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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Making popcorn and selling tickets
This ought to be good!!!
Posted on 2008-10-10 at 14:23:53.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: Dapple's taking coersion surprisingly well
When Maximus’ chair gave way and dumped him to the floor, Dapple’s reflexes kicked in almost before her brain knew what her ears had heard. She’d whirled around to face Maximus, crouched low, with one dagger held by its tip and cocked to throw, the other held along her raised forearm as a brace. When he yelped and she’d had a second to register what had happened, she straightened and sheathed her daggers, snickering at the pink cloud of dust enveloping the former gladiator. Matthias’ bird squawked insults, and Dapple almost felt sorry for the big fellow. Almost.
“Beef and beer,” she pronounced drily from within her hood,” big man’s downfall.” Her hands shook slightly with the adrenaline still surging within her, and it didn’t escape her that her dagger had been aimed at Maximus’ heart. Still too slow, little monster the dead voice stilled her shaking immediately. Had there been real danger, you would be dead by now. That dust is magic, yet you didn’t see any of the mages here mutter and wave their hands about. What do you think that means?
Dwan called the meeting back to order while Dapple scowled at the significance of her thoughts. She was pretty certain she hadn’t seen anyone “casting”, as Alloryn had called it, so was someone here invisible? But Alloryn had also explained that invisibility spells were dispelled by acts aimed against others, like attacks and spell casting…
“As to you Dapple Moon,” Dwan interrupted her thoughts, “you be going for the same reason you went on the last two missions – because some people tell me you are indispensable as a team member and apparently good at those dark arts that we need not list here. No one is forcing you to go though and I have no need for you in prison. I’m sure that Fast Toes could supply me with another one better than you, and let the hobbit decide your fate.”
Dapple had been about to argue when Dwan mentioned Fast Toes, and she realized she’d been truly out-manoeuvred by the dwarf. Fast Toes had certain arrangements with the leader of Freegate, and wouldn’t appreciate Dapple being fractious without good reason. There was also the matter of the market incident. Protection money from market stall owners was a good source of income to the Thieves Guild, and one of their own had just staged a personal war in the middle to it. Maybe leaving town for a while wasn’t such a bad idea.
Dapple snarled with frustration and threw herself back into her chair with barely controlled violence. “That’s the problem with dwarves,” she tried for a light tone but her voice was strained,” unless it’s gems you’re no good at negotiating. This is where you counter with how good the reward money is, or throw a few extra potions in to sweeten the deal, not threaten to “tell on me” to my master. You already got the best, anyway.”
Posted on 2008-10-08 at 19:08:05.
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Topic: To Olan!!
Subject: Sigh...the hot tub...
Back before we had to be responsible grownups!
Here's to Olan and the virtual community here at the Tub, I mean, Inn!
Oh, and Alacrity, let's discuss Lola when you get home.
Posted on 2008-10-06 at 20:38:05.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: laughing herself silly
...my god, but you guys are good for my mental health! *wipes tears of laughter from her eyes*
Ok, so I've promised Alacrity lots of posting while I'm on vacation (translation: hiding from work) this week, so I'll write something up soon.
Posted on 2008-10-06 at 20:32:15.
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Topic: A Cold Day in Hell
Subject: Sorry, stressful week had me pinned
Blake fought a sense of growing elation when the server’s defenses started crumbling against her attacks. She knew that this only an impression, and could be formed purely out of frustration. Black tipped fingers danced over the keyboard in a rave of code writing, and finally, the screen blanked out, the unit beeped, and the contents of the root directory scrolled across the screen.
“Ha!” Blake crowed, sparing a moment to spin her chair around before remembering that she wasn’t alone in her room, working another unauthorized hack. “Sorry, boss,” she sputtered, a high point of colour on each pale cheek,” back to the job at hand!”
The tech leaned back into the monitor, scrolling through each directory, each log, each user account, but was baffled by the seeming ordinariness of it all. Peripherally, she heard the rise and fall of conversation behind her, but since it didn’t seem to involve her, she ignored it with the singularity of purpose that had made her so valuable to the military. Once launched, nothing stopped this missile.
Blake looked for anomalies; files or programs that were an odd size or type for the directory they were in, or user accounts with too much or too little activity, but that sort of thing would take a lot of time to be done properly. Fortunately, she had a sniffer program saved on her laptop, filed under “Catwoman’s Utility Belt” for just such searches, and she set it to running before moving onto another thought.
It was possible that Giles was too paranoid to keep anything on military hardware, especially if he was running something off the books. So, she looked for resources that accessed multiple network ports, and scored a win. A machine labelled “agiles” had been connected to various ports for varying lengths of time, and was presently not connected. Blake tapped out a quick re-sort command, and determined the last port used. She cross-ref’d the network schematic, overlaid the building plan on top and she knew what room to look in. (OOC: What was the system date of the last connection time? What is the current system date and time compared to our own?)
“Girlfriend’s gonna level up on these X points,” Blake crooned before turning to Kernan to translate. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand descended on her shoulder and Kernan’s voice sounded from directly above her left ear, “Good job, Chief.”
She resisted the urge to wriggle like a happy puppy, but knew a huge grin was spreading across her face. “Geez, boss, even cube dwellers need a little personal space. Scared me outta a year’s growth, ya did!”
The lanky tech rose to her feet, stretching out the kinks, and dispelling the workstation hump every coder formed if they weren’t careful. While she did so, Kernan called the others to attention and shared what she’d determined. When Kernan gave orders to move out and head to the sublevel, Blake took a moment to add a line to the sniffer program she was running, letting it resume while she picked up the rest of her gear. The laptop’s wireless modem would now ping her PDA if it was successful in it’s search.
Posted on 2008-10-05 at 23:37:38.
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Topic: Lady Vanadia's Birthday
Subject: Thank you everyone!
Sometimes, my life of travel really sucks...being away on my birthday, with a sick little one at home and eating alone in a restaurant full of happy people.
On the other hand, traveling has given me the opportunity to meet so many of the wonderful people here at the Inn...and no matter where I am, there's a table in the common room for me!
Bless you all.
@Skari: Bjork rocks!
Posted on 2008-10-01 at 01:54:13.
Edited on 2008-10-01 at 01:55:52 by Vanadia
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Topic: A Cold Day in Hell Q&A
Subject: ch-ch-changes
Sorry to hear you are stepping back, Tann, but if anyone can understand RL time constraints, it's me. That said, I'm out Sunday night for another trip, so I'll try to post tomorrow night.
So no sign of the machine labelled agiles? How about the network jack it was last connected to?
Also, whatever's controlling the place now...no trace of it in the systems? What the heckers was keeping Blake out?
Posted on 2008-09-27 at 02:38:22.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: One nice, bitter post, served up!
Q:How is Dapple like a Starbucks expresso?
A:She's dark, bitter, best taken in small shots and she'll kick you in the a** if you need it!
Posted on 2008-09-21 at 23:24:25.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: Pleasant as always
Dapple sat by herself in the corner of Dwan’s meeting hall that had become known as “her” spot. It had solid walls behind her, was well away from any direct light, and if she remained still enough, people started to forget she was there. If she could fade away into the gloom completely, life would be perfect.
She’d put on an act for Dwan and Terrin, acting sullen and disagreeable, but she was actually feeling rather smug. The last skirmish had gotten truly ugly, mostly because Dapple had been doing her level best to kill her opponent, a former-Green-turned-gang enforcer. Two fighters of that level of skill in a crowded marketplace can create a lot of collateral damage, and the city guard goons showed up to arrest everyone and sort it out at the jail. Dapple had worked her best “what me? I’m just a kid” act, but too many people pointed her out as the instigator. She was facing the loss of her equipment and a public flogging when Terrin showed up with a writ of release from Dwan. The guards had no choice to comply, though they administered one last beating before surrendering her to Terrin.
So, she’d dodged that dagger, and lived another day…now if her face would just stop throbbing. She was pretty sure her nose wasn’t broken (again), and that loose tooth would probably heal solidly again, but her eye was still healing from a previous fight and the socket ached from this fresh insult. She tried pushing away the discomfort, sending it to the icy nothingness of her soul, but it persisted. She’d been pushing herself too much, and even the dead voice within had begun to urge caution.
The others began to arrive, with Kilgim the first, as always. Dapple smiled to herself to see the bald headed dwarf, but remained where she was since Kilgim hadn’t noticed her. She’d greet the group once they’d all arrived and get the fuss over with all at once; no need to drag it out. Indeed, Char made the point moot once he arrived. He greeted the others in his quietly reserved way, but saved a special scratch under the chin for Sunset. The dragonet arched her back and chirred with enjoyment, jeweled eyes half-closed, and Dapple let the creature’s pleasure wash over her briefly, before pushing it away. To feel anything was to feel everything, and Dapple kept that door firmly locked.
Char gave her a curious look, and he winked as he realized the purple around her right eye wasn’t just another shadow. “Anudder fer da bards, eh?” he joked, and Dapple stepped out of the shadows briefly to nod to the others before sinking back into the darkness. “Killed the bards,” she responded drily, sprawling in a chair and putting her booted feet on a side table, ”Can’t leave any witnesses.”
Dwan, Terrin and Gwanelle entered the room, followed by a large man dressed to attract attention. Dapple examined him closely from within the shadow of her hood, appraising his outfit and gauging the size of his purse. If Dwan insisted that she make good on the fines levied by the market, perhaps this peacock would help her avoid dipping into her stash. The bird might be a problem, she mused, but a fist sized rock would probably chase it off.
Dwan clears his throat and begins, “Thank you to those of you who answered my call willingly.” He looks over at Dapple with an expression of annoyance, “And welcome to those who I had to pull some strings to have brought here. Incidentally, young man, bail and property damage is coming out of your share of this mission payment.”
Dapple shifted her weight irritably, her boot heels scraping the table as she did so.”Those market stalls were falling down long before I got there. You ask me, I did Freegate a favour pulling them apart. Maybe I bill you for demolition,” she glared at Dwan, giving as good as she got.
Terrin circled the room and provided drinks. When Dapple was given an herbal smelling tea, she gave him a suspicious look, expecting the worst, but sniffed cautiously. Her headache eased off, just a bit, just from the scent of the tea, so she drank it down as fast as she could tolerate the hot beverage. When the young dwarf returns with a cart of foodstuffs, Dapple takes an astonishing amount of food and eats as if she hasn’t had anything in days, pausing only to cut a spicy sausage into pieces for Sunset.
She listens, chewing, as Dwan introduces Matthias as a mage of vast power So we’ll be sure to take him from behind… and proceeds to tell them that Matthias will be joining them. How charming…another over-educated bit of fluff to look down his nose at the rest of us. Matthias’ florid toast to them didn’t change Dapple’s mind, but then, she had little use for nobles or mages, especially those that looked and talked like both.
Dwan continued on to tell them of their task, and Dapple listened in disbelief, food forgotten in front of her. The flawed history lesson on the blasted elves didn’t help her mood, and finally, she’d had enough.
“That’s a load of crap, pulled out of a bard’s arse by the pointy-ears themselves,” she rasped from her corner. “The damned elves invaded, bringing the dragons with them, and humans were lucky to survive their murderous ways. Took us long enough to pull together and kick them back over the borders, where they can practice their filthy magics on themselves.”
She drew a breath and hitched her shoulders uncomfortably, realizing all eyes were on her. “Besides, Dwan, disappearing cattle? Missing villagers? Undead warriors? Sounds like you need Kilgim and a whole church full of his bretheren to go bless the place. Maybe some “mages of vast power” to blast those that aren’t undead, but this isn’t the sort of thing you need me for. Put me back in jail if you want to, I’ll just let myself out later.”
Posted on 2008-09-21 at 20:34:39.
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Topic: Drelythinn, my world with no creatures...
Subject: It's give and take around here
First of all, welcome to the Red Dragon Inn. Have a look around, read the Terms of Service, and get to know folks...we're a friendly bunch.
We're also a helpful bunch, but you really haven't given us much to go on. Perhaps if you would describe your world, the races that populate it, the sort of terrain, etc., people may feel that they have enough information from you that they can post some ideas.
Posted on 2008-09-21 at 19:23:15.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Partially done
My one hour conference call went two and a half hours before I hung up to catch my plane....damned consultants can talk forever when they are billing hourly! 
Great post, Raven! I'm trying to work in everyone's interactions with Dapple in my post, so a question: Dapple's not that tall, compared to the dwarves, so would you try to hug the "lad", or settle for an arm clasp?
Posted on 2008-09-19 at 10:59:54.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Back in the saddle
Glad to see us off to a start...I hope I can manage a post Friday...stuck in an airport at the moment, but have a conference call between me and being able to relax 
Posted on 2008-09-17 at 20:40:47.
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Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: But, but....aw c'mon!
Willow walked alongside James, arm held against her so that he could feel her warmth through the silk of her kimono and the light wool of his suit. Most men would be distracted by it, and not think too heavily on her questions, but it seemed unnecessary….James was apparently not the thinking type. He certainly was pretty to look at though, his voice was pleasant and he had the easy charm of one confident in his looks. He’d have easily made a fine Companion, if he was half as entertaining in a more private environment, but probably would never rise much higher than a goodtime boy…he just wasn’t clever enough to be worthy of more discerning clients.
As James complained about his parents, but was vague on what he wanted to do, Willow dismissed the idea of even mentioning the Order. The glamour and money would definitely attract James, but it took hard work and discipline to achieve any rank within the Companions, and work wasn’t something James looked kindly on. As they chatted, it became clear that James would be handy enough for a “Who’s Who” in town, but wouldn’t be able to tell Willow much more. She continued to listen to him with half an ear, and making idle, semi-flirtatious banter, while she thought on what little she had learned from him.
JW was clearly the man with the most influence, both here and in the town itself. James’ parents had money and influence (because of the money), but it was unlikely that bankers would have cargo they’d need to move, and they weren’t here, in any case. Brigit remained an enigma, though James’ manner was strange. Willow recalled Brigit fawning over Sam’s injured self, then throwing herself at Asher, and thought she understood. The woman may be engaged to JW, but had a habit of using her charms on the men around her. Willow shrugged inwardly; she was hardly the one to comment on that sort of behaviour!
Everyone else in the saloon looked to be miners, with the exception of the woman at the bar. She was just different enough to catch Willow’s interest, and she asked James if he knew who she was. She stroked James’ arm lightly as she did so, making sure he felt that he was the only one she was truly interested in, despite her questions.
(Will react to his response as necessary).
As James continued to talk about himself, Willow watched the Captain and JW out of the corner of her eyes. She couldn’t hear over the low roar of a saloon full of miners, but she saw the chips change hands and the Captain move back to the bar. She tensed as the Captain ordered, but what he downed was definitely not whiskey, and she relaxed again.
Trouble was, the exchange with JW was far too short, and Willow again rued the Captain’s retiring ways. An empty ship made no money, and the credits for this job would likely go into repairs, fuel and likely a new mule. This was no way to get ahead.
“I’m not just the doctor, I’m also the only one with any business sense, I suppose, “she sighed to herself, before noticing James giving her a curious look. She smiled quickly and shook her head, leaning in close to let her fragrance tickle his nose.
“Don’t mind me, James, my love,” she laughed lightly,” being in the Black so long makes you talk to yourself. Speaking of talking, I really should give my regards to JW. Be a dear and introduce me?”
(Assuming he does, otherwise will post something different). Willow used James’ unnecessary introduction to extend a graceful hand for JW to shake. She made a few comments about how nice the town was, and how nice it was that James was escorting her. As JW started to look impatient to return to his game, she got to the point. “I know we’ve been paid for our delivery, and I thank you for the kindness. The same blockade that stopped deliveries coming in would be an equal barrier to anything leaving, hmm? Care to take advantage of our soon to be empty cargo bay?”
(Will back post to JW’s response)
“Willow, it’s time t’ return t’ the ship,” Wyatt called from the bar, his drink done. Then, as an afterthought. “There’s a wave came through for ya earlier as well. Thought you’d like t’ know.”
The former Companion looked at James, before looking to Wyatt, her face as tragic as a child being told to leave the puppy at the pet store. Badger had been an awfully long time ago, and Willow was lonely for the feel of arms around her. She had a mental flash of Sam lying in the doctor’s surgery, and suddenly, leaving James wasn’t so difficult anymore. She blinked in surprise but recovered quickly, turning to James with a look of sweet regret.
“Alas, my love,” she took both of his hands into her own and gazed into those astonishingly blue eyes,” my captain calls and I must follow. Thank you for a wonderful evening.” She brought her face close to his and gave him a kiss, one that was both light and sweet, but could have so easily deepened into more. Eyes sparkling, she touched those soft lips with her fingers, then squeezed his hand in goodbye. Before he could argue, she rose, swiftly, and glided to the captain, taking the offered elbow and nodding another goodbye to JW.
Posted on 2008-09-14 at 18:42:53.
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Topic: Noah's first birthday!
Subject: Happy Belated Birthday!
Like everyone said...I can't beleive it's been a year already! First birthdays are being celebrated, princes are being crowned, and our own William is determined to skip crawling and move straight to walking (the cat is very nervous these days).
Posted on 2008-09-14 at 17:24:45.
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Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Ummm, candy!
“Go gussy yerself up, Willow,” Wyatt responded, and turned back to the window. Willow left him, knowing he’d consider her words even if he didn’t seem to have heard them. Much of what happened between captain and doctor was unspoken, a mutual understanding between opposites.
Willow returned briefly back to Sam, where he lay under the tender mercies of the bone knitter. Sam moved restlessly in his medically induced sleep, fighting the currents of unconsciousness. The machine’s professionally pleasant voice chided him to lie still, but like the stubborn fellow he was awake, the slumbering Sam persisted. Disjointed words escaped him as he breathed, nonsensical bits that Willow attributed to the drugs, nothing more.
Stepping around the machine bent over Sam, the former Companion touched the bandages wound around the pilots head, and re-arranged them so that his eyes were no longer covered. She’s seen his twitchiness before, a sort of coiled violence that lay none too far beneath the surface, and feared what may happen if Sam awoke, alone, and couldn’t see where he was. Her slender fingers tugged at the bandages gently, and stroked Sam’s closed eyelids until the frantic movement beneath them slowed, the man slipping deeper into more restful sleep.
She picked up the folded kimono and found one of the bedrooms to change again, exchanging cotton scrubs for silk once more. Though the black and gold kimono looked traditional, it has been designed for Companions, and so could be worn many ways. Willow had worn it in the traditional style during their arrival, with the front wrapped tightly and the gold obi tied in a bow behind her, but now she refolded and drew the silk around her shoulders more loosely, so that her throat and shoulders gleamed above the fabric. The obi was rewound into a thinner length of fabric, and wrapped around Willow several times, starting high, just under the curve of her breasts, criss-crossing her waist before being tied low on her hips, the knot draped over her left hip. The effect was such that the kimono looked as if it was barely held in place by the belt, and a mere tug on the golden rope would send the silk to the floor.
Now, Willow turned her attention to her hair, finger-combing it into several rough sections, then piling the sections up onto her head into a lover’s knot. The knot was loose just a touch off-centre, with tendrils escaping to fall softly around her face and neck. The butterfly pin and cherry blossom spray held the heavy tresses in place, but again, the effect was that of imminent surrender.
Without her makeup kit, Willow could not do much about repairing the effects of the day on her face, so instead, she cleaned off much of her earlier efforts, smudging what was left of eyeliner and eye shadow artfully into her lashes and under her eyes, giving her a smoky-eyed, sultry look. She always had her lipstick with her though, folded into her obi, and she added a fresh touch of scarlet, the colour matching the peonies on the kimono.
The Companion returned to where the others were waiting, but before anyone could comment, the doctor came into the room with the prettiest young man Willow had seen in a long, long time. He was slender in a way that some young men are, and the black suit fit him as if it were painted on him by a master artist. His black hair was glossy, setting off his pale chiselled features beautifully and his blue eyes sent warmth flooding through her. He was a delightful confection of a man, all spun sugar and dark honey, and Willow remembered how hungry she was.
He said something as he entered, something about evening and birds and the Alliance, but Willow scarcely heard, watching his lips move and wondering what they’d feel like on her skin…they looked soft and warm. He caught sight of her and his own words faltered. He came over to her as if drawn by her gaze, and Willow turned her face to him as a flower seeks the sun.
““I have never had a dream come true before, until now,” he said, and Willow’s smile became fixed in place as she remembered how spun sugar, while tasty, wasn’t always satisfying. She searched his face, seeing sincere admiration, smug assurance in his own charm, and a profound lack of depth beneath those gorgeous blue eyes.
“Merciful Buddha,” she breathed, as it was clearly expected of her to be impressed,” I’ll bet that line works wonders with all the girls around here,” she continued lightly. When Blake’s face registered shock and confusion, Willow felt almost sorry for the boy. She reached with delicate fingers and touched his face, marvelling at its softness. “Don’t worry, love, I don’t mind”, she breathed gently, her voice curling around him, “you’ll do just fine.”
She bridged the gap between them and slipped her arm into his, looking as if she belonged there. She cocked her head at the captain and smiled sweetly at him, lowering her lashes in a slow wink. “You don’t mind if I switch partners for this part of the dance, do you, Captain-San? James here is going to tell me all about himself, and how much people around here look up to him, aren’t you, honey?”
“All right, Mr. Blake,” Wyatt drawled, not even batting an eye at Willow’s seeming capriciousness. “I appreciate your message-bearing skills an’ all. Now, might ya be willin’ to impress me something more by tellin’ me where ol’ J.W. is?”
As the group left the doctor’s, Blake holding Willow by the arm, Willow began talking with the boy, asking questions and seemingly enthralled by the answers. Anyone listening would initially think she was merely flattering the young man, but she was adept at getting him to talk about JW, Brigid, his parents and even the few Tong he’d encountered in his sheltered life.
Posted on 2008-09-07 at 17:27:20.
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Topic: Good D&D Novels of the Last Decade?
Subject: Berating? Message to Innat 999
Not meaning to hijack this thread, but this is a moderated site, and we have a reputation for being relatively flame-free because of it. I had a look at the post in question, the other person's response to it and didn't really see any issue with either person's comments. If you faced undue criticism because of it elsewhere, and it's making you hesitant to participate, do let one of the moderators know and we'll...you know, moderate 
Posted on 2008-09-07 at 15:02:42.
Edited on 2008-09-07 at 15:03:04 by Vanadia
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Laughing out loud
I'm not sure which is more entertaining...the game or the running commentary here
I hope to post before Alacrity does...just need to fight the urge to fall asleep as soon as William does....zzzzzz
Posted on 2008-09-05 at 17:46:27.
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Topic: A Cold Day in Hell Q&A
Subject: Welcome Utan!
Olan, when you post, please provide our positions, I'm afraid I'm a little lost, and am not sure where Charlie is.
Posted on 2008-08-31 at 13:05:50.
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Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Working girl
Willow noted Wyatt’s look and glided over to join him by the window, her posture as erect and graceful as it had been first thing this morning. Truth be told, it had been a long, stressful day already, and it wasn’t over, not by a long shot. Before Companion training, Willow would have pressed the heels of her hands into her closed eyes and rubbed at the tiredness, but she settled for concealing a small yawn under the pretext of letting her hair down and shaking it out. In the surgical scrubs, glossy raven locks pooled on her shoulders and tumbling down her back, Willow looked almost childlike, green eyes watching her captain.
“None of this is proper, Willow,” Wyatt spoke low, the deep tones more felt than heard. “It just don’t sit right with me, and that sticks in my craw. It was JW that allowed us to hide in his shadow burnin’ atmo, and it’s his pretty plaything that holds our meal-ticket once we land. Then we got the two Ludlows: one on the comet an’ the other here in town. We’re too bloody close to the Cheong Bao Ho Tze Alliance fer my taste, we’ve the Ung Jeong Jia Ching Jien Soh Tong workin’ under the sway of a shepherd wantin’ to meet with you—an’ I gotta be honest, Willow. I’m not too fond of that particular idea none either. I already allowed Sam t’ go off on his own an’ git all full of holes…
“To boot, I don’t have nothing lined up for the turn around—haven’t had the Ta Ma Duh time with all the bullets flyin’. We need some answers. How do you feel ‘bout doin’ a little snoopin’ while Sam an’ Wolf recover? You, me, an’ The Kid?”
‘Captain-san, let’s not look for more trouble than what’s staring us in the face. The Tong have no reason to interfere with us, I’m sure tomorrow’s visit is a courtesy, nothing more. Believe it or not, there are some people who like to spend time around me,” she dimpled momentarily before continuing in a serious tone.
‘What worries me is that we’ll have miners showing up to unload contraband that’s not been paid for, and the lone person there is a recluse with a pink shotgun, and no qualms about using it. We need to get this straightened out with JW. If that means snooping before dark, that’s what we do.”
Willow started to turn away, thinking to get back into her “public” appearance of kimono and formal hair, but turned back with a mischievous smile. “Now, Captain-san, by snooping, you do mean “be very visible and girly and draw every eye in the place so no-one notices you and Asher looking around and having quite conversations”, don’t you?”
Posted on 2008-08-29 at 03:49:44.
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Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Willow pretends to be a tough guy
With JW’s men, and the concerned crew of the Rocinante pitching in, the injured men were set carefully on the mule for transport to the doctor’s house. At the doctor’s request, Willow climbed aboard the mule, one hand lifting the kimono free of her feet, and settled between the two semi-conscious men. She touched them gently, stroking hair off the face here, settling an arm more comfortably there, and gave Fenris an encouraging smile.
Moving through the Tong’s courtyard may have been tense, but many of the people there bowed to the doctor, and no one impeded their way. When a younger version of Revered Grandfather came to the door and watched them pass, Willow felt his eyes linger on her. She did her best “Bollywood regal” pose, head high, profile sharp in the sunlight, eyes flashing, then darting away demurely, then returning to his, challengingly. He may have noticed Wyatt, Asher and Fenris, but it was Willow he’d remember, if she had anything to do with it. It was one of the little ways she was useful to the Captain, and she did like to help.
As the injured men were moved into the surgery, Willow stopped dead and stared in wide-eyed wonder at the equipment she’d never seen out of a medical catalogue. Maybe the facilities above Ariel had such largesse, but Willow had never gotten near it.
“Oh, doctor,” she breathed, low and sweet, “you do have all the pretties! JW sure does like his men healthy and happy…”While she’s gaping at the 3D imager, the doctor shoos everyone not bleeding or burnt out of the room. He starts to pull on gloves, holding a pair out to Willow, but stops when he looks up to see her standing between him and Sam’s prone form, a determined look on her lovely face.
“Now that we are alone, or close enough for my purposes, it is time to come clean, Doctor. Back outside the bank, you asked me to triage, not trusting your legs, or some such nonsense. “
Willow wasn’t used to challenging authority figures openly, but perhaps Wyatt was rubbing off on her a bit. It still didn’t help that she looked like a kitten standing up to a mountain lion. “Truth is, doctor, you were lying to me, and I’ll not let you lay so much as a finger on these men until I know why, dohn-ma? ”
The Doctor looked at Willow for awhile, neither smiling nor seeming upset. After what seemed like an eternity, he said, “Miss Willow. I was made Chief of Surgery of St Lucy’s on Ariel because I thought I was a gifted surgeon. Turns out, I was more gifted as an administrator than a surgeon, because I slowly stopped doing surgery and started shuffling papers. That’s why Mary and …” He trails off and clears his throat, starting again, “When I saw that explosion, I pictured many people wounded and dead, many of which I hold dear and that … well that scared me. I have not faced a medical emergency as key op for well over 17 years. Now, the situation wasn’t as grave as I suspected, and I feel that can help your friend, with your assistance of course. If you feel that you can not trust me, then my home is yours and I will leave you to save your friend.”
Willow’s expression softened as the doctor told his story. His words weren’t in as much conflict with his body language before, but Willow hadn’t heard everything. She was sure of that, but she wasn’t getting the “bad client” vibe she’d been trained to trust. She stepped closer, as if drawn by his words, and tilted her head to look at the doctor, who was staring at the floor as he spoke.
‘Who’s Mary, Doctor?” she asked softly, her voice barely a whisper. Maybe now she was about to touch the source of pain she’d heard when they’d first met.
“My wife,” The Doctor replies quietly, “She’s gone now, some ten years ago. Something in the air here didn’t agree with her and she died shortly after we settled here. Funny, she wanted to stay on Ariel and I wanted to come here because maybe I could …well, I wanted to be a doctor again.”
“She must have loved you very much,” Willow said simply, “I am sorry for your loss.” She paused for a moment, before becoming brisk. “Well then, best we get started on these men. May I trouble you for a set of scrubs? The sleeves on this,” she waved dismissively at the elegant kimono,” are trouble in the ER.”
Accepting the surgical scrubs from the doctor, Willow turned her back and slipped the surgical pants on up under the kimono, changing with the nonchalance of someone who wasn’t ashamed of the human body, but with some modesty for the doctor. The kimono slid away, revealing a smooth expanse of creamy skin, the delicate knobs of her spine undulating as she moved, and the sweet, sacred nape of the neck was exposed briefly as Willow bent her head to pull the surgical tunic on. She folded the kimono with a few crisp, practiced flicks of her hands, and set it aside.
The doctor had used the time to examine the bank teller himself, and Willow nodded when she saw electrical leads in the doctor’s hands. She glided forward to help cut away the teller’s shirt so that the contacts could be set on the man’s chest. “The medcomp should be able to regulate his heartbeat, give the heart time to heal from its shock,” Willow stated, moving on to examine again the electrical burns covering his face and hands. “Shall I start with the dermal mender, doctor?”
“No, I can manage that once I get the medcomp programmed with Albert’s stats. You get started on that young fella of yours,” the doctor replied.
Willow whirled around to return to Sam’s side, where he was mumbling to himself, drifting on the ragged shore of consciousness. “Let’s see what you’ve done to yourself now, Sam dear,” she murmured as deft hands cut away his shirt and sawed through the straps of the ballistics vest. She lifted the vest clear of Sam’s chest and was shocked to see just how many bullets were embedded in the vest.
“Merciful Buddha, Sam! There’s got to be an easier way to fool me into giving you mouth-to mouth!” she continued to speak to Sam as she worked, her tone playful, but her expression serious. Nearly every bullet impact on the vest had a corresponding bruise on Sam’s chest, but the vest was badly warped along one side. When Willow bent to look at where that part of the vest would have been on Sam (brushing away Sam’s hand from where it had found her bottom with a distracted “behave!”) she saw a deeper bruising and a misalignment of the ribs. Removing the vest had caused Sam to breathe easier, but he was still having a hitch of pain with every inhalation, and Willow knew those ribs were broken.
“You must have a bone knitter amongst all these toys, doctor?” Willow asked, and was directed to one of the cabinets. She set the unit over Sam’s chest, positioned so she could still get at his bullet wounds, and started the NewTech Osteografting unit. It started purring like a mechanical housecat, and the doctor joined her at that point, Morgan resting comfortably on the other bed.
The two were able to make short work of Sam’s remaining wounds, and he too, moved into a deeper state of rest as the pain meds starting working. If the doctor wondered why Sam’s face was bandaged, he didn’t comment.
Posted on 2008-08-20 at 03:07:38.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: LOL
Mutter away. dear heart  I know Al wondered whether he should keep writing his post or stop and give you guys a chance to react, so if you don't have anything coming to mind, it shouldn't really matter. I'll be posting something...right after i send my resume out and attend to other mundane matters
Posted on 2008-08-19 at 18:41:27.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: "Da Moon being Da Moon"
Posted my own conclusion....Dwan will have to pull me out of barfight (or jail) for our next adventure, but that just makes me easier to find, right?
Posted on 2008-08-17 at 14:38:38.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: Back to the same old, same old
The journey back was quiet, for a change, with none of the hearty self-congratulation and relieved satisfaction of an adventure ended well, the sort of warm fuzzies that Dapple would avoid. For the adventure had not ended well; Jal was dead, and left behind, Alloryn slumbered so hard as to seem dead, and the mage who’d tried to kill them looked dead, herself.
In a way, it was almost too quiet a journey. Time Dapple would have spent grumbling about the noise and high spirits were free to spend thinking. Thinking on revenge, and redemption, and of dying alone.
Everyone dies alone, whispered the dark voice within her, What matters is whether you die before or after accomplishing what you set out to do. Sapphirine died at the hands of Greens, and you need to be stronger and harder if you are to kill enough Imperials
“I have no idea how many is enough,” muttered Dapple quietly and Sunset raised her head from where she lay coiled in the thief’s lap. Little jewelled eyes looked up into stone grey ones and the little dragonet gave a whirring chirrup, a sound Dapple had come to recognize as a sort of dragonish purr.
The crippled pseudodragon had sought out Dapple as they’d searched the ruins, and battered the rogue with frantic wings and a flurry of images of a green woman and Alloryn. It had seemed that the inner battle between Arien’s sister and the entity possessing her had been too “noisy” for the little empathic dragon to bear, and she’d hid. Gradually, Dapple had gotten the creature to calm down, “pushing” her own mantra of ice and nothingness in her thoughts. She had no idea of Sunset could “hear” it, but she’d finally calmed enough to climb into Dapple’s hood, coiling her scarred tail around her neck.
Back in Freegate, Dapple accepted her reward wordlessly, baring her teeth at Terrin as she tucked the heavy sack away and slipping out before anyone other than Char had thought to say goodbye. First order of business was to deal with the coin. It was heavy, and there was so much of it. Dapple lived simply, and didn’t have fancy armour to repair or a horse to feed, but it was hers and hard-earned at that. Her first stop was a hidden little temple of WeeJas, a crooked building in a bad part of town. Favoured by the poor and the thieves of Freegate, the priests didn’t look closely at the worshippers as they chanted at the feet of the statue of the goddess. The statue depicted her as clad in rich garments and fine furs, but with bare feet and ragged hair, showing how quickly luck could turn.
Dapple surreptitiously dropped coins in several offer-boxes around the room, a few here, as few there, until she’d given a full tenth of her take. She wasn’t a religious person, but she’d had her share of bad luck in life starting with being born and was determined to keep on WeeJas’ good side. She stopped by the statue, tweaking the image’s toes as any good thief would do. Tithing done, she slipped away from the choking incense and found the pawnshops on Brokedown Lane.
Here she looked through the scattered detritus of shattered lives, finding some decent gems and other bits of jewelry among the junk. She haggled sharply and counted out the coins carefully as if each one was her last, but after a few shops, she’d converted about half the gold to a more manageable (i.e. hidable) number of good gemstones, and had a fair amount of more usable silver pieces.
Then there was Fast Toes, the head of the Freegate thieves’ guild. After hiding the gems around her home in the abandoned building, the little thief padded down to the bar that fronted the thieves’ guild. Fast Toes was too busy to see her (and that spoke volumes on how much her status fell whenever she disappeared on these little side trips) so Dapple left her dues (another tenth of her take) with the hobbit’s second, Fingers.
The bar was crowded and Dapple had to elbow her way through to order a drink, a pint of dark she’d nurse while listening to the news of the city swirling around her. A big burly fellow she didn’t recognize pushed back, and Dapple sighed inwardly. Gone for a few short days, she’d have to fight her way back up the food chain, and quickly, or resign herself to losing territory and the sweeter jobs.
“Watch it, yobbie,” she growled menacingly,” A guy can’t get a drink around here wit’ yer fat arse inna way!” As the man responded with a slow and high punch, his ham fist almost bigger than her head, Dapple ducked inside his reach and hammered his ribs with three quick blows, hearing the snap of broken bones on the third blow. As the crowd cleared a small circle around them, wagers in the air, Dapple stepped back to be able to bring her feet into play, should her opponent not realize how badly outclassed he was, and grinned her shark’s grin. It would be brutal and ugly, but this sort of struggle Dapple understood, and relished. It was a clean, uncomplicated violence that didn’t allow time for brooding, and she threw herself into it with complete fearlessness. As always, she fought as if she didn’t care if she lived or died.
Posted on 2008-08-17 at 14:30:50.
Edited on 2008-08-17 at 14:31:17 by Vanadia
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Topic: Micheal Phelps Human or Fish??
Subject: Phelps
It has been awesome to watch this young man compete, and to learn his story. I don't think his success is due to doping, but a laser like focus on his goals.
He has been in a specific coaching program since he was 11, and he had his first world record at 15. Combine that with a body built for swimming (size 16 feet? C'mon, those are flippers), a technologically advanced suit and some of the best training facilities in the world, and you've got a heck of an athlete.
What I have also noticed is that he is happy for his wins, but in a quiet, accepting way. It's as if the wins are the only logical conclusion to such hard work.
Posted on 2008-08-17 at 13:51:47.
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Topic: Limited usage
Subject: Your news
I am so sorry to hear of your loss. Don't try to rush "getting over it", it will hurt for a while. I know you have a good circle of friends and family, so you won't lack for hugs, but here's a virtual one from me *hugs*
Posted on 2008-08-16 at 20:44:06.
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