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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Just in case....
I am working up a follow up post for Dash where the crew of the Celestia and getting the "wounded" back to Roc is concerned... If you beat me to posting, Al, my plans were to have Dash 1)make some off color comments to the "enemy crew" - "These are the yukkers as wanted to spray our boat with ice an' crap? Buncha mouth breathers don' look like they c'n read let alone fly! Nice rack, Red!" - as he passes, etc 2)Check out the big dead guy and relieve his corpsified self of that gatling gun and anything else that might fetch a fair price, and 3) once back at the ship and leaving Jim in Willow's capable hands, head back to his bunk, grab that bottle of whiskey (for medical purposes  ) and his rifle before heading back to the airlock to "keep an eye" on Wyatt and the red-headds whilst he's waiting his turn to get patched up.
Nothing really major, except for maybe relieving dead-guy of his gear, I guess. Just wanted to give you my train of thought in case you got to a post before I did. 
Posted on 2007-07-23 at 19:34:55.
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Topic: Add On Story. Fill in 3 words!
Subject: O.o
of sweatsocks, gouda,
Posted on 2007-07-23 at 18:51:50.
Edited on 2007-07-25 at 14:37:52 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: The Would You Rather Game
Subject: Not sure of the difference...
...but I think I'd go with the Y2K sceanrio... sounds as if there might be a better chance of a "speedy recovery" from that one. (Assuming you'd survive the riots and the crazy generator and bottled water sales.. )
Lose a limb or lose one of your senses?
Posted on 2007-07-23 at 18:50:44.
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Topic: yet another movie thread...
Subject: Yes you do...
Just got the opportunity to see Transformers last night, in fact. I was pleasantly surprised. I went in expecting great CGI and a mediocre story line... you know, one of those movies that's fun to watch but doesn't really have any substance? Got much more "substance" than I had imagined they'd be able to pack into a Transformers movie, surprisingly enough. And of course the CGI was incredible... Now we know that MechWarrior/BattleTech can be done properly... Someone needs to get off their butts and do it!
Posted on 2007-07-23 at 15:24:10.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: A kinght, a sorcerer, and a dead girl walk into a bar....
Something had bitten him… a big something by the feel of it… and whatever it was, its bite was affecting him at the last, crucial moments of his casting and it was all Jal could do to finish the incantation and secure the tree-men. It hadn’t occurred to him that the “bite” was actually a poisoned bolt from one of the Green’s crossbows, nor did it occur to him that this could possibly be the last spell he would cast and, in his inexperienced excitement to help, that he may have doomed his new “friends” to death because of it. All he could do, even as the poison started to sap his consciousness, was finish the spell and hope it was enough… there wasn’t enough left of his sight, though, to see whether or not the web had cast… and then, darkness.
The afterlife looks curiously like a tavern, Jal thought, his expression extremely puzzled as he attempted to blink away the gauzy haze that must have been an after effect of death and surveyed the strangely presented hall of the dead.
The spellbinder’s face contorted into a mask of deepening perplexity when he realized that one of the patrons of this place was none other than Arien. The knight occupied a booth not far away and was drinking ale with a woman who could only have been his sister and another demonic looking woman… Jal’s heart sank and he took the knight’s presence here to mean that, not only had he been killed, but so too had Arien. He glanced over his shoulder, afraid but all but expecting the ghosts of Dapple, Maximus, Kilgrim, and Valentine to stride in at any moment, too, before turning a befuddled eye back to Sir Thedell.
You should not be here, Sir knight, he wanted to scream at the mirror armored ghost, Dapple is alone in the corridor with the Greens and Iuz only knows what other abominations! He needs your help!
He wanted to shout those words but found that the sight of his old master tending bar had effectively stipped him of his voice. The ancient and vile sorcerer was cleaning a beer mug with a dirty rag and looking at the crowd with as much contempt and disgust as he ever had when gazing upon his former pupil. No, he thought, unaware that he had taken a few cowering steps backward at the sight of the Master, how can it be that Sir Arien and I have been sent to the same Hell as him?!? This cannot be… cannot be… real...
Jal turned his head, repeating the words ‘cannot be real’ over and over as he willed this afterlife to be gone. It was then that he noticed the two dead soldiers he had just seen in the stairwell. They were dressed like workers and busied themselves fixing a wooden beam support in the ceiling. Why he found that curious, Jal couldn’t quite fathom, but for the moment, it had served to distract him from the evil glare of the bartender and drawn his attentions even deeper into the place. He spied a waiter approaching and, as the stout little man approached was both amused and horrified to realize that the waiter was none other than Dwan Granitecrusher.
“Table for one,” Dwan asked as Jal blinked dumbly at him.
“Jal!” Before the urchin mage could find the words to reply to Dwan and all to familiar voice assailed his ears and set his eyes out in search of its source. “Jal! Over here!”
And there she was… Wynter was waving at him from across the room; that beautiful smile providing the light that he had imagined he would find when he at last met his end. She beckoned him gleefully and his heart fluttered when he recognized her… even though he knew now that it was impossible for her to be here. Even if I am damned to the same hell as the Master, Wynter cannot possibly be condemned to that fate… His gaze ticked nervously to the old wizard at the bar, hesitant to look too long lest the Master recognize him, then back to the lovely girl who demanded his attention.
“Oh!” the Lord of the Iron League/waiter chastised, “You are with her? You have kept the Lady waiting for a long time sir. That simply won’t do.”
Jal grinned sheepishly at the dwarf and nodded his agreement. “Much too long, my lord,” the spellbinder acquiesced before padding towards the table where Wynter sat, “far longer than you could possibly know.”
Almost hesitantly, as if expecting that the girl might vanish with each footfall that brought him closer, the urchin mage crossed the room and released the breath that he had held hostage behind a tight-lipped smile. “Wynter? Is it really? You are here,” he sighed, still not quite believing his eyes. He wanted to pull her from her seat and wrap her in his arms and smell her hair and…
“Of course I am here, my love,” Wynter smiled brilliantly and gestured to the empty chair on the other side of the table, “Where else would you expect to find me?”
He was at once transfixed by her smile, confused by her question, and, in his hopes to make her happy, almost bungling as he tried to seat himself across from her. Jal blinked rapidly as he almost fell onto the chair and then, just as quickly and clumsily, nearly toppled off the other side. Only the brief sense of vertigo as he caught himself was able to break the spell her smile had on him and able to temporarily dismiss the dopey grin that had thus far stretched his lips from ear to ear… It was enough, though, to at last find a reply to the query she had just posed.
“Well,” he murmured, somewhat nervously scanning the barroom before returning his pale eyes back to here, “I would not expect to find you in a tavern, my love…” his gazed ticked towards Arien, then, and for the briefest of instants, at the Master “…and certainly not among the likes of this. Well, Arien perhaps, he is a noble man, in title as well as character, from what I can tell and…”
Wynter’s slender fingers stroked the back of his hand as she leaned across the table and whispered; “Haven’t I always waited here for you, my Spellbinder? For as long as we have known one another, is this not always where you find me?” She withdrew and, as her hands drifted back across the table, Jal saw a pair of glasses and a bottle of wine that he didn’t recall seeing before. She smiled sweetly at him again and, awaiting his answer, poured each glass half full. The questions must have etched a mask of puzzlement on his features because, as Wynter slid one of the glasses across the table, she giggled at him, shook her head, and patted his hand before she sat back again, claiming the second glass for herself.
“Am I… am I dead,” he managed to ask, almost as baffled by the sight of Wynter drinking wine as he was by her questions and the presence of all theses others in this place… whatever it was… “What is this place?”
She giggled again and lifted the wine glass to her rose petal lips. “No, my love,” she cooed, “not dead… not quite…”
((OOC:Not going to assume much more past that but, for some reason, I’m getting the impression that there may be a “learning experience” in here somewhere so… I imagine Jal questioning Wynter as to what she might know about each of the “familiar faces” (Arien, Dwan…the M-m-master… eep!) and, perhaps, as to where she has been for so long… DMs discretion as to whether anything comes of all this, of course. Anyway, I imagine the “dream” ending a bit like this…))
“Perhaps you should have a drink of your wine, my sweet Spellbinder,” Wynter smiled, brushing her fingers across his cheek and nodding to the as yet untouched glass before him. There was a hint of sadness in her eyes, he thought, as he smiled back at her; “Leave these other mysteries for another time and turn your mind to other things.”
His ice-colored eyes dipped to the glass and the shimmering liquid within. He though he saw the flare of a torch in the surface of the wine and, from outside the tavern, the sounds of a fight. The sounds were faint at first but, as he watched his fingers curl around the stem of the glass and lift it, it grew louder and louder.
“That’s it, my love,” he heard Wynter’s voice whisper, “drink your wine and then we must go… you have friends to attend to… and I have…”
~~~~~~*****~~~~~~
The sounds of battle were all around him, now. Clanging and shouting and the sickening sounds of rending flesh; he could almost feel it vibrating through him. He could almost smell it… he could almost recognize some of the shouting voices… but none of them were Wynter’s and she hadn’t finished telling him where she would be. That angered him and, as he gritted his teeth to keep from cursing and cleched his fists in an attempt to stifle an enraged scream, he came to the realization that he did recognize the voices weaving through the din of the fight – Arien… Dapple… Char… – and that he was lying face down on a cold and fetid dungeon floor. He realized that he wasn’t dead and that he had awoken in the midst of the fight…
As frightened, now, as he was angry about losing Wynter again, Jal scrambled to his feet snatching up his staff as he went. He spun around and, wide-eyed for a long moment, took in the carnage that had erupted around his still form in what could have been only minutes. There were bodies and blood and… sap?... everywhere and, while it looked like his friends had done well enough, the situation didn’t look as if well enough might do. There was something burning still shambling about and a Blue in the midst of his party a great number of whom appeared to be near death or worse… He blinked.
What do I do?! the urchin mage nearly lost his composure… he couldn’t believe that he was standing here gawking at the unfolding massacre and doing nothing to help his friends but an appropriate spell wouldn’t come to mind and even though Arien’s sword lay close by, even Jal wasn’t mad enough to pick it up and try to weild it against an Imperial Blue… Arien’s sword, my love? Why wouldn’t he have that?
He blinked again. Arien’s sword!!! Even as he stooped to retrieve the weapon, Jal’s eyes sought out the mirror-armored knight and he knew then what he had to do. “Sir Thedell,” he shouted, hoping he would gain the knight’s attention for at least a second, “Your sword!”
((OOC: Okay, I guess Jal’s going to try and toss Arien his pig-sticker and, if he’s got it in him, let’s see if he can’t cast Light on the Blue’s eyeballs… then, I suppose, we’ll see what happens. P.S. My sincere apologies for the extremely long absence… Hopefully, I’ve got things worked around so that I can become a “regular” again. ))
Posted on 2007-07-20 at 02:12:16.
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Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: What a place to pick up...
((Foregoing all the backposting to get back in the saddle “present time”))
“Ai ya,” Dash groaned as he hauled himself to his feet a little less hesitantly than he might have liked, “Sumbitch that ruttin’ hurts!” The sound of the blast that had sent himself, the Kid, and Jim flying down the stairs still rang loudly in his ears and, as Dash shook his head to clear his vision and rattle that damn buzzing loose, he realized that he might be a little more than bounced around. It didn’t seem like there was a part of his body that didn’t hurt or he wasn’t bleeding from and even the act of clearing the cobwebs produced sharp pains here and there.
Yer standin’ up, least ways, Dash, he reminded himself as the haze caused by the explosion started clearing from his eyes and he discovered Jim sprawled not far from him. Then he caught sight of the Kid, battered, bloodied, and, Dash imagined, just as baffled as he was his own self.
“Ya a’right, Ash,” he asked, reaching out a hand to help haul the boy to his feet, “Ya look ‘bout like I feel, Di-Di.”
Asher nodded and may have even muttered a reply… his lips moved but the ringing in Dash’s ears was still loud enough that he couldn’t tell if words had come out or if the Kid was just sucking in a breath…
(minor liberties with Ash’s actions there, will edit if necessary)
…didn’t matter, though. The Kid was up and moving around which was more than could be said for poor ol’ Jimbo. The prospector was in bad shape, for sure, and in years past when Dash went by a different name and worked for a different crew, he’d seen enough folk lookin’ like this to realize that Ryan had taken the brunt of the blast… That as didn’t get soaked up by that damn fool kid, Dash reminded himself, suddenly sickened by the way that boy – Kenny, weren’t it? Li’l rutter couldn’ta been scarce old enough ta shave, let alone fight… – got fragged to bits by his own. “Where’s my gorram gun?”
Despite the fact that the shooting seemed to be over and, from the sound of it, Wyatt had corralled the rest of the crew that had come off Celestia Dash had been set to exact a little retribution but realized at that moment that the explosion that had tossed them all down the steps had also jarred his pistol from his grasp and sent his shotgun skittering from its sheath as well. He was in the process of retrieving the weapons when Miss Will showed up and when she dropped to her knees and started her examination of the critically injured prospector, Dash figured that she wouldn’t be letting him get away without helping. Stuffing the pistol back in its holster, Dash offered the Doc a faint nod as she looked up at him, letting her know that he and the Kid weren’t probably as bad as they looked and, also, that he was ready to help out with jim if necessary.
“I need one of you to put pressure on these wounds,” she said, pointing out the wounds as a wincing Dash gingerly lowered himself next to the fallen man, “here and here, the ones that are spurting.”
The pilot stripped the bandana from his head to press to one of the bleeds and tugged another, which he offered to the Kid, from his back pocket.
“Don’t turn that shade of green,” Willow demanded – though he wasn’t sure if she was addressing him or the Kid, “I need you to help while I check the rest of the crew! Yes, that’s it, loves, I’ll be right back.”
As the lovely doctor rushed off to check the others, Dash fought off a wave of dizziness and offered a wry grin to Asher. “She’d turn green too if’n a staircase banister got jammed inta her nethers, I reckon… Buddha’s balls but this guy’s bleedin’ like a stuck hog, ain’t he?”
((OOC: More to come… just figured I’d get this up to get back in the saddle so to speak… If anyone else gets around to posting before I do, Sam’ll be following orders (help with the wounded, get back to Roc and get his ownself patched up as time allows, etc)… If he passes any of the Celestia’s crew on his way out, he’s likely to have some fairly coarse words for them but isn’t liable to smack none of ‘em around none… specially with the whinin’ and boo-hooin and such… ))
Posted on 2007-07-18 at 15:14:21.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Don't give up on me yet...
...I still be breathin'!
Posting very soon... I swear.
Posted on 2007-07-17 at 13:26:18.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Hey yous guys!!!
I'm baaaaaaaaack!
Gathering up the backlog and conjuring up a post as I type this, too... gorram but I'm efficient... or is that flatulant? Everwhat! I managed an escape from the real life goons (pretty sure those joo bah jehs had hands of blue) and hope to have a good post tacked up for you all soon... Of course, ya disappear from Al's games for a while and come back to discover you've just been fragged by shrapnel... don't expect Dash to be happy an' skippin around er nothin'... matter of fact, where's that big guy with the gat? I got somethin' I wanna say ta his kneecaps with my damn shotgun... Kill Kenny will ya?
Posted on 2007-06-14 at 17:51:12.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Finally!
It's been a week or better in the works but I managed to get a post tacked up... ... With any luck, I may manage a more detailed post re:breakfast time in the next day or so but, just in case the calls and stuff swamp me again, I tacked on some "Dash will" notes in my OOC... 
Posted on 2007-05-01 at 17:30:22.
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Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Scuse my boardin-house reach
“…we’s don’t have sausage Dash-man,” Jim laughed, but we does have a side of bacon we can’t be keeping for fear of going bad, and the eggs come to us mixed, so you’ll have to like scrambled.” Jim looks over at the far empty airlock again; “But please bring your crew in for a bite. We ain’t had company for awhile and Sam gets tired of my talkin’ to myself. Them in the other ship will be a spell and if things get nasty then we are best in numbers. Any your crew not the fighting type, we’s got a basement, safe and snug.”
The pilot’s stomach rumbled expectantly when the miner mentioned bacon. “Bacon’s good as sausage, puhn yoh,” Dash grinned, “so long’s it’s th’ real deal an’ not no pressed from paste mi tian gohn. Hell, I reckon I’d eat dog-bacon just so long’s it’s real meat.”
His gaze shadowed Jim’s as the prospector looked at the still unoccupied coupler and he nodded when Jim mentioned having a secure basement for any non-fightin’ types as might be on the crew. That’ll work out jus’ shiny fer Miss Wil, he thought, almost chuckling when he imagined the look on the delectable Doc’s face if she actually had to skitter down the steps and hide in the cellar if the MC’s crew dusted up a ruckus, Course, that’ll leave Ma onna Roc all by her lonesome… Dash’s eyes ticked towards the coupler to which Roc was tied and he scowled a bit. If the Joo Bah Jeh’s aboard the Celestia got the notion to board Roc Trish’d be able to hold them with Bessy long enough for someone to come runnin’ but, if the bastards decided to get their paybacks outside the dome, Ma’d be humped worse than a Reaver in a Lovebot factory… Dash forced that thought aside when the other prospector showed up and made his own introductions.
Where Jim Ryan was tall and lean, Sam Hawkes was short and stout, and where Jim was more guarded with his neighborliness, Sam seemed a little more eager to offer up information that, in Dash’s opinion, one oughtn’t go offering to them as you just met. When the stockier man made mention of packing groceries in with the ice shipment, Dash smirked and flicked a glance at Wyatt, knowing that “secret cargo” wasn’t on the Cap’s “good luck” list… Dash didn’t care for not knowing exactly what he was flying around the Black, either, but he silently hoped that Jim and Sam’s method of getting their vittles wouldn’t spoil breakfast…Ain’t like they’s smugglin’ nothin’ as goes boom, after all… Jus’ eggs an’ bacon an’… Gorramit; enough with the talkin’! Let’s chow!
Wyatt nodded and pulled his comset from his coat. “Roc,” he drawled as Dash’s gaze traced from the Mutt-and-Jeff prospectors, to the still vacant gantryway, and, finally, to the slip where Roc was tethered, “why don’t ya all come on down to the spread for a bite t’ eat. Step lightly folks, we don’t want t’ ruin Sam’s tomatoes.”
“Er nuthin’ else, far as that goes,” Dash rumbled, returning his attention to the small knot of men.
“So, Jim,” Wyatt said, tipping his hat back a bit and shifting his position a bit, Sam guessed, to get his own gander at the docking facilities, “ I don’t mean t’ be rude, but yer not plannin’ t’ pack nothin’ un-ice-like in what we’re packin’ out are you?”
“Hope not,” Dash chipped in, “cuz if it’s food, it ain’t likely ta make it where it’s goin’, get me? An’ if it’s somethin’ else…” he smiled faintly and offered a little shrug, letting the remainder of that though go unspoken. Jus’ don’ make me lasso this comet agin, if’n there ain’t need is all.
“Well, now, Captain San,” Willow interjected demurely, as she sauntered up with the Kid and Kora in tow, “you didn’t start discussing business without me, now, did you?” She peeked sideways up at the Captain, peering from under the brim of his hat, before extending her hand and turning the full power of her smile onto the two miners.
“I’m Willow Takahara, gentlemen. It’s my pleasure to meet you.”
Willow had her usual effect on menfolk, as Jim stopped what her was saying and stared at her in a rapturous awe. Sam finally cleared his throat and whacked him on the shoulder, ‘Jim? You’ll letting the space-bugs in.” he said pointing at his mouth.
Dash chuckled at Jim and Sam’s reaction to Willow. He’d seen it before, of course, had even had that same reaction himself when she’d first come on board (and probably more than once after that, if he told the truth about it), but he always got a kick out of seeing other folk drool all over themselves at the sight of her.
“Huh? Oh!” Jim shook his head and laughed again, “I’m a sorry ma’am, but it has been a long while since me and Sam seen a woman,let alone two and a right purdy ones at that. Welcome to our home.” He extended his hand to shake Willows and caught Wyatt’s looking at him for an answer. ’Un- ice? Oh. Oh! Sorry about that. My train plum left the station without my luggage. No sir, noting unexpected in the load, and you can come out and watch us load every box if you’d likes. If Bailey or I want you to smuggle for us, we’ll tell you and sweeten the deal.”
“Howzat, Cap,” Dash grinned, “not only is these fellas hardworkin’ prospector-types but they’s not to dull onna business end o’ things neither.
Speakin’ o’ sweetnin’ the deal, Jim-bo,” he continued, rubbing his stomach, “Hows’bout that grub? I got a powerful rumblin’ stirred up in my gullet an’, if that other boat’s grease monkey’s even half as good as our Mei mei here,” inclining his head in Kora’s direction, “ I don’ reckon they’ll be long fer showin’ up… Ma always said; better ta tussle on a full belly.
Oh hey! Wil don’ eat meat nor eggs,” the pilot’s smiled broadened as he came to that realization, “Ya don’ mind if me an’ the Kid eats yer share, do ya, Doc?”
((OOC: Had to do something to catch up! Man, what a month! Anyhoo… Dash’ll be his “usual self” at breakfast – roaming around while he’s eating (checking the airlock when he’s able, of course), reaching across the table without so much as an ‘excuse me’, licking his fingers, burping… you know the drill… heck, he may even find one of Sam’s girly mags and flip appreciatively through the pages (nothin’ like a bit o light readin’ ta help th’ digestion)… He won’t be shy about asking for a “to go” plate for Trish, either.))
Posted on 2007-05-01 at 17:26:04.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: ROFLMAO
That's ruttin' Hi-larious, Blammm-o!
As far as I know, the crew has been invited to breakfast (Trish won't come, of course, so we'll have to bring her back a "Mama Bag")...
Also, FYI... I've been capital BUSY recently and haven't had a great deal of time to devote to posting myself... hoping to load up on a pot or two of folgers this evening and getting the ones I've started finished up and tacked on to the thread. See y'all over ta Jim an' Sam's place.
Posted on 2007-04-25 at 16:23:03.
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Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Let's make this quick, a'right? We got... you say breakfast?
"Look,” Wyatt called back, drawing Dash’s gaze back from another check of the, as yet, un-occupied docking coupler, “I can't conjure up why them other folk have put burn to dock at the Lullaby, but I know why we're here an' it sure as hell ain't to jump nothin'. The other ship showed no courtesy comin' in so I can't imagine they're up to anything good. Why don't we meet face to face an' you can see what we're about? I don't fancy the idea of us standin' here in the open when they come through that hatch. What's more is you got wares t' see to, and time is a precious commodity."
“Ain’t that what I done said?” Dash grinned facetiously at his friend before looking back towards the house.
“Jim!” he heard one prospector shout to the other, “They be good. Bailey sent a wave.”
“Oh sure,” Sam smirked, “Now they get a wave. I reckon it takes a bullet er two ta get a clean connect ta the cortex out here.” There seemed to be some banter going back and forth between the two men up in the house; Dash could hear their voices but not clear enough to pick up more than a word or two every now and again… he flicked a glance back at the still unoccupied docking coupler as he waited for whatever might come next.
“…come on up gentlemen,” he heard, at last, “Your motives may be pure but I ain’t too sure about that other ship’s. We can offer you some nice, home-cooked breakfast, and coffee, as a way to make amends for our unneighborly-like stance.”
“Breakfast? Now tha’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bou…Ow!”
Wyatt gave a quick nod as though confirming what he’d already assumed would happen and smacked Sam on the arm with the back of his hand as he stepped forward. “Guess that’s Diplomacy one, Violence zero,” he said wryly as he proceeded on his way towards the prospector’s digs.
Dash grinned and offered a wink in reply. “You says tomato, I says tomahto, an’ th’ feller up yonder says mater, puhn yoh. They stopped plinkin’ at us one way er t’other, right?” He knew that Wyatt was right, of course, and that he’d probably have been better served if he’d just kept his mouth shut and let the Cap do the talking. With the way things had been going for them lately, though, Dash figured it was a good piece of luck that had actually kept him from returning fire.
“Sam,” Wyatt uttered calmly as the two approached the building. “Don’t take nothin’ fer granted, and see if you can’t check on that other airlock every once in a while. I’ll do the same, an’ I know you weren’t likely t’ doze off on me, but it needed sayin’ none-the-less.”
“Affirmative on that’n, Cap,” Dash nodded, his eyes tracking back to the airlock in question for an instant, “Jus’ cuz we’s playin’ nice wit’ these folk don’ mean I trust a gorram thing they say… I’ll be keepin’ a sharp eye til such a time as we’re off’n this ice cube.”
The fellow who met them on the porch wasn’t quite what Dash had been expecting. The guy looked like a miner, what with the dirty overalls and stained shirt and such, but he didn’t have that gruffness about him that seemed to be somehow common amongst folk as toiled in the mines…“Jim Ryan,” the man said, offering his right hand as Wyatt and Dash stepped onto the porch.
“Wyatt Sung,” the captain responded in an equally relaxed fashion.
“Dash,” Sam said, offering a nod in greeting as opposed to a handshake – Jim looked affable enough but that didn’t mean Dash wanted to hold hands with him; “Pleezdameetcha.”
“Jim,” Wyatt drawled, as they followed the prospector across the porch and into the house, “You made mention of havin’ trouble in the past with claim jumpers, so I’ve no doubt you and your partner know how to use a rifle, but I’ve got my own crew to be concerned with an’ this other ship…”
Mention of the other ship caused Dash to pause and look back towards the airlocks again, then, just for good measure, he allowed his whiskey-colored eyes to pan around the rest of the complex from this vantage point. Satisfied that the Maria Celestia, even if she had recovered from her spin-out, was likely still limping towards the comet rather than anywhere near being tied to it, Dash turned on his heel and clipped into the house to catch up with Wyatt and Jim Ryan.
“…I got me a right hungry crew,” the Cap was saying as the pilot ambled up, “an’ I’m sure they’d love some parcels of something other than protein paste for breakfast if’n you’re offering.”
“Di’ja say home cookin’?” Dash nodded enthusiastically; “Hell yeah, sign me up fer some o’ that, puhn yoh! Please tell me ya got eggs an’ sausage, Jim-bo!”
((OOC: Okay, just conversatin’ and scoping things out for the most part. Dash isn’t keen on sitting around here too long but he will cotton to a delay if there’s real food involved. If/when they do get around to eating, though, Dash will likely still be prone to wandering about while he’s munching and keeping an eye on the airlock and looking for anything “out of sorts” with the Lullabelle itself… Following orders as the Cap gives ‘em out, as well, of course.))
Posted on 2007-04-20 at 15:05:16.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Fuzzy Wuzzy willin'...
...an' th' crick don' rise; I'll be posting tonight, too. Assuming that Help Desk doesn't kill me today, of course.
Posted on 2007-04-18 at 14:13:07.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Not sure that it matters much, but...
...from where they're standing, can Wyatt and Sam hear the "conversation" between Ryan and Hawkes, at all, or just the "shouting parts"?
Like I said, I doubt their convo about the wave from Bailey will affect much but some of it might be "played upon".
Posted on 2007-04-17 at 18:40:52.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Wait... wha'd I say?
Did I actually write that Jal was going to "help Dapple with the Greens"? 
 Help Dapple, indeed...
Posted on 2007-04-16 at 22:21:14.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: No biggy...
...as far as the map goes, I was just wondering. I'm usually able to pick up a visual from your descriptions, anyway.
As to Lysk's "Kentucky" comments: In our neck of the woods Kentucky folk are stereotypically considered "inbred hillbillies" (e.g. the "bad guys" in Deliverance, Wrong Turn, etc) Instead of calling someone "redneck," "hilljack," "yukker," etc you simply wonder which holler in Kentucky they climbed out of.... Not that we really think that people from Kentucky are all like that, of course, but that seems to be the stereotype that floats around.
Posted on 2007-04-16 at 18:44:43.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Talk about a post to make a feller twitchy...
...that one'll do it! Looks as if things are about to get real interesting...
"Define interesting."
"Oh god, oh god, we're all gonna die?"
(Sorry... couldn't help my self)
Just out of curiosity, Al, did you get that map of Lullabelle scanned yet? I kinda get the impression that "lay of the land" is gonna get crucial 'fore long.
Posted on 2007-04-16 at 16:30:26.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: Aw rats! Not very "mana" options... ;)
“They will have crossbows. Small crossbows.” Dapple whispered, “Don’t get hit or the poison will take you.”
Jal had turned his eyes in the direction of the lad’s voice, prepared to acknowledge the warning, but found that his reply was lost when he saw the fading image of an old man in a uniform. It was imperial, but not army – like that of a teacher or a personal guard. Even more oddly, the man seemed to be looking directly at the invisible spellbinder, as if the spell couldn’t cloak him from the old man’s sight.
“She’ll take care of you boy,” the man smiled, “Enjoy the show.”
What in the name of… Jal blinked as the old man faded from sight, wondering if, perchance, he had been a spirit or, maybe, another of the Imperials who inhabited this place, sent on an arcane reconnaissance mission… More than that, though, Jal wondered at the man’s words. She? She who?! he wanted to scream. More than once on this assignment he had heard references made to “she”… first the bug mage… then Wynter’s cryptic message at the camp… and now this phantasmal oldster… all with tales to be told of this enigmatic “she”. Is each “she” the same as the rest or does each voice speak of someone different? Gods but I hope you are safe, Wynter, my love…
Jal tensed a bit when the pair of Greens sailed from the stairwell and, after hitting the floor with scarcely a sound, rolled gracefully to their feet. His gaze ticked to where Dapple should have been as the two Imperials stopped and tried to sense them on the air… Damn! Perhaps invisibility wasn’t the best choice pf concealment, he chastised himself upon realizing that, with the way he had cast the spell, there was now no way for he and the rogue to signal one another without giving away their positions and, even worse, he could no longer be sure exactly where Dapple might be, so any of his spells that might have proven the most useful against the Greens had to be discounted. Fireballs and lightning bolts caused to much damage (and had many strange effects in the confines of passages like this) to safely consider with the boy invisible some where in the corridor and the rest of the party hidden behind the door at which the Imperials now stood. Magic missile, in this case, would likely do little but reveal his position…
Jal’s mind worked furiously through the list of spells he could manage and, even as he struggled to find something appropriate, he realized that he was creeping as quietly as he could toward the Imperial nearest him and that he had slid his dagger from its sheath…
Are you actually considering physically attacking a Green?! The voice he heard sounded like his own but the questions tone was pure Wynter.
Yes, he answered as he crept closer, It seems to be the only choice at the moment…
The only choice where these are concerned, perhaps, but what of those on the stair?
Jal halted his advance toward the Greens and cast a curious glance at the stairway… Aye… what about the stairway? No spells of an offensive nature can be employed here without risk of catching Dapple in the effects but, maybe something can be done to slow the arrival of those still on the steps.
He didn’t know exactly where Dapple might be but, from what he’d learned of the lad, Jal was certain that the smallish rogue was likely advancing on the unsuspecting Greens himself. Jal only hoped that whatever the boy was planning would provide enough time to bring a single spell to bear and still leave both he and the rogue alive.
((OOC: Okay, if possible, Jal will try to slip into the doorway of “the operating room” – just far enough in so he can still target the stairwell with a web spell (with luck this will slow the advance of the remaining troops for a minute) and hopefully be out of the line of sight of the greens when invis dissipates. If the web spell works out, I’m afraid Jal’s going to have to jump into combat and help Dapple with the greens…))
Posted on 2007-04-16 at 13:41:42.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: ASAP
Been a busy couple of weeks for me, too... Was all set to pen a post for Jal yesterday but got swamped by work and stuff that needed done at home. Hope to have somtehing ready this weekend, though. 
Posted on 2007-04-14 at 13:56:34.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Update...
Just as an FYI...
I've done a quick update of the Cap's portrait... still might need a bit of work, yet, but I think it's a bit closer to what Brom had in mind as opposed to my original version (looks more like the Wyatt in Brom's pretty, anyhoo). Results can be seen in the characters thread and - if ya want the larger version - the links on pg 4 of this thread have been updated, too.
Oh... added a side profile pic of a Firefly to Roc's character sheet, as well... din't seem right tha' th' ol' girl wasn't represented proper, get me? That one's not my work, by the way... Might've found it on Awtry's site but I can't recall for sure... am using the larger version for my 3D modelling project.
Posted on 2007-04-11 at 01:35:50.
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Topic: Getting to know you
Subject: Fantasy is not alone!
Believe it or not, Fan, both of my daughters have that same reaction to cotton... they can't stand to handle cotton-balls for example. Always wondered if that was just them, so it's kind of cool to know that some one else is "weird like that", too.
Posted on 2007-04-10 at 18:50:46.
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Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Well, that's a fine how-d'ya-do!
“Kid’s a might broke up ‘bout not bein’ able ta come along, Cap,” Sam said as he ambled along the gantry, “Doc was right ta keep ‘im aboard, much as I hate ta say it, th’ boy’s arm din’t look good.
I reckon if that’s th’ worst o’ what we get, though,” he continued as they waited for the doors to open, “Th’ rest o’ this run oughta be… Sweet Mother o’ li’l baby Jesus!” Like Wyatt, Dash squinted against the unexpected sunlight and was so taken aback by the illusory farmstead that he actually looked back to make sure that Rocinante was still tethered at the far end of the gantry. It didn’t seem right that this bucolic scene should be floatin’ ‘round in the Black all by it’s lonesome, no matter how good that breeze felt and…Ta ma duh, are those fresh tomatoes?...
Sam realized that his hand had settled on the grips of his pistol as he strolled out into the holographic landscape. Don’t seem right, neither, that there ain’t no folk here ta meet us, he thought as his gaze panned across the prairie farm and sought out the other docking coupler. The illusion inside the dome made it impossible to see outside but, judging by the indicators on the gantry door, there wasn’t another ship tied to the other side… yet. Wonder if Griff sent a wave ta these yahoos makin’ ‘em privy as ta th’ change o’…
*Blamm…ting…thuck!*
“Dash hadn’t reacted as calmly to being shot at as Wyatt had… The pilot had skittered to the side a step or two and the Avenger was no longer nestled in the holster lashed to Sam’s thigh. Instead, it was in his hand at arm’s length; hammer rolled back, and the barrel sweeping a slow arc around the place in tandem with his narrowed gaze… (Perception>Sight roll if’n ya please… trying to see if Dash sees where these yahoos’re hidin’…)
“Hold steady, Sam,” Wyatt said under his breath.
Sam’s eyes slid sidelong towards Wyatt and took in that the Cap hadn’t skinned his own iron. Hold steady, my nethers, Dash wanted to say, Some chwen’s shootin’ at us! Despite that thought, though, he offered an almost imperceptible nod and, after a moment, tentatively lowered his pistol. “Yeah,” he breathed, still surveying the farmstead, “right…”
“WHO THE AI YAH TIEN AH ARE YOU?” a voice shouts out from the homestead.
“AND STAY OUT OF MY MATERS!” another voice calls.
“Shoot at me agin, humpface, an’ I’ll blow out yer knee an’ make ya watch whilst I piss on yer maters,” he grumbled under his breath, risking a glance in Wyatt’s direction again. Sung had let his hand drift away from his own pistol and, even though he really didn’t want to, Dash decided that actually returning the Avenger to its holster might just make negotiations go a might smoother.
He sighed, stuffed the weapon back into place on his hip, and assumed a less threatening posture of his own. “Twitchy gorram prospecters,” Dash groused before hooking his thumbs over his gunbelt and spitting in the illusory dirt…
“Name’s Wyatt Sung, an’ I captain Rocinante here,” Wyatt called back, “Picked up some containers from Griffith on Beaumonde…”
“Who ‘parently din’t have th’ wherewithal ta send a wave ahead,” Sam appended quietly.
“…Griffith an’ Royale. We were told that the Lullaby Mine had some ice that needed transport to Regina. Who’s throwing lead our way, so that I might address them that be proper…”
“I’ll address ‘em proper,” Dash smirked, still only loud enough for Wyatt’s ears to catch, “lobbin’ lead in my direction over some ruttin’ t’matoes…Chwee ni duh… Sumbitch.”
“…After all, it ain’t considered polite to keep hollerin’ less you know who yer hollerin’ at.”
There was more that Dash felt could have been added to the Cap’s end but, seeing as Dash’s brand of negotiating hadn’t really helped in the past, he kept it to himself this time. He did offer Wyatt a wry grin and an appreciative nod; “Very diplomatic of ya, Wyatt Sung,” he chuffed, “Miss Will’d be proud.”
((OOC: Keepin’ the peepers peeled, of course… If Sam happens to spot either of the prospectors, he’ll be sure to point them out to Wyatt… He’s also keeping a fairly keen eye on the other docking coupler… otherwise, following Wyatt’s lead.))
Posted on 2007-04-10 at 16:27:25.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Whooooooooo....
...them's some right fine posts ya'll done strung up, fellers!
Melted my heart when Ash called Sam "Big Brother"...  ... Sam does feel bad for the Kid, though, I promise.
An', Cap... Me? A loose cannon? Yeah... a'right... mebbe jus' a little...
Posted on 2007-04-10 at 12:48:48.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Stay outta my 'maters!!!
That's awesome!
OOPS! Almost forgot... no, the fact that a li'l fuzzy's scamperin' about ain't gonna keep Sam from wantin' to get this job done and cut loose from the comet... just wanted to let it be known I was going on the assumption that it wasn't mentioned to Sam.
Posted on 2007-04-09 at 17:23:43.
Edited on 2007-04-09 at 17:25:32 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Great...
...Mei mei's kitty-sittin'! An' here I was thinkin' that critter'd make a right fetchin' hat.
My last post goes on the assumption that neither Ash nor Kora actually said anything about there being a kitten running loose on board but there is room to work such a revelation in... backposts and edits as necessary.
Posted on 2007-04-09 at 16:35:25.
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