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| Cowards and Fools: Civilisation | |
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| Topic Started: 1 Dec 2011, 22:19 (655 Views) | |
| SgtJesus | 1 Dec 2011, 22:19 Post #1 |
Government in exile
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It was dark out, Hrado Loren should have been home hours ago. Unfortunately the promotion to Sub-Magistrate had done little to reduce his overtime sheet. His terminal was one of only three or four in Landing (East) Constabulary's cavernous operations room online, blinking in the darkness. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he leaned back and considered the absurdity of it all. Here was a Union wide security alert yet it lacked a single listing of any of the suspects biological signature, histories or even names. Instead a poor video recording and some rough descriptions, with this he was meant to put together news alerts for every outpost on the planet. Ludicrous. Nonetheless he had no solid ground to complain from. This was Union business, or to put it another way this had to be done exactly as instructed. No questions, no recriminations and the line at the employment centre wasn't getting any shorter. So he sent it out. Come morning proper four faces would be on every infoscreen on the planet. Official bounty postings would be sent out. Preprepared news alerts would be screened. The hunt would begin. Three days later Arnold woke with a start. Already sitting bolt upright before consciousness shot into him. Glancing around in a panic, slick with sweat and fear. His bare chest jumping rapidly, tensed for action. After five minutes frozen in place he slumped back down. Every sleep on this damned ship ended the same way. Always her face looking out at him. Mocking him from the grave. Or rather it should be, but then she likely lacked the good grace to stay dead. “Lights”, his voice rasping Illuminated, the captain's quarters were undeniably comfortable albeit tempered by the utilitarian restraints of space travel. An open plan layout with the ship's only real double bed, up a small step there was a small seating area around a sofa and a usable desk. Arnold climbed out of bed, a symphony of cracking joints and unintelligible groans. Crossed to the hygiene station, pausing to remove his trousers on the way. Still half asleep he tapped the terminal in the robotic pattern characteristic of virtually all early morning routines. The plastic shield dropped immersing him in a claustrophobic world of searing hot water. After two minutes the jet cut off, even with water recycling the system was built for efficiency and sustainability. Now hot air shot downwards ultimately resulting in a state of mild dampness. Dressing was a quick affair. The cabin's former occupant had been a good foot shorter than Arnold, which had proved problematic as none of them had been able to bring spare clothes. This was then made more problematic as she'd also been of the female persuasion. Fortunately there'd been several containers of clothing in the cargo deck allowing for the construction of a small functional range of outfits. He left the cabin clean and dressed in a simple black t-shirt and tan combat trousers. He'd been on his guard ever since they left over the message. Although hadn't said a word to the others about it and simply hoped they took his shiftiness as a natural symptom of their continued retreat. His belt was military issue with magazine pouches on both sides and space for a pistol holster. As yet even his paranoia hadn't driven Arnold to investigate the small arms locker but the ability to arm himself at short notice was reassuring. He was first to reach the bridge, excepting Dart who was ever present in the corner. Light streamed in through the viewing windows, you wouldn't know it within the controlled environment but they were sat in the middle of a desert. They'd landed last night, very gingerly as landing away from humanity had found the autopilot routines lacking. Hidden away behind a sizeable rock formation as they lacked the money for starport fees and taxes, plus it probably wouldn't be too wise to allow customs a good look at the ship. Still the spot was ideal, they'd slipped in unnoticed but were still relatively close to Landing. They needed fuel if they were going to make a real run at getting out of Union space. Getting it would be difficult without funds but once they'd identified a supplier trade would be possible, although as yet their cargo had yielded no hidden treasures. Still selling passage or providing discrete goods transport was supposed to be quite lucrative. There was a motorised cargo hauler sitting in the cargo lift at the moment, it could easily hold them all as well as a crate of clothes, spices, a couple of bottles of wine and a few of the new intellipad 3. A sampler of what they had to sell. It should only take about half an hour to reach the road and maybe that again to reach the city. With luck their business could be concluded within a day or two. Free to run once more. Arnold settled into one of the navigation chairs. He expected the others would surface soon and the bridge had become a de facto meeting area, most likely out of the lingering feeling that a box of thin metal that hurtles through space at the speed of light should probably have someone standing near the off button. |
  
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| Hyede | 5 Dec 2011, 03:57 Post #2 |
Resident Shirtless Bishonen
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The morning came for Zachary as many had, slowly rising from the peaceful, timelessness of sleep to the half conscious awareness that he was laying on his side in his bedroom, wrapped in the warm embrace of both his silken sheets and that of the evening’s client. His eyes remained shut for some time, not really aware of it’s passage until an almost inaudible chirp from the communications consol in the control room roused his thoughts enough to look about. The sunlight was starting to filter in through the thin, red curtain he’d strung around the interior of the bedroom’s viewing bubble, it’s purpose obviously to provide privacy. The matching silken sheets were pulled up just barely higher then his pelvis and there were two feminine arms encircling his torso, one around his middle and the other higher about his chest. Zach preferred male clientele but that in no way excluded the opposite gender from his services. This particular woman, middle-aged and largely ignored by her husband, a governor or magistrate or some such, had contracted with him on more then one occasion. It wasn’t at all uncommon for the higher classes to marry out of convenience and for the couple to seek fulfillment elsewhere, and for this particular governor’s wife, Zachary was that elsewhere. A contended sigh from his bedmate told the black haired young man that she too was rising out of the timelessness of sleep. He felt her hands roam aimlessly over his defined midsection for a few moments and then withdraw. They rolled from their sides onto their back’s in unison and Zachary folded his arms up behind his head as she continued to roll to her other side and stand out of the bed. There was no modesty between the two, and while she wasn’t the image of near perfection Zachary was, neither of them had any reservations about seeing each other’s bodies, although it was almost a given that she had absolutely none about seeing his. “My accountant will deposit the usual amount, I had a wonderful time, as always.” the woman stated as she strode into the bathroom to freshen up, drawing Zach’s gaze along the entire way. If there was one thing he knew this particular client liked, it was quiet but continuous attention. She liked to control, probably from a subconscious feeling that she had little control over her life, the young man surmised. She paid very well though and was one of his more pleasant clients so he played his part every minute they were together, he had in fact not said anything to her the entire evening except to greet her at the hatch and the occasional ‘yes madam.’ A few moments later she returned and his gaze followed her every step of the way. If she wasn’t already smiling one surely would have crept across her face as she noticed him staring and the overtly provocative position he was laying in. “My boy you are going to ware me out.” She started and then paused. “Unfortunately I can’t stay, things to do and all that. We must schedule again when ever you’re back in the system.” She added, signaling the end of their official encounter. Nodding, Zachary unfolded his arms and sat up, climbing out of bed and started to dress while his client did the same. This morning he was donning his signature outfit, complete with it’s extremely low cut front and head framing fabric triangle. He walked her to the starboard side hatch, the one aft of the bedroom and bathroom as it was more convenient then a trip through the center and port modules. After pressing the ‘open’ control, the pressure seal hissed and then the doorway swung open on it’s electric actuators. The seal wasn’t actually necessary since the shuttle was on a planetary surface, but the mechanism was automatic and built for safety so the seal engaged when ever the hatch was closed. Leading the way down the three steps from the hatchway, Zacharay held out his hand and provided support for his client’s as she descended, more for appearance sake then actual need. “Thank you again Zachary.” She stated once more. “It is always a pleasure madam, thank you.” he replied and watched from the foot of the stairs as she walked across the airfield to a waiting ground vehicle. Once she was inside and away, the young man turned and headed back up the stairs and inside. Closing the hatch behind him, he passed through the sleeping area and into Heimdallr’s center module. Pulling aside the decorative red and gold curtain that concealed the technological aspects of the control and recycling room from the rest of the opulently appointed shuttle, Zach stepped inside and sat down at the control consol. With his business on the planet complete, he had two things to do, schedule another client and locate suitable transportation to said client’s location. Unfortunately three days prior, the cargo ship he was planning to contract with was ceased by the port officials over smuggling charges or some other nonsense. Frankly he didn’t care what the ship he was with was hauling as long as it wasn’t dangerous. Checking his messages first as it was in fact the communications system chirping at him that had woken him, Zach spotted the new mail and opened it. “Great… just great…” he grumbled to himself, frowning at the screen. It was time for an annual injection of a super drug the guild uses to protect licensed courtesans from viral infection. Given the nature of their work it is not uncommon for a courtesan to pick up something from one of their clients and the drug, ‘panacide’ as it is called, is a potent cocktail of chemicals that inoculates them from infection. The after effects of the drug aren’t pleasant though and often put the subject out of commission for a few days. It is also difficult to manufacture and even harder to distribute given the limited number of people licensed to use it outside of the guild. The reason for the licensing of course being another hurdle to it’s ease of procurement, panacide can be horribly addictive. Zach though never concerned himself with that aspect though, he didn’t like taking the injection in the first place so he could never see himself getting addicted to a drug that made him sick. “Where am I going to find it out here though? There isn’t a guild hall in light-years.” he continued to grumble to himself as he scrolled through lists of doctors that might have access to it. A few names came up, none of them he’d ever heard of, if he had though he would have known that two of them were from the seedier side of the medical profession. Scheduling an appointment that day with the first one on the list, ostensibly one of the seedy doctors, Zach turned his attention to looking for possible transportation off-world. |
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“Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same.” “Government's view of the economy could be summed up in a few short phrases: If it moves, tax it. If it keeps moving, regulate it. And if it stops moving, subsidize it.” “Government exists to protect us from each other. Where government has gone beyond its limits is in deciding to protect us from ourselves.” “I've never been able to understand why a Republican contributor is a 'fat cat' and a Democratic contributor of the same amount of money is a 'public-spirited philanthropist'. Ronald Reagan Remember, I'm watching you... and I know what you've done.  Dark Rain, Dark Rain über alles, Über alles in der Net … 
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| Lieutenant | 7 Dec 2011, 00:44 Post #3 |
Most Learned of the Students
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Night had slipped away as the party guests danced on. The Nob throwing the party had managed to keep the guests plied with spirits and popular music from the inner systems, and as the sun rose, there was no sign of stopping. A waiter crossed the ballroom, laden with two large trays full of dirty dishes. He passed through the unobtrusive rear door into the kitchen and set his trays on the heap of similar china and flatware next to the overworked dishwasher he'd been getting information out of all night. He called an excuse to the head waiter and slipped down a corridor, supposedly headed for the servants lav. Without stopping, he swept a neatly hung suit of clothing from behind a hanging tapestry and stepped into the guests lav to change. Very few guests wandered down the corridor towards the kitchen, so there was no one else around while Wren Xarles changed from his waiter's disguise into finely tailored pants, fitted to his delicate calves, and a tunic that was a few seasons out of date, and wouldn't have called notice to itself even when it was in style. His boots would have to stay the same, it was harder to hide boots among the object du art, and the weather was too cold for slippers. He wiped the chalk scuff marks from his boots. He put on a hat which hid his hair from view almost entirely. He added a pair of glasses. Wren stepped out of the stall looking just like Peotir Cremin, his stodgy, persona of lesser nobility. His character was the sort of person who would come to just about this time of morning, be secretly delighted at his spending a naughty night out, and stumble home to pass out. Peotir Cremin weaved through the crowds, out the front door and into the street. Occasionally he giggled conspiritorily at one of the other guests. He summoned a cab and zipped away from the location of the party. He had spent the hours siphoning information off of the Nobs. Even his contact with the dishwasher was useful. The man had been a veteren of this sort of party, and knew the servants of most of the guests. Wren had the cabbie drop him off down the street from a general store. He walked to it and bought a caffiene beverage. He changed into his ordinary clothes. There would be no sleep for Wren today. He had a meeting with one of his contacts. The contact wanted him to come up with some cover ID's for a group of people who'd recently landed outside the spaceport. He would be meeting them later today. Until then, he took a liquid breakfast while leaning against a sunwarmed wall off the city square. |
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| Arius Daemonis | 13 Dec 2011, 22:42 Post #4 |
Guardian of the Dark Rain
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Alex dragged the needle from the taut flesh of his arm, and ran a bony hand across his pale and sallow face. He flicked the spent syringe across the room, where it took its place in the den of litter and filth that he had made of his room. He had not slept. Not really. He had lain for hours in a narcotics induced stupor, until the time display had indicated he should rise. He had done this for more nights now than he cared to remember. Yes, he was free now, free to do as he wished, free to indulge as he had not been able to before. He laughed bitterly, and drew the bottle to his lips. Free. What a load of shit. This wasn’t freedom, shackled by fear as he was forced to flee across the hollow depths of space with a group of people he cared nothing for. This wasn’t what he had signed up. And so he had found the answer to the fear under his very nose, in the bag he carried with him. The drugs and the drink had become his solace. It’s not like he could sell them anymore anyway. No one on the ship was interested, and their stops were not ideal for the kind of business he had in mind. So fuck it. He wasn’t about to let a good thing go to waste. He pulled a shirt over his emaciated torso, and drew on a jacket after that. Why is it always so cold, he thought as he swiped a hand over his forehead, not even realising that it was covered in sweat as it came away. Hauling himself from the bedside, he didn’t even bother to wash up, simply waved aside the door and stumbled through the ship, bag clasped protectively under his arm like a life line. Avoiding the bridge, where people seemed to gather, he went straight to the cargo lift, where Arnold had told him they would be meeting. He groggily dragged himself into a seat at the back of the vehicle. He drew the bottle from the back, and brought it wearily to his lips. |
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Roleplays I am in: Distant Stars Proximo Cowards and Fools: Civilisation The Ghosts of Altressa The Awakening Odin IV | |
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| TheZamboniKnight | 16 Dec 2011, 03:01 Post #5 |
I am Nathan Fillion.
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Being on the ship grated on Hattie's nerves like someone was singing a repetitive string of notes over and over and over again without stop. She was snappy and tended to avoid the others; they had nothing for her to take, and rather than entertaining her she was supposed to entertain them. True, she was magnificently talented. Still. She wasn't their damn lap dog. They could do their own card tricks. Idiots. In all honesty she wasn't in that high of demand, she was just really irritable. At least her paranoia had faded. They were still in danger but there was nothing she could do about it. She was stuck in a metal tube; if they were going to die, they would die. There was no use fretting over it. She had more immediate worries- like being caged in this god damn metal maze. She didn't like the lack of space. Hattie of course had found all the hiding spots to be found, been over every hallway, every room, every space she could plausibly fit into. Back home she had so much space to roam. There was always an escape if you knew how to find one. Here it was just one massive trap. Nowhere to run, only to hide. No escape. It made her twitchy. Alex turning into a sad sack of drugs and alcohol didn't help matters. She kept expecting him to have a bad trip and try to kill everyone. Hattie didn't like him before and she liked him even less now. They were free and what was he doing? Imprisoning himself for a temporary escape. The long term far outweighed the short term high in her opinion. That was his business, though. She didn't give a rat's ass. In the morning she rolled out of bed and cleaned herself up. That was a good thing about the ship. At least if Alex snapped she'd die clean. Hattie braided her hair tightly from the frown of her head while it was still damp and dressed in her scavenged knee-length skirt, leggings, and loose shirt. They were a mix of earthy tones that stood out among the cold steel of the ship, but they fit pretty well. Except for the leggings everything was fairly loose, which meant she could hide things on her person if need be. She liked having that option, plus she'd never been comfortable showing off her curves. Carrying her shoes by the laces over one shoulder Hattie made her way to the bridge, shuffling her new deck of cards as she walked. She'd found them among the cargo. A shiny brand new deck with every single original card, the only marks on them those made at the factory. Hattie handled them constantly to get accosted to the new feel. When she saw Arnold she nodded to him, draping herself in another chair and setting her boots aside. Going barefoot was a new-found pleasure for her. "Morning," she greeted as cards fell from one hand to the next. Alex did not get any sort of acknowledgement. |
 "Drug induced awesome is not awesome, but a pretender to awesome. True awesome comes naturally from within oneself." Doc | |
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| Syaoran | 20 Dec 2011, 05:56 Post #6 |
Why are you such a sour puss?
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The days inside the old hulk had taken no toll on the aged soul that resided in the comm bay of the vessel. Time to a man who had seen more days and nights than pairs of the crew put together meant little, and so the futile searching was as if one afternoon in the market. In the early stages of their journey, the tinkerer spent his time in the server, fixing panels and other delicates broken during their escape. It did not take long, and he knew it wouldn't, so he stretched out the job, telling the others that 'it was difficult' or 'it has been a while since he had seen this model'. While he loved having company, and was overjoyed at the fact he had freedom, he was just too used to not seeing a soul for 17 hours a day. Since then, Damien listened to the communication lines, and watched the other's on the security monitors. Each had their own distinct quirks that created visages of the insane. Hattie was shy and a loner, one to find a small hole and curl up in to sleep or eat. Arnold was by far the most conformed, a man stuck in a shell of disappointment and anger; a true piece of steel. Alex was the one to worry about however, being one to tip the needle countless times a day. As far as the watcher was concerned, Alex had yet to sleep, and barely to eat (save for a few pills). Damien noted to talk to Arnold when the chance arises about letting loose the baggage. A junky is a junky and wont ever be of use. Well, some planets have a slave trade, and Alex did indeed have a body with a heartbeat. Enough of a heartbeat at least. Flicking off the screens and powering down the wave monitor, Damien picked up his backpack. In some of the time he had he took inventory of what was on board, finding what was of value that could be spared and placing it in the pack. Somewhere they would need to trade, and the man would be ready. His life as a jeweller gave him the gift of the haggle, and would gladly use it to trade good, or man, to the best of its value. Shouldering the bag, the man joined the others in the lift, with his usual empty smile and grey eyes. |
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Had sex, undressed, saw her boobies and the rest! Fox: If I was asked to describe my perfect day, i'd just say 'Brianna'. says: whats to say im not an idiot now Bri: I love you, Gavin says: o.o The lack of penguins. Fox: If I was asked to describe my perfect day, i'd just say 'Brianna'. says: so to be an idiot, you must have penguins Fox: If I was asked to describe my perfect day, i'd just say 'Brianna'. says: ? Bri: I love you, Gavin says: >> Bri: I love you, Gavin says: << Bri: I love you, Gavin says: Yes. --- Bri: To you, I pledge my eternal soul says: You are the.. genuinly good nature show on my public broadcasting line up.  Codemaster of Teal's CD | |
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| Hyede | 24 Dec 2011, 03:51 Post #7 |
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Resident Shirtless Bishonen
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Zachary spent about an hour at his consol, looking through the public transit itineraries of the various ships that were in port during his search for transportation to one of the core worlds. His search was motivated both because of the simple need to move along and because Zach was not entirely sure he'd be able to get the medication he needed in time. If he could send a message to the guild and inform them that he was in transit, he could at the very least be granted an extension on the date he had to take the injection. The search for transportation wasn't goin well though, most of the ships stationed here either weren't leaving for several weeks or were heading out to remote coloies that had even less of a chance of having a supply of panacide. He could send a mesage to the guild and request a special courier be sent but that would not only be needlessly expensive but also would put a smudge on his destinctive reputation for not being able to keep his affares in order. Sliding his chair back and muttering a Russian curse that he'd picked up, Zacharay rubbed his eyes and then looked back at the consol. It looked as though he'd be stuck for some time and that the docotrs he'd lined up were his only chance short of sendind for a courier. With the scheduled tme for his appointment with the doctor approaching, Zachary decided it would be best not to worry for now. If it turned out the docot couldn't help him though, then he'd worry, but for now it was time to restore his dignified, cultured self and procede out to his appointment. Sliding up once again, Zach powered down the consol and then rose from the command chair. Closing the curtains after walking out of the control room, the young man headed back to the starboard module, passed through his bedroom and stopped in the bathroom to freshen up. He would have bathed with the evening's client except for the fact that along with enjoying control, she also liked her men to smell manly, not like the pleasently scented body oils that Zachary applied after bathing. Stripping down, Zachary bathed in his usual, methodical, almost sensual manner. His training was so thorough that at times the young man seemed to be working to seduce an empty room. Eventually after completing his almost ritualistic bathing, Zachary redressed and then applied some peppermint oil around his neck and chest then made for the right side hatch. Stepping out onto the tarmack, the black haired courtesan secured the hatch and made his way towards the terminal exit. Recalling the address of the doctor's office, he started down the ground vehicle crowded avenue. As he made his way from the fairly upscale spaceport, the ratio of ground vehicles to people started to shift in favor of people and as he continued to make his way into the poorer districs where this doctor was apparently located, there were few vehicles at all. The streets were packed with throngs of paupers, beggers, mercants and yes, even wanderers. All of them parted as Zachary passed, making was for the impecably dressed young man. Even down in the seedy side of town people knew what a guild courtesan is. Zach didn't fear for his safety though, even if someone was desperate enough attack the seemingly wealthy young man, he was more then capable of defending himself. Eventually he arrived at the office, a rundown appartment building, packed to the brim with two and three generations of families. A small neon sign above a descending staircase led to the basement office of the the doctor. A simple bell ove the door annoinced Zachary's arrival in the office and the doctor looked up from his desk. He was a weasily, balding man with an oiled combover and stained apron. Zach had half a mind to simply turn around and leave but it was posible the man had what he needed so he'd give him one chance and one only. "Come in come in, you are mister Cranston?" he asked and turned off the terminal he'd been working on. "That is correct." Zach replied amicably and closed the door behind him. "I trust you received my message along with my appointment request." "Indeed I did young man, I must say though this is a first for me." the docot replied, his sneeky eyes greedily taking in every curve of Zach's toned form, at least as much as the young man's clothes reveiled. "Yes, you are the first guild courtesan I've ever met and panacide isn't easy to come by out here. But! I think you are in luck, please, come in to the exam room and disrobe." Not missing the man's transparent interest, Zacharay proceeded further into the office still wareing his dignified faqade but in actuality he was proceeding cautiously, this man could want anything from an innocent glance to rape to worse. They were in the exam room a moment later, a suprisingly clean room considering the conditions outside. Zachary slipped out of his robe, baring the rest of his upper body to the obviously sleevy medical practitioner. He wasn't uncomfortable though, at least not yet, he was after all used to having his body drolled over. Hewas hower still cautious. The exame was farely routine, the doroct measured Zach's height, weighed him, performed a few tests of his joints and reflexes, checked the glands in his neck, although his hands remained a moment too long to be considered profesional. Once all of the preliminary checks were complete, the docotr rolled in an old medical scanner, something that should have been decomissioned a decade or two ago. Laying down for the scan, Zach's caution was well placed. Had he not been watching the man's movements like a hawk, he might have missed the cotton swab that had been drawn from a pocket and palmed in the doctor's gloved hand. Zachary pretended he didn't see anything until the man drew his hand up and tried to cup it on hs shoulder. It was evident what was about to happen and the young man recated instantly. His right arm, the one that hand been the target of the doctor's clumbsy attack shot up, knoking the doctor's arm high. As he swung his legs off of the table, Zach's right hand firmly grasped the doctor's wrist to keep control of that arm while his left grabbed the other and yanked it up behind the doctor's back in a move that at one time was known as a chicken wing. "That will be quite enough of that doctor." Zach stated in a calm, collected voice. "Now, drop it or I will brake your arm." "I... I... I'm sorry, I had no idea..." the shocked man replied and then dropped the swab on the floor. "Had no idea what? That I didn't want you knocking me out and doing god knows what." Zach responded, the anger starting to show in his voice as he cranked up the doctor's arm and pushed him up against a wall. "What was that anyway, contact seditive?" "Yyyy... Yes.... I wasn't going to hurt you though..." "I don't wat to hear it. All I want to hear from you is three things." Zach replied and kkept his and the doctor's other arms up high above their heads where the man couldn't wipe any of the seditive from his glove on the young man's skin. "First, you had plenty of time to examine me, what is your conclution?" "Yyy... You're in excelent health, the scan was just..." "Second." Zach interupted. "Do you actually have any panacide here?" "Nnno... but..." "Thought not." the young man interupted again. "Tell me where you were going to get it, or were you planning to just kill me?" "I wasn't going to hurt you, honest... But I can't tell you who I get my drugs from, he'll kill me." "That is not my problem." Zach responded and yanked the man's left arm higher drawing a strangled cry from him. "Now tell me." "Errrrr... Saunders!... Saunders!... He operates down on the docks... Pier twenty..." the sobbing practitioner answered. "Thank you. Now go to sleep." Zach replied saticfied that he'd gotten the information he wanted and sufficiently humilliated the man who'd tried to attack him and pulled the doctor's right hand down and flattened the man's gloved palm against his forehead. The man struggled but Zach was stronger by far and knew how to handle him. After a few moments the man went limp in his arms and the young man lowered him carefully to the floor. Pulling the man's tainted rubber glove off, he dropped it on the cotton swab and then tossed them both into the trash before gathering up his robes and heading out of the office. |
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“Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same.” “Government's view of the economy could be summed up in a few short phrases: If it moves, tax it. If it keeps moving, regulate it. And if it stops moving, subsidize it.” “Government exists to protect us from each other. Where government has gone beyond its limits is in deciding to protect us from ourselves.” “I've never been able to understand why a Republican contributor is a 'fat cat' and a Democratic contributor of the same amount of money is a 'public-spirited philanthropist'. Ronald Reagan Remember, I'm watching you... and I know what you've done. Dark Rain, Dark Rain über alles, Über alles in der Net …
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| SgtJesus | 8 Jan 2012, 00:52 Post #8 |
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Government in exile
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Arnold met Alex's arrival with a little response. He'd adopted a casual disdain for the boy, if only as a reminder of a youth best left forgotten. Besides he hadn't taken a drop of drink or a single stim since the night of their escape. Afraid to surrender his senses on this ship, her ship. Hattie elicited a smile and murmured, “Good Morning” She'd been the only real company he'd had during their trip. Alex was too busy dosing himself or coming down to sustain an intelligent conversation. Damien meanwhile had maintained a degree of lengthy seclusion examining and playing around with the ship's systems. Not to mention his predisposition for gazing intently at the security monitors for hours on end, were it not for the lack of feeds in the captain's quarters Arnold's suspicions could easily have come to the fore. That said the girl was irritable, arrogant and without money on the table she was hardly a social animal. Nevertheless her occasional company had been something of a solace during the trip and despite himself he'd developed some fondness for her. Damien arrived with little ceremony. As closed a book as ever, save for the occasional sideways glance at Alex. He was by no means unpleasant to talk with but their occasional conversations always left Arnold uneasy. All three had deferred to Arnold as their de facto leader but the old tinkerer spoke about the ship and the others in hushed tones and had even asked for permission on occasion. Respect was an odd thing to be the recipient of, it buckled the stomach and left an odd after-taste. Arnold stood up, cringing mentally as they all turned their gaze on him. He had to maintain the façade no matter how ludicrous it might be. He was their captain, they his crew. “I know we were all pretty tired when we got in,” a pause to glare at Alex, while they'd all been sat round the bridge easing the ship down in a climate of absolute terror he'd been passed out somewhere below. “So the ship's been here before and Dart had the contact details for a local fixer who can sort us out with fake IDs we'll need for trading”, an uneasy pause How convenient that damn machine was. It was her creature and it seemed to know where they were going better than they did. “Hopefully he'll know the right people to talk too for trading and maybe picking up a few passengers. If we get separated out there then remember what we're looking for and we'll sort out a meeting point out there. We need F grade Galactic Standard in liquid form for the main engines and a palette of industrial energy cells for the manoeuvring jets.” he breathed hoping that was right, not daring to look to Damien for confirmation “Remember we're an independent merchant crew doing some trading off the books, maybe taking passengers heading out to the Indy worlds. I doubt anyone's going to be looking for us but this ship is valuable and so's the cargo, people'll want that.” he took on a threatening tone, “So no one says where we're landed unless they've got the tanker right there in front of you. Once we're fuelled, we're gone. If you're not back by then, 'nuff said?” |
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| Arius Daemonis | 15 Jan 2012, 10:59 Post #9 |
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Guardian of the Dark Rain
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The cargo lift had loomed down at him with its accursed expectant emptiness for a considerable while, before Alex had decided he had endured enough of its wretched judgement. No one else seemed to be turning up anyway, so he drew his precious bag of sensory wonders close to his chest, and half climbed, half fell out of the cargo hauler. Through some manner of autonomous routine rather than any conscious consideration, his feet navigated the corridors and rooms of the ship and succeeded, very surprisingly, in depositing him on the bridge. How he managed the ladder he would never know, or for that matter, register on any level of mental awareness. The rest of the crew appeared to have been waiting. Had they agreed on meeting here? He didn't remember. He didn't really care. He shrugged a nod towards Arnold, and sort of listened to the things the man was saying. It was so bright in here with all the screens and the buttons and the lights. After their escape, he had flown from this place like a rat abandoning ship, and only returned rarely when necessity absolutely demanded it of him. The bridge reeked of responsibility, and that wasn't what freedom was about, was it? Oh no. Apparently, Arnold, who was now their self-appointed leader, or something, just another irrelevant detail he didn't care to bother himself with, had finished his speech, and he nodded, just to fit in and avoid attention. When was he going to get away from this ship and these people? This plan wasn't going the way he had imagined at all, but it was too late to turn back now, even if he had wanted to. He would rather die than return to the waking nightmare that was Yandranstown. |
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Roleplays I am in: Distant Stars Proximo Cowards and Fools: Civilisation The Ghosts of Altressa The Awakening Odin IV | |
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| Syaoran | 4 Feb 2012, 04:17 Post #10 |
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Why are you such a sour puss?
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Damien listened to their captain with his continual soft, lidded grey eyes and empty smile. A face that one would easily pass over in any crowd as some so and so, but amongst the sparse company, it made him stick out like a thumb. The man was too used to traveling the markets, and avoiding guard gaze. While he was not the type to break the law, guards sometimes grab those who stand out to beat down, rob, or worse, just because they were bored. Waiting for an appropriate moment, the tinkerer put his hat in the circle. “Once we have our licence, I can set up my stall...” He tapped his bag, his smile growing to show some contentment. “I estimate...which may be off, because I am only used to the one market...that if I sell half of my wares...and some of the unneeded parts, we will have enough for maybe the power, or maybe the fuel, but not both...we will need some benefactors for sure...either that or we delve into some...” The old man thought for a moment ,“...unsavoury methods of income...such as smuggling...” 'Or slavery...' He thought to himself, still keen to cut away the rotten flesh that was Alex. “But then...if we need to, why can't we stay a little longer and work...we all have our trades and abilities...why spend money on trade licences...that only work on this planet...to only be used for one day?” Damien, personally, would rather up and go sooner than later, but was always one to observe all options before settling on a single road. “Either way, however, i'd like to be involved in the trades...all it takes is one to ruin our ability to run...” |
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Had sex, undressed, saw her boobies and the rest! Fox: If I was asked to describe my perfect day, i'd just say 'Brianna'. says: whats to say im not an idiot now Bri: I love you, Gavin says: o.o The lack of penguins. Fox: If I was asked to describe my perfect day, i'd just say 'Brianna'. says: so to be an idiot, you must have penguins Fox: If I was asked to describe my perfect day, i'd just say 'Brianna'. says: ? Bri: I love you, Gavin says: >> Bri: I love you, Gavin says: << Bri: I love you, Gavin says: Yes. --- Bri: To you, I pledge my eternal soul says: You are the.. genuinly good nature show on my public broadcasting line up. Codemaster of Teal's CD | |
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| SgtJesus | 13 Feb 2012, 19:09 Post #11 |
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Government in exile
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Arnold listened impassively to Damien's address. It occurred to him how little he really knew about trading and just how threadbare his plan really was. Nonetheless he needed to maintain authority. “We're staying as long as necessary to get the job done Damien, but three days' the limit”, it was made as a statement of fact, “Setting ourselves up as traders would be nice but sooner or later the ship's going to be reported as stolen and we're going to want to be out of Union space by then.”, he adopted a more conciliatory tone, “But it makes sense for you to take the lead on setting up the stall, and as long as we're not too far from the hauler either me or Hattie can make runs back to the ship for extra stock.” The notion of putting Alex behind the wheel was quickly ruled out. He didn't trust him to drive the thing or in all honestly not end up selling it for a few more days worth of chemical oblivion. “Might make sense to split up when we hit civilisation though so everyone make sure you're micced up before we go. I'll head straight for Dart's friend and get what we need, Alex you stick with me just in case he tries to muscle us. You two can get the stall set up and we'll meet you back there. After that we can circulate round a few of the local dives and look for some fares or anything lucrative without too much risk” There didn't seem to be any more comments forthcoming so Arnold nodded expectantly, unfolded his arms and walked through the hatch. The others followed him down the narrow staircase/ladder hybrid that provided bridge access and into the secondary cargo bay where the hauler sat waiting. The lift lowered while the were getting themselves comfortable for the ride in. Arnold fastened himself into the driving seat. It had been years since his last real driving experience but he remembered the basics well enough. The drive would give him time to reacclimatise in any case as most of the outlying roads seemed pretty quiet. It was only really industrial traffic or traders from the distant settlements who used the roads this far out so it should be relatively quiet. Hattie got out to open the hatch and alongside Damien directed him as he squeezed it's bulbous all terrain wheels down the ramp. Once the ship was secured and everyone aboard they set out without delay. *** Fenton was a dense suburb on the eastern fringes of Landing, it had initially been a housing district for early settlers but with city expansion it degraded in prosperity and government attention. Now it was a commercial district focused around commodities with a small industry based on vehicle and ship maintenance. It also sat on the edge of Landing's most notorious and poverty ridden slum, Bransholme. The hauler reached Fenton without difficulty, overhead highways made for quick transit across the urban sprawl. They pulled over at the end of the street the address their contact had given them as a meeting place. Arnold and Alex got out and turned the hauler over to Hattie and Damien to continue onto the marketplace. The neighbourhood looked pretty rough but it was early and the street was pretty dead. A decrepit housing tower dominated their view, the meeting place was within. Arnold looked over at Alex, he'd chosen him because Damien was to old to threaten anyone and Hattie would be no better. Pale and emaciated at least the young man looked like he'd had a tough enough life to know how to handle himself. Arnold met his vacant stare, “You up for this? I need to know you've got my back, anything could happen inside.” Edited by SgtJesus, 13 Feb 2012, 19:09.
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| Arius Daemonis | 13 Feb 2012, 23:25 Post #12 |
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Guardian of the Dark Rain
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Alex blinked groggily. A groan escaped his lips, involuntarily. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The Hauler was coming to a gradual halt along a street dominated by looming, weathered buildings. He didn't remember getting on the Hauler, but it only took a moment to remember why he was. He must have fallen asleep on the journey. Instinctively, he reached into his satchel, his fingers finding the narcotic dispenser. He went to pull it from his bag, jab it into the now scarred patch of skin in his arm, and return himself to what had become his standard level of consciousness. A rare moment of insight caused refrain. Considering the circumstances, dosing up was probably a bad idea. Reluctantly, his hand left the satchel, empty. Feeling considerably sharper than he had in a while, Alex swung himself out of the Hauler and followed Arnold up to the habitation tower that towered above them. It reminded Alex ominously of Yandranstown. Seems like there was no escaping some things. 'Yeah, yeah, don't worry so much,' he said, shifting the satchel round, so that it was hidden from onlookers between the two men. Surreptitiously, he slid a small blade from the pouch, raised his eyebrows at Arnold, and hid it in a secret pocket he had cut into the lining of his trousers. 'Shall we?' |
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Roleplays I am in: Distant Stars Proximo Cowards and Fools: Civilisation The Ghosts of Altressa The Awakening Odin IV | |
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| TheZamboniKnight | 25 Feb 2012, 03:18 Post #13 |
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I am Nathan Fillion.
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Guess who wrote a post that just got lost. That's right, Zammy. So excuse this piece of shit as she rages all over the keyboard. Hattie thought Arnold was the shit because let's face it, compared to Old Man Boobs and Drug Boy he was a choice hunk of meat. She wasn't exactly social, but people sucked. People were scummy bastards who stole, lied, cheated, and pretty much just kicked everyone else in the face metaphorically speaking. And hey, Hattie did it too. That was why she knew so much about how everyone on every planet in every galaxy was a dick. She was one too. Just being honest. Her plan was to ditch everyone else and head into town to swindle some people out of their hard earned money. It was a dog eat dog world and Hattie was one dog who was going to be eating steak. Does that make sense? Who cares. Point is she likes money and people are willing to part with it when you talk fast enough. Getting stuck with Old Man Boobs kind of sucked, but at least it was better than Drug Boy. And she might even be able to ditch him and wander the streets looking for suckers under the guise of helping him. That was cool. She could do that. When they reached their destination she parked the vehicle and looked over at her crispy critter of a companion. Sigh. "So have you ever done this kind of thing before?" She asked. She had no idea how to set up a stall. "What exactly does this stall stuff mean we have to do?" |
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"Drug induced awesome is not awesome, but a pretender to awesome. True awesome comes naturally from within oneself." Doc | |
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| Syaoran | 27 Feb 2012, 12:46 Post #14 |
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Why are you such a sour puss?
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The old man sat comfortably in the seat, looking up at the sky with his dying eyes, noting how different it was to home. It was refreshing, and scary. He just stared at it as they moved, quite slow to react to the girl's question. “Hum..? Oh...yes Miss, I have been selling in a stall since long before your mother was even born...” He shifted a little, patting the pack in his lap. “We find a spot...I set up my stall, and I sell what I can...mean while...you can go scam whomever you like...just do not get caught...and if you find out they patrols are coming to check on my business...you tell me, or we all die.” The old man's back creaked a little as he shifted and got out of the seat, slowly making his way into the early morning market and finding himself a small spot in a corner of a food shop and a basket store. With expert hands, the cloth unrolled and the poles slid into place, not a few moments and the emptiness had been replaced by the dirtied green tent. Sliding into the small door, the old man sat on his familiar stool, opening its front and sliding the tray of impeccable jewellery onto display. “But before you go...” The old man said to Hattie, reaching into his pocket and removing a similar dirty cloth bundle. “...use these to bet, they only look expensive...” He slipped it to her casually with his empty smile. It was the remainder of their polished iron magnetic broaches that they had used to get past the scanners. And the man settled back, looking down to the tiny work bench that he would use in his lap to work on some new piece to sell, content to be quiet, and unnoticed by authorities, selling to the careful buyer. |
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Had sex, undressed, saw her boobies and the rest! Fox: If I was asked to describe my perfect day, i'd just say 'Brianna'. says: whats to say im not an idiot now Bri: I love you, Gavin says: o.o The lack of penguins. Fox: If I was asked to describe my perfect day, i'd just say 'Brianna'. says: so to be an idiot, you must have penguins Fox: If I was asked to describe my perfect day, i'd just say 'Brianna'. says: ? Bri: I love you, Gavin says: >> Bri: I love you, Gavin says: << Bri: I love you, Gavin says: Yes. --- Bri: To you, I pledge my eternal soul says: You are the.. genuinly good nature show on my public broadcasting line up. Codemaster of Teal's CD | |
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| Hyede | 7 Mar 2012, 23:15 Post #15 |
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Resident Shirtless Bishonen
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Zachary didn’t know what he could have been thinking, drug dealers weren’t going to just operate out in the open even in this run down burgh. Only the stupid ones or ones who didn’t think they could be caught would do such a thing and clearly this Saunders character wasn’t either of those. After Zachary had finished dressing he followed the lead the crooked doctor gave him down to the docks but the trip was a waste and turned up nothing the young man cared to think about. With that option exhausted he was left with only one more, seeking immediate transport out of the system and contacting the guild to inform them of the delay. The organization cared for their own and would understand but he hated to have such a ridiculous remark on his record as ‘Failed to receive inoculations on time.’ Deciding on his return trip to the spaceport to try his luck in person at finding transportation, Zachary changed his route back to take him through one of the market districts. He was just as out of place there as he was on the docks or the residential district, but he’d been travelling the poor end of the city without major incident thus far and was confident nothing would happen. None but the most desperate would try to mug someone as high profile as Zach in broad daylight. It was with that confidence that he strode down the market place, stopping here and there to idly look at the wares being offered and drawing the usual stares. |
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“Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same.” “Government's view of the economy could be summed up in a few short phrases: If it moves, tax it. If it keeps moving, regulate it. And if it stops moving, subsidize it.” “Government exists to protect us from each other. Where government has gone beyond its limits is in deciding to protect us from ourselves.” “I've never been able to understand why a Republican contributor is a 'fat cat' and a Democratic contributor of the same amount of money is a 'public-spirited philanthropist'. Ronald Reagan Remember, I'm watching you... and I know what you've done. Dark Rain, Dark Rain über alles, Über alles in der Net …
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| SgtJesus | 9 Mar 2012, 00:51 Post #16 |
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Government in exile
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Arnold looked away for a moment cursing the boy's damn stupidity. They were going up against god knows what and he'd brought a bloody shiv. Nevermind that his hands shook so much he'd be lucky to do anything but lose a few fingers with it. As casually as possible Arnold cast a sideways look down the street towards the tower. A man was stood in the doorway fixedly staring at them. Despite the heat he wore a long thick coat, you could have an artillery piece in there and it would be impossible to tell. There was nothing for it, adopting a steely smile and nudging Alex sharply in the ribs they moved on. As they walked Arnold murmured moving his lips as little as possible so as to maintain his rictus grin. "You dumb little shit. You really think that's going to change a fucking thing if they want to do us harm?", he struggled to keep the tremor of fear from his voice, "I see you reach for that and I'll snap your neck before they get a chance" The man watched their approach with apparent disdain. On reaching the door though he simply stood, still staring but apparently impassive. Arnold decided to take the lead, show a bit of confidence. "Alright? Got a meeting with Mr Beast" He didn't move at all. A minute passed and Arnold looked to Alex, they shared a shrug. Nonplussed he made to edge around the man. They both squeezed past him through the narrow doorway. A lift waited at the other side of the lobby space. They made for it only to be brusqely pushed aside as the doormen walked back inside and straight through to the lift. Apparently he was unaware of their presence, nonetheless he waited for their arrival before pushing the button for the 7th floor. The space the lift opened out onto was vast. Clearly what had once been a network of flats had been knocked through. Steel girders were spaced regularly across the floor supporting the roof. There were no crates, machinery or signs of life. Outside of the lift they were ushered to the left by a thickset man. He wore a greasy vest over a rippling bulk of fat and muscle. He had a sawn off shotgun rested on his shoulder that blurred the line between handhold weaponry and municipal irrigation systems. It looked like it could be loaded with shot as easily as a bowling ball. Arnold swallowed deeply onto his already dry throat. Waiting at a desk set onto a small patch of worn carpet was slim man. His face was a mess of scars, one eye white and surrounded by mottled flesh. Whether by assault or surgery most of his top lip had been removed, this revealed a line of rotten yellowed teeth. He was wearing an opera jacket and a ruffled white shirt, it was dotted with dried blood. Laid across the desk was a women, inasmuch as the term could be applied. She was grossly obese, wearing a faded ballgown that she'd long since grown out of. Mismatched patches of fabric joined straining seams. Her skin was palid, arms and bare feet bore innumerable visible track marks. Her head was bald with an almost metallic sheen to it. The man beckoned them forth with something that could perhaps be a grin. "Good to meet you gentlemen", his words were slurred and he struggled with the Ms. The sprawling lump turned to look at them, turned back to the man that they had to assume was Mr Beast and whispered something inaudible. The two giggled for a moment, it was a hacking unsettling noise. Eager to get this over with Arnold moved forward his arm outstretched, he stopped at the cocking of a gun behind him but remained smiling. "Yes surely Mr Beast. I believe you spoke with my assistant Ms Dart, I'm Captain Conelly. You said you could provide us with the trading permits we'd need for our stay here." He got to his feet, raising a hand accusingly, "Of course I can. You calling me a liar?", spit hung from his gaping jaws, madness rested in his eye. He turned his ire on Alex meeting his gaze for the first time. "What you looking at pretty boy? You think I'm a liar too?" the P was shot out with difficulty and clearly worsened his temper. He rounded the desk and approached on the young addict. Arnold shifted his gaze but was uneager to turn knowing that the shotgun was likely centimetres from his spine. |
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| Arius Daemonis | 9 Mar 2012, 14:48 Post #17 |
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Guardian of the Dark Rain
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'Calm down gramps,' smirked Alex as they made their way towards the door. 'We're from Yandranstown, ain't we? These mugs don't got shit on us.' Alex was ready as they fell under the shadow of the man at the door. He felt strangely energised, almost as he had the first time he had turned to using his own stock of drugs. The drugs hadn't given him a buzz like this in a while now. How strange it was that a lack of them was now giving him the same effect. He felt agile and sharp, and the world was full of clear, solid edges. The man at the door was big, but his earlier reference to being from Yandranstown was no boast. He had dealt with thugs on a daily basis and as far as he was concerned, the Universe only produced one kind of thug. Their cogs all turned the same way. Alex could deal with this prat in a flash. He was sure of it. He didn't have to though, as they slipped awkwardly by and took the lift up to this Mr Beast. Who was, Alex quickly discovered, the ugliest motherfucker he had ever laid eyes upon in his life thus far. Which was saying something, as Yandranstown had produced its own very fine batch of uglies. The thug with the shooter didn't bother him. It was a big room, and Alex was a small target. You only got one or two shots before you had to reload, and knives didn't need to take breaks between cutting. Mr Beast didn't bother him either. Which was perhaps a bad thing, because sometimes it paid to know when you were out of your depth. So when the ugly bastard came slinking over, Alex had drawn no mental lines in his mind not to cross in his response to Mr Beast's attempt at intimidation. 'With respect, Mister, I know a liar when I see one, and I'm not sure you could pronounce a lie even if you wanted to.' |
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Roleplays I am in: Distant Stars Proximo Cowards and Fools: Civilisation The Ghosts of Altressa The Awakening Odin IV | |
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| TheZamboniKnight | 26 Mar 2012, 23:40 Post #18 |
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I am Nathan Fillion.
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He was letting her go? Score. Maybe the old coot wasn't so bad after all. Hattie grinned and took the goods, tucking them away in a pocket. "I'll be back 'fore long," she said instead of disappearing without a goodbye, which had been her previous plan. The old man had earned a little bit of respect from her. He seemed to have this stall nonsense under control, plus he wasn't trying to keep her and he'd given her pretties. He almost made up for being old and useless. Giving a little wiggle of her fingers Hattie slipped into the crowd, oozing into the traffic with the ease of experience. She kept her eyes open for likely targets but for the time being she was just getting a feel for the layout, wandering among the stalls and inspecting what they sold. This very practical, business-like idea wasn't the only reason for her sight seeing tour; she just wanted to look around. This planet didn't seem as poor and dark as hers did. It was kind of exciting. The booths sold a greater variety of things and it fascinated her. Did people really have excess coin to spend on trinkets like this? Despite this, most of the people she saw didn't seem to have much of value to trick out of them. She fished in a few pockets and come up with only trifles. And that's when her eyes landed on the absurdly well dressed man meandering among the stalls. Hel-lo, dinner. She could make enough off him to feed her family for a month. If she had a family, anyways. She tried not to think about it. "Excuse me sir. You look like a fine, upstandin' fellow; would you do a lady the favor of a game of cards?" She popped up in front of him, smiling sweetly. |
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"Drug induced awesome is not awesome, but a pretender to awesome. True awesome comes naturally from within oneself." Doc | |
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| Hyede | 10 Apr 2012, 03:29 Post #19 |
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Resident Shirtless Bishonen
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After the waste of time on the docks, Zachary was eager to arrange transportation off world as quickly as possible, even if only to put the guild at ease about his not being able to get inoculated on time. To that end he’d altered his path back to his shuttle to take him through one of the market districts where he might arrange said transport. He’d arrived in a timely fashion, not dawdling on his way through the residential district and once there, slowed his pace, looking over the various stalls and kiosks. Knowing his clothing put him out of place here, the young man ignored the stares he drew and conducted his business in a professional manner. So far though none of the shop owners dealt in transportation so the expedition was looking like a bust. “Excuse me sir...” went one attempt. “...Might I inquire...” “Well I’ll bee , you one of those high up fancy types aren't you?” “I wouldn’t say that sir, I was wondering, do you...” “So what’d you do to get yourself thrown down here? Sleep with the governor’s wife?” ‘What an odd thing to ask.’ Zach thought to himself and tried not to laugh. ‘Odd yes, but also true.’ “Thank you, I’ll look elsewhere.” the young man stated to the kiosk owner as he obviously wasn’t interested in conducting business. As Zachary turned to continue along to the next stall, he heard the voice of a woman speaking to him, directly to him. At once his courtesan training kicked in, he heard her accent and made note to reply in kind as it always helped make people feel better when they thought they were dealing with someone of a similar background. It was of course painfully obvious that he and the young lady who’d just addressed him were not of the same background based solely on how they were dressed, in fact she’d pointed out his fine clothing in addressing him, noting the difference in station herself. Still, Zachary wanted her to feel comfortable, especially since she’d invited him to a game of cards. “Why thank you little miss.” he started, doing his best to match the inflections in her speech. “I would very much enjoy a game of cards with a fine looking lady like yourself. I am however here on business so unless you can point me in the direction of a transportation kiosk, I am afraid we shall have to wait to play our game.” Zachary replied. Now Zachary was no fool, he knew he was out of place here and it would only be natural to be targeted by scammers. Ruffians were unlikely as even in the poorer districts there was still some semblance of law, but cheats, scammers and gamblers were to be expected. Although the young woman had delivered her lines fairly well, Zachary was adept at reading people, both his training and practical experience had taught him thus and it was pretty obvious to him that she was less then sincere in her wish to play a good spirited game. Still, he would play along, perhaps show her a trick or two when they actually played their game and once she’d realized he was cheating her back, if indeed she tried to cheat. Oh it would be a fun little game, hopefully for both parties. But first order of business was business, he needed to arrange transport. |
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“Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same.” “Government's view of the economy could be summed up in a few short phrases: If it moves, tax it. If it keeps moving, regulate it. And if it stops moving, subsidize it.” “Government exists to protect us from each other. Where government has gone beyond its limits is in deciding to protect us from ourselves.” “I've never been able to understand why a Republican contributor is a 'fat cat' and a Democratic contributor of the same amount of money is a 'public-spirited philanthropist'. Ronald Reagan Remember, I'm watching you... and I know what you've done. Dark Rain, Dark Rain über alles, Über alles in der Net …
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| SgtJesus | 12 Apr 2012, 23:20 Post #20 |
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Government in exile
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Mr Beast hardly seemed to register the youth's impertinance. Staring through him as much as at him. Vacant. The mound that likely sprawled to her feet, on the third attempt. Swaying horrendously she wandered up behind her partner, then smacked him round the head with a meaty paw. He jerked back into consciousness. "Now what can I do for you Gents." calm once more. The women walked away. As she passed she slid a single digit into her mouth covering it in saliva, and what appeared to be a small quantity of blood. Daintily she reached out and pulled the finger along the breadth of Alex's face, breaking contact on his ear lobe. As she passed her eyelids fluttered in a manner she likely considered coquettish. It looked like she was having a seizure. Arnold was aware of his terror, sweat seemed to be pouring from his armpits. His scalp felt unbearably warm and itchy. He couldn't show fear though, not here, not now. He concentrated every iota of his will into moving his legs, each foot heavily weighed down and jerky at the effort.Yet it was not enough to be unafraid, he needed the initiative. Somehow he must force this manic creature into submission. His hand moved seemingly of it's own accord, not fast but unexpected and with the force of years of hard manual labour behind it. The open palm striking the underside of the shotgun barrel, the impact hurt like hell but the weapon went upwards. It discharged a round into the ceiling filling the room with noise and dust. "Mr Beast", the natural coarse inflection of Arnold's voice worked to his advantage, the tremor was barely perceptible. The shotgun had been drawn back and lowered but still held another shell and the thug would likely react to the slightest of provocations now. "I have no patience for games. Now we understood you're a businessman so can you put aside the theatrics and let us get down to business?" Beast didn't bother to turn at the commotion, he just stood there inches from Alex's face. No motion to him save the flickering motion of his eyes and the gentle escape of drool from his tattered mouth. "Of course, to business", he reached into his back pocket and flipped two small leather booklets onto the floor both emblazened with the crest of planetary government, an apple tree surrounded by a ring of stars. Arnold reached into his pocket drawing the credits they'd put together out. Beast turned at the sound, his back to Alex, but shook his head slowly. "No need for that, I already have my payment.", he opened his jacket slightly to show the holstered pistol within. Out of nowhere the silent man from downstairs was in the room, pistol in hand and the fat thug raised his shotgun once more. An inane smile tugging at his cheeks. "Both of you have a seat, they'll be here for you soon enough." |
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| Arius Daemonis | 16 Apr 2012, 20:24 Post #21 |
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Guardian of the Dark Rain
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Motherfucker. Well, this was hardly surprising actually. Alex had first-hand experience of how badly things could go wrong when you dealt with scum, especially as he had been that latter party on more than one occasion. Great. Just great. They had come all this way, only to have their run end here? At the hands of treacherous thugs. Criminals foiled by criminals. If Alex was a man in greater possession of the appreciation of irony, he might have scoffed. He did not scoff. In fact, he made very little noise, but he did move. He moved very, very quickly. Alex had come to the realisation that a line had been crossed. A line that could not be redrawn. When they had first passed that checkpoint into the station’s star port and become fugitives to more than just the law, they had changed things for ever. The scales of relativity had been thrown wildly out of balance. This may once have been a situation of great dilemma, but for people who had been through a great deal more, it was but one more hurdle in the sprint towards freedom. Alex moved with the speed borne of a life spent running away from people who wanted to hurt him. Beast had turned his back to him, a grave underestimation that the ugly bastard might not live to regret. The concealed knife sprang to hand. Alex looped his arm around Beast’s, and pulled it behind his back, catching the ‘businessman’s’ other arm in his hand, robbing them of movement. The edge of his knife pressed into the skin of Beast’s neck, as Alex hauled him round to act a barrier between them and the shooters. ‘Drop ‘em, or find yourselves out of a paycheck,’ he snarled, pulling the blade closer as if to punctuate his point. |
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Roleplays I am in: Distant Stars Proximo Cowards and Fools: Civilisation The Ghosts of Altressa The Awakening Odin IV | |
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| TheZamboniKnight | 22 Apr 2012, 14:25 Post #22 |
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I am Nathan Fillion.
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The man's speech through Hattie off for a second. She wasn't expecting it, and the surprise of it filtered through her carefully designed mask of innocence. She recovered after a moment, her shock quickly turning into suspicion. Rich people didn't talk like her. Furthermore, she was not from this planet. Everyone spoke the same language, but she'd noticed the people in the market used different inflections. Their accent was different. And nobody dressed in fancy clothes like that would speak the way she did. That didn't make any kind of sense. It was like a dog walking on its hind legs. In a kilt. With a monocle and violin, playing a waltz so that the rats could dance at their midsummer ball. The fact that he was denying her game didn't do much for his standing in her eyes, but she hid that and continued smiling. "Oh yes, sir, I understand. Matter of fact, I came here in a fine, upstandin' ship that would be just the thing for a gentleman like yourself travelin' the 'verse. And we can have all the card games we want." |
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"Drug induced awesome is not awesome, but a pretender to awesome. True awesome comes naturally from within oneself." Doc | |
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| SgtJesus | 30 Apr 2012, 23:06 Post #23 |
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Government in exile
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Fucking idiot. The thought seemed to pop into Arnold's head with a resounding crack, but of course that was the gunshot. He half expected to look down and see blood pouring out of him. Instead he saw Alex low on the ground clutching at his leg. Beast limped as he moved but seemed to pay no mind to his own nearly identical wound as he made his way back to his desk. Nor did he seem to notice the the long gash running over his shoulder blade, the shiv had cut deeply as the addict had fallen but narrowly avoided the jugular. The silent man retained his composure throughout, now he kept his pistol trained on the fallen boy. Arnold remained frozen throughout, the shotgun still had a shell loaded and the slightest movement would likely send it through his chest. "Whose paying you then, the Union?", it was a wild shot but at this point talk was the only chance he had. Beast settled himself back into his seat, drew a bottle from the desk and took an unhealthy gulp. It poured through his tattered lips and soaked deep into his clothes wetting his wound. When he spoke it was through clenched teeth. "Paying? I'm not some sort of errand boy, I'm a business man. Independent contracter if you like but yeah I guess turning you in does make me civic minded.", his smile was obscene, "amongst other things." "They can't've put much of a price on our heads. We're nobody important just me and a few lads, the little shit not included, delivering goods where they're needed." Beast steepled his fingers, "You'd be suprised Mr Honest Smuggler. Point of order I'd reckon there's quite a few people out their looking for some desperat types that don't fit. An older feller, some young scabby tart, a little jumped up pile of piss who thinks he can handle himself. Plus you of course but aside from that pretty mouth I can't see the worth in you neither.", he sighed, "but the time and profile fits." "Look this isn't all we've got, there's more, much more. Just let us walk, keep the money and the passes, I'm sure we can sort something out." "No", Beast had grown tired of the exchange and returned to his bottle. "Look hold on to the kid, you know I'll be back then. We've got stock you wouldn't believe!", He took a step forward, caught up in the desperate appeal. That was a mistake. This time he didn't even hear the crack, the pain was there though. The silent man hadn't even turned he'd simply brought the pistol round and fired before returning it to cover Alex once more. The Floor rushed up to meet him, his thigh was on fire. He rolled painfully ont his back, the fat man was over him grinning. He spat a gob of foul black saliva onto Arnold's face. He blinked trying to clear his vision. Awareness would keep him awake and maybe alive. The walls were grey, the ceiling black. The man had greasy hands covered in dirt, he had a thin layer of hair on his upper lip. He had a strange green mark on his forehead. |
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| Hyede | 3 May 2012, 17:52 Post #24 |
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Resident Shirtless Bishonen
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Having already been observing the young woman’s features while he did his best to mimic her inflections, Zachary didn’t miss the momentary falter as he caught her of guard. His intention hadn’t been to confuse the girl, rather to make her comfortable in speaking to him. The confusion though didn’t stop her from telling him just what he wanted to hear, a ship ready to take passengers. The only issue was, could it accommodate his shuttle? The craft was his home and place of business so the first point on the list was to find out if there was sufficient space to carry the vessel. “That’s right kindly of you miss and I’m glad to hear it.” Zachary replied, keeping up his mimicry. “If your ship is what I need then I’ll be lookin’ forward to playing with you. Lead the way.” the young man continued and gestured out into the square, indicating as he’d said, that she should lead on. He would likely drop his mimicry when he spoke with someone in authority or at least willing and able to talk hard numbers. Although his vessel was small for a space craft, it still had specific space requirements that had to be met. Once couldn’t squeeze a twelve foot tall shuttle through eleven foot cargo doors after all. |
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“Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same.” “Government's view of the economy could be summed up in a few short phrases: If it moves, tax it. If it keeps moving, regulate it. And if it stops moving, subsidize it.” “Government exists to protect us from each other. Where government has gone beyond its limits is in deciding to protect us from ourselves.” “I've never been able to understand why a Republican contributor is a 'fat cat' and a Democratic contributor of the same amount of money is a 'public-spirited philanthropist'. Ronald Reagan Remember, I'm watching you... and I know what you've done. Dark Rain, Dark Rain über alles, Über alles in der Net …
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| Arius Daemonis | 7 May 2012, 15:28 Post #25 |
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Guardian of the Dark Rain
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The knife clattered away across the floor as a streak of white hot pain speared through his leg, and spread outwards like the tentacles of some voracious ocean predator. Alex was very aware of the blood. There was a lot of it and he was sure it couldn't all be his. A man as skinny as Alex didn't pose much of a target, and he had been sure that what did present one had been carefully secreted beneath the putrid form of Beast. What kind of a henchman shot through his boss? For that matter, what kind of a boss walked away from a shot wound and a blade gash without so much as a grunt of discomfort? With a grimace and a groan, he wrapped his fingers about the hole in his leg, desperately trying to plug the wound and stop the bleeding. He would be damned if he lost his leg over this. He was snapped out of his pain reverie as Arnold too collapsed to the ground, sporting a similar injury to himself, something which a part of Alex was privately glad to see. At least he wouldn't limp out of here the only fool. That is, if they ever lived to escape. Escape. Well, they had done that before with worse odds, perhaps they could do it again now. Alex cast a desperate look about the room, seeking out anything that might provide them with salvation. That obscene shamble of flesh aptly named Beast, his desk, its surface and anything it held hidden from his view down on the ground, the guards, their petulant faces and swollen bodies. The green mark on the fat man's forehead. The way the light- Wait. The what on the fat man's forehead? |
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Roleplays I am in: Distant Stars Proximo Cowards and Fools: Civilisation The Ghosts of Altressa The Awakening Odin IV | |
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1:49 PM May 21
