View Full Version : HITB: Sam West's Prelude

2007-12-21, 06:32 PM
This is the IC roleplaying thread for two_many_tamale to roleplay Sam West, in a short prelude before he joins the rest of the Hole in the Black crew.

tamale, whenever you're ready, you can set the scene as to where Sam is, what's his condition, how long it's been since the mutiny, etc. If you could shed a little light on what happened during the mutiny and how he got away and what planet he's on, that'd be even better.

2007-12-21, 08:25 PM
And goddammit, I forgot to ask you for your email again. I can't do three PMs a day from each player. I'm already halfway over my limit, haha. So if you're going to be sending me anything that I might have the slightest inclination of keeping (anything more than a paragraph really) please send it through email.

[email protected]

But, ohh, do I hate hotmail.May I suggest Gmail? Free and clean and efficient, at least from what I and my 3 gigs of RAM can tell.

I'll have access to Excel by about JanuaryDoes that mean you'll have a better computer too?

So tell you what, I'll PM to your e-mail from now on, and when you reply, the replies will go to my PM inbox, right? Everybody wins!Sure. In the meantime, I'll just post responses here.


I don't know how hardcore you are about realism, but the compound barrels are purely to control the heat buildup in a gun, and thus a single barreled weapon is going to be more vulnerable to overheating. In an environment as cold as space, that could easily mean that the gun's parts could warp, crack, or suffer some other catastrophic failure from cooling too rapidly. If its contained within the hull, there's also the risk that the ammunition could cook-off as well, which is a very scary experience. I'm saying this purely for fun-factoid purposes and just in case you ever want to spice up a shipborne battle that's going too smoothly :smallwink:Yeah, I spent about three hours yesterday reading up on tons of crap, from the weight of the Bofors 40mm ammo (just under two pounds, from all counts) to the difference between tonnage and displacement, to the average tonnage and displacement of USS frigates/destroyers/cruisers/battleships/carriers/etc. I ended up reading a lot of history on WWII battleships and their armaments. The Bofors 40mm was quite the gun, and it had a 120 ROF with no problems, so I figured technology would allow an autocannon to double that in five hundred years.

Also for diversity's sake, in addition to fire-and-forget guided missiles, there are also plenty of other missile targeting methods currently in use, and each has to be handled differently. Wiki the following, if you ever want an enemy with off-the-wall armament:

TOW missile
Kinetic Energy MissileYep, read about that too. Semi-active, beam-riding, and wire (TOW) are all methods that rely on the launching ship or a radar base to guide the missile, hence "command-guidance," which I want to avoid with the ceptor. Wikipedia doesn't know what Kinetic energy missiles are, but infrared is simply a type of fire-and-forget, used by older missiles like the Sidewinder. AMRAAMs now use their own built-in radar systems once they get close to the target. I imagine 500 years in the future, desperation missiles like the one your ceptor will have will be completely fire-and-forget and quite good at their job.

In addition, countermeasures include

Aluminum Chaff
Thermal Flares
ECM ("jammer")
radar decoy (aka "Crybaby" in the show)I'll read about these later. I just remember some flight simulator I played a long, long time ago where there were two types of chaff, a thermal one and some other kind.

And finally, here's the latest draft of Sam's sheet. I thought I remember it being that you could get an equivalent of an extra d8 worth of skill points if you had an uncompensated major complication, right? That's where the "Covert" came from, and if that's unsat, then I'll take it off, bring down Branded to a minor, and put in Mean Left Hook.

Sam (http://www.coyotecode.net/profiler/view.php?id=2424)I don't think Sam's situation with a rebel group would cause him to be Branded (major), but (minor) works. And an uncompensated minor trait is worth 40 points, while an uncompensated major trait is worth 80.

But more importantly, I'm concerned about your stats. Your points are absurdly concentrated in four skills. I would suggest leaving Interceptor and High Speed Maneuvering (ACM is a specific term that I don't think is descriptive enough or even accurate enough for our purposes) at d12+d2 at most, and using the remaining 100+ points to round out your character. After all, he's no good at anything. I mean, besides man-to-man combat "ineffectiveness" (6 hit points, no athletics/dodge, no guns or melee or unarmed), he can't cook, he doesn't play instruments or have any hobbies apparently, he's got no Discipline, or Perception, he can't Survive anywhere--he's not very realistic, all in all.

I would suggest reading through more of the official rulebook. If you can unrar files, here it is:


Ya Ta Hey!
2007-12-21, 09:35 PM
((Sho' thing. Anchors aweigh))


It feels good to wear something that actually covers his ass, for once.

Sam returns a clipboard of densely-typed outprocessing paperwork to the snippy hospital receptionist and picks up his personal effects, a hat and a worn leather jacket, thus completing his discharge from care.

"Mr. West?" The receptionist asks.

Sam leans on the desk. The doctor kept him an extra two weeks, mistrusting Sam's ability to avoid reinjury on his own. "You know. You guys really can't stand to see me go, can you?"

"Oh, not at all! We're..." the receptionist coughs politely "...very thankful for your release." She hands him a letter from her inbox. Sam sits down in the fully furnished reception area, complete with obligatory wailing baby, and begins to read.

"Hell no..." Its from his former crew. He alternates between reading and swearing incredulously for the next few minutes.

Sam left his ship on bad terms, being ousted from command in a torrent of bullets after a crew meeting went horribly wrong. His disagreements have a way of ending like that anyway, but also, that issue had been one very close to heart for everyone, and Sam took the wrong side.

He's reasonable. He can admit that hiring a group of people who all share the same conflict of interest was, to be blunt, asking for it. He might even have looked back on it and laughed someday, but now they went and made it personal.

The letter is printed on nice, expensive paper, which Sam heedlessly rumples with his tightening grip. Its signed by his first mate, but Sam can recognize input from every member and far from smoothing things over, the letter loftily declares the crew's willingness to forgive Sam!

It turns out that Sam's great wrongdoing is in returning fire. The backhanded concessions continue: The crew grants him permission to keep the fighter he escaped with but then asserts their ownership of the Swartzwulf and all of Sam's worldly assets, the whole time talking down to him with a sighing undertone of wronged heroism about how he brought this on himself by obstructing their rightful duty.

Finally, his first mate has the nerve to close by bidding him a warm goodbye. The woman who had played him like a trumpet nearly to his excruciating demise, well she sunnily signs off, glossing over the backstabbing with a high note. Toodle-loo!

Goddamn browncoats.

((Also, Sam (http://www.coyotecode.net/profiler/view.php?id=2424)

So I just now the PM reply here in the thread. You really have read up! ))

Ya Ta Hey!
2007-12-22, 05:28 PM
Muttering to himself, Sam marches across the sweltering spaceport tarmac to where a formidable starfighter is erratically parked. He squeezes into the cockpit, stuffing the letter into his pocket when he notices how expansive the ruddy brown stains are on the seat. Its amazing that he was still conscious and flying after losing so much blood...

"Oh, it's not goodbye, Jaqueline." he breathes quietly, batting away at switches on the console. "Not by a damn sight."

That's when the first warning light appears, a little lightning bolt symbol to indicate something fubar in the electrical system. Maybe Sam is lucky and the warning light is the problem or something, and its lighting up to warn him--but that would mean its working properly.

Another light pops up, this time in a different electrical grid.

"You gotta be kidding me."

Two more follow, one of them in cockpit electrical grid--a warning light problem, har-har. Sam has seen enough, and brandishes a screwdriver. Maybe if he...

A few minutes later, Sam is back out on the tarmac, glaring at the smoke fumes belching through the Antihero's open canopy as fire crews pack up their gear and a tow arrives to drag it to the shop. The ship is his livelihood, so ship trouble means necessarily means wallet trouble. He angrily combs a hand through his hair in thought; his main one is 'today could not be any worse.'

Sam turns at a heavy clap on his shoulder. Its the repair estimate.

"You know where a guy could get a loan?" Sam asks after a moment.

(( Take it away! He just got out of the hospital, and here he is looking for loan sharks already. My word.))

2007-12-22, 06:50 PM
+2 PP (Sam) for good roleplaying and setting up the story nicely.

Your skills need to be fixed--Advanced skills (or Specialties) start at d8. You don't start over at d2 for a specialty, it builds on the base skill. So having a d8 in a specialty is marginally (d8 vs d6) better than only having its base skill, not an entire d8 of improvement. So Mechanical Engineering/Repair and Unarmed combat/Boxing need to be fixed. Also, ME/Repair is no longer a skill (please read my Game Rules section in the OP of the main thread).

The mechanic frowns and opens his mouth, ready to give you a good talkin-to. He stops himself, luckily, and wearily leads you to his office, a beaten little building off the side of the tarmac.

"Look, I ain't tryin to be the bad guy here," he begins as you walk. "I c'see ya been in some... physical trouble, but da don't mean I can afford to put parts inna ya ship fa free."

He eyes you for a moment as you enter the grimy room. "I know a guy startin out on de moon, does repair work on anythin gots a motor. He may be able t'help ya, cause I don't deal widat barra'd money." He scribbles the contact information down on a piece of paper and hands it to you.

"Yuri might be able to get you and ya raptor there too. Talk to him first. Ya raptor can stay in the hangar for anotha week." And with that, he leads you out the door.

Ya Ta Hey!
2007-12-23, 12:17 AM
[I]+2 PP (Sam) for good roleplaying and setting up the story nicely.

Sa-weet, thanks! Let me know if I go overboard with the film-noir flavor.

I'd like to spend one to find "a guy who knows a guy" or my other favorite, an "ad in the Yellow Pages" who could loan Sam the money he needs. Unless I didn't understand right and Yuri himself is willing to put the repair on Sam's tab, in which case, I'm all for that.

Also, ...Sam? (http://www.coyotecode.net/profiler/view.php?id=2424). Looks like I spent more than I needed on ME and Boxing to begin with, so I put the leftovers into Perception, or something.

The spaceport commons is an apt snapshot of the city itself, a crumbling, crowding husk where half of the amenities say "out of order". Sam bumps and jostles his way through the riotous sea of surgical-masked travellers, making a face at each watery cough he hears. Nice to know that everyone is feeling one hundred percent today.

He almost wishes for some forensic gloves when he reaches the public comm-booth and selects the least damaged reciever, which has been thoughtfully armored in a thick sheet of neo-facist stickers. As this planet is thought of as the "Gateway to the Core" due to its strong job market for immigrants, every little dirtbag special interest group that ever got kicked out of the YMCA comes here to fish for supporters, or at least an addition to the coin jar.

Reminding himself to wash his hands immediately afterwards, Sam dials in, and then concisely explains his situation to the voice on the other end...

2007-12-27, 12:39 PM
The man who picks up the phone on the other end has a slight Sino-Russian accent. When you explain the make and model of your ceptor and what it was that needs repairing, you read off the port mechanic's notes to him.

"Hmm, whot you're listing... you need many new parts, and not the problem, but the problem, the problem is the mahney, correct? The problem which is why you are coming to me? Well what use are you? What you base from? I mean that, who you intercept for? How you make the mahney to pay?"

Ya Ta Hey!
2007-12-27, 07:10 PM
Sam doesn't miss a beat. "Well, Yuri, you gotta understand that this kinda hit me at a bad time--"

"Don't tell me; you 'between jobs'?"

Sam can practically hear him smirking on the other end and knows that he needs some fast talking to save this deal. "No! Well...yeah, but its not like it sounds. I've been flying for the freighter Swartzwulf for the past five years and our association just recently ended. I have a letter right here saying how much the commander regrets losing me..."

That's one way of putting it.

"Look, don't you go thinking that I can't earn this back; I have six recorded victories logged under this fighter's registry, all legit. Hell, if I were in the armed forces, that'd make me a decorated ace by now! If it came down to it, you could do worse than have a guy like me on your staff."

"Of course." Yuri grouses, smirk none diminished.

"I'll scratch together a down payment, how about that? If you pick up the Antihero in few days, I'll have it for you."

Yuri sighs. "All I can say is, when pickup lands for you, be sure that--"

"Complementary airtime expired. Thank you." an automated voice interrupts, followed by dead silence. Sam stares hard at the phone, suddenly realizing why most of them are broken. He tries fruitlessly to find another available terminal for five minutes, when it becomes clear that any chance of salvaging some good closing comments is history. His only hope for mending fences now is to come up with a very generous down payment

Sam spends the rest of the afternoon with a phonebook, looking for potential quick odd jobs. Finally, much to his distaste, he turns to the private investigation firms. He still has most of his former licensing, and he remembers his old man hiring temps from time to time. It would be a tough sell to convince someone to take him on for a week, but not impossible if he settles for one of the seddier, cheater-beater joints . Tearing out the page, he heads for the address of the nearest and most promising hole in the wall establishment.

2007-12-28, 06:10 PM
The grimy bar Sam finds himself in has but one patron, off in a dark corner nursing a drink and watching commercials on a TV. Dimly lit and awkwardly small, the room seems to be filled with a drowsy air penetrated only by the bright jingle of the lovebot ads. The bartender is wiping the counter, and seems not to notice that business has just doubled.

Upon approaching the bar, Sam finally attracts the man's attention. Continuing to wipe the surface, the bartender looks Sam up and down, and doesn't miss the paper clutched in Sam's hand.

"We're closed," he says detachedly. "Renovations." He waves his hand in a meaningless gesture, obviously having decided long ago that putting effort into making up lies wasn't worth it.

Ya Ta Hey!
2007-12-28, 06:45 PM
Sam plays along. "I'm handy. Suppose you hire me to help clean house for a few days?"

He should have known better than to bother with drinking establishments, but Sam can't afford to be choosy right now. Already, he is mentally rehearsing his schpiel for the detective agency nearby if this falls through.

Okay, now I'm willing to spend the other point for a job/plot hook for the next couple of days.

Unless this is really freeform and I can just write that in whenever I want. I didn't want to overstep my rights.

2007-12-28, 08:46 PM
The bartender runs his tongue across his teeth.

"You clean? What do you clean with?"

Ya Ta Hey!
2007-12-29, 04:33 AM
"You clean? What do you clean with?"

"Extreme prejudice." Sam grins coyly.

The bartender rolls his eyes, looking like he's about to summon some unseen bouncer.

"Seriously though, I hate dirt; it only takes a little to ruin your image with, say, a dozen people whose opinions might figure prominently in your future." Sam continues, extending his hand. "Can I assume that I've piqued your interest, Mr...?"

Note that that term 'clean' just means mitigating a legally messy situation. Rooms and leftovers is a lot closer to his original job, which was the sense that he meant it.

2007-12-29, 03:17 PM
The bartender is stony-faced, and ignores Sam's meaningless words. He asks again, "What do you clean with?" and looks slowly and deliberately at Sam's belt, side to side.

Ya Ta Hey!
2008-01-11, 11:35 PM
OOC: Sorry, this took way too long. I won't do that again without a good reason.

Sam lifts his jacket for a clearer view of his empty belt and suspenders.

"Sorry, I don't wear my tools unless I know I'll need them." He says in the most even voice he can manage, the one reserved for answering whether a dress makes someone's butt look big and giving official police statements (in that order of importance).

"Is that something we can work around, or should I go mop floors somewhere else?"

* * *
Back at the Spaceport...

Once again, I hope this is what you mean by freeform. If this is overstepping things, just let me know and I'll edit it out. It's looking like the Hole is going to be tasked with retrieving this ship anyway, so I thought this would make it fun for the more action-hungry on the 'Hole's crew.

This entire development is predicated on page 100-ish of the game manual, where it says that private ownership of missiles is a no-no in the Core. Also, Sam should probably be a somewhat high priority criminal because of the ID theft (I should have changed that Branded to Dealy Enemy).

One problem with combat ships is that its so hard to build a functional one without it becoming too conspicuous to miss. Its a wonder that a ship like this head-turning "Antihero", with unobscured missile racks and an imposing 40mm, has even lasted this long in the Core.

"Who's this ship registered to?" the Arms and Substance Control Agency officer askes with that intimidating breeziness they must teach at the academy, as he garnishes his notes with the Antihero's official name: GSC-L-6944.

"I danno. Looks like phony paperwohk anyway." the spaceport mechanic raps the back of his hand against the clipboard. "I ain't never heard of a 'Dyson' ship manufactura, and there's absolutely nuttin built in that looks old enough to fit this model year. There's blood all over the cockpit, by the way."

"Oh, nice." The officer bobs his eyebrows, scratching away at his notepad. "Not yours, right?"

"No way."

"Good. We'll get that tested and see what comes up, but if the guy comes back, you need to call us immediately or else you could end up being considered an accessory, understand?" The officer shouts over a sudden, blaring whine:

A hydralic jack closes a bulky restraining boot over the fighter's foreward landing gear, which another officer attacks with a bolter. The mechanic winces as the handheld mass driver rams six steel rods through the foot of the boot and into his shop floor, which immediately sprouts a series of spiderweb cracks from the sudden stress. That fighter isn't going anywhere without a lot of persuading...

"Thanks for reporting this." The officer smiles tautly, slapping a special crime scene lock through the personnel door, while the heavy bay door groans shut on its own.

"Yeah, sure." the mechanic grumbles.

2008-01-12, 05:57 AM
I'm really looking forward to when Sam meets the rest of the crew. At that point, I can finally show the other players this thread, and have them read it and use it as the prototype for excellent roleplaying and the type of writing I'm looking for. It's almost not fair you're a great writer with great ideas, but here's another +1 PP (Sam) for an excellent plot device.

By the way, what planet is this? I had intended for this just to be Persephone, makes it easier for the plot. The crew can come back with the floats, drop em off and head over to the city you're in.

The bartender eyes Sam for a pause, then takes a step to the side. He jerks his head in the direction of the doorway he was previously blocking. "Tell 'em you're new. A new cleaner."

The doorway leads to a dark corridor, bathed in red light. At the end of the corridor Sam finds a closed door. If Sam knocks, a voice will ask him what he wants. If Sam says that he's a new cleaner (or anything similar), a thin, beak-nosed man with a cigar in his mouth will open the door, revealing a small, smoke-filled room. Two fat guys are watching sports from a couch, and a round virtual poker table sits next to a virtual pool table.

The thin man pats Sam down and runs a hand-held scanner over him.

"What's your name? What can you do? I mean, what are you good at doin'?" He eyes Sam and chews on his stogie.

Ya Ta Hey!
2008-01-12, 02:58 PM
I'm really looking forward to when Sam meets the rest of the crew. At that point, I can finally show the other players this thread, and have them read it and use it as the prototype for excellent roleplaying and the type of writing I'm looking for. It's almost not fair you're a great writer with great ideas, but here's another +1 PP (Sam) for an excellent plot device.

Hehe, thanks. I was going to say something similar at the get-go, but I couldn't think of a way to without sounding like a primma donna jerk.

Feel free to hold me to stricter standards when you're considering these rewards and stuff; I won't take it personally, and it would be better to have to use good judgement and reasoning to solve problems.

By the way, what planet is this? I had intended for this just to be Persephone, makes it easier for the plot. The crew can come back with the floats, drop em off and head over to the city you're in.

Its Genericus Planetus IV: wherever it needs to be. The 'Gateway to the Core' immigrant ghetto thing was just something that hit me at the moment, but given Sam's circumstances of arrival, it seemed like a nice comprimise between getting stitched up with saddle-wire and paying $6000 just to be told he appears to be shot and then given a referrral.

"Name's Skip." Sam says with a casual handshake. "I can shoot, but hey, so can an old lady, right? I'm sure you've already got your go-to guys for that anyhow."

"Sure. And...?"

"Think of me as an insurance policy, or a walking second chance; I fix mistakes. If one of your regular guys accidentally makes a mess and he's worth enough to you, I go in there real quick and handle anything that could come back to him."

"A gallon of gasoline can do that too. So what?" The man shrugs. One of the guys glances back from the TV.

Sam sighs through his nose. "Can a gallon of gasoline pick your guy up on the way home and make sure there isn't a big mouth running loose? No, what it'll do is bring in twenty-odd more potential witnesses to fight the fire, and make a big enough scene that someone is guaranteed to look into it. If your guy is in custody and the case doesn't get thrown out for being too vague, then there's no way around it--he's gonna end up at the bargaining table and he'll probably spill his guts."

When Sam sees the man nod in consideration, he pulls out al the stops.

"You'd be amazed what can survive a fire, too; I had a retard for a friend once, and the guy was just obsessed with his stapler, and wouldn't you know it, but one day--"

"Okay, okay, sheddup."

"So am I handy?" Sam askes.

"Lets just say you've made your case."

2008-01-14, 08:59 PM
Hmm, I would ask you to talk for NPCs a little bit less in the future. Just describe what Sam says or is prepared to say. My last post, for example, didn't include any of Sam's words or his actions. I didn't describe Sam going down the corridor, I just described the corridor and what would happen if Sam were to go down it and knock on the door. I'd like for you (and the other players) to do the equivalent thing regarding NPCs. Not a big deal, I just want to make sure 1) plot twists I have in mind don't get pancaked by players' text, and 2) NPCs behave the way I'm imagining them to--their word choice, actions, body language, etc.

The man rolls the cigar to the other corner of his mouth.

"Fine, let's see what you got. I'm going to get rid of this moron soon anyway, so why don't you go down and find him messin' up--he's trying to make the rounds on one o' the blocks in the warzone. Name's Merv, about yea high, a redhead, wearin' a brown jacket today. Ask around the shopkeepers, tell 'em you from Danny--that's me--they'll tell ya whether they seen him today or not. You'll find 'im. You fix whatever problems he got himself into today."

He grabs a pistol off the shelf and checks the ammo.

"This is your insurance, insurance man," Danny says as he hands it to Sam. Looking at Sam straight in the eyes, he leans in and raises his finger. "Don't fcuk me, got it?"

Leaning back, he resumes his casual demeanor. "Help yourself to a chocolate," he says as he nods to a bowl by the door, before turning around and making his way to the couch. "They're imported from Sihnon, delicious."

Ya Ta Hey!
2008-01-14, 10:38 PM
Okay. So I should limit myself to speaking for them only in flavor dialogue, when it doesn't make sense to blow four posts and a week IRL to get to the point? Or, just don't do it at all (I can get by without banter, but I think its less interactive that way)

Sam nonchalantly dangles the sidearm by its trigger ring on his knuckle, trying to look cocky but actually counting on the hairs to keep that part from leaving any clear prints. As soon as Danny turns around, Sam snakes his hand into his sleeve and clamps down on the gun with that.

Gun secured in his shoulder holster, Sam picks out a chocolate with a rustley noise but slips it in his pocket, instead chewing on his tongue. He says through the fake mouthful, "Damn, that is good. Alright, see you later."

On his way out, Sam stops by the bar. "Say, I need to replace a couple of speciatly tools if you know any vendors...?"

He is confident that the bartender will point him to a business in the protection ring (who doesn't want to support their own thralls?), and doesn't want to admit being new in town; it would be dangerous for them to think he could go missing unnoticed.

After recieving the answer, Sam steps back out onto the noisy street, staring down at the chocolate wrapper. These guys must be a pretty high class bunch, and he wonders if this chocolate might have been handled by their own industry. He goes through what he knows about Sihnon's underground...


Also, he makes sure to wander around quite a bit in order to make any tails obvious.

Alertness+Perception [roll]d8+d6

Okay, those are my inaugral rolls. I hope those are right.

It looks like if we go from a game perspective, then Sam's Dead Broke comp means that he starts with 375c and has to spend a bunch of it, some of which will have to be in cigarettes due to his Hooked. But, I guess I implied that Sam only escaped the Swartzwulf with the clothes on his back. Is that how you want me to be, or do I have the 375 to work with?

Ya Ta Hey!
2008-01-14, 10:42 PM
Alertness + Perception: [roll0] + [roll1]

2008-01-15, 03:31 AM
Yeah, exactly. (re: speaking for NPCs)

About the chocolate: It's just a piece of flavor I added--Danny is a bit of a connoisseur when it comes to delicacies. Nothing behind it.

The bartender gives him directions in a lazy, offhand way. Apparently there was a special provider they used right in the middle of an area known for its shops and nightlife. It may not be where the "warzone" is, but it's Sam's best bet.

As Sam wanders down to the area, though he does not notice anyone tailing him, he thinks he may have seen a few eyes follow him for a second too long.

The address for the guns guy leads to a bakery. All along the street--which seems to be one of the major lifelines of this run-down, backwards city--shops and stores are peddling their goods to passerby. This is likely where Sam is supposed to look for the redheaded Merv.

Ya Ta Hey!
2008-01-15, 06:36 PM
((Dude, all it needs are bootleg video vendors and it would be Canal St.

Also, when I get home, I'm going to see if its legal to turn plot points into advancement points, because I'm thinking maybe Sam should be the Hole's Inside Guy/Sabotuer when he joins, seeing how Lee and Jin have the shooting covered. That's going to take a lot stonger of a knowledge roll than d6 if I want to do that))

Sam frowns at the bakery, not in the mood to try and talk his way past another front, if its even that. He begins systematically going store to store, saying the minimum possible to find Merv's whereabouts and the direction.

Getting furstrated, he steps into the cleanest establishment on the strip, a dingy corner grocery, the kind of place whos refrigerated goods are indistinguishable from room temperature.

"Hey. 'Seen Merv today?"

2008-01-15, 08:08 PM
Lee's gone. Kyuss hasn't posted in like a month, maybe more. I'm going to need to replace him and possibly Conners (hasn't posted since our discussion on writing, may be quitting) through the recruitment forum. We'll see. Anyway, if you want to be a recon guy, coordinate with Nelphine/Boran. He also wanted to be a sneaky, spy/informant type. Has the technical stuff to go along with it. You two in the future would make a good team.

Also, whenever you want, you can spend whatever points you have on advancing your character.

Lastly, I'm trying to make a picture of your interceptor, as the actual model for the Templar has a cockpit that's too small. If I were to scale it up so the cockpit is the correct size, the ceptor wouldn't fit in the aft cargo bay. I took the front of the Omen, however, and I'm slapping it in the middle to serve as the cockpit/main fuselage. Messing with it currently.

The aproned man behind the counter looks at Sam with a flash of resignation and annoyance, but after being informed that he was dealing with one of Danny's men, quickly mentions that he saw Merv about an hour ago. He was heading south along the street.

As Sam walks down the street, other vendors let him know that Merv has been making his rounds. About fifteen minutes later, Sam is approaching a bar when he suddenly hears a gunshot, followed by two more, coming from it. Twenty seconds later, the door is thrown open and two screaming waitresses run out and into the parking lot.

Ya Ta Hey!
2008-01-15, 09:49 PM
Oh no.

If Merv's reputation precedes him, then Sam has a bad feeling that he just ran into it. He breaks into a run, intercepting the waitresses.

"Hey, hey!" He shakes one by the shoulders. "What just happened in there?"

If it is his guy, then he has to contain these witnesses. If it isn't, it would be good to know before he went diving in headfirst.

2008-01-16, 04:53 AM
The woman wrests her way out of Sam's grip. She shakes her head vigorously and whimpers, "I ain't no rat... just leave me alone!"

The other waitress has already disappeared behind the corner of a nearby building.

Ya Ta Hey!
2008-01-16, 11:34 PM
She shakes her head vigorously and whimpers, "I ain't no rat... just leave me alone!"

No one can be a rat unless there's someone to rat on, so that pretty much tells Sam everything he needs to know. With a disgruntled sigh, he strides up to the door , takes a breath, and...

...softly pads inside.

2008-01-18, 08:46 AM
Hey, sorry for the delay. I'm going to move the game to myth-weavers.com I think. Their forum tools are amazing, not these crappy barebones ones here. You should go register an account, read the FAQ. It's pretty impressive.

Also, I finally figured out a way to make the interceptor work without having to mess with the Templar much--I'm going to have it contract into compact mode when it's aboard its base ship, which allows me to fit it into the aft bay and still have room for (a slightly smaller than originally intended) shuttle in there too. It works awesomely, I think: Storage mode (http://ancalimohtar.googlepages.com/antiherocompact.jpg) and Combat mode (http://ancalimohtar.googlepages.com/antiherocombat.jpg) and actions shots 1 (http://ancalimohtar.googlepages.com/antihero-1.jpg), 2 (http://ancalimohtar.googlepages.com/antihero-2.jpg), 3 (http://ancalimohtar.googlepages.com/antihero-3.jpg), 4 (http://ancalimohtar.googlepages.com/antihero-4.jpg).

As he nears the door, Sam picks up an angry male voice, shouting about something. As he slinks inside, he sees a mostly-empty bar. One customer is cowering in a booth; another is hiding behind a wall. The decorations are pedestrian, the lighting dim. The lone waitress holds her hands in front of her, palms outward, begging with the man in the middle of the room--a man sporting a brown jacket and a head of reddish brown hair.

Near the waitress lies Merv's victim, a balding, mustached man, covered in blood and not moving. The pleading girl, tears down her cheeks, is trying to explain, but Merv is clearly in a fit of rage.

"--you and ya plinky ol man, every damn time I'm here, to come to me if anything changes--"

"--please, Merv, please! We couldn't do nuttin', I swears to you Merv, it wasn't like that, there--"

"--if they botha ya. But no, ya can't do that, can ya? Well, now youse gotta be taught a lesson--"

"--had five guys Merv, they was packin', we had to give em what they wanted, we had to pledge to them--"

Merv shakes his head in mock resignation as he slowly lifts his gun to point at the girl.

2008-01-19, 07:39 AM
Okay, I moved the game to MW. This is the forum: (http://www.myth-weavers.com/forumdisplay.php?f=6758), this is your thread: (http://www.myth-weavers.com/showthread.php?t=28871) but you can't view it until you register and I grant you access to that private thread.