make sure that the entry path was mathematically approved.

"Life Support? For now but I barely have a hull and no guarantee that something else won't go up like a roman candle!" Wyatt read a rising impatience in the captain’s voice at the continued questioning, but he and Tess were busy recalculating the secondary route past some newly identified hull panels, so he let it be.

"Good, how long will you be able to last out? Once we've taken on as many as we can, will you have time for us to call for help?"

"What the ... Give me your Captain! What do you think I'm gorram doing you Hsiu mu fen tu!? Making gorram tea?" Captain Smith’s shouting was loud enough that it felt to Sung like he was in the cockpit with him, “"Give me someone with some sense and starting clearing room in your cargo bay Zhu toh zhu nao dai shing ren!!!!"

Taking a deep breath, Wyatt snatched the mic from its cradle and flipped control over to the pilot’s chair. “This is Captain Sung, an’ I hear ya, Capt. Smith. I’d like t’ apologize for the disconnected nature we’ve been introduced. John’s a good man, but he’s got concerns ‘bout our ability t’ shoulder the weight o’ something as large as the Star. Have t’ admit, I do as well, but that ain’t stoppin’ us from swingin’ on by t’ see what kind of service we can be.

“Like John said, we’ll be there now in ‘bout fifteen.”

"Captain Sung, things are pretty dire here. I need as much help as you can muster. From what I can see, the leftover passengers are heading towards the stern dock. Please tell me I am not herding them to their deaths Yu gong yi shung."

“Not if I can help it, Captain,” Sung glanced down to see Tess entering the calculations for the stern port o’ call. “We’ll be there as soon as a hard burn can facilitate it.”

"Willow,” John was saying, “We’re likely taking on a panicked mob. Tell everyone we have plenty of room for all but will take on casualties first. If there are any family groups left we'll take the children if we can."

Wyatt momentarily wondered where John was suddenly getting this desire to be in charge of his ship. He’d have to address that when there was time, or there’ll likely be trouble from it.

Willow’s voice sounded on the bridge, “Understood, John. As soon as you can, join us in the cargo bay for triage.”

“Mr. Ryan,” Tess said calmly, “Please remember that I was a pilot for a number of years in the war, and as such have developed the ever lovin’ ability to both fly and listen to the radio at the same time. Don’t underestimate my capability to be assess’n the situation, because believe you me di di, I’ve done flown into much worse on less information.”

Her face remained flat as she turned back to the console, “It might’n be a good idea fer you to go join Miss Willow and help her prepare to take on those forty odd casualties. I’m sure that Capt’n Wyatt and I can handle the bridge, and it do sound like she’ll be needin’ all the help we can muster.”

“Speakin’ of, Capt’n, has it occurred to you yet that we’re docking on a explodin’ ship with quite a bit ‘o TNT our ownselves? Not to say we shouldn’t pick up those poor sods, just summit to ponder.”

"You're picking now to argue mei-mei?" John paused, still watching Tess, before twisting in his seat and, in a much lighter but still serious tone, asked something of their Captain. "Permission to leave the bridge Sir?"

“That’s enough,” Wyatt growled. “The two o’ you. There’s far more important things at hand than pride, or whatever other yi dwei da buen chuo roh the lot o’ you are chewing on. Permission granted…an’ John, I give the orders on Roc. Dohn ma?

“Tess, I hired ya ‘cause I count on the pilotin’ skills you’ve shown t’ not git us blown up.”

“Capt’n,” Tess replied as John exited the bridge. She pulled up more information on the scanner, “Might’n be wanting to find a place to cozy up before them Feds decide to come in an’ save these rich folk.”

She swiveled her chair around so Wyatt could get a better look at the screen, “Ain’t got no fancy name, seeing as how it’s still in the second stage of terraform. LV-426, atmo, some trees an’ shrubs. Ain’t nothin’ living there yet, but I know there’ll be something to duck our heads under, an’ breathable air. ‘Bout four hours away, but a helluva lot closer than Sihnon, nor anythin’ else.”

Wyatt stared for a moment at the readout. He didn’t have time, nor the desire, to sit around and wait for the Purple Bellies to show up and take these Inner Planet luxury liner idgets off their hands. Good on Tess for thinking ahead. She was definitely proving to be a really good addition to the crew. “All right, see if you can keep running those scans an’ find us a place t’ put these passengers aground with a beacon. I’d rather not be duckin’ our heads when we could be a few hours further int’ the Black with nothin’ but our shiny backsides in the Alliance’s scanners.”

Rocinante Bridge, 8:15 pm ST

The Rocinante comes within visual range of the cruise liner. It is exactly as Captain Smith had said, the starboard side looks like so much crumbled paper and steel bulkheads. The escape pods have all launched from the port side and the auto-pings of their beacon further mess up your already hashed communications system. Tess looks to Wyatt as they pass by the worst of her damage and shakes her head at him. You don't have much time. Wyatt’s face is unreadable, but his eyes are filled with concern.

The docking station at the rear of the liner is a standard flange seal, and will mean that you can open up the entire cargo bay once you link up. The Star is currently stable, although listing to the port side slightly. The electrical is intact as the landing guide lights come on as you approach. Tess turns the ship slightly to match the pitch and moves into the docking station.

Rocinante pitched and rolled gradually as Tess lined her up to dock.

“I’ll keep her engines warm so we can boogy on outta here as soon as our new flock gits aboard,” she said as the flange locked up to Roc’s cargo bay doors, “When ya’ller ready, Capt’n, though we might’n be wantin’ to make it real quick like.”

“Oh,” Wyatt began as he tapped the back of her chair and made for the cargo bay. “I ain’t plannin’ on settin’ up a homestead. Keep an eye on those scanners, Tess. I don’t want nothin’ sneakin’ up on us.”

Wyatt burned through the ship corridors at a jog and reached the cargo bay just as they were starting to open the doors. Standing at the forefront of the walk just over the mule, he watched the scene unfold before him ready to call out orders as need be, fully aware that he’d left his rig in his bunk and hadn’t had time to swing by to pick it up on the way down. Willow was already there, and he’d leave her to her magic for the most part, but he wasn’t about to let a herd of panicked Inner-worlders come surging on board Roc without so much as a howdy-do and a complete understanding of who was in charge here. He only hoped that who was in charge was him…


Posted on 2012-10-26 at 02:14:38.

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


It required some clapping, and someone saying, "I believe in Bromern, I believe in Bromern..." but I am alice. Sorry for the delays.

So you all know, I, Bromern, harbor no ill will towards anyone for posting ahead and assuming actions in my absence. However, Wyatt is kinda a stickler about being in control on his ship.

Posted on 2012-10-26 at 01:04:39.
Edited on 2012-10-26 at 02:16:40 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: I'm a freighter captain, not a med-evac ship.


The peace that the Black brought Wyatt was akin to being folded in the warm embrace of a loved one after a long journey. It hasn't always been that way. There was a time before the War when A much younger, and much more naive, Wyatt Sung had never dreamed of going off-world for so much more than a brief vacation. He had been content with the dream of a parcel of land, a wife and family, and growing old, tired, and cantankerous while watching the red sun set on the horizon. Now...now the cold dark of the Black was his mistress, and were he too long with the dirt beneath his soles he became edgy, angry, and more likely to cast about for trouble. He recognized this particular demon every time they set to port, and he made such visits as short as possible.

So, here he was, watching Tess out of the corner of his eye while using the other corner to eyeball John. It wasn't that he didn't trust them. They'd been on board long enough to prove their worth. He was just bored, and with boredom came a desire to drink. His options were to socialize, read, browse the Cortex, or pretend to be busy while possibly (subtly) learning something at the same time. That's what had brought him to the bridge; acting busy on the Nav-Computer while trying to learn a few tricks from the crew there, and that's how he ended up rising quick from his seat to lean over Tess' shoulder and stare intently at the scanner.

"John," Wyatt ordered as he watched the read. "Get back on the radio and let them know we're inbound. Skin yer eyes fee something fishy though--reavers, pirates, or the like. Cruise liners ain't prone t' go all fiery like that of their own choosin'. See if'n they can't give us an idea as to why they're lightin' up my sky while yer at it.

"Take us in Tess, only not so tight as t' risk the paint bubbling from the heat."

"Evenin'," Wyatt drawled into the shipwide com. "This'll be your captain speakin'. It looks like we might be Gavin' a few guests fer supper t'night, so let's make preparations accordingly."

Posted on 2012-10-17 at 16:47:54.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: I'm a freighter captain, not a med-evac ship.


The peace that the Black brought Wyatt was akin to being folded in the warm embrace of a loved one after a long journey. It hasn't always been that way. There was a time before the War when A much younger, and much more naive, Wyatt Sung had never dreamed of going off-world for so much more than a brief vacation. He had been content with the dream of a parcel of land, a wife and family, and growing old, tired, and cantankerous while watching the red sun set on the horizon. Now...now the cold dark of the Black was his mistress, and were he too long with the dirt beneath his soles he became edgy, angry, and more likely to cast about for trouble. He recognized this particular demon every time they set to port, and he made such visits as short as possible.

So, here he was, watching Tess out of the corner of his eye while using the other corner to eyeball John. It wasn't that he didn't trust them. They'd been on board long enough to prove their worth. He was just bored, and with boredom came a desire to drink. His options were to socialize, read, browse the Cortex, or pretend to be busy while possibly (subtly) learning something at the same time. That's what had brought him to the bridge; acting busy on the Nav-Computer while trying to learn a few tricks from the crew there, and that's how he ended up rising quick from his seat to lean over Tess' shoulder and stare intently at the scanner.

"John," Wyatt ordered as he watched the read. "Get back on the radio and let them know we're inbound. Skin yer eyes fee something fishy though--reavers, pirates, or the like. Cruise liners ain't prone t' go all fiery like that of their own choosin'. See if'n they can't give us an idea as to why they're lightin' up my sky while yer at it.

"Take us in Tess, only not so tight as t' risk the paint bubbling from the heat."

"Evenin'," Wyatt drawled into the shipwide com. "This'll be your captain speakin'. It looks like we might be Gavin' a few guests fer supper t'night, so let's make preparations accordingly."

Posted on 2012-10-15 at 21:30:15.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: I am a leaf on the wind...


I blow in every now and again.

Posted on 2012-10-14 at 19:27:47.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Skipping to the here and now...


Boom...or ka-boom...either way, Wyatt wasn't keen on transporting the ingredients for such effects. Fertilizer was one thing (though Wyatt had been into ranching, not farming, he appreciated the work that went into tilling the earth and was always grateful for fresh vegetables), but if that fertilizer could go putting a hole in the side of Roc; well, that wasn't appealing to the somber captain.

For months they'd been toting everything from grain to equipment for these good people, and Sung wasn't beyond dropping them in the "good, honest folk" barrel, but taking the long way 'round while carrying goods that were illegal to transport–Sam would have been downright twitchy about it, and Wyatt wasn't so keen on just allowing it on his boat even on the say-so of men he'd come to appreciate. So, while Willow began the negotiations as she was more than capable of doing, Wyatt hooked his thumbs in his belt and peered at the men from beneath the brim of his hat; expressionless, and casual.

"I'm all fer slipping things past the purple bellies," Wyatt drawled with a practiced half-smile after they'd answered Willow's questions concerning the nature of volatile acquaintences should the "corn syrup" come into contact with something unexpected. "Question I got for ya is pretty straight forward, Sheriff Justice. It's well-known t' me an' mine that you an' these fine gentlemen got nothing by way of warm an' fuzzy feelings fer the Feds. Buddha knows I'm not climbing int' bed with none of them...well, ever. However, I gotta believe that there are good people on both sides o' the War that got kilt fer being in the wrong place at the wrong time, an' I don't aim t' see that happen again." The image of the smoking crater that had been Yardiff's home popped into mind like grease splashing from a hot frying pan as it had done many a quiet time since he'd witnessed it on the monitor that night after their acrobatic auditions. He hadn't laughed at the antics Justice and his men had played out behind the reporter. He'd stared grimly at the screen and contemplated the deaths of the four people, and the likelihood of whether they'd been deserving of such a fate. When John had left the room, Wyatt had taken stock of that too, and he'd heard the talk about the ship since then. There were mixed sympathies on board Roc, but the fact that this was his family didn't mean there weren't mixed politics that he had to keep in mind should they want to keep flying. Shoving the thoughts back into the black recesses of the chained-up chest he kept such things in, Wyatt allowed the half-smile to turn into a full smile and spread his hands before him.

"People have got t' keep their crops fresh and lively, of that I am positive. If you fine people say this is the way to do so, then this is the way to do so. And we'll take ourselves a little detour into deep Black t' make that happen. Just seeking some assurances is all Sheriff Justice. It's one thing t' cross the Alliance with yer eyes open wide, an' it's another altogether t' do so with shiny rose-colored glasses on while dreaming of the green fields of Earth that Was."

Posted on 2012-10-13 at 21:45:00.

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


How does it taste mixed with coffee, or a protein bar?

Posted on 2012-10-12 at 16:41:09.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: I think he did...he did see a puddie cat.


Good thing Wyatt knows what context Wolf ws using "Stupid" in...and that he can't read minds (John).

Posted on 2012-10-03 at 15:26:05.

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


The delay has been fortuitous for me. But I am looking forward to proceeding.

Posted on 2012-10-02 at 14:32:25.

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


Thanks, Roger.

So, just watched Serenity again yesterday. My wife's best friend's kid was over and he'd never heard of it. So, we Geekified him.

What an excellent show.

Posted on 2012-09-23 at 23:37:13.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: That's a rap... Or is it a wrap?


Watching the light on the radar pulse and then disappear was extremely satisfying, Wyatt decided from where he stood peering at the screen over his new pilot's shoulder. The captain was unable to get a good view with the naked eye on the destruction that criminal boss had rained down on himself by hiring a stupid pilot, but the cramped feeling in his gut lifted a little at the thought.

"Can't return to the scene o' the crime--or so I've been told," Wyatt hit the back of the pilot's chair with a single knuckle by way of congratulations (it nearly had been a pat on the shoulder out of reflex and ghosts fluttering around in his brainpan in the likeness of Sam Dash). "Take us back t' port, an' keep an eye on that sky. Don' want us trailin' no toilet paper stuck to our boots.

"John," Captain Sung gave him a cool nod as though he'd planned the whole escapade as part of the audition. "I'd be mighty appreciative if'n you monitored all available feeds to see if that Yardis fellow happens t' show up more alive than dead. Don't like leavin' loose ends."

That said, Wyatt pushed his hat back on his head and made his way out of the cockpit. The prevalent thought was not apparent on his scruffy face. That they'd been visited by Fate was not lost to the man. Pausing before the ladder to his bunk Wyatt considered what would come first: the good third, or the bad. After all, they'd picked up a damn fine pilot, and a tech who could apparently fly some as well. At the same time, Gator had made an indelible impression on some local big bad an' uglies, which Wyatt couldn't imagine wouldn't be visiting them some time in the future. That type didn't like nobody messing with their herd unless it was them.

Pushing the door open, Sung descended into his private quarters, brushing his fingers across the smooth face of the elephant picture after sliding the door shut behind him. His hat, he threw unceremoniously onto the chair bolted to the wall next to his bunk. His badge that he was--is--a Browncoat followed as he draped his coat over the top of it. Making his way to the toilet, he pulled the sink from the wall and leaned on it as he looked into the mirror.

"Yer getting' old, Sung," he muttered while following the lines developing at the edges of his eyes and beneath the mustaches and goatie that curtained his mouth. "Sometimes, Eden, I think I'm 'bout t' see you an' Summer again. An' I ain't sorry for it. I'm tired. Bone tired. An' today...well, today I was cheated an' won, but it's the cheat that hangs on...ya know?"

Dropping his chin to his chest, Wyatt chuckled one of his rare, dry as the leaves of Autumn chuckles. "I'm conversatin' with myself. It's been a long day, an' it ain't over yet."

Turning on the precious water, Wyatt splashed some over his face allowing the cold liquid to play something with his skin and at least give the impression that he wasn't dead inside. After, he turned off the water, dried the basin, and pushed it back into the wall. Seating himself at the small monitor embedded within the steel of the ship's hull, Sung turned on the screen and began thumbing through various menus and commands until he found what he was looking for.

For the next while, Wyatt put word out to some of those contacts he had in less than scrupulous places concerning Yardif. He tried his best to be vague, and make it sound like he'd witnessed the explosion from some far away local, but part of m didn't care whether Yardif had survived and came looking for them. So long as Wyatt got to face him down eye-to-eye when the bullet from the captain's Colt revolver broke a hole in the man's forehead. No one, living or dead, mussed with Wyatt's own. Nobody.

Posted on 2012-09-20 at 05:03:57.

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


My hats off to you, Mr. Roger. That was an excellent puzzle you pieced together, and an epic method of storytelling. I thoroughly enjoyed everyone's posts and participation, but Roger...that last bit reminded me why we used to have a writers group.

Posted on 2012-09-19 at 07:09:16.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: I've posted.


Let the die roll.

Posted on 2012-09-14 at 19:09:15.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Time to get down to business.


What had begun as a simple audition was turning out to be a full-fledged run for their lives, and where most people would likely be breaking a sweat, losing their cool, or otherwise be paralized; Wyatt Sung was growing colder and colder; becoming one with the Black. Summer used to say that whenever she saw him enter this mood. One with the Black: just as unforgiving. Tess was performing very well, and the gentleman technician also seemed to have a few tricks up his sleeve. Even the venacular he used registered with Wyatt as being Alliance-influenced, but that was niether here nor there. John was fighting for his life the same as everyone else on this boat. And when the two missiles fell to the dirt, Wyatt made his decision. When two more heat-seekers popped up and John started to make the moves to disable these two, Wyatt had seen enough—and apparently someone else had too as the controls John had commandeered went impotent.

"Good show, people," Wyatt grimly acknowledged. "But I'm through playin' with this ben dan (idiot).

"John, see if you can't punch into the pilot's comm," Wyatt shifted his hat so that the brim rode low over his eyes. "Tess, keep on doin' what you're doin', only take us back toward that party Gator flew us over some time back. They got a nice heat signature as I remember."

Glancing at the console John had been working on Wyatt snatched up the mic for the onboard intercom system. "Someone find that Gator fella' an' make sure he ain't up to misbehavin'. Wolf...I need that system back online. Be a good fellow an' see to it, won'tcha?"

Back to Tess, "That angel ain't flyin' like a pro. Take him low, fast, an' straight to the fires o' hell. Hopefully he'll play right on our heels and when those missiles hit the flames he'll be too close behind t' pull out an' we'll be addin' one more pig t' the pit.

"John, once those systems are operatin' I want t' know everything there is t' know 'bout that property, who owns these here fields, an' what paper he wipes with."

Folding his arms across his chest, Wyatt's cold tone and expression didn't change as he added, "Welcome to Rocinante you two. You each get one share o' the haul, room, board, an' all this here entertainment as icing on the cake."

Posted on 2012-09-14 at 16:34:05.

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


Who's watching Gator?

Posted on 2012-09-14 at 16:17:08.

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


I'm going to post tomorrow having had my series of questions answered. We'll have plenty to respond to then...I'm sure of it.

Posted on 2012-09-14 at 03:54:38.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: I knew it!


Finding pretty people for the poster payed off.

Posted on 2012-09-08 at 06:38:31.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Time...Adrift in the Blackness of Auditions...


Wyatt appeared the epitome of a relaxed drifter as he leaned back against the gun cabinet, arms folded across his chest, left toe over his right foot, his tired blue eyes fixed on Tess’s dextrous and well-orchestrated motions at the console. She’d performed some preflight voodoo before firing Roc’s engines up, and Wyatt had been reluctant to admit that this superstitious behavior had endeared the wild-haired spitfire to him a little more. It had also set his nerves to rest even before she’d settled Roc into her motions as smoothly as a dancer on one of them fancy stages Captain Sung had heard about, but never before seen. He had to mentally catch himself every time she performed a new action not to refer to her as the pilot seeing how there was still that fellow who had been helping Fenris to try his hand at the stick. But it was gorram hard not to. Tess was handling Roc like a mother handled a baby, and she’d plucked Gator off his feet with that solid punch like a mother protecting her baby (another thing that had endeared her to Wyatt). That had been something: the whole of the crew practically coming together like a Mormon lynch mob after the man who’d kilt their bishop. The thought of the all too recent event nearly caused Wyatt to smile...then the alarm sounded.

“What we have here, Capt’n,” Tess said, activating a few more sensors as Rocinante rocked across the valley, “is an Angel. And she ain’t got no marks, neither. Seems her pulse beacon’s gone a missin’.”

Wyatt peeled himself from the wall and moved right up behind her so that he could see the sensor for himself. He recognized the signature, sure enough, and the thought of it set his blood cold. Someone didn’t want them up there...but the why’s and what’s of it would have to wait until after they’d cleared his sky of pesky insects.

“Well, Miss Tess,” Wyatt stepped back and took hold of one of the handy grips underneath the overheads. “I ain’t gonna say this was planned, but it sure as hell looks as though you’ve got yerself a full-fledged opportunity to be a big damn hero. I say, you take it.”

“I highly suggest ya’ll hold onto sumthing. This might’n be an Angel of Death,” Tess slammed her hand into the shipwide comm, “Hope you boys is ready down in engineerin’. Things might’n be gittin’ a little dicey.”

Wyatt settled back for the ride, the whole time conjuring what evil he was going to visit on the one responsible for once again putting his boat and his people at risk.

Posted on 2012-09-06 at 04:17:27.

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


Wyatt is a superstitious and careful sort. Drills are likely a regular occurrence on board Roc.

Posted on 2012-09-05 at 13:58:57.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: I see absolutely no reason...


For me to post at all at this juncture. Celeste had already consulted with me as to Wyatt's reaction to The Punch, and covered that nicely. And, as usual, Roger covered the remainder of things pertaining to Wyatt rather well.

It has been a loooooooooooooooong weekend, and my brainpan is about to boil over. So, I'll backpost maybe, but will definitely post the next round.

Good job all y'all.

Posted on 2012-09-05 at 03:05:28.

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


So, this weekend wasn't what I expected it to be, and as you can all see; I didn't get the chance to post. My family went on a little vacation and the place we stayed at had wifi, but they couldn't remember the password, so I didn't have internet all weekend. Then, due to fires at the beginning of the summer, and rains this weekend, there was some major flooding/mud slides in our area. Missed our neighborhood, but hit the one just south of us. So, as soon as I returned home from the vacation I was over there helping with clean up. I'll try to sneak something in tomorrow as I'm beat right now.

Posted on 2012-09-04 at 02:40:23.

 


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