Refezen

Hunafoli Saga

Inside Throrald and his brother settled down to a game while the rest of the household went about their work. It was there, on his high seat and between moves, that his eyes drifted. First towards his shield mounted on the wall, then to the handle of his sax, and lastly to the carvings of the Gods he had etched into the door frame. It had always been meant as welcoming to the gods and as a reminder to the residents of how far the gods had led them. Yet there was something different in them now, a sense of presence he hadn't felt since he'd decided to sail for his new home. He wondered what it might mean, what new message might the gods be sending him?

"What troubles you brother?" Bjor said suddenly, snapping Thoralds king from the table "you don't often play so poorly."

"Poorly? Three more moves and I'd have escaped." He snapped back as he tore his attention away from the carvings and rising form his seat. "I was a boy when last I spent summer home and working the fields. Tell me, did you long for the sea and fight when you stayed home?" He asked.

"Is that all, one summer and already you long to harry again." Bjor replied with a laugh. "You will find yourself another battle before long, of that I have no doubt."

Before he could reply however one of the hired men strode inside announcing a traveler had arrived at the gates. "Perhaps that would be it." Bjor muttered with a quiet laugh though Thorald paid him no mind. Instead he made his own way outside to see this traveler.

Once outside he was struck by such a sight that he thought perhaps the Odin himself was at his gates, leaning upon a spearing the likes of which he had never seen before. The others that were still working in their fields might have thought the same as several had been drawn away from their work and watched him as he made his way towards the gate. Once he was closer he could make out the form of a women and noted her gaze aimed towards the house. He threw his arms out wide in greeting and shouted a warm "Good day!." before he made it to the gates, loud enough so that both she and the hands in the fields could here. "I am Thorald, head of this house."

Stopping at the gates he finally noticed the effects of the chilling air on the women and the weary look of one who had traveled some distance. "I hope I can welcome you inside," He said as he opened the gate ushering her in "You look as if you've felt the chilled air for long enough. I have a place by the fire for every traveler, and a meal for any that is good company."

Hunafoli Saga

It was in the days when Ingolfur Arnarson had made a home of Reykjavík, that many men took ships to the new land, one of them Thorald, son of Kol the Broad, and brother of Bjor with whom he had made the journey west. They were both tall men of dark hair and long beards, though were Thorald was taller Bjor was the broader. They had made their way north from the Bay of Smoke which Ingolfur had claimed, settling along the bay Hunafoli atop a ridge that overlooked the river Blanda. Their fields spread wide and south, engulfing a massive boulder at the southern border of which Thorald had demanded they encircle.

The Gods themselves had guided them towards it, for the stone was a home to the land spirits, Thorald had claimed when he first laid eyes on it. Out of respect he had ordered the long house to be raised far north of the stone, the wights had been there far longer then he and it would be disrespectful to clamor about so close to their home. Still he made sure that sacrifices were often made, when they had cleared the woods to raise his longhouse he had offered fresh milk from one of his cattle; when they had brought a bounty of fish from the river he sent the fattest to the wights; and now at the end of summer when the first frost had settled across the fields he had come himself with a cup of ale. Wrapped tightly in his cloak and carrying only his sax underneath it so as to not frighten them.

"I direct this sacrifice to the landvaettir, in thanks and seeking only protection for my herds over the winter months." He said before taking a small drink of ale and leaving the rest at the base of the stone. "My thanks, good friends. I shall return soon to dine at your home and welcome you within mine." He said as he finished and turned away to the north towards a distant wisp of smoke that rose over the hills.

He tried to ignore thoughts of the warming fire below that smoke, and the fresh comforts within his longhouse. It was a long trek over the hills before he stood at the walls of his home field. Inside which he men and women worked hurriedly in preparation of the winter. A few turned as they saw him coming up the final hill, a few shouting greetings or just a simple wave, but most kept to their work. Only Yrsa, his hound, rushed out to great him in person through his brother Bjor followed slowly in the hounds wake.

"Brother," Bjor said as he cross the fields towards his brother "you should have sent a thrall, you're soaked through." He said waving at Thoralds trousers now drenched from the frost covered grass.

"Better to take the offering myself, than to risk offending the spirits Bjor." He said as he passed his brother "This land has been good to us, would you risk that for a pair of dry trousers and a warm morning by the fire?" he didn't bother to wait for a response, as he knew Bjor would have none, and instead made for the longhouse. "How are the cattle doing?" He asked once they'd made their way up the hill and inside wall.

"The cows are inside the longhouse, we spent most of the morning getting them into the pens but they have room for the winter. I've had Duana stacking hay for them all day." Bjor replied following behind "The bull is grazing in the eastern field. I've shepherds keeping an eye on it."

"Good, keep it there, I won't waste hay to feed it over the winter and it will be good for both a sacrifice and a feast in a few weeks." He replied as he made it doorway of the house "Now though, I need another drop of ale and a meal." And then he turned inwards into the warmth of the longhouse.

A New Saga

Welcome, and strap in for an interest check that I think will scare most people away before they reach they end. I'll be honest I haven't sat down and done much of any writing in quite a while, admittedly I'm an old-school tabletop kind of guy, but this is the kind of story I have no real chance of getting my table to take seriously so here I am.

As the title suggests, sort of, I'm looking to start an RP that really circulates around the Saga's, specifically the Icelandic family Saga's. By which I mean I want to capture the spirit not copy any particular one. Blood-feuds, greed, sorcery, honor, lust, and romance will all be present in this story, the best and worst that people have to offer, all while trying to be 'accurate' to the setting if not always 'realistic'. My hope is to start with a pair of characters in the early ages of settlement and end many generations later perhaps spurning christian influence or doing battle with aggressive Norwegian Kings looking to claim the land. Obviously this story would involve multiple characters, with large time gaps at appropriate times. Some characters will change over the course of story with age and struggle, others will die horribly.

Now I predominantly play male characters and will gladly take the roles of farmers, huscarls, and godi. I would prefer a female partner to take the roles of powerful matriarchs, prophesying seidkona, the occasional shield-maiden, perhaps even a Gaelic slave should it fit. Though this isn't necessarily a 'requirement'. Do keep in mind these Saga's will involve many side characters and one characters could easily sail off towards the horizon for several years before coming back into the story much later to take vengeance on a rival.

As it stands I have a place to start this particular Saga, with a blood-feud that will likely become central to the story for some time. Starting the story at the start of the Icelandic age of settlement when there was still plenty of land to be claimed. My idea here is to start with a simple settler, a man who has only recently raised his own homestead along one of the fjords with the aid of his brother. From here my initial idea was to get a partner willing to start with a Seidkona or volvua who would come across the small homestead and request hospitality likely near the onset of winter. Now I usually don't press for attraction in my stories and I'd still like it to appear authentic but an attraction would form and a child would eventually be born. This child being the continuation of the saga. Now in this setting the brother would be source of the eventual blood-feud that would spawn here, and I have a few ideas for how make it happen but I think I've laid the groundwork for the story to start and would prefer to mull over the later details once I've found a partner.

Well I hope that lays the basic groundwork for what I'm looking for here and we'll dive into logistics. I guess I'd consider myself to be a casual level writer as I haven't done much writing in a while, but I do like to sink a lot of time into my work. I'm also a very busy man with my work and usually absolutely beat at the end of the day so I can only guarantee one or two post a week depending what I have to work with. Of course that means my aim is to go for four or five paragraphs per post as a minimum but again that will have a lot to do with what I have to work with. I'm not a stickler just give me detail and substance something to chew on, ask questions and feel free to shoot me ideas a good Saga should be dotted with twists, turns, and old treachery. Also without sounding like a pretentious douche I would like to ask that you have some basic understanding of the Setting, roughly 9th century Iceland, and that these are not the legendary saga's these are far more grounded and seemingly based on historical events. Beyond that just be open to various themes as things could get quite unpleasant in the saga's.

Anyways I think that gets me through the basics, so if anyone's interested shoot me a PM and we'll do some brainstorming, if not I'll just go skulk in the corner with the Egil's Saga.

Good Luck...

...you're going to need it.

I'm looking to put together a few one on one's and I'd just like to preface this by trying to explain just the kind of atmosphere I like in my stories. I like struggle, I mean struggle against impossible odds, I have killed more of my characters in mad acts of defiance and desperate last stands than I've had actually reach their final destination. And when they do make it to the end of story they are almost always a little broken. I adore stories about the power of the human spirit, I personally am stubborn to a fault and my characters will often reflect that trait to varying degrees of bullheaded. I am fascinated by the way characters can develop in the face of diversity whether they break or grow stronger, I want to watch them fall or grow, I don't want to see a character do a bad thing and suddenly become a bad guy. Go ahead and expect to see stories of people against difficult odds, characters that will be weak compared to the forces arrayed against them. Stories where the characters will likely be dragged through the mud, some might give up, but many will still keep crawling through simply because they have too. Stories that could, in a few circumstances, have two completely different characters by the time they're 'done'. Stories in which I can only promise the characters will have a simple camaraderie, like that of soldiers and survivors, but may still very well not like the other.

Anyways I've likely failed to explain anything, if someone has a few words that would better describe my madness let me know. And now that I've run off half the folk who were reading, here's some plots.

World of Darkness

The life you lead is a Lie. Your darkest fears aren't make-believe. They're real.

We live our days completely ignorant of the true terrors lurking around us. Only rarely do our experiences draw back the veil of shadows and reveal the horror in our midst. These glimpses into the supernatural can cause us to retreat into comforting lies, “There are no such things as monsters” but once you've glimpsed this world of darkness there's no place to hide.

You can't live in the same world as everyone else then, God how you'll want to, but it won't be possible anymore. Something will stir a morbid curiosity, a need to know, a need to find the truth. But you will never find the truth. There are no answers to the questions you'll have, only more questions. The best you can hope for is to gain some sense of how much you don't know. Each mystery will only lead to more mysteries. It's an endless labyrinth with no exit, and by the time you realize that the door you entered through will be gone.

Each shadow only hides more shadows.

These first few are centered around the World of Darkness, a setting that is designed to our world through a dark looking glass. The idea that we're alone, that we're at the top, that monster aren't really out there is all one big lie we tell ourselves. And when that lie is reveled you're forced to ask yourself if you're really seeing monsters or if you're just mad? And if they're are monsters where did they come from, what do they want, what can you do, can you do anything. It's a slippery slope into madness and death. Like I said some stories will have different characters and depending on how long a WoD game goes at least one character is going to die, one won't be entirely human anymore. WoD is one of the few games I know that keeps track of a characters Morality, because it's going to be called into question. After all what is a Monster really? The boy cursed with a terrible power that feeds on the nightmares he instills in others, or the man who puts a gun to that boys head believing the nightmares have gone to far? I like horror that makes me think, makes me ask questions, it's why many of the monsters and villains I create will have tragic elements to them. Not always, sometimes evil is just plain evil, but sometimes it's just doomed.

Anyways as to actual plots I don't have any synopsis for this setting, mostly because it's a very flexible setting. What I can say is that I've got a tendency to play male characters and generally they are of a similar vain (I apply to the 'write who you are' school of logic) and am looking for someone with female characters in this mad world. I want to create a story with a pair of characters who are, at the start, normal people. People who have been through something that changed their world. It won't have been pleasant or peaceful, it will ostracize them from friends and family, it will make them questions their own sanity. And most importantly it will drive them to ask questions, questions that will lead them to each other. They'll watch, study, learn, maybe even fight (my characters will almost always fight, it's a natural aggressiveness), and try to make sense of things going on around them.

From there the characters will develop. Eventually, and I want to stress eventually, they will fall, or rise depending on the situation. The might awaken to the forces of magic, one might be pulled away to the halls of the Fae only to returned Changed, one might decide to dedicate themselves to hunting monsters and protecting his city block or track of woods. One might even be the monster being hunted, or doing the hunting themselves.

I can also say that my mind is the country these days, I do a lot of camping in the summer and rural setting are always interesting places for me to start. As a former partner of mine said it's a natural direction for characters unsure of their sanity, or not sure if they saw something, or if they can even trust anyone. Whether both characters are travelers in a small town, hikers at the same campground, or what have you it's just an easy place for characters to stumble into one another without outside authority immediately getting involved. That said if you like the idea of WoD but hate the idea of a rural setting shoot me a PM and let me know I'm always willing to work with partners, after all it's as much my story as yours.

Apocalyptic

So this one is actually a specific plot I cam up with a while back, and honestly I think it would work great as a group RP but I'm not sure I'd have time to run it and still want to see the story unfold. So hey if someone reads this and thinks "Hey it would make a good group Rp and I'd like to help GM it." let me know and I just might be convinced to give it a shot. Otherwise I'm happy to leave it a one on one.

The general idea was inspired by the fact that most apocalypse focus on everyone being mad, criminal, and out right depraved. Instead of circumstances where diversity often brings people together. The actual nature of the apocalypse won't be nuclear, viral, supernatural, extraterrestrial, or what have you. It will have been instability. It will be a collection of events mostly unrelated and isolated that collectively bring down the world order we know. In this madness I imagine many would try to gather with friends and family, they would move to hold out together in strong places to protect each other only to be struck down by new conditions. Famine breaks out at the same time as a new infection is raging the coast, one person decides to go home and help his family bringing that contagion with him, that sort of thing. But some simply wouldn't have anywhere to go, maybe they're family was claimed in the first wave, maybe they couldn't comprehend the danger and couldn't get out before it was to late, maybe they're simply stuck. Either way the story I imagined revolved around a single apartment complex, most of it would have emptied in the chaos but a few individuals, mostly unaware of the others existence have remained behind. From there they would band together, trying to survive this new mad world.

Sure they're will be dangerous people they'll have to deal with but it won't be the largest problems. The real struggle will be asking themselves what they are willing to do to get through all of this. Things won't fix themselves and not everyone can always be saved or satisfied. So what do you sacrifice and what hope do you cling to when everything just keeps crumbling slowly.

Turns out I lied about it being a specific plot, but hey, I do that. Like I said before it's all about the struggle for me. Now I should mention that this idea doesn't require all characters be from the same apartment, perhaps your character is simply travelling through town when something happens and come to reside in the place I don't know and I'm not terribly particular. I just think it's an interesting setting to explore.

Fantasy.

I did actually come up with a few Fantasy ideas the other day, most are partially inspired by Norse culture, music, poetry. This section of the interest check will be the shortest, but also the most tertiary in personal preference for starting.

The first idea is that of an old warrior, a man who struggled his entire life to earn his place beside the gods. All until his daughter was killed and the seers told him she wouldn't earn a place in Valhalla. Knowing her to be a warrior in her own right he forsook the battle field and instead traveled the world in search of a way to earn her a place in those halls. Until he was granted a vision from Hel who promised to barter his own place in Valhalla for his daughter to become one of the Valkyries. A bitter deal, but one he willingly signed in blood. So he returned to his life, robbed of his warrior spirit and spending his days toiling at the field and the forge until his age caught up with him. So when he died his spirit was taken into darkness and his daughter was made a Valkyrie, and though her former life was disjointed images she eventually comes to remember, at least in part her father, and when she can't find him among the fallen she eventually looks elsewhere until she finds him broken in darkest pit of hell. Breaking her oaths and forgoing her place she rides to free him, unaware of the doom it will bring to world.

The two will battle against the world, she committed to freeing him, him to defend her from the hosts she angered in his defiance. How far would that bind carry them? Even when Ragnarok itself is waged due to their efforts would they still remain stalwart at one another's back? Would they remain loyal when the world burns?

I'll admit this is the most 'Feel good' story I have in mind, but goddammit sometimes I can be sentimental. Also before anyone gets pissed I know I've taken liberties with Norse culture, and I intend to take even more inside the story, but that's just to make everything flow a little better.

I've got other ideas in this vein but I think my hand is starting to cramp so I'll add them later if I need to try and strum up some sxtra interest.

I should probably include all the requirement stuff here as well. I consider myself to be somewhere between the advanced and casual level by which I mean I like to think I'm a decent writer, but I won't pretend that I'm some master of grammar. Look over what I've written here and think of it as a template for my style, long-winded, a little disjointed, likely riddled with odd grammar issues, but full of ideas. I take my time on posts, usually 1 or 2 a week, and only hold my partners to the standards I set for myself. It's just an annoyance when I put several hours into a 5 paragraph post only to get a few lines back. I'm interested in the development of characters and so it's a rare thing when I'm not interested to know what they're thinking. Obviously I'm down with adult themes, I've no qualms with blood, violence, language, the works so long as it applies to the characters and the situation, I won't add things just because I want the story to be 'adult' I use writing to ask questions not sate some desire for pointless romance or smut. The characters will see horrible things, they'll do horrible things, but they'll also do good things, they'll laugh, they'll cry, they'll be people. Beyond that I can't think of anything pressing and I think I've done a thorough job of running folks off with a lack of clear point by point ideas. It's a talent really.

And frankly if none of this makes any sense to you but you think "Huh, this guy seems like he could be good to spin a story with." Just shoot me a PM and we'll see what we can do, even if it's outside what I've put down here. Honestly I couldn't even begin to write down my ideas, unless I just don't go to work. For like a month.

Shadowrun - The Sound and the Fury (Snow Crash Inspired)

Damien silently observed the team as they set about their work. Traction's message made it clear she was busy with the digital two-step, Cath was twisting her words and...doing whatever it was she did when she was stroking thin air, even Yegor was offering contact information. "Suppose it's time to get to work then." He grunted leaning back in his chair. Work didn't mean he had to leave his new seat after all.

First off he needed a view, so he slipped into AR and pulled up a handful of mapsofts. He started small, street maps of the area, the Fixer might not have been useful enough to give him an address but unmarked warehouses on the waterfront meant smuggling den to him, and smuggling den meant there were at least a dozen quiet ways to get in and out of the area. He started looking for those, quiet alleys, underpasses, tunnel entrances, a sewer line maybe? Sure the team wouldn't like the idea but sewer runs were the price one simply had to pay to survive. Still he made that one a last resort and focused on quick ways to ex-filtrate. Getting in couldn't be hard after all, but if things went explosive, and when it came to Kali and Yegor he found it safer to always assume it would, he wanted a backup for his backup.

He eventually settled on a relative straightaway of a aside road, the kind of thing that would get them out of the Warehouse distract fast, assuming there wasn't any trouble. Beyond that he picked a handful of alleys some straight, in case the roads were blocked, others zig-zaged back and forth out of the area, in case they needed to loose a tail. Of course there was also the option of mounting a bullbar onto the truck if things needed to be done in a hurry, but he doubted he had time for that. Though the idea did get him thinking of more creative exit options. Air? To expensive, not to mention he didn't know where to start looking for a craft large enough to fit the whole crew and small enough to store in their current accommodations. Something for the to-do list though he thought. Water, then? Surely there would be at least one boat capable of moving a handful of runners in a bind. He'd have to find something beforehand, break down it's security, and tie it into his network but it could very well save their lives.

He already had his 'shopping list' so he decided to start checking off a few items. Not least of which was actual footage. It was too far to send one of his lockheads out on it's own. he'd have to take a little road trip ahead of the crew to put together some aerial surveillance. So he skipped to his next item, he needed a route for his truck to take the team to the waterfront. It wasn't that he didn't trust the team with his wheels, he didn't trust anyone behind the wheel of his baby and he didn't much care for the idea of babysitting them VR all the way there. Still that was easy enough, a quick glance at his Mapsoft uploaded to his gophers autosoft. Beyond that he needed more information, information the rest of the team was far more capable to provide.

"If we're talking contacts I might be able to make a call." He said as he cleared a bead of sweat from his brow "Some of the guys I used to run with have a heavy hand in the smuggling business. Doubt they'd be able to say which warehouse to hit, CD's aren't really their thing, but they might give us an idea of what shacks to avoid." It made sense after all, they knew full well he had no interest of knocking them over, hell they might float a few nuyen his way for letting them know that some chaos might be hitting the water front. Then again the might hold a grudge if they thought he was responsible. Have to word my questions carefully then, he decided as he leaned forward in his seat.

"Either way I've got some work I need to do before this drek really kicks off, So what do we know?" he asked looking towards Traction "And what's our plan?" his gaze turning back towards the rest of the room.

Something like WoD

Let me preface this interest check by just saying, while I'm a huge New World of Darkness (WoD) fan, that loves stems more from books like Hunter and Promethean. At least for the start of the story, turning my original characters over to Geists, Changelings, maybe even Beasts when the book comes out, is an idea that only makes those originally human characters all the more fun to play. But that's just it, I like WoD because I can start a character as a normal old schmuck (or at least seemingly normal in the case of Promethean) and watch him evolve. What I'm trying to say here is that while I can be convinced to play all manor of characters, I don't want to create a vampire/Werewolf/Demon or what have you kind of story. I'm willing to watch characters die, awaken, turn, or fall down a hundred rabbit holes but I want the fall to be a part of the story.

Anyways, I'd wager a lot of people just closed the interest check since they have no idea what I'm talking about, so for anyone unsure of what WoD is here's a little primer.

Abandon hope all ye who enter

The life you lead is a Lie. Your darkest fears aren't make-believe. They're real.

We live our days completely ignorant of the true terrors lurking around us. Only rarely do our experiences draw back the veil of shadows and reveal the horror in our midst. These glimpses into the supernatural can cause us to retreat into comforting lies, “There are no such things as monsters” but once you've glimpsed this world of darkness there's no place to hide.

You can't live in the same world as everyone else then, God how you'll want to, but it won't be possible anymore. Something will stir a morbid curiosity, a need to know, a need to find the truth. But you will never find the truth. There are no answers to the questions you'll have, only more questions. The best you can hope for is to gain some sense of how much you don't know. Each mystery will only lead to more mysteries. It's an endless labyrinth with no exit, and by the time you realize that the door you entered through will be gone.

Each shadow only hides more shadows.

In short it's the the real world seen through a dark looking glass and filled with monster, both human and otherwise. The setting is a doomed world, albeit rather than overwhelming oppressive cataclysmic impotence and moral degradation, it focuses on hidden horrors, kitchen sink despair and moral degradation. And that is why I love it, for the struggle against impossible odds, because the goal isn't to master anything but to simply keep a grasp on your humanity. With the base book you just try to survive, with Hunter you try to fight back, with Promethean you literally try to gain humanity.

Now that I've gone through all of that I'm going to explain one simple fact. WoD doesn't have a overlaying mythos. This isn't a call of Chutulu kind of setting, things can be removed and added for the sake of the story so don't think you have to go study how all these books I've been listing interact. It's all about the basic setting and overall mood.

So now that I've scarred most folks off lets get on with the interest check proper.

I've got a tendency to play male characters and generally they are of a similar vain (I apply to the 'write who you are' school of logic) and am looking for someone with female characters in this mad world. I want to create a story with a pair of characters who are, at the start, normal people. People who have been through something that changed their world. It won't have been pleasant or peaceful, it will ostracize them from friends and family, it will make them questions their own sanity. And most importantly it will drive them to ask questions, questions that will lead them to each other. They'll watch, study, learn, maybe even fight (my characters will almost always fight, it's a natural aggressiveness), and try to make sense of things going on around them.

From there the characters will develop. Eventually, and I want to stress eventually, they will fall, or rise depending on the situation. The might awaken to the forces of magic, one might be pulled away to the halls of the Fae only to returned Changed, one might decide to dedicate themselves to hunting monsters and protecting his city block or track of woods. One might even be the monster being hunted, or doing the hunting themselves. The story can change whenever it needs too, I've got more ideas then my notebook can handle, I can kill one character, only to have him return at a latter date, and replace him with a Promethean that your character stumbles upon in an old temple.

I hope I'm making sense, if I am shoot me a PM we can brainstorm a starting point and if not it's back to the drawing board for me.

I should probably include all the requirement stuff here as well. I consider myself to be somewhere between the advanced and casual level by which I mean i like to think I'm a decent writer, but I won't pretend that I'm some master of grammar. I take my time on posts, usually 1 or 2 a week, and only hold my partners to the standards I set for myself. It's just an annoyance when I put several hours into a 5 paragraph post only to get a few lines back. I'm interested in the development of characters and so it's a rare thing when I'm not interested to know what they're thinking. Obviously I'm down with adult themes, I've no qualms with blood, violence, language, the works so long as it applies to the characters and the situation. The characters will see horrible things, they'll do horrible things, but they'll also do good things, they'll laugh, they'll cry, they'll be people. Beyond that I can't think of anything pressing and I think I've done a thorough job of running folks off with a lack of clear point by point ideas. It's a talent really.

Shadowrun - The Sound and the Fury (Snow Crash Inspired)

Damien felt strong, fresh, young even. All the miles he'd been feeling since Detroit had simply washed away. In fact his every limb was twitching with a new-found power, the likes of which his Gopher simply hadn't afforded him since it was new. The joy of a new engine he thought, an oil chance usually gave him a feeling of refreshment alone, but the new engine he'd loaded into the truck was like stepping back in time. It had always been a thrill, replacing all those pesky physical nerves with the sensation of a freshly tuned drone or vehicle. Then again when he'd thrown the rod and originally ruined the engine it felt like having a rib torn out of his chest. So perhaps inside his rig wasn't always the best place to be.

He took a long moment but eventually drove his senses back into his own body, letting the sensation of the truck slip away to be replaced by the dull ache of his own joints. With one quick command the engine on his gopher sputtered to silence. Inside in the meat he sat motionless in a fold-out chair, just to the side of his Gopher inside a cramped garage. Well 'garage' was really giving it too much credit, in reality it was a tiny concrete lockup with just enough room for his truck, bike, and the chair. So most of his worldly possessions. Back in Detroit he'd earned himself a real garage, space for four cars, hydraulic lifts, engine lifts, a wall of tools, and enough bench space to maintain drones of damn near any size. He'd been comfortable, stable, complacent, and stupid. He forgot the basics, the background-checks, the recon, and it'd almost cost him everything. Well live and learn, that's what he did best, get back to basics, lick his wounds, and work his way back up.

That was when Tractions message came across his AR "Briefing?" He groaned "'bout damn time." He never liked the whole idea of getting set up by someone else. Especially not a Fixer. He didn't like owing anyone favors, favors get you stuck in the line of fire. Still the team was here and it wasn't like many of them were used to a life on the road, so he stuck with it. He was about to leave his seat when a familiar sound crept through the air. An engine, not one of his but one he'd quickly committed to memory. Kali's Suzuki. It had taken a while to recognize it's own unique noise, all Jap bikes sounded inferior after all, but simply being able to avoid the women had made it worthwhile.

Leaning back in his chair he went VR again, only this time he jumped into his eye. Without a doubt it had always been the strangest jump to take, all his physical sensation left him but he was still looking out of his eyes. At least for a moment, before he took the drone ahead, outside of its socket and into the air. He floated through a cracked window and out into the large lockup scanning the area. All clear he thought when he saw Kali disappear behind elevator doors. Stairs then, he hadn't seen her in several days and he didn't care to imagine the scent she'd leave in that small a space. it wouldn't be that much longer of a trek up to the house and he could get a moment or two in the sun. He observed a few passerby's on his way, a young foolish couple, a sulking dwarf, and a troll that seemed content to simply stair into the sun. Perfect place to disappear, He thought while rolling his floating eye, who would ever suspect six ragtag misfits living together in this place.

Still he floated along for the house they'd been provided using the back window to slip inside, then down a hallway and into the common room. So far it was only Terminal, Kali, and Recluse, of course, but from the look of things the call had already come through. Better get their in the meat, he thought and jumped out, sending a simple command for his floating eye to navigate itself easily down on to the center table.

once again in his own body, he made his own way up to the house, locking the door behind him. if the floating drone had caught anyone's attention it certainly paled compared to the looks folks threw a one eyed cowboy as he wondered up to the house. Still it was a short walk and no one payed him any trouble ignoring him as soon as he was past. So he wondered inside and into the common room a simple Return command to his eye as he made his way to an open chair, the two reuniting as he sat.

"So, CD's are sellin' these days. Wish someone would'ave said that when I was a boy had a whole box of the damn things. Probably could've retired properly." He muttered with a wry smile when the women was done. Though frankly he was relived for something so...standard, though she made it sound all so easy that his hairs were standing on end. Nothing scared him more than easy. He shot Traction a sideways glance, he had questions to be sure but none he wanted to ask while this new Fixer was on the line so instead he sent the young Decker a simple AR message 'Any way to tell if this Fixer is as...simple as she sounds.'

Shadowrun - The Sound and the Fury (Snow Crash Inspired)

I don't really have a preference either way, I've got no problem with just a few paragraphs of intro before jumping into a job. No matter your choice, tomorrow will be my only chance to post anything until next week. I'm off to celebrate the Fourth starting Thursday, and if I am around before Monday I'll probably be hungover.

So have a good Fourth for those who celebrate, and a good weekend to the rest.

Shadowrun - The Sound and the Fury (Snow Crash Inspired)

Damien

Real Name: Damien Strand
Alias: Nomad, Wendigo, or just Cowboy
Age: 54
Gender: Male
Metatype: Human
Specialization: Vehicle Rigger

Image

Appearance: Damien tends to stand out in UCAS territory due to his style of dress, always in his leather coat and usually wearing the his vest beneath it. Never having tried to blend in with the locals. He moves with a sense of determination, though he's got a limp that clearly favors his right leg. Despite his active life and exercise it's his age that's starting to show the most. His face is weathered and worn from long hours on the open road. His hair and beard both graying and the former receding, and if cyber eyes were able to convey emotion Damien's would show a man who's given up on believing in things.

He's a man used to being on the move, even if he's not open carrying his rifle he's still got it nearby along with most of his worldly possessions. In fact to see him removed from either of his vehicles for any length is something of an oddity to the point that his hands might start to twitch as if he were reaching for the handlebars of his Growler.

Personality: "What's the saying? Don't fuck with an old man in a young man's game. Yeah something like that." As a long standing member of the California Rangers Damien is, by all accounts, a cowboy. Individualistic by nature, he had to survive when backup was usually far out and never timely. Always having to make due, to squeeze every ounce of life from his rides, his drones, and his guns. He's a practical person, never paying much mind to complex ideals or philosophies. Instead he judges everything and everyone by the merit of their work. Which has lead him to have a generally unwelcoming look about him. Though in reality he can be quite welcoming if others can stand his gallows sense of humor. Even though he left the Rangers he's no deserter, as far as he's concerned Cal Free gave up on him, and so long as someone's got his back he's got theirs.

To him Running is just coming out retirement, the pay is still low and the work is still dangerous. He knows he's been out of the game for a while but he still believes he's got a responsibility to pass on his hard won wisdom. Like generally trying to use non-lethal weaponry when it comes to security and civilians, though he doesn't shy away from brutal efficiency in regards to gangers (especially Yakuza) and other dregs. Dregs, of course, being anyone without his sense of discipline. Over the years he's become far more careful in his actions, well aware that he's grown physically slower, so if there's going to be violence he'd rather be seeing it through the eyes of a drone or the scope of his rifle. Though he still hopes for the Johnson that asks him to assassinate a bottle of whiskey, that'll be the first job he ever considers doing for free.

Bio: The California Free State, one colossal fuck up after another. It's like something in the soul of California requires chaos, either in culture, government or in geology. So what does that say about the men who fight for her. The Cal Guard, The Desert Rats, the Rangers, the Vistas if you wanna count a bunch of Elf hatin' loons, and about a half dozen other rag tag militias. Hell if it wasn't for Hestaby we would have the lost the Northern Crescent years ago. It's like they say "Welcome to California. Now go home."

I ran in those shadows for four years, not much other work for a kid like me at the time. Oh sure I did some odd jobs at the Oil fields, maintaining equipment, trucks, the odd drone, but the only thing worse than being poor in Cal Free is being Meta. So I did whatever it took, mostly running guns or illegal tech. Occasionally we did some Humanitarian work and helped move the Meta's out of the State. It wasn't easy, we lost a lot people between Apache raiders, Local Go-Gangs, competing warlords, and of course Corp Security. So I went to the only place that actually seemed to be holding together, I went to China Lake and joined the Rangers it wasn't any safer but at least it seemed...Stable.

Like I said though California needs chaos and stability never lasts long.

When the Ring of Fire hit Japan we all thought the Japs would fall back to their own country, give us a chance to start putting the pieces back together. No one could have expected Saito, the Cal Guard was gunned down in LA and I was still under the knife, getting a Control rig installed, when the japs headed inland. By the time we'd lost the capital the Rangers had already taken horrendous losses and we turned to hit and run, out goal turned from beating the Japs back to just stopping their advance. Still I felt like I had something to be proud of for once, we fought the Japs on both fronts, while holding back the Tir, Aztlan and the Pueblo Corporate council. California was fractured as bedrock. But She endured.

She endured for 10 years, with the Japs halted at the Central Valley.

And once again California turned mad.

With the destruction of the Monticello Dam in 2072 we earned our first victory over the Japs, it only cost 100,000 lives, trillions of dollars in damage, and thousands of acres of farmland. All the while the one's responsible, so called California loyalists, were more than willing to lynch meta's and...anyone really. It was a hard thing to admit that the Cal Free was doomed and eventually I realized that we didn't have any 'good guys' left fighting, we only had bad and worse guys. The Golden State was dead, we'd been fighting for the State of Confusion.

I'd spent most of my life in the Rangers, I was poorer then when I'd signed on, worn down, looking through a shiny new pair of cybereyes, and even less sure what was going to happen tomorrow. So I decided I'd had enough fighting for the Cal Free, I still had contacts taking the smuggling run through the UTE and Sioux nations, I could get to UCAS maybe find some work, maybe find something stable. So here's to the Cal Free may the San Andrea's crack open and swallow her whole.

Cyberware: Cybereyes (Left eye is a retinal drone, and the right is equipped with vision magnification), Vehicle Control rig
Loadout:
Weapons: Cavalier Arms Crockett EBR Sniper Rifle(with detachable imaging scope, Shock pad, and Bi-pod),
Colt American 2066 heavy pistol, and a survival Knife.
Armor: Armor Vest, Thermal resistant and Non-conductive.
Vehicles: Yamaha Growler with Rigger interface and Toyota Gopher with Rigger interface and Heavy weapon
mount (Currently empty), basic auto mechanic tool kit
Drones: 2 Lockheed Optic-X's with Sensor Suite's. 1 MCT-Nissan Roto-Drone equipped with 2 AK-97's
Bio: 4 Trauma patch's, and 3 long Haul slap patches, Medkit
Misc: Climbing gear and Survival Kit

Opinion of teammates:

Traction: I'll admit didn't think much of the gal when we first met. Didn't look like much of a decker to me and I'd heard some rumors that made me weary. Then again the word Yakuza makes my skin crawl. But I ain't so proud I can't admit when I'm wrong. She knows her business, hell she knows the wireless world better then I ever will. Then again, back in my day we didn't have internal decks. Anyways, between all our guns and magic it'll be nice to have someone to watch my back in the Matrix. And who knows, a couple years, some training, a few trips outside, and she could easily be the only one to retire. Not to mention she's got to be smart enough to not get back into the life.

As far as Damien can tell Traction is the one closest to being a sort of prodigy, someone he can pass on his knowledge to. He hopes to show her a few tricks outside the matrix and inside a drone. At least then if she does betray him, he'll at least have the last laugh when his lesson saves her life.

Yegor: I know the look he's throwing me, seen it plenty back in Cal Free. He's heard what California is like for Meta's and I ain't gonna pretend some of the stories ain't true, he would have been condemned to Orktown back home. It's a damned shame too, boy would have made one hell of a Jackboot in the Rangers. He's got the skill to be sure, especially considering the lack of actual training. He's got the drive, could have let the world drown him but instead...well in his case he properly just told the world to fuck off. The only thing he's missing is some discipline to keep his mouth shut and maybe teach him to pack a little lighter. Well he might not trust me, not sure he ever will, but he'll learn that even a Cal breeder can have his back. Who knows with someone watching his back kid just might make a name for himself.

Damien generally returns Yegor's outward coldness, not talking to the Ork unless he feels the need, usually to offer a point of advice or crude joke. It seems like the simplest expression of respect. Not quite sure of the Orks receptiveness to his experience. Damien intends to make damn sure the Ork lives long enough to prove he's worth betting on.

Cath: I'll be honest, I've never trusted a clever tongue, rather take an insult than a flowery compliment, and the magic? Well, out in Cal Free it's the shamans everyone trusts, the one's listening to spirits and conjurin', well not me. I've been through the Mojave, and the shit I saw there... well, lets just say I'd rather have a ball of flame to my face than having a spirit creepin' around. Still It's nice to talk to someone who remembers a...different time, was going to say simpler but that'd be a load a' shit. She thinks she better then me I'm sure, after all an Elf at my age is still in her prime, while I'm grey and senile. So long as she tries to act pleasant in conversation we get along, after all we're the only one's here that really understand how to age a good bottle of liquor.

Damien is torn when it comes to the Elf, he respects someone aged like himself but at the same time can't really judge her work. After all she doesn't really work, not that he'll say that to her face. He knows the value of diplomacy in the shadows, but considering the long standing kill-on-site order that the Japanese have on Rangers he's just not used to it being effective. The magic however just makes him uncomfortable and he regularly tries to steer clear of the topic in conversation.

Recluse: Did I ever mention I don't trust magic, I did? Well good, sure they ain't bad, plenty of 'em do good work, there's just something about it that makes my skin crawl. This kid's got some talent behind that rifle to be certain, to heavy a caliber for me, hard to stay on the move, but it's nice to know anyone creeping up on me has a cross-hair creeping up on them. Could do with some time in the desert, that'd kick his stims or get him killed, try rolling over and hope the problem will go away with Apache's around and you're gonna end up a bloody smear behind trailing behind their bikes. I've used Longhaul plenty, huntin' raiders or pulling a long stretch under the hood, but overuse is risky business, and the Deepweed that'll ruin him.

To Damien Recluse looks like the Rangers, damn good at what he does but just worth the investment of his own time. He respects the skill but simply can't get behind the shortcomings. Maybe if he could leave the stims and take some initiative he could make a name for himself in the shadows. As it stands it looks like once the team moves on Recluse will simply fall through the cracks.

Kali: What in the ever lovin' hell? I seen ten shades of crazy back home, but never thought to imagine this. And we fought a Jap Divison that called themselves 'the flesh eating mask', I ain't makin' that up. This though, gal should be twenty years dead with the way she goes off. See, this is why I don't trust magic, none of it, dries up sense like the fucking Mojave of sanity. There's no advice to give her, no helping, no standing within a ten foot radius as far as I'm concerned. Frankly I think I actually prefer her brain-dead on a BTL at least then I can get work done in peace. I mean come on, she rides a damn Suzuki, a fucking Jap bike!

If Recluse is like looking at the Rangers, Kali is the fucking Cal Free personified. Mad, fractured, and bound to get people killed. Yet somehow, and despite numerous bets otherwise, she's still alive and still a thorn in Damien's side. As long as she keep to the BTL's and far away from Damien the two can at least suffer the others existence. The minute she tries arguing that Suzuki is a better bike than...well, anything but a scooter really, is the day he startes looking for a BTL that'll instill permanent brain damage.

Shadowrun - The Sound and the Fury (Snow Crash Inspired)

Well it looks like the magic angel should be pretty well covered. So I'm just tweaking an old rigger of mine that will work perfectly here, that and I really, really like playing riggers. I'll have the CS finished tomorrow after work.