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Post by emyaj on Sept 28, 2006 3:51:46 GMT -5
After listening a bit on the comm Quick decides its time to go pay this piece of drek a visit (not to mention a pang of guilt as it sounds she is in trouble due to his reputation.) "Listen she is at gunpoint on subdeck 2 are you comin to help get her or are you just gonna sit here and eat?"
Not really waitin for an answer from Four-eyes he gets up and heads to the elevator looks back to see if he is alone or if Four-eyes decides to help out the team. (lol no pressure) Then proceeds down to the subdeck hoping he will feel a little better getting his mind off the boat and not seeing the water anymore. At this point he is still listening to his comm hoping he can get an idea what room but at least he will be on the right subdeck and can try to listen as he goes for the conversation he just hopes Angel can keep him talking.
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Post by Pelch Gobwit on Sept 28, 2006 7:05:02 GMT -5
OOC: Pelch, "Like she needs help? She seems to be doing pretty well in dealing with him. After all she's dealing with an unarmed opponent. He's greedy, stupid and not cautious enough. Think it through a moment this bozo, spent a lot of time devising this plan... all of five minutes. Now don't make the same mistake and rush in and get her killed. Or I'll let HER come back to haunt you like I threatened Mao. If I was Quick and trying to get a jump ahead and facing an insidious GM I would be looking for the NEXT hook? For instance, I would be wondering if this guy has a friend who might be messing with your ride in some way? I'm not of course, but I think I would, if I was a player character, consider taking my lead from Angel on this. So far her instincts have been good. Sometimes doing things is more dangerous in some situations than doing nothing. This could be one of those times. "
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Post by Braddoc on Sept 28, 2006 7:16:56 GMT -5
"Held at gunpoint? Poor sorry Blackie don't even know that 'shooting a woman with my gun' is not with a real one. And C'mon she can handle it, I'm sure, th'guy just small time drek..hell he's not EVEN time.." Four-Eyes raised from his plater, seeing that he now talking with himself I would want to see if he'll burst into action like that if I was in trouble..yeah right, more like running in the other direction... He continued eating, pretty sure that Angel's such a big girl now that she doens't need a chaperon. That and he didn't want to eat cold.
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Post by emyaj on Sept 28, 2006 7:24:42 GMT -5
Since Four-eyes wasn't coming Quick decided to go without him after all it still would keep his mind off the boat and be away from any view of the water when he gets to subdeck 2 he will wait by the elevator and listen on the comm. If she is doin ok he was never here if things go bad he had her back and at the least if she needed to run for some reason he had the elevator ready to go. He figures he still needed to try to show he had some team loyalty and since he didn't know what room this was the best he could do without makin a scene that could just cause more problems for everyone.
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Post by Braddoc on Sept 28, 2006 19:25:07 GMT -5
After finishing his meal quite quickly (he was hungry, since you know, he skipped supper and all), Four-eyes was hungry for something else, namely a cigarette. Hmm..now to find a hidden spot to burn one off.. He left the crowdy galley and went to the elevator, but it seems to be stuck, it didn't came up, nothing. Damn frag, what the hell now.. He found the stairs and went down to the parking, all the cars were loaded and the boat was starting to leave..and the Troll was leaning no the gate, smoking a cigarette.
Four-Eyes grinned and walk toward him. The large sailor seems to panic and threw his smoke overboard. "Huh..hello sir, pleasant evening huh?" "Yeah" He took out his pack and lighted one up. "Huh sir, yer' can't smoke on d'ferrey." "C'mon 'braw, ya' were smoking just now, we both know th'cars ain't gonna get it from second hand, yah? He smiled, taking a drag, while the Troll looked at him oddly Hehe, 'must be the first human he met who acts like a tusker. He handed the winch operator a smoke "Here 'ya go chum, my treat since I made 'ya waste yours."
The Troll took it and they smoked in silence for a bit. "So 'braw, my lady-friend ran off with your buddy d'Dark Elf..so what's this guy like, he just like giving tours of the ferrey's belly or just pick-up passengers t'get busy?"
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Angel
Shadowrunner
Branwen
Deny the Impossible
I have made 255 posts
Location:
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Post by Angel on Sept 29, 2006 2:18:37 GMT -5
[OOC: Pelch, Even if the answer seems obvious to you, it may not be readily obvious to the player. I was using the Aura reading to determine his mental state and how to best play on it. I would rather ask and confirm my suspicions than not ask and make incorrect assumptions that lead to major problems.]
In the end, he was the one holding the gun on her. Were Quick and Four Eyes coming? Had they heard her? She hoped so. She takes a look at his hands, noting that they did let up on the trigger a bit. And yet, the gun hadn't fired. Which meant he was bluffing!
Accident, not likely. Even so, she chooses to humor him. Angel uncrosses her legs and then rests her hands on her knees, which are now some distance apart. Had she been wearing a dress, the view would have been different than the one she now offered. But he should be able to get the picture.
Angel answers with only a shake of her head.
"Not when you're doing someone a favor." Angel replies. And Quick is going to owe me major if I get out of this alive. Angel thinks bitterly. "Or if your client's a drekhead."
"You can have ten percent of my cut." It wasn't that much of a loss, really. "Assuming of course we can pull this off. There's no guarantees in this biz. The higher the pay, the bigger the risk." She looks at the gun, again taking stock in how carefully he was holding it, then back at him. "And here I'm offering you ten percent...at no real risk to you. And that's before any 'fringe benefits.' "
"As for how you get your share, that's easy. You've been to the Beaver, and that's where I gotta go to collect on the contract. Meet me there, and I'll make sure you get everything you have coming to you."
"But something else to consider here. Time works against you as much as it does me. You don't make it to your post in time to start loading those cars, then you'll have to answer for it, and the more time you waste with me, the less credible the story gets. If I'm late, well, the guys will leave without me, and neither one of us gets a cut."
"So we got a deal or not, Le-al?" Angel gets up from her seat across from the elf, still keeping her legs apart, but now her hands were raised to just chest level. Tick tick, you're gonna be missed." Angel lifts her head a moment, as if listening. for something.
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Angel
Shadowrunner
Branwen
Deny the Impossible
I have made 255 posts
Location:
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Post by Angel on Oct 2, 2006 21:10:31 GMT -5
[All right, Quick and Four Eyes, I think it's time we moved this to another thread. I'm going to call it Wildcat Lake]
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Post by Pelch Gobwit on Nov 2, 2006 3:34:16 GMT -5
Good Luck on Wildcat Lake.
Now to start something new here.....
JJ is in the Beaver in her private office. She is checking the books for 'skimmers', those dealers who like to take a piece of the pot for themselves. So far it has been pretty normal, no more than 10% loss as usual. She wouldn't have to send Quick around to renegotiate the proper shares. The trid is blasting in the background Suddenly it gets her attention.
Serious Announcer with gray hair and tanned, rugged face, is speaking in serious tones. "$450 MILLION NUCLEAR PLANT STARTED!" blared a red headline in the Tri-City Herald in 1972 as the Washington Public Power Supply System launched construction of its first nuclear reactor." Stated the Announcer gravely giving background information. A faded grainy digital picture showed a who's who of Northwest power brass manning a many-handled shovel. The announcer continued, "The WPPSS nuclear plant would go into operation in 1977, and be followed by two more reactors at Hanford, and two at Satsop west of Olympia. It was the beginning of a disaster that would, for a time, threaten an economic meltdown of the Pacific Northwest. Seattle was smart enough to partly avoid the disaster and, in the process, begin rewriting the more-is-better doctrine that had defined "progress" in the region. The reactor begun that day would eventually cost $3.2 billion. It would not be completed until 1984. By that time, WPPSS would be forced to halt work on four other partially completed nuclear plants. This work was halted by various environmental groups. The city was urged down a different path - efficiency. Economists and the Natural Resources Defense Council, an environmental group, questioned utilities' predictions that power use would keep rising, regardless of its price. "
"Unity Officials labeled this as 'Prophets of Shortage!' To no avail, even as Bonneville Power Administrator Don Hodel delivered dark warnings of future brownouts. He was largely ignored. In a precedent-shattering 1976 decision, however, the Seattle City Council said no to nukes and voted for an energy future based on conservation. In so doing they triggered a $2.25 billion bond default, the biggest in American history. The glowing nuclear future flickered elsewhere. The Bellevue-based Puget Sound Power and Light Co. launched a plan to build twin nuclear plants in the bucolic Skagit Valley, 60 miles north of Seattle."
"The company was halted, first by discovery of an active earthquake fault and later by a resounding 'NO!' by Skagit County voters in a referendum. The project, furiously defended by company Chief Executive Officer John Ellis, was moved to Hanford. The Northwest Power Council finally killed it. "Were we men of vision or were we fools?" H.R. Kosmata, WPPSS' external affairs chief, asked in a 1979 speech. "
"Now more recently Mayor Devlin Krass purchased the Skagit Valley area for future city development. Using City funds and contracted personnel, he had the squatters forcibly evicted and the valley sealed off. Work of a highly secretive nature has been going on in the valley for several years. Now today mayor Krass has announced that he has just completed a Beta Model Nuclear FUSION plant of enormous size and capacity which he says will end the cities power crisis which has been ongoing for several decades now. He also states the city government will make a good profit supplying power to other areas outside the city. Naturally environmentalists are up in arms over the whole matter and have threatened to take matters into their own hands."
"Oh DREK!" JJ stated with some feeling. "He's gone and done it AGAIN!"
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Post by shasta on Nov 2, 2006 20:33:29 GMT -5
Tiny watches the screen avidly, absently polishing a clean pint mug with a dirty rag. The lunch rush at the Rusted Nail that day consisted of a fat guy called Norm, who'd been nursing a pint for half an hour, so he figured he had time to duck out the back and chat to the boss.
Tiny left the bar and headed down the hall to the back room. O'Toole was sitting at the card table, as usual, though he'd foregone the green visor, since there was no company. He was just flicking off the trid as Tiny knocked and ducked the low doorway to enter the room.
"No." O'Toole hadn't even looked at Tiny, let alone waited for him to speak.
"Reckon ther'll be a lot of work goin over this, boss."
"I don' wanna hear it, boy. Gorrammit, you a smart kid for a big dumb trog. Why'n th'hell you wan gitchore ass mixed up in that load of drek for?"
"Comon, boss. You know what I came to Seattle for. Where's the work gonna be for something like this. Sounds a little more upscale than most, doncha think? You used to be big time in the biz, you gotta have an idea..."
"I wuz never no big-timer, boy. I did okay fer meself, got a decent rep, a bit of cred - an I lost a lot of friends. Even some kin. Got out, got me this here bar. Better work, better life. Less folks shootin atcha."
Tiny started to open his mouth, but O'Toole cut him off before he could speak.
"Okay, so, most nights, less folks're shootin atcha. But you're minds made up, eh boy? Yeah, I've seen that glint in the eye before. Spose least I could do is pointcha in a direction might not getchore head blowed clean orf when ye git to askin some questions. You done any work at the old Eager Beaver since it had its lil makeover?" Tiny shook his head mutely. "Well, something this high profile, mor'n'likely you can count on there bein some action there."
"Thanks, boss. Mind if I take off? Its only old Norm in today..."
"Yeah, alright, git" the old ork grumbles. Tiny takes off out the door, almost smacking his head on the lintel.
"Best go home and change, boy. These days, they don't letcha inta the Beaver lookin' like that"
Tiny hits home, grabs a quick shower, and puts on his best threads. He pulls on the longcoat over the top - he may want to make an impression, but going out thru his neighborhood in Redmond without armor would just be asking someone to ruin his best suit - and considers the Ingram. A little bulky, to be sure, but with the stock folded and the laser sight detached, it should be okay.... Nah. Place like the Beaver is now, going in heavy just to ask some questions might be a little over the top. Best to go with what nature gave me...
A short taxi ride later, Tiny was at the front doors. Try to get some work behind the bar here to start with, I should reckon, he thought to himself. Everyone talks to the bartender...
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Post by Pelch Gobwit on Jan 10, 2007 6:38:41 GMT -5
Move on orgs.
Several groups of people have concentrated around one of the the outdoor trids that are posted around the city. The pirate trid station KOMI has hijacked the bandwidth on several of them and is posting it's view of the latest developments on the Seattle scene. Namely, Krass's new reactor in the Skagit Valley area with it's fault line.
Obviously stoned out of his mind announcer with spiked hair and an angry look is screaming at the audience. "The media spin cycle leading up to major anti-nuclear protests has become so predictable that activists have been forced to come up with better media strategies to keep up with the lies and disinformation. The mainstream media starts the cycle several months in advance with articles and coverage about the upcoming summit and accompanying protests. This coverage always includes an obligatory interview with the local authorities who claim that they will be "ready" for the protests."
"With their hired corp PR boys and Lone Star hack interviews, these early articles will include space devoted to the issues on the table, but as the event nears, the coverage focuses more and more on the expected clash between protesters and police. Activists have tried many different ways to change this narrative, to force the media coverage back to the issues and reasons for protest, without much success. Since these summit meetings never allow dissenters inside, people are forced to take to the streets in protest, thus reinforcing the spin that these events are mostly about protesters confronting the police. At some point in the media spin cycle, the media repeat some new police propaganda about anarchists and "outside agitators." The police plant fabulous stories in the media, ranging from alarmist stories about activist scavenger hunts to claims that protesters will throw "urine-filled bottles" at the police."
"When the police claim that activists are using plastic bottles to make Molotov cocktails, the mainstream media dutifully publishes the police disinformation with nary an attempt to investigate the police claims, or point out the fact that Molotov cocktails are made with GLASS bottles. The cycle is the same every time. It's no wonder that more and more activists have given up talking to the media, if they aren't simply hostile to the media and efforts by activists to work with them."
"Sadly, the independent media has reflected this framing of the protests-Indymedia websites are dominated by pictures of conflicts with the police. More troubling is an attack last week by the liberal, so-called "alternative" newsweekly, the Seattle Weekly, on the anti-nuclear movement and its accomplishments since the 1999 anti-nuclear protests in Seattle. In the lead-off article, prominent Seattle activist, Geov Parrish, analyzes the accomplishments and state of the post-Seattle movement. Philip Dawdy looks at the police angle and argues that Lone Star police departments transformed into a more effective force against activists. Knute Berger pens a rather shocking right-wing conflation of the anti-nuclear movement with the fundamentalist terror movement led by Osama bin Laden the IV.. The language of these pieces is hostile towards activists and the anti-nuclear movement, while at the same time pointing out the many successes and achievements of the 1999 Seattle protests and the UCAS anti-nuclear movement."
"The media spin machine in recent years has added a new component to coverage of the anti-nuclear movement-questions about the state of the movement and whether or not the movement is "dead." This shallow and superficial measure of dissent and movement strength relies on old myths that dissent is best judged by how much coverage it gets on the television news. In other words, if the movement isn't rioting, then it is "declining" or "beginning to sputter," to use Geov Parrish's words. In reality, contemporary anti-systemic movements can't be judged solely by the amount of press clippings they get. There is more going on that doesn't lend itself to the sensational gaze of the Trid news cameras especially with tools like KONG and KPOW, Krass's own private PR Army. But there have also been some historic reasons why the North American anti-nuclear movement disappeared from the public eye."
"Well I can tell you that today we at KOMI, the peoples channel and voice have made contact with the VIOLENT underground that intends to..." Shots are heard and a line of bullets stitches the reporter throwing him like a bleeding chunk of meat at the wall. Just before the cameras is shut down several Lone Star FRT members are seen in the background tearing the place apart and shooting anything that is moving.
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Post by Pelch Gobwit on Jan 11, 2007 3:15:20 GMT -5
OOC: Pelch, "For all those messages I have received concerned about my health and absence, I thank you. Just to let you know without answering many of the E-Mails with this slow connection, I have not improved. In point of fact my situation has degraded somewhat in the last month or so. I will continue to attempt to finish the game in room six. It will be a slow process since many times I feel myself incapable of performing my duties there due to my frequent visits to the local house of torture that I have come to describe as God's Waiting Room! My wit has been largely unappreciated by the various so called Doctors and Nurses that have been subjecting me to their pet theories on what is currently my situation. "
IC: A man that looked like almost a thousand other corp suits was strolling South on 4th Avenue toward Union Street. The day was mild and sunny, rare for Seattle in this season and everyone seemed to be out enjoying the day. The man was impeccably dressed in a Welsh and Jeffries custom made Savile Row suit. His hair was light brown and he had an amused look on his face. He quietly entered an area with a large sign that stated, 'Pilchuck Glass Collection'. As he entered the large foyer he looked around taking note. The Pilchuck school was widely recognized as the premier glass blowing school in the UCAS. On display but not for sale, were examples of fine glass art. On one stand was a miniature house done in hand blown glass and with all the furnishings laboriously made the same way. It was fantastically detailed. Security seemed to be light but the man was not fooled. These many items were fantastically expensive and he knew they would be well guarded. He was here for a different reason. A young female attendant spotted the young man and walked over to him and smiled a mega smile. "Welcome Sir, are you interested in a tour of our facility?" The man matched her smile with perfect teeth and stated in a calm voice, "Perhaps. Although I am more like a buyer than a tourist." The young lady replied, "Then you are aware that the Pilchuck Glass School sits on 54 acres of isolated forest in the foothills of the Cascade Mountains. When artist Dale Chihuly held the first summer workshop there in 1971, he never envisioned an ongoing program. During the early years, the school looked more like a commune than a school. It has grown from a makeshift workshop of tents and tree houses to the most comprehensive center in the world for artists working with glass. Some of the famous glass artists who credit Pilchuck Glass School with their success include William Morris, Ginny Ruffner, Flora Mace, Joey Kirkpatrick, Fritz Dreisbach and Dante Marioni. The school is located in Stanwood, which is approximately 50 miles north of downtown Seattle and provides an incredible setting for an art school." The man nodded in a friendly neutral manner. "I am indeed aware of the background of Pilchuck, I am actually here for a meeting." "Oh, excuse me Sir, I didn't realize you were here for the meeting. Follow me, please." The girl led him into a back area were several offices were located. She led him past the offices to a heavily guarded door. The guards seemed to know the man without checking his credentials and let him past. The girl shrugged and left. Inside the man found several people sitting behind a long table. A single chair was set up facing the table. He presumed the chair was for him and sat down and waited. The central person a tall angular woman with sharp features spoke. "You have seen the recent newscasts from KOMI?" The man nodded in agreement but said nothing. The woman agitated continued, "We are all just normal citizens but we have to put a stop to the lunacy of the Mayor and the toadies in his city council. Normal legal steps have met with failure. We have tried some milder illegal steps like bribery, coercion, and leaking some of the facts to stations like KOMI. You saw the results of that, the Mayor has stopped each or our attempts with brutal and total ruthlessness." "I am not surprised at this," retorted the man. "your organization is full of spies and informers. Anything you plan is not going to get past the watchful eye of the Retrosexuals. They are one of the best teams in the business. They have a first rate legal staff and a strangle hold on the politics of this city. They also have a very large corporate presence not to mention their more shady contacts." The woman looked sourly at the man. "So you think we can do nothing?" "I think you can do very little from your present position. However, with outside help you could be effective. The problem is you are too emotional. You must approach this situation with a calm outlook." the man replied nonchalantly. A short, fat balding man looked at some papers for a moment and then spoke, "Would you be willing to put a stop to this insanity?" The man looked back carefully and pretended to consider the offer. "I would consider taking a part if the price was worth my while. Why don't you spell out exactly what you wish done and how much you are willing to pay to see it through. I must warn you though that any plan will be known only by me and I won't be rushed. I will do it in my own time." The woman spoke again, "We want the Nuclear facility in Skagit Valley gone. We want the Mayor and his cronies to get a lesson and a warning that will keep them from doing any similar trick again. We are willing to offer any reasonable fee to accomplish this." The man looked at the group. "Your terms are very generalized. You seem to be condoning that the Mayor be removed either with or without prejudice or that a really bad accident occur at the facility which will cause it to be closed. In either case the price will be extreme" "We realize that," the fat man spoke again, "we have not limited your possibilities in this. If the Mayor was to die? Well new politicians are a dime a dozen. If the reactor has an accident, yes people will die but it will mobilize the general population to our view." The man nodded. "The price will be 2.5 billion dollars. The task will be attempted by competent parties with a proven record of accomplishment and they will have a three tiered multi-layer backup. There will be no guarantees for success of the mission." The woman looked surprised and then angry, "No GUARANTEES? You want us to pay 2.5 billion UCAS dollars on a possibility? You're insane!" "I meant the dollars to be Corporate Bank Script, not UCAS dollars." The man stated calmly. The woman looked shocked. "That's 5.8 billion UCAS dollars." She stated stunned. The man smiled, "Correct. I want half up front to this account in the Corporate Bank. When my broker tells me it has arrived I'll start." The fat man nodded, ""Very well. We knew this would not be cheap." He took the account number. The man nodded and left whistling a low tune. If things worked out well this could be his last contract.
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Post by Mr. Johnson on Jan 11, 2007 14:37:05 GMT -5
its good to see you back here my ole friend... sorry to hear about your health and i will keep you and yours in my prayers... awesome to see you back though.. you were missed dearly... how are the rest of the retros? I hope life has been good to them as well and look forward to seeing them again... until then I will bid you farewell and talk to you soon
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Post by Pelch Gobwit on Feb 19, 2007 1:41:38 GMT -5
OOC: Pelch, "Word is that the Retro's have gone underground for reasons of their own. They are still gaming of course but are not as noticable. As for me, the prognosis is not good but I survive. You ought to see my hospital bills. On second thought maybe not, they might be contagious."
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Post by Mr. Johnson on Feb 19, 2007 22:15:56 GMT -5
sorry to hear the retros have dissapeared... it was a blast hangin with them and they did alot to help kick off this site... they will be missed.. but never forgotten
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Post by gremlin on Mar 5, 2007 11:56:24 GMT -5
Henri entered the 'beaver with more than a little trepidation. By his reckoning, he'd allowed enough time that he wasn't going to catch any heat from the debacle of his last job. Not to mention bring any down on the people he worked with. Besides, the bug shaman had been taken out (hadn't he?), even if it was by parties unknown. There was also no noise, publicly or otherwise, about an attempt on the mayor so there was a chance his name might not be drek in these parts. Bottom line was he needed to earn cred. His landlord had re-rented his apartment while Henri was laying low and finding a new, secure place hadn't been easy.
Henri made it to the bar without spotting any bouncers on an intercept course. Now all that remained was to see if he got served or turfed out, once the security devices he'd undoubtedly passed had identified him.
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