Boom Boom i'm on fire. Please don't shoot me.
swich01 Member
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Mixtape Ghost N
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Most Recent Posts
"Lykinia... Why are my robes on fire?"
I wish i had the power to be interesting.
I laughed despite myself.
I do believe selling knocked off genes is illegal however.
I do believe selling knocked off genes is illegal however.
Malek is the perfect infiltrator. Of tank battalions. He just needs a software package to make his voice sound like its coming from inside him all muffled. And like five separate people.
I suppose there is that standard problem of finding ways to have characters unknown to each other meet in a natural way without some sort of situation to force people to come together. OR BLOW THEM APART HAHAHAHAHA.
Martin is out and about in Estella Isle doing sweet F.A soaking in the sights so whatever goes.
GM truth.
GREETINGS SQUISHY NOBLE, I COME BARTERING FOR YOUR CONTACTS.
My word.
WHICH ONE?
I say!
PLEASE CONTINUE SERVITORIZABLE CITIZEN.
three hours later.
I WAS UNABLE TO FULFILL THE TASK GIVEN TO ME. I APOLOGIZE INQUISITOR. FURTHERMORE I AM NOW BARRED FROM MOST DRINKING ESTABLISHMENT ON THE PLANET.
GREETINGS SQUISHY NOBLE, I COME BARTERING FOR YOUR CONTACTS.
My word.
WHICH ONE?
I say!
PLEASE CONTINUE SERVITORIZABLE CITIZEN.
three hours later.
I WAS UNABLE TO FULFILL THE TASK GIVEN TO ME. I APOLOGIZE INQUISITOR. FURTHERMORE I AM NOW BARRED FROM MOST DRINKING ESTABLISHMENT ON THE PLANET.
God that post ended up quite long. Feel free to critique folks. Or bump into the fella. What could be better than a confusing meeting in a confusing town you've been in for all of six hours.
A man pulled up next to the pump and got out his pickup. Walking around the bed he unlocked the tank cap and slid the nozzle home. Looking up as he filled the tank Martin couldn’t help but behold the ivory tower they call NEST Headquarters. He had nothing against the folk in NEST, hell he knew what most of them stood for and agreed but… well. When a woman builds a fastness like that it’s hard to believe they come in humble supplicating peace.
As the pump clicked done he replaced the nozzle, screwed the cap closed, flipped the cover and stalked off to the station. Still… I ain’t here for NEST he thought as he handed the pretty, bored looking girl behind the counter a couple twenties grabbing a can of something awful as he left. Walking back to his pickup he thought about how many years it had been since he’d been in town.
More than a decade at least, it’d take some time to… re-adjust. Verthaven was always unique. This city always seemed to have a life of its own and a vengeful life at that. Closing the door he wondered where he’d set up. Perhaps Union-point hills, there might be irony in that somewhere but it would be inconspicuous at very least.
Pulling out the station it struck him. “God I wonder if the folks are still around” he muttered to himself. It was a pretty sobering thought. He should probably find out. Maybe even try and talk to them. Things didn’t really leave off all that cuddly.
He was getting pretty close to Estella Isle. This would be his last chance for a while. He dropped the clutch, rocked the stick and put the foot down. Hearing the engine he’d put so much time into growl and reverberate he remembered why he was going home.
Slowing as he reached the city proper he’d noticed the national guard milling around in their typical slightly aimless way. Though perhaps less aimless than usual. If this wasn’t a sign he didn’t know what was.
Walking away from a rundown little news stand outside one of the trolley stations in las Palmas he started to read. Several minutes later sitting in his pickup he breathed out. How did the fiends become this. Throwing the broadsheet on the seat next to him, he pulled away back into traffic towards Uni bridge. Traffic was slow around the bridge. Seemed the guard were performing “random checks” on vehicles crossing. Randomly selecting larger vehicles that could move contra-band.
As he pulled up a sergeant waved him to the side. “Offf course” he muttered as he pulled in to the little roadside check point. As the sergeant approached he wound the window down pulling his wallet from the jacket under the newspaper on the passenger seat.
“Hello there sir, we are performing random searches on vehicles across the city in response to the recent incident at the summer fair. Mind if we search your vehicle sir?” The man behind the wheel could almost see the script provided by some officer at his desk. “Sure thing” he responded. The sergeant waved to one of his men and two cops with a sniffer dog emerged from round the side of a humvee. Turning back the sergeant continued “Can I ask you for yo… thank you sir” finding the man’s service card proffered through the cab window.
One of the officers guided the dog around the pickup whilst the other followed with an angled mirror. Looking from the card to the man the sergeant hands it back and looks to the cops. Looking back to the man at the wheel he said “Well sir we’re done here, everything looks good. You drive safe now.” “Thank you sergeant, have a good one.” The man said while pulling out onto the bridge. Looking out across the lake toward the downtown bridge and standing rock mountain he couldn’t really blame them for missing the hidden compartments. They were after all hidden exactly where you couldn’t normally put a compartment. The hermetic sealing would have fooled the dog even if he decided to run drugs. The irony of the thought brought something of a smile to his face.
Ignoring the accumulated students of university row he drove till he crossed the next bridge and made his way through Chinatown. He cruised the lower union point hills for some time. It was near sunset when he happened on a building with a letting sign that looked liveable. Parking up he stepped out. Looking left and right he saw a street with kids playing and women chatting. Signs of a decent neighbourhood, he wondered what it would look like if there hadn’t been an attack on downtown.
Pushing open the heavy swing door he walked into the lobby. Old fashioned wood skirting and olive painted walls greeted him along with a wooden office booth. Sitting in the swivel chair was a young girl maybe ten years old with dark hair facing away from him. Walking up to the counter he tapped a couple of times to get her attention. Whipping round from some sort of games console she nearly fell from the chair mouth agape. “Is your” the man started to say when she leapt off the chair to run through the door at the back screaming “PAPPY PAPPY PAPPY MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN” The maaaaan watched her go with his customary frown and laughter in his eyes.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Out of the back walked an older Italian gentleman. Tall with a prodigious gut and thinning hair, he was probably quite handsome once. “Who’s out here scarin my granddaughter? Oh? Somebody new, well if you’re done scarin children what can I do for you.” He spoke like a man familiar with everybody regardless of how long he’d known them.
“Sorry about that sir I didn’t mean any harm. I just noticed you have space and I’m just back in town. I was looking for a place to lay my head.” Said the man
Laughing the old man returned “Think nothing of it, Amelia here is a big’ol fraidy cat.”. “Am not” came a small reply from behind the old man’s legs. “So fella before I think about givin you a tour how about you tell me about yourself."
“Fair enough. My name is Martin Kirkman, I served as a grunt in Iraq for three years and an EOD for five. I left the military about four years ago and began work as a custom parts fabricator. I work from home now. I felt it was time to come home and face the old demons, though it seems you’ve got your own since I left town.” Martin Explained.
The old man considered him. “You served? Then you got your card right?” the old man asked. Martin lifted his card from his wallet and handed it over. Taking the card the old man barely looked before handing it back. “My names Caesar, I got a couple places you could look at.”
“Anything on the top floor?” Martin asked. “Suppose you’ll be looking at that one first then. Go open the elevator, you can take the stairs if you want but not me.” Caesar huffed. Walking to the elevator Martin pulled back the cage and stepped inside followed by Caesar and Amelia. Caesar pulled the cage closed with a grunt and fingered the button for the top floor, “there’s roof access just don’t go chucking things off the side, kids play down there”.
Walking out the elevator they climbed one more flight of stairs to a landing with two doors. “That one leads to the roof this ones the room” unlocking and pushing open the door Caesar walked into the living room. “There’s a small bedroom and bathroom with a shower and that’s about it, not much else to say about an attic room. The last occupant skipped town a couple weeks ago. Mary, that’s my wife, has been up to tidy it up but other than that.” Caesar shrugs. “deposit and first month’s rent and its yours, there’s a garage round the corner for a few extra bucks.”
Martin reached into his coat and pulled out a simple leather bill clip and separated out the money. Counting it he handed it to Caesar who took it, counted it and looked at Martin “what was it you said you did” Caesar asked.
“Custom parts fabrication.” Martin retorted. “That pay well?” Caesar continued. “Yeah pretty good actually, especially for discontinued auto parts and various prototype parts." I’m just not a big fan of banks” Martin Explained. “Me nither all told, Mary calls me old fashioned for it. Still the place is yours, here’s the keys. Come down latter when your settled in and we’ll get the paperwork done. Come on Amelia stop being a nosey pants an come downstairs with me” Caesar called back half way out already.
Martin spent the next hour carting boxes and bags from the pickup to his flat. When all was said and done there was several piles of bars and belts and chain and other assorted bits and pieces. One of the few things not in chunks was his television. Turning it on he sat down on the floor and started to work.
Two hours latter assorted bits had been converted to a rowing machine, treadmill, two chairs, a table, a work bench and a rack for tools and a television. Before leaving his flat in Arizona Martin had broken down his main possessions for transport. It was far quicker to just use his power to rebuild something from its original parts rather than try and construct it again from scratch. Martin now turned his attention to a cavity in the wall. Reinforcing and sealing it he created a small door which met with the rest of the wall seamlessly. Opening it with a push of an internal latch he passed his gear inside. Leaving only his “Thermals” which he wore and his licensed homemade M1911 reverse holstered on his left side. Closing the door and releasing the latch he could relax with his secret hidden.
Putting on his coat he went downstairs and filled out the paperwork with Caesar. “That you done for the night?” Caesar asked. “I’m thinking I’ll take a walk around and try and suss the place out a bit before I turn in for the night.” Martin responded.
Walking down the street Martin found himself wandering as he wondered. Was it good to be home? He wasn’t sure but he sure as hell was here now and not backing down till he’d paid his debt.
As the pump clicked done he replaced the nozzle, screwed the cap closed, flipped the cover and stalked off to the station. Still… I ain’t here for NEST he thought as he handed the pretty, bored looking girl behind the counter a couple twenties grabbing a can of something awful as he left. Walking back to his pickup he thought about how many years it had been since he’d been in town.
More than a decade at least, it’d take some time to… re-adjust. Verthaven was always unique. This city always seemed to have a life of its own and a vengeful life at that. Closing the door he wondered where he’d set up. Perhaps Union-point hills, there might be irony in that somewhere but it would be inconspicuous at very least.
Pulling out the station it struck him. “God I wonder if the folks are still around” he muttered to himself. It was a pretty sobering thought. He should probably find out. Maybe even try and talk to them. Things didn’t really leave off all that cuddly.
He was getting pretty close to Estella Isle. This would be his last chance for a while. He dropped the clutch, rocked the stick and put the foot down. Hearing the engine he’d put so much time into growl and reverberate he remembered why he was going home.
Slowing as he reached the city proper he’d noticed the national guard milling around in their typical slightly aimless way. Though perhaps less aimless than usual. If this wasn’t a sign he didn’t know what was.
Walking away from a rundown little news stand outside one of the trolley stations in las Palmas he started to read. Several minutes later sitting in his pickup he breathed out. How did the fiends become this. Throwing the broadsheet on the seat next to him, he pulled away back into traffic towards Uni bridge. Traffic was slow around the bridge. Seemed the guard were performing “random checks” on vehicles crossing. Randomly selecting larger vehicles that could move contra-band.
As he pulled up a sergeant waved him to the side. “Offf course” he muttered as he pulled in to the little roadside check point. As the sergeant approached he wound the window down pulling his wallet from the jacket under the newspaper on the passenger seat.
“Hello there sir, we are performing random searches on vehicles across the city in response to the recent incident at the summer fair. Mind if we search your vehicle sir?” The man behind the wheel could almost see the script provided by some officer at his desk. “Sure thing” he responded. The sergeant waved to one of his men and two cops with a sniffer dog emerged from round the side of a humvee. Turning back the sergeant continued “Can I ask you for yo… thank you sir” finding the man’s service card proffered through the cab window.
One of the officers guided the dog around the pickup whilst the other followed with an angled mirror. Looking from the card to the man the sergeant hands it back and looks to the cops. Looking back to the man at the wheel he said “Well sir we’re done here, everything looks good. You drive safe now.” “Thank you sergeant, have a good one.” The man said while pulling out onto the bridge. Looking out across the lake toward the downtown bridge and standing rock mountain he couldn’t really blame them for missing the hidden compartments. They were after all hidden exactly where you couldn’t normally put a compartment. The hermetic sealing would have fooled the dog even if he decided to run drugs. The irony of the thought brought something of a smile to his face.
Ignoring the accumulated students of university row he drove till he crossed the next bridge and made his way through Chinatown. He cruised the lower union point hills for some time. It was near sunset when he happened on a building with a letting sign that looked liveable. Parking up he stepped out. Looking left and right he saw a street with kids playing and women chatting. Signs of a decent neighbourhood, he wondered what it would look like if there hadn’t been an attack on downtown.
Pushing open the heavy swing door he walked into the lobby. Old fashioned wood skirting and olive painted walls greeted him along with a wooden office booth. Sitting in the swivel chair was a young girl maybe ten years old with dark hair facing away from him. Walking up to the counter he tapped a couple of times to get her attention. Whipping round from some sort of games console she nearly fell from the chair mouth agape. “Is your” the man started to say when she leapt off the chair to run through the door at the back screaming “PAPPY PAPPY PAPPY MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN” The maaaaan watched her go with his customary frown and laughter in his eyes.
“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Out of the back walked an older Italian gentleman. Tall with a prodigious gut and thinning hair, he was probably quite handsome once. “Who’s out here scarin my granddaughter? Oh? Somebody new, well if you’re done scarin children what can I do for you.” He spoke like a man familiar with everybody regardless of how long he’d known them.
“Sorry about that sir I didn’t mean any harm. I just noticed you have space and I’m just back in town. I was looking for a place to lay my head.” Said the man
Laughing the old man returned “Think nothing of it, Amelia here is a big’ol fraidy cat.”. “Am not” came a small reply from behind the old man’s legs. “So fella before I think about givin you a tour how about you tell me about yourself."
“Fair enough. My name is Martin Kirkman, I served as a grunt in Iraq for three years and an EOD for five. I left the military about four years ago and began work as a custom parts fabricator. I work from home now. I felt it was time to come home and face the old demons, though it seems you’ve got your own since I left town.” Martin Explained.
The old man considered him. “You served? Then you got your card right?” the old man asked. Martin lifted his card from his wallet and handed it over. Taking the card the old man barely looked before handing it back. “My names Caesar, I got a couple places you could look at.”
“Anything on the top floor?” Martin asked. “Suppose you’ll be looking at that one first then. Go open the elevator, you can take the stairs if you want but not me.” Caesar huffed. Walking to the elevator Martin pulled back the cage and stepped inside followed by Caesar and Amelia. Caesar pulled the cage closed with a grunt and fingered the button for the top floor, “there’s roof access just don’t go chucking things off the side, kids play down there”.
Walking out the elevator they climbed one more flight of stairs to a landing with two doors. “That one leads to the roof this ones the room” unlocking and pushing open the door Caesar walked into the living room. “There’s a small bedroom and bathroom with a shower and that’s about it, not much else to say about an attic room. The last occupant skipped town a couple weeks ago. Mary, that’s my wife, has been up to tidy it up but other than that.” Caesar shrugs. “deposit and first month’s rent and its yours, there’s a garage round the corner for a few extra bucks.”
Martin reached into his coat and pulled out a simple leather bill clip and separated out the money. Counting it he handed it to Caesar who took it, counted it and looked at Martin “what was it you said you did” Caesar asked.
“Custom parts fabrication.” Martin retorted. “That pay well?” Caesar continued. “Yeah pretty good actually, especially for discontinued auto parts and various prototype parts." I’m just not a big fan of banks” Martin Explained. “Me nither all told, Mary calls me old fashioned for it. Still the place is yours, here’s the keys. Come down latter when your settled in and we’ll get the paperwork done. Come on Amelia stop being a nosey pants an come downstairs with me” Caesar called back half way out already.
Martin spent the next hour carting boxes and bags from the pickup to his flat. When all was said and done there was several piles of bars and belts and chain and other assorted bits and pieces. One of the few things not in chunks was his television. Turning it on he sat down on the floor and started to work.
Two hours latter assorted bits had been converted to a rowing machine, treadmill, two chairs, a table, a work bench and a rack for tools and a television. Before leaving his flat in Arizona Martin had broken down his main possessions for transport. It was far quicker to just use his power to rebuild something from its original parts rather than try and construct it again from scratch. Martin now turned his attention to a cavity in the wall. Reinforcing and sealing it he created a small door which met with the rest of the wall seamlessly. Opening it with a push of an internal latch he passed his gear inside. Leaving only his “Thermals” which he wore and his licensed homemade M1911 reverse holstered on his left side. Closing the door and releasing the latch he could relax with his secret hidden.
Putting on his coat he went downstairs and filled out the paperwork with Caesar. “That you done for the night?” Caesar asked. “I’m thinking I’ll take a walk around and try and suss the place out a bit before I turn in for the night.” Martin responded.
Walking down the street Martin found himself wandering as he wondered. Was it good to be home? He wasn’t sure but he sure as hell was here now and not backing down till he’d paid his debt.
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