Active Plots (Alphabetical) - Updated 8/21/2010

Can't I Have Any Time? - (Eruantion Doriath [?], Amonost Doriath [?])

End of Solitude - (Verda Stelo [?])

No More Grape Soda - (Alex Dean [?], Samuel Jorgenson [?], Leon Mecheeto [?])

Questionable Means - (Tawny Black [?], Ishkan Ma'z)

Author	Comment
QuantumTroll Street Fighter/Space Station 11/19/2009 5:33:51 AM Level: 1 Experience: 0 Total Posts: 181	RE: Space Station FREYA [... moving right along, hope you don't mind . I imagine Jara might not go to these places normally, but Piet would convince her to take him.  If that's what happened, Jara can show her discomfort easily enough in your next post. ] The vibrating din of the club music caused a flaky connection a ceiling light in the corridor outside to flicker.   ♫ And I once sold my soul to have To have moments such as this I don't regret anything But the time to pay is coming Before everything is lost, is lost Before I'm lost in the big black hole ♫ With the music pounding their ears, Kapitein Piet and Jara moved over the dance-floor toward the back.  As they passed through a doorway a weak statis field exerted a mild pressure and kept the noise out about as well as a sturdy wooden door.  The backroom was equipped with a bar and comfortable seating, brightly colored lights changing with the beat and rythm of the music.   Besides a few couples, there was group of five men and women wearing soft coveralls occupying a booth.  They were rapidly chattering away as they imbibed Vit-plus, an alcoholic meth-drink fortified with enough nutrients to keep addicts from falling apart.
Jara Green freelance fighter pilot 11/19/2009 11:58:14 PM Level: 1 Experience: 0 Total Posts: 60	RE: Space Station FREYA (sorry moved apartments took a bit to set up) Jara had hesitantly led Mr. Piet to this place, it was loud, annoying and filled with the type of people she didn't like, the mention of meth, a very nasty addiction, made her awkward. "I still don't think this is a place you want to go to pick up anyone at a competent skill level." she said as quietly as she could to Piet over the music. "There is another pilot bar of better repute, and more clear people..." She only came to this place rarely, and it was to pick up her brother when he'd had too much, of one substance or another. She barely frequented the other pilot bar, but the commotion and sheer amount of people here, not to mention the kind of people, loud, dirty, creepy. It made her hand drift to her hidden knife, she had a hard time trusting people to begin with. With her face very much hidden behind her hair, she began to wish she was wearing proper clothes again, this strange feeling of being exposed in her tight spacesuit, which had recurred a few times since the instance on Freya.
Kapitein Piet (Ethical) Space Pirate 11/25/2009 7:09:01 AM Level: 1 Experience: 0 Total Posts: 60	RE: Space Station FREYA "On the contrary, Jara! These are precisely the people we're looking for - risk-takers, fools driven by needless courage, flight-school dropouts. Real pilots are going to be too expensive, they'll demand all kinds of equipment that we don't have, they'll want a contract... We'll need them once we've built an income and a reputation, but for now we'll just need to make do with whatever talent we manage to dredge up here." He paused from scanning across the room to look at her. "I hope you're ready to be squadron commander. Find a couple of prospects based on piloting ability. Use your charms. I'll take care of close-quarters and boarding command, so I'll find a couple of brawlers who can at least minimally control a spacecraft. For now I think we'll have to be satisfied with four recruits that can double-up on the core tasks." With that, Kapitein Piet walked to the bar and ordered a pint of plain pale ale. It came in a faded resin stein of dubious cleanliness. He eyed a couple of drunks who were getting close to achieving a high-score on an arcade machine in the corner. As their blood alcohol and the point count reached ever-higher levels, they got louder and more excitable, until in a great moment of belligerent triumph, they beat the record. As a team. Seemed to be the closest thing to a real achievement anybody in this place had accomplished this week. Piet threw an eye over to Jara, who seemed to be stalking her own prey. He was now six pints deep, and starting to really feel it kick in. I'm out of practice - a scupperin' featherweight! he thought to himself, and floated towards the celebrating pseudo-pilots... [tbc]
Jara Green freelance fighter pilot 11/27/2009 10:34:17 PM Level: 1 Experience: 0 Total Posts: 60	RE: Space Station FREYA (she's only had need to express so many sides of herself as yet, I can show some depth ) She held her own reservations but most everything Piet said was true. Make due with what you can gather, she was used to being hired or being thrown in with her wingmates, so she'd drifted with better and worse, leading them would be a little different, though she'd done it some in the militia, militia was different from this lot. She decided to act on Mr. Piet's advice, him being more experienced in this area. She twitched a little at 'charms.' What charms? She looked around the bar mentally cringing at the sight of many of its occupants until she spotted one lone man at a table. The bar was in an older portion of the colony, the more run down parts, which were a distance from the docks, still practiced the old concept of a 'window.' Dirty thick plexiglass set into the wall and ceiling at an angle through which you could see a little bit of the colony and space, at the edge about a portion of Freya's hull was visible. this man was sitting at the right table for a proper view from the window, and was gazing out through it through sips from his meth laced drink. A sentiment she could understand. She ordered a mildly alcoholic drink with no meth from the bartender, and began to slowly approach the table. Given her light build and frankly lack of practice with alcohol, her hesitation caused her to have drunk a little more than intended before she approached the table.
Kapitein Piet (Ethical) Space Pirate 11/30/2009 12:20:02 PM Level: 1 Experience: 0 Total Posts: 60	RE: Space Station FREYA "What're ye havin', mates?" he said a little too loudly. The two stopped mid-sentence and looked at each other, then back at Kapitein Piet. "We're both drinking RumPlus," said the taller and more toned one. "And who're you?" asked the shorter and stockier fellow. "I'm Kapitein Piet, and I'm looking for a couple of able pilots and soldiers to join me in a new paratactical unit." He turned to the barkeep, who'd seen the approach and knew what was expected, and ordered two RumPlus and another ale. "Now, are you boys interested?" He employed a skeptical tone to draw them in. "Old buddy, we don't need any paratactical whatevers; we just friggin beat Spiral Command. Thanks for the drinks, man, but we do NOT need you." The taller one seemed to have taken the lead. "I'm not your buddy, boy, and nobody needs anybody out here. I'm talking mutually gainful employ, Spiral Commander." "What the Schwartz did you just call me? Do you want to mess with us?" The taller guy flexed his considerable biceps and stepped uncomfortably close. All of a sudden, Piet whips the guy across the face with the butt of his pistol and simultaneously trips him into his stocky friend, causing them both to collapse to the floor. Trying to save face, they scramble to their feet, the taller one holding a bleeding nose. The old pirate turned to the shorter guy, and said, "Alright, I like you guys. What're your names?" "Rogeriguez Heapherson, but folks call me Rog. My drunk friend's name is Rob. What do you want?" "If the both of you can manage to snatch this gun from my hands in 10 seconds, I want to see you both at dock zone 23 at noon tomorrow. Don't worry - it's not loaded." Rob immediately kicked out at Piet's hand with a very long leg. Piet pulled the gun close and leaned into the leg, intending to send Rob sailing into a nearby patron in an attempt to stall any further attacks. Rog took the opportunity to crouch down and dart in close to Piet, following the gun. A quick jab with a powerful right hook to the inside of Piet's knee brought him off-balance, and he followed up with an upwards shove with his shoulder. Piet lifted off the ground and went over Rob, who used the previously mentioned patron as a backboard to make a grab for the gun. His left hand latched on, he gave a twist, and... got a hold of the gun! The whole trapeze act crashed down onto a table, flattening it, a fettuccine mix of arms and legs and stranger's bodies on top. When Rog and Rob looked up from the floor, they were greeted with the brightly evil glow of a beam saber at Rob's throat. "Give me the gun, Rob," Kapitein Piet demanded. Rob sheepishly handed back the gun, dismayed at not getting to pawn it for a trip to the red-light sector. Kapitein Piet subsequently flipped open the cylinder and ejected a full load of bullets, muttering to himself, "Should have planned that better, scupperin' fool!" before tipping his hat at his new acquaintances, the barkeep, and Jara, and then quickly exiting the scene.
Jara Green freelance fighter pilot 12/2/2009 1:38:08 PM Level: 1 Experience: 0 Total Posts: 60	RE: Space Station FREYA (thought you had more than that....) Jara put her drink down and sat at the table, belatedly asking "sis seat open?" she was slightly fuzzy and her thoughts were a little disconnected, somewhere in her mind echoed that wasn't what I planned... The man himself had many thoughts running through his head, he wasn't exactly in the mood, but he glanced her way, and decided never to pass up a good opportunity. Trying to play it right he looked the girl over, noted her out state, and wondered what the cause of her drinking was tonight. His reply however was a slightly wry smile and "not anymore." which was followed by the last sip of his drink. He eyed the cup as if looking for that last droplet before deciding that he had enough for one last drink. Then he'd either starve to death, find a job, or go drift out somewhere and blow up. He ordered his last dink from the bartender, eat drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die. He'd heard that somewhere but it seemed very accurate here. He didn't regret anything, he'd stood to his beliefs bloodied a few noses, and now he'd pay for it, just the consequences of life. The girl leaned in and he took another sip, that intent hard look in her green eyes was amazing, maybe his last night wouldn't be so bad. In the middle of his swig she concentrated to get her words right and asked "how'd you like a job?" Some of that drink ended up in his lungs, that wasn't what he'd expected her to say at all, he wasn't sure if he liked it better or worse. If she was serious this solved his problem, and with astounding timing. The man had coughed as if he was surprised by what she was going to say, what else would she say? A few ideas skittered across her mind but most of them refused to register consciously. The man looked at her more seriously this time, to the point where she became a little self conscious and her thoughts drifted to her knife. The man seemed to have come to a decision, and snapped her back to attention with "very well then, I'll see what you have to offer." He finished his drink while she put down her half drunk cup her third? with a relieved look and wobbled a little up to the bartender to pay her bill. He put the credits down on the table. And walked over to join her. He gave his best 'not what you think' look to the barkeep, and offered a somewhat less wobbly hand to the girl, who steadfastly refused his help and began leading the way. She asked "do you have your own fighter?" That kind of job. He hesitantly replied affirmative and hoped he wouldn't be gone from a meth bar for too long... he'd... gotten attached... The man kept following her, but then she realized she hadn't told him. "Zone 23 ten hundred.... tomorrow." Well slag, he was hoping for a little more than that, but he'd be seeing er again, so may as well take it slow. "I can at least escort you home." (meh I've mentally already built a backstory for him I'll make a profile after work )
QuantumTroll Street Fighter/Space Station 12/5/2009 10:48:03 AM Level: 1 Experience: 0 Total Posts: 181	RE: Space Station FREYA [ Nicely done, fellows!  Character development/exposition is a nice thing in fiction, ain't it? Jara, are you sure you want to create a new character for this guy? You can leave him as NPC if you like. I sorta prefer it that way for simplicity's sake, and it's a headache to remember to change accounts all the time. A backstory is, on the other hand, an excellent idea!! ] Back on board Freya, the AI and the engineer were patching the main power conduit to the shield panel.  Freya thought it odd that Froderick had opted to opt out of the shore leave. She asked, in the same casual tone they used for technical banter, "So anyway, why did you stay behind here instead of taking some time off? After this shield is installed, I won't have any tasks for you until after I've finished refactoring manufacturing."
Froderick Engineer - Space & Cybernetics 12/13/2009 12:04:07 PM Level: 1 Experience: 0 Total Posts: 19	RE: Space Station FREYA Froderick paused for a moment, absentmindedly studying his soldewrench, and then continued weld-fastening the power conduit extension to the shield generator. "The moment I disembark, a dozen guys are going to come running over with a thousand forms for me to sign, spreadsheets to balance, and pointless nit-picking disagreements to arbitrate. I normally wouldn't mind doing it, except it's obvious that things here run well enough without me, and sitting at my desk gives me absolutely no satisfaction at all. It seems strange that it took this bizarre journey to make me realize that the only thing that makes me feel fulfilled is being right here - close to the metal, designing and engineering with my own brain; using my own two hands to get the work done; my companions more interested in seeing correctness and quality than making sure that some stupid checkbox on an inconsequential form is properly filled." Froderick trailed off, absorbed in the work. He had more to say, but didn't feel the need to say it. Contentment was something he had rarely experienced, and this flavor tasted sweeter than what he felt sitting in the pub with Teak. Teak! I wonder what he's been up to... maybe I should go look him up, see if he wants to be a cook or janitor or something for this little outfit. Then again, he's always the one to stay dockside, watching the rest of us test-drive the new trawler, or repel incoming asteroids with the atomics. It's probably best to let things be...

Daireem © 2006-Present Clint Blizzard. All rights reserved.
The Furry Trio Message Board™ copyright © 2001-Present Wolf McDog. All rights reserved.
This site is owned by Clint Blizzard.
This site was created by Clint Blizzard and is not maintained very well by Wolf McDog.