Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[Ruski]

Okay Boys and Girls, this is PBP run 2.0
so far i only have one PC ready to roll, i'm still waiting for info on the two others.

we'll start this off like the last one: what would your charichters be doing on a thursday night at 2AM? start off by describing your surroundings, your actions, and what you are doing there. (read the other PBP for an example if you need it.)

when everyone has posted, i'll start to put up responces, and we'll get this puppy rolling!

-RuskiFace the Pirate

[Number Six]

Travis Logan, inside his closet sized room, is peering out of the small slit that passes as a window. The large flickering neon signs across the street provide the only light source, considering abandoned buildings usually don't have amenities like electricity... at least not after 10 PM in this particular building. Travis watches the gangers down on the street for a moment, indulging in their typical nightly debauchery.

Looking up, the window catches a faint reflection of the man, eyes that could be anywhere between brown and yellow in the purple light, and a head of dark hair cut in military style, most of which has turned grey prematurely.

Travis turns away from his reflection and rubs his eyes, taking a whole three steps to reach his bed, actually rather comfortable despite being as frail as a cot and only just able to hold his 6" frame within in. He gently lays down on his back, still clad in his street clothes and combat boots, an Ares Predator under his pillow for good measure. He removes something from his inner jacket pocket and holds it in front of him...

It's a worn and tattered picture of a little girl, perhaps just a few years old, three or four. Travis had to wonder what she looked like now... He smiles, but it's a dejected smile. He closes his eyes and thinks of a future that is nothing more than a pipe dream right now. Holding the picture in front of his heart, Travis settles into an uneasy, restless sleep.

You awake in a shock... someone must have shot off a shotgun or something... you almost rember dreaming... no.. it's gone. you do feel a sharp pain in your stomach though..  skipping dinner wasn't a good idea. and with your fridge sporting only a two year old thing of soy-mustard, it's going to be a cold jog for the two blocks to the closest stuffer shack.

[Poison]

Prince swirls the wine around in his glass as he sits and surveys the restaurant around him.  The greenery of the plant life that forms a large part of the decor of the Icarus Descending is a welcome relief from the dirt and grime of the city outside.
Wishing to steal a few more moments of peace before wading through the masses of humanity on his way home, Prince drinks the wine slowly.  A fine vintage.  Almost timeless.  Suitable for one of his royal elven blood.
Setting the now empty glass gently on the crisp white tablecloth, Prince rises from his plush chair and collects his jacket from the cloakroom.
"The service, as usual, was excellent, Harrison.  My compliments."
Doing up the buttons on his jacket, Prince steps out into the Seattle night.

You wander the night enjoying the warmth provided by the delightfull wine. it's a standard night, at 2AM, pretty cold, a little bit of traffic out, mostly worthless and pointless humans, running arround trying to make sense of their short and meaningless lives. you walk for sever blocks, enjoying the crisp air when the need to relieve yourself strikes (one of the disadvantages to drinking you suppose) the closest thing to you is the illuminated interior of a local stuffer shack. and although the disgust of using a public restroom is great, it's secondary to the desire to not soil yourself. you can see the slender form of the night cleark proping her self up on one elbow behind the counter... it may be a trick of the light, but she apears to be sporting some ears on her...

[Retread]

The water was cold, but it wasn't cold enough to stop the Big Surge. The salty ichor of Puget sound, in all of it's quasi-toxic sickness wouldn't stop him. The moon was full and the tide was washing in. The brilliant twinkling lights of ships at harbor flashed across the dwarf's blue eyes. The water at Lynnwood wasn't as fierce as the Surf he had experience with in California, but he had to get the rush he wanted. The sea glittered like gemstones below a tattered blanket of polluted clouds. The silhouette of the full moon on the sky reflected in the neon clouds, drowned still by the corona of luminescence cast by the sprawl's insomnia. Paddling fiercely the Big Surge reachead the peak of a short wave and with a snap of quickness he leapt atop his surf board.

As he descended from the short-lived wave, he called out to the bay, "Spirits of the Sea Between Lakes, I ask of you to show me the righteousness of your truly awesome selves!"

With that, the wave rose and swelled potently, catapulting himself. The wind availed around him as the briny water surged forward.  He shifted himself from side to side, fighting the gusts for balance. He had dealt with harder waters but this water felt unique and different than the same polluted water he'd known on the beaches in the Big Sur. The water rolled for what seemed hours, driving the Big Surge to the beach, where he dismounted gracefully.

He waved, parting with the Ocean, "Thanks for the totally awesome time, dude... uh... dudette... uh... buddy!"

The sea had waved back casually as the tide finally let up, parting in its own friendly way to the strangely kind surfer. The dwarf picked up his board, noting that it now needed a good cleaning and a wax job. He shook his head fiercely, letting the motion wring his Beach-bleach blonde hair dry. Barely, feeling the coarse on the beach underneath his swimming shoes he started walking. He had hailed a cab at the call button down at the corner of the street just atop the boardwalk from the disparaged beach.

Hopping in the cab, the cheap vinyl seats squeaked, rubbing against his wet-suit. The driver a grizzled ork speaking in a thick Russian accent remarked, "How you manage to swim out in that water, an'way?"

To wit, the Dwarf replied, "I don't know, I guess it doesn't bother me, now I need a ride to... uh... Tacoma... Yeah, like that's it?"

"Dah, to Tac'oma it is," the Ork asserted, "Where, in specific?"

"Like, just to the West Lakewood Park, dude."

"What 'daht?"

"Like, what's what?"

"This "dood", you speak of, what eas it?"

"That's you, dude."

"I am not, 'dood' I am Kiryl"

"Whatever, dude, err... Kiryl just like drive."

The cab sped off, into the splendor of the Emerald city. The Big Surge stared at the traffic and the lights and the garish neon as they blew by. The nightlife had come out into full bloom and then wilted as the cab sped through Downtown Seattle. Just then, the dwarf's stomach rumbled...

"Dah! Mi Salty Friend! Was that your stomach... how du you say? trembel? trubmle? to make noise? if you want some food, I will stop at de food place... I is needing some food myself if you be pleased. "
He turns arround to grin at you through the dirty security hole window to the passinger comparment displaying a number of metal teeth.
"I am thinking this will be; uh... how do you say? 'No Charge' for stop. "
He laughs, and turning arround to face the street again he grunts in what can only be a happy tone as he pulls into the parking lot of a stuffer shack.

[Retread]

Let's get this ball rolling!

<Oh, it's rolling.>

[Number Six]

"Son of a...."

Trying to shake that woozy feeling, Travis sits on the bed taking a few deep breaths until he regains his senses. Dammit, he says to himself. You get so wrapped up in your own pity party sometimes you forget to function as a normal human being. Travis stands, making sure his precious photograph is safe before placing both handguns in their holsters. He puts his leather jacket on over his hooded sweater, flipping the hood up over his head. Thinking about virtually any food, so long as it's warm, Travis gives the little room a final paranoia induced once-over before locking the door behind him and heading towards the decaying staircase that leads to ground level.

If you want to get out of this, you've got to get it together man...

You can hear the distant rumble of a motorcycle with open headders in the distance, doubtless one of your neighbors out and about, attempting to discover individual stress tolerances for mailboxes, street signs, and early morning prostitutes. you can see your breath, and you spend a brief moment wondering if this is what it would look like to be a dragon before trying to squint down the street... it may be your imagination, but you think you can almost see the illumination that is the stuffer shack sign... it seems warm, and inviting somehow... although that could just be too many hours without eating talking...

[Poison]

While the thought of using a public restroom is indeed beneath me, it still ranks higher than relieving myself against a wall - on many counts.  So, as there is little other choice, I shall commandeer the facilities that this lowly establishment has to offer.  Onward, past the counter and the employee who stands behind (attempting to ascertain if the woman is indeed of elvish heritage or merely trying pitifully to seem above her station, but without actually drawing any attention to my attempts to do so) and to the filth-encrusted hole that should be thankful to accept my regal fluids.
 

with a contemptious glance at the cleark you discover that she is indeed an elf, although one below your nobil stature. she can't be much over 16 years old, and she has more acne right now than you have had your entire life. it's a terrible thing that having to don the blood of humans for all thease years through the mana recession has done to your race. so many impurities picked up. it's sad realy. she attempts conversation with you as you walk past.
"Good evening sir, welcome to Stuffer-Shack."
Her english needs some work. you doubt her sepetheral is any better.

[Retread]

/OOC

I want to make a mental note the license plate number on the taxi-cab.

Big Surge then walks inside the Stuffer Shack.

/OOC

The door tattles on him with it's canned *Pree-ooh!* as he steps into oppressive fluorescent lights

These lights are totally oppressive. he thinks to himself I wonder what kinda chow they have around here...

THX1138... shouldn't be hard to rember... okay... this stuffer shack is exactly identical to every other stuffer shack you've ever been in. there's an elf guy that looks like he's flirting or something with the under aged gal behind the counter, and after you go to the back of the shack (where they have the totally gnarley energy drinks and cheap microwaveable soy-burittos) a man that looks like he could be homeless wanders in to the store and stands near the counter... looks like he's trying to read the menu... the only other people in the store is an overweight orcish lady and her twin daughters... pretty standard fair for 2AM at a stuffer shack.

[Poison]

(No need to be rude without reason....)
Thank you for your hospitality.  Could you direct me to the facilities?

She blushes slightly as you stop to talk to her, taking a moment to push her hair out of her face before replying.
"Errr... uh... yes... yes sir.. i mean, here is the key "
she reaches under the desk at this point, and brings up a single key that is attached to bronzed bag of soy-o's that must weigh two kilos
"AND... uh... the bathroom is right arround there. "
She points to a point in the back of the store near the stock room.

[Number Six]

/OOC

Assuming the rest of my walk is uneventful, I'll head into the Shack, doing my usual once-over of the room. I'll stand away from the counter for the moment, so the cashier doesn't think I'm in line yet... gotta look at the menu for the cheapest deal...

/OOC

She's currently talking to a nicely dressed elf, so you don't have to worry about that. reading the sign you see that protene free soy tacos (made with the famous soy substitute Soi (TM) ) are on sell, two for two newyen. or, for the super discount bargan ben, they have expired reconstituted soy-frys, on sale for one newyen a pound. it says something about them being cooked in something called 'allegra', but you aren't sure what that means.

[Retread]

/OOC

I casually jander over to the real food section, you know, fruits and vegetables and such, hoping to catch some of the prices on some food that's near expiration.

/OOC

You are in luck! there are some very brown bananas that have just gone on sale at half price! only 30 newyen! (marked down from 60!)

[Poison]

"Much obliged"
I take the key from her and start walking over to the back of the store.  While I'm walking I'll have a casual look at the other people in the store.

/OOC
What is the layout of this place?  How high are the shelves?
/OOC

the shelves are all about 5' tall so the elves and orcs walking arround stick up out of them. there are six rows of shelves, filling up the bulk of the middle of the store. the surrounding walls have frezers and refridgerators built into them, there is a microwave and soy-dog turney thing next to the drink and slushie machine by the counter, there are security mirrors on all the corners, and a stockroom door next to a bathroom door in the far back. near the front door there are also some spindle stands with sunglasses, NERPS, and soy-jerky.

you reach the back of the store where the hard liquor is kept cool in it's refridgerated compartment.

[Retread]

"Boffo!" Big Surge exclaims, apparently exclaiming to no one at all.

/OOC
Is that per pound, kilo, each? What?
Regardless, I grab at least one of them. You do know, that Brown Bananas aren't bad right? Just more mellow than sweet. I then head over to the "dairy" section to pick up a tiny carton of "Scream" that's "Soy-Cream" to dip the bananas in and a package of Sweet n' Fluff Krill Waffle Wafers- Purple Flavor. I scope out what the other patrons are doing to, being discreet, ya know?
/OOC

The price is a pr. busshel price, where a single bushel has about seven bananas on it. you load up on all of your favorite foods, but you notice that they are out of the purple flavor waffle wafers, they only have oarnge, red, and the new plad flavor on sale here.

[Number Six]

Soy tacos... well, as long as I can drown them in hot sauce...

/OOC

I walk up to the counter...

/OOC

"Two for two, please..."

the lady seems distracted, watching after the last customer as he moves to the back of the store.
"... What? oh! Yes, Two lottery cards, coming right up. "

[Ruski]

A dull whine gradually increases in tempo untill it becomes a full blown roar.

Outside the stuffer shack A heavily modified hovercraft with searchlights mounted on all sides is escorted by a small fleat of motorcycles, the combined enginge noise entering the zone normally reserved for rocket liftoff.

the turbines on the back of the hovercraft decrease in pitch to a solwly decreasing whine as what apears to be a small army of orcs dressed all in oarnge aproach the front of the window. guessing by the wide aray of armements they are sporting, you don't think they are here for the bananas that are on sale. most of them have meele weapons, although a handfull have cheap looking shotguns, and one particuarly shiney fella' is dragging a 6' milatary bazooka that looks like it's used normally as a club.

Kicking in the front door he swings his 'club' into a baseball bat stance and shouts into the shack with a cyberneticly enhanced voice.

"We are the CHEMICAL Brothers, and we have come to cleanse this establishment! empty the register into a bag! Everyone remain where you are and we will come get your money in just a little bit!"

you each have one free action to preform before rolling initative. use it wisely.