LimeyPanda Member
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- LimeyPanda 11 yrs ago
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Got the post up: I leave it to you to explore the house a bit: It's pretty big, so expect it to have all the trimmings, as it were. Beth's in the study, on the second floor: So you can either interact with her when you wake up, or you can interact with the artifact, or you make bacon!
Beth let Chris disappear inside her house and, instead of rushing to follow him; she went to the kitchen and flipped the switch on a coffee maker. Truth be told, she could happily have curled up in a bed and slept for a while: but this chest bullshit wasn’t going to solve itself, and she doubted that Chris would have had a solution for the situation, other than maybe give up some incredibly powerful item to a person who hired robbers to get it. As soon as she had started slinging that Icy juju around, she had known that giving up the artefact was not exactly on her to-do list.
Power was cool, and suddenly she had been given a taste of superpowers: was there really a chance she’d give up something like legit superpowers for money? She had money: money wasn’t an issue. Super powers though? That could make her a fucking icon, a household name: even. If she wanted anything: it was that sort of recognition. The idea of being that damn cool was very appealing to her.
After making herself a cup of coffee, and putting some quieter music on, Beth decided that she should probably go about with dealing with the artefact. As much as she talked about ‘crashing’ here: it was only a matter of time before they became targets. There were a tonne of people who’d be missing the artefact: The people that hired Chris and Beth, for a start; then there were the people who had just gotten the item stolen; Heroes might even get involved soon.
No…Time wasn’t on their side.
The first thing Beth did was pick up a mobile phone: a disposable pay-as-you-go phone, with no chip or traceability. She had a dozen or so lying about the house, in case she needed to make a call. You didn’t do as well as Beth in the underworld if you didn’t have a few back-ups lying about. She punched in the number for the middleman that got Beth and Chris together. She needed to buy at least a little time before the employer started asking questions.
Three rings later, and she heard a deep male voice on the end of the line. The familiar voice of the middleman, she’d only met him once: a fat little man who spent way too much time inside and far too long starting at her body when he thought she wasn’t looking. If he weren’t so important to getting jobs, she’d have kicked his ass 10 ways to Sunday.
“Hello?”
“Ah, Inks. I heard that the robbery got a bit hairy.”
“Yeah, Fist-o and I have to lay low for a few days, at least. We’re in a safe house, but we got the item. I’m at one of the safe houses with him and the object: Can you make sure to inform the client?”
“Which safe house are you a….”
The question was cut off when Beth ended the phone call: already tired of the middleman’s voice. She didn’t want to answer the question anyway, because then the fat fucker and their client would know she was lying. This way at least, she had a few days before the pair would have to deal with the client-side pain in the ass.
That just left finding out what the fuck they were dealing with. She fished out a camera from a set of downstairs draw, and stalked up the first flight of stairs: wondering which room Fist-o was occupying. She had been surprised by how quiet the man had been, and she half expected him to be making a phone call or two of his own…That or he would be touching himself.
Quickly enough, she found the room Chris was crashing in, and she just laughed out loud as she saw the half-naked man, sprawled on the bed. Seeing him there, chest bare and sleep quietly, she suddenly realised he was more attractive than the average schmuck in the underworld. She nodded approvingly, before turning to glance at the artefact. ’So what the fuck are you? Magical box or not, I know a guy who might figure you out.’
She took a couple of pictures, before leaving Chris alone in the room with the magic box. She didn’t know what how long it would take for her contact to deal with her request, but she’d promise him a big paycheck for a quick return. She wanted to know what the hell they were dealing with: and more importantly, if they could get those powers back, and permanently.
She fired up a computer in the study, scanning in the pictures and sending a fax to a certain contact who probably spent far too much time behind a computer desk, with Cheetos dust on his fingers or something.
After finishing with the fax, Beth felt the wave of exhaustion from earlier come over her again: just like after she’d frozen the guard. Her eyes felt super heavy, and as she stared at the screen of the computer, a copy of the fax still on it, she felt herself drifting off to sleep: slumped backwards in the computer chair: hat still on her head.
She didn’t move again until the next day.
Power was cool, and suddenly she had been given a taste of superpowers: was there really a chance she’d give up something like legit superpowers for money? She had money: money wasn’t an issue. Super powers though? That could make her a fucking icon, a household name: even. If she wanted anything: it was that sort of recognition. The idea of being that damn cool was very appealing to her.
After making herself a cup of coffee, and putting some quieter music on, Beth decided that she should probably go about with dealing with the artefact. As much as she talked about ‘crashing’ here: it was only a matter of time before they became targets. There were a tonne of people who’d be missing the artefact: The people that hired Chris and Beth, for a start; then there were the people who had just gotten the item stolen; Heroes might even get involved soon.
No…Time wasn’t on their side.
The first thing Beth did was pick up a mobile phone: a disposable pay-as-you-go phone, with no chip or traceability. She had a dozen or so lying about the house, in case she needed to make a call. You didn’t do as well as Beth in the underworld if you didn’t have a few back-ups lying about. She punched in the number for the middleman that got Beth and Chris together. She needed to buy at least a little time before the employer started asking questions.
Three rings later, and she heard a deep male voice on the end of the line. The familiar voice of the middleman, she’d only met him once: a fat little man who spent way too much time inside and far too long starting at her body when he thought she wasn’t looking. If he weren’t so important to getting jobs, she’d have kicked his ass 10 ways to Sunday.
“Hello?”
“Ah, Inks. I heard that the robbery got a bit hairy.”
“Yeah, Fist-o and I have to lay low for a few days, at least. We’re in a safe house, but we got the item. I’m at one of the safe houses with him and the object: Can you make sure to inform the client?”
“Which safe house are you a….”
The question was cut off when Beth ended the phone call: already tired of the middleman’s voice. She didn’t want to answer the question anyway, because then the fat fucker and their client would know she was lying. This way at least, she had a few days before the pair would have to deal with the client-side pain in the ass.
That just left finding out what the fuck they were dealing with. She fished out a camera from a set of downstairs draw, and stalked up the first flight of stairs: wondering which room Fist-o was occupying. She had been surprised by how quiet the man had been, and she half expected him to be making a phone call or two of his own…That or he would be touching himself.
Quickly enough, she found the room Chris was crashing in, and she just laughed out loud as she saw the half-naked man, sprawled on the bed. Seeing him there, chest bare and sleep quietly, she suddenly realised he was more attractive than the average schmuck in the underworld. She nodded approvingly, before turning to glance at the artefact. ’So what the fuck are you? Magical box or not, I know a guy who might figure you out.’
She took a couple of pictures, before leaving Chris alone in the room with the magic box. She didn’t know what how long it would take for her contact to deal with her request, but she’d promise him a big paycheck for a quick return. She wanted to know what the hell they were dealing with: and more importantly, if they could get those powers back, and permanently.
She fired up a computer in the study, scanning in the pictures and sending a fax to a certain contact who probably spent far too much time behind a computer desk, with Cheetos dust on his fingers or something.
After finishing with the fax, Beth felt the wave of exhaustion from earlier come over her again: just like after she’d frozen the guard. Her eyes felt super heavy, and as she stared at the screen of the computer, a copy of the fax still on it, she felt herself drifting off to sleep: slumped backwards in the computer chair: hat still on her head.
She didn’t move again until the next day.
I'll be getting a post up in this tonight. Sorry for the delays
Pending the end of the mission, Daniel had been involved in a busy couple of days. After the landing, he was called in and received a short verbal ass-whooping by Col. Black for getting his mech scrapped, before being informed of a 'pending competency evaluation.' It hurt his pride somewhat to be called into question so much for a single mistake, but it was a hell of a mistake to make: so he didn't raise complaints. What annoyed him more was that the heretic was being promoted! Despite the fact he almost scrapped his own mech, were it not for the Holy-man's actions.
Following that fun piece of information, Daniel was informed that his quarters were being relocated, and as such, he would be sharing a building with other military personnel of interest: Which was a list that seemed to include all of the people from his mission and, assumedly, the others from the same operation that led to Annie and Carolyn’s rescue. It took him most of a day to move in, and after the exercise was complete; he collapsed on his bed and slept from dawn till dusk.
Following the day spent on moving in, he decided to make a visit to the local church. Daniel served as a priest-of-sorts there: but he did not own the facility. The facility itself was owned by a businessman, and run by an appointed fat man known as 'Reverend' Michael Montana. Michael was an obese, greasy looking Hispanic, who spent more time eating than spreading the word of the lord. Daniel put up with the man, but he had fantasized a number of times about the various ways Montana could be slain. His personal favourite involved forcing the stale bread he offered as the body of Christ down the gullet of the hypocritical bastard.
Indeed, the Church seemingly a place as much about hypocrisy as it was about god. Daniel longed for the day he could run the church or, better yet: own it. He would turn this house of sham into a house of worship!
Daniel entered the Church near the end of the service, which was being run by one of the more likable priests, a woman who went by the name of Jessica Dawn. He sat at the back of the meagre pews, letting the service commence undisturbed. At the end of the service, he made brief pleasantries with the woman, before asking if she would mind hearing his confessions. The request initially shocked the woman, but she agreed: and they went into a private room.
"Jessica, I have sinned grievously, and I need your advice. During the last mission, I let hubris and pride cloud good judgement, and I nearly got myself and a person of importance killed. What more, I have felt nothing but hatred for another, following his own success. Petty envy and pride have clouded my judgement, and I have grown to hate the heathen beyond what is just."
The woman opposite him listened passively, and nodded as he finished his words. She took a minute to contemplate, before speaking up. "Have you wronged the man?”
Daniel paused, stunned by the blunt response, before shaking his head. “No, at least I don’t think so.”
Jessica nodded, and then spoke again. “Have you spoken out against the man?” Again, Daniel shook his head in response, showing a simple ‘no’. “So lastly, have you shared your feelings of sinful pride and envy to anyone other than me and god?” Daniel paused, before shaking his head one last time. Even in the face of Black’s chastisement, he kept his resentment under wraps, for fear of sounding petty. “Then your confessed sins are heard, and in the eyes of god: forgiven. Go and meet this man, make amends with yourself and try and make peace with him.”
Daniel sighed in disbelief, amazed at the woman’s ability to soothe and abolish the worries and offer forgiveness. “Truly you are a blessing. Thank you.” Daniel stood up and rose to exit the room. As he opened the door, Jessica cleared her throat.
“One more thing, Daniel…” The taller man looked down at the still seated Jessica, confused by the call back. “…Try not calling him ‘heathen’ or some such: Use his name, for pity’s sake.” She smiled at Daniel, and he offered a friendly smile back.
This wasn’t going to be easy…
Later that day, at ‘Brucey’s Bitchin BBQ’
At the new apartment complex, Daniel moved through the hallway, in search of which room was Brucey’s. Eventually, he discovered the man was out, as were several others from the missions: attending a BBQ being run by the heatha…being run by Brucey. It was a place only a few minutes away, but perhaps Daniel could offer a better peace offering than words there.
He went into the nearest market district and procured himself a package, wrapped up in Brown paper. After that, he merely had to follow the hub-bub of people talking about some ‘crazy guy throwing a BBQ’ and eventually, the sound of old music, and he was soon at the BBQ itself.
The BBQ was a display of decedent enjoyment: Large wastes of electricity and fuel and food were on display, but that didn’t matter. The group had earned some R&R, and it seemed Brucey was being generous with the good food.
Finally, Daniel managed to corner Brucey, with his little wallaby on a leash and surrounded by many men and women. He felt his mouth twitch slightly at the further display of sin, and he called out to the man of the hour. “Hey, Hea…Brucey.” Waiting for the Australian to look up, Daniel tossed the brown bag at the man. Inside was a bundle of whole trout, a rare commodity in these times. “A gift, To celebrate your promotion. I guessed you’d have all the meat covered, well enough.”
Kiku's main sheet updated and Daniel post up. Rob, if you want me to edit anything, just say: I've taken a few liberties namely with a small church structure and assuming minor actions would be taken against Daniel for trashing his mech in what would likely be reported as a 'reckless move.'
Well I'm the Queen, so I assume that is a yes.
Gat said
What? It cant be both stylish and functional? :p
Scrap expendature
Left Arm: Remove Flamethrower, Add Mech Shield [-1 Scrap]
Right Arm: Keep Power Fist, Add Shock Mace [-1/2 Scrap(If an additional slot is needed)]
Legs: Unchanged
Torso: Replace Infrared Scanning Package with motion detection Scanning Package, If only one scrap remaining, no further change. Else if two scrap remaining, add one shoulder slot, and add HE Missile unit.
Top If only One scrap remaining, add Floodlights.
Technology Marches On unit- Aerial scout drone: Dove-An unarmed Scout drone that allows Daniel to scout out an area before diving into the fray. It is equiped with an Infrared Scanning Package and a Cloaking Device.
I think if you want to solidify yourself as the agile melee person, you probably want to go for something like stronger leg muscles: or mutated legs or something: That scratches the mobility issue, while also having the chance to be upgraded for strong leaps, more speed and perhaps a charge bonus/First attack bonus.
Raen Elvarasi said
Damn. Now if I did wings it would feel Cliche. : / Damn pandas...Something witty...more insults...
I imagined you'd do something to buff the use of your sword: carve a niche as a more direct melee person. Maybe something like empowered leg muscles for moving faster, or perhaps something like retractable fingernails: Lady Deathstrike style.
Just spitballin' of course.
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