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#9112651 Feb 16, 2014 at 07:48 PM · Edited over 2 years ago
62 Posts
Deoraí listens carefully to every word the man before him speaks, looking for any loop hole that could be used for or against him, arching a brow when the hears he foreign tongue. After the terms had been set Deoraí nods.

"Deal. We need to get a move on if we want any of the pickings." he watches a group pass by and jerks a thumb over his shoulder."Ready to go?" He turns halfway but knows not to move another inch without the man with the DKS-501's say so.
Rule No. 9- "When forced to compromise, ask for more."

Rule No. 10- "If you can't win, change the rules"

Rule No. 11- "If you can't change the rules, ignore them"
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#9136991 Feb 21, 2014 at 05:08 PM · Edited 3 months ago
520 Posts
((Please be aware that as of this reply there will be a new posting order. It is as follows...

  1. Zodai / Vara-Sarg-Raj-Jett
  2. Atlanta Psomas / Cirs/Iyo/Xyrna/Merr
  3. Viktor Markus / Nagashi/Raythil
  4. Deoraí Dath / Rei'ahll/Sevrickk/Adri'el
  5. Ronan Cavanaugh / Vilinde Driiquar
  6. Abel / Qun/Gare/Sal
As stated in the placeholder message that came before, the reason for this change is so that both the players and myself will have an easier time following the narrative. That being said, you can expect another such change in the future if I feel it's necessary to keep things in order. Thank you for your understanding. Now pick up that can, citizen!))

- - - - -

Zodai & Atlanta
For both of you and Ben this part of the journey would arguably be the most arduous. Why? Because of the ice, of course. Even with the wedge plow that you welded onto the front of the bow serving as an icebreaker, at only four feet a minute you can tell that there's going to be a supreme amount of patience exercised before the night's over...

Viktor & Deoraí
((Despite how much material you've provided, I am going to abstain from directing you two this time. You two seem quite capable of working off of each other's narratives right now, and so that's what's going to happen until somethin' important crops up that's needed to either advance the plot or your guys' scene(s).))

Ronan
The sentinel had been about to speak when you turned your back on her to address the merchant. S'fine though. You're fully confident that you'll be able to woo her completely (if not all over again) once you were done talking business. Both Isaac and his mechanical companion survey you for a few moments, sizing you up; probably trying to remember when they last saw you or if they've ever even seen you before. The silence stretches on as both in perfect unison look upward toward the rope bridges that crisscross between the trees, feeding your kin to other parts of the Dun like veins pumping blood through an artery. "It all depends," says Isaac in the voice of Volus Ambassador Korlack from Mass Effect 3 (complete with rebreather sound effect). "Specificity will help me greatly to understand -- tsssk -- your needs, clansman. The way you talk makes me think that you will be traveling far, but in what -- tssssk -- direction? Do you hail from here? -- tssssk -- Will you be traveling to another Dun, or elsewhere? -- tssssk -- I have many wares, Mister Ronan, but I cannot help you if you do not -- tssssk -- make your intentions and goals clear to me."

Abel
Sir Thurston Backus III is quiet as he takes your guns with him back to the front desk. When he's finished locking them up he turns around and presents you with a disconcerting frown. "I know of the group you speak of, my boy. In fact I showed them out that very door no more than two hours ago. I wouldn't try going after them though, if I were you! Especially in that horrid weather! I dare say that you'd freeze right down to the marrow if you attempted to catch up to them in the condition that you're in now."

You are lead into the nearby dining room very much like this one, which is quite literally packed with weary people of all sorts. As you're ushered through you realize that the place has been wired with a rudimentary PA system, which is currently belting out this merry tune. Your destination lies at the far end of the room, at a cafeteria table that has seen better decades. With a single look that says "make a hole or else," Sir Backus manages to convince two very large and rather unscrupulous looking men to scootch aside in order make for you on their bench. "Olaf? Olaf, my good man!" Your host gestures wildly to a figure behind the counter separating the kitchen from the rest of the room. You can't quite make out his figure through the steam that his cooking his generating, but from the way it moves you're able to discern that he's hanging on Sir Backus' every word.

"We have another guest! Would you kindly provide him with some of your delectable cuisine whilst I tidy up his lodgings? That's a good fellow!" As the Brit makes his leave, you're finally able to catch a glimpse of the Knickerbocker's resident chef as he fans the steam away in order to get a better look at his latest customer. (Rather than describe this man to you, I will let this image here do the talking for me!) Olaf takes one look at you and, after pausing to size you up, screams the word "FEWD!" emphatically as the mean-looking cleaver that he wields decapitates a large, wide-eyed fish of some variety.
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#9139781 Feb 22, 2014 at 11:20 AM · Edited over 4 years ago
125 Posts
Background Music
(to be played softly)

Zodai works the throttle expertly, letting the boat do the work, thus conserving gas as best as possible. Creaking, scraping, each brush of ice sounding like its puncturing a hole into the hull, and slow going, but even at the slow pace its the fastest out of the area. Until at least they get out to the coast proper. "Keep your eyes peeled, I have seen bandits try to run on the ice to attack the boat. Also, I have seen them try to jump from the bridges as well..", stealing a glance at them both. He will go quiet as he continues to work through the ice, watching the horizon not only for hazards, but anybody looking hostile. He will answer any questions directed towards him, but other than that he will be concentrating on not making his boat the R.M.S Titanic.
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#9173331 Feb 28, 2014 at 08:33 PM
215 Posts
((Sorry for the late post, I feel crappy about that. Been super duper busy, but that's no excuse. I'm grateful that I wasn't skipped. [Though personally I think I deserve it.]))

"Ugh," drones Atlanta. "...Uuuuuugh!"

If there were someone that complained more than this red-haired Greek, then Zodai may have tossed them into the water. Atlanta would drone on and on about how boring the trip was, how cold it is, and how much Ben needs to stop staring at her, all the while laid back across her chair.

"No. No. Why can't we just be climbing our way through the Wastes? I don't care if it's dangerous! I would much rather die with a bullet to the brain than die of utter boredom! UGH!"

She rolls her head to catch Ben grinning at her. "What?"

"You're just funny," Ben responds plainly.

"You're just funny," Atlanta repeats. "Smooth." She chuckled and made an attempt to sleep through this arduous trip.
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#9173638 Feb 28, 2014 at 11:07 PM · Edited 2 years ago
119 Posts
Viktor crossed his arms nodding at the man in front of him, no expression visible on his feline features as he pulled a tracking system from his longcoat. Tapping the device a few times he grunted, growling in a low tone. Putting the device back into his coat he spoke in Russian habitually, the harsh language flowing off his tongue.

"Paladin i yeye rytsari ostavili, oni imeyut mnogo oruzhiya i postavki iz nikh. YA ikh otslezhivat', my mozhem libo prinyat' ikh v nastoyashcheye vremya i prinyat' ikh postavok ili byt' uvereny, chtoby izbezhat' ikh. YA sklonyayus' k ubiystvu sebe."

Cursing violently in Russian upon realizing his folly he clutched his shoulder as it throbbed painfully, pulling a medium sized bright orange bottle form his coat pocket he shakily opened the cap and tapped several pills into his hand before dry swallowing them. Sighing in relief as the medication took effect he spoke in his heavily accented English.

"The Paladin and her Knights left, they have many weapons and supplies among them. I have them tracked, we can either take them out now and take their supplies or be sure to avoid them. I lean towards assassination myself."

Eyeing the man critically taking note of any weapons on his person he took note of a sawed off shotgun but saw no other weapons save for what may have been a boot knife. Making a disgruntled sound that sounded something like an annoyed bear growling he spoke again in English as he ran a mental triple check of his weapons and supplies.

"You need more weapons and supplies, your mouth will not last long against raiders and their ilk. The Paladin and her Knights will be easy prey for me, either form several hundred feet away or a knife in their sleep. I'll let you choose, not my problem if you die."
"All weapons are important to an Echani. A hand built weapon is part of the Echani. I built her by hand, crafting the hilt over weeks of trial and error. She is very much a part of me, like a child, or a spouse. With out the weapon, you cannot defend your life, if you cannot defend your life you have no life. So we treat our weapons with respect. We honor them, as they honor us by being our defenders, our tools, an extension of ourselves. A weapon is an extension of ones soul."
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#9182002 Mar 02, 2014 at 03:52 PM · Edited over 2 years ago
62 Posts
Deoraí frowns at the sight, making the conclusion of either injury or addiction or both.

"You okay?" The concern was actually genuine.
he mulls over the words to follow for a few moments before sighing.

"Listen, I know people like you. Shoot first, it won't work now. The helping hand are the fucking messiahs of this place. No way we can get away with it. Besides, I'm personally not one for cold blooded murder. Get gear any other way, just don't fuck with the Helping Hand." He nods then extends his hand out to the man, "Deoraí." He says with a small nod, "Seriously though, bad idea."
Rule No. 9- "When forced to compromise, ask for more."

Rule No. 10- "If you can't win, change the rules"

Rule No. 11- "If you can't change the rules, ignore them"
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#9183294 Mar 02, 2014 at 10:18 PM · Edited over 2 years ago
120 Posts
Ronan turns his head to give Merida an apologetic look, "Sorry, give me a minute, I don't want to miss my chance to get my supplies from Issac ere', y'know how hard i' is to track him down, an' with the Goddess smilin' on me and letting me wandering upon him?" Smiling sheepishly, he raises his hand up to his head winces a bit for effect. "Promise ye, yae'll have all of my attention when business is conclu'd, aye?" With another sheepish smile to the female sentinel, he turns his attention back to Issac and he robot, and addresses him with a less-overeager voice.

"News must be behind my back... I was traveling in the forest, no' sure where, and I was settling down for a rest high in the boughs of one of the tallest trees I could find. I like to climb, y'ken? Well with the Cold Moon settlin' over the landscape, my eyes were closin', and I was dozing off...", while he describes what he saw Ronan's voice and face turn completely serious for the first time in the conversation, the tone of a spiritual man speaking of what he believes to be a sign from the deities he follows. He is obviously convinced in his belief of the night, and he speaks of the flares sent up by the other scouts lucky enough to have seen it fall, which has let him know it wasn't a drowsy, sleep-deprived vision of one waking up from the vulnerable time between consciousness and sleep. Taking far more time describing the ship and it's majesty than was required, Ronan finished his tale within a few minutes, and he looks between Issac and Merida, and the small crowd that had gathered to listen to the unbelievable news.

Finally he looks back to Issac, ""You think me strange?" he says with an orange eyebrow arched.

"Yes."

Ronan grins widely at the one worded reply, "Good strange, or bad strange?" Taking the time to address the crowd, Ronan turns and starts to wave them away, "Git! I only tell you wha' I saw because news will arrive sooner or later, ae've business with Issac and his pretty friend here tha' I don't want you all gettin' in on!" And with that, he returns to his business, trusting in Issac's reputation and his droid to keep the watches back.

"There you have it. I'm heading south and west to find where it landed an' tae see what bounty the Goddess has deigned to us. I need a map of the lands towards the Melting Pot, I haven't left the Clans forests for any real length of time and dinnae know the way. I need to travel light and quick, ae've already asked to use the walkways for as long as they run, an' ae'll hunt what I can iff'n I need to.", he pauses and looks to Merida, "Again I apologize, but I hope you can understand my priorities... Wouldn't normally be such an amadon an' put you oof'..."

"Now, as ae've given my word to attend to her for however long she's fer wantin', i'm being somewhat quick an' trustin' the reputation you've garnered throughout the Clan. Not many coimhthíoch even know where Dun Bogha is, y'ken? Besides a map an' news of the goings on down there, i'm fer wondering if you know of any trustworthy folk down there tha' I could find to help me transport wha'ever I may find iff'n I cannae carry it alone. A wasted trip tha' would be iff'n I couldn't bring Cernunnos's droppings with me, eh?"
"Téigh trasna ort féin"
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#9183395 Mar 02, 2014 at 11:03 PM · Edited over 4 years ago
334 Posts
Abel could only chuckle weakly. His gaze quickly shifted off of the possibly mentally-snapped scandinavian man who either chose to or did not know how to put on a shirt. Softly apologizing to the two larger men, the smaller and slimmer young man slides onto the bench, resting his arms along the top, keeping them close as to not disturb the feasting the other blokes around him so duly enjoyed. He couldn't help but watch as Backus left the massive cafeteria, and left the new guest behind in a mass of loud flesh.

"So..." Abel began, tilting his head to the left at one of the larger men. Noticing a complete disregard for his comment, the auburn male muttered another apology and rested his head on his arms. A great sense of foreboding was starting to arise in his chest, and the feeling of being watched. He didn't bother looking up. No doubt the scandinavian was looking at him still with those wide eyes, decapitating another poor fish. He did not want to have a heart attack.

"Oh lord...what have I gotten myself into?" His hand drew itself to his cross necklace, thumb rubbing over the metal to comfort himself. The lulling song over the PA was clicking in his skull, recalling how his mother would hum it to him at bed time. Sooner than he could realize, his lids were slowly sagging, the urge to sleep strong in him.
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#9193864 Mar 05, 2014 at 03:56 AM · Edited 3 months ago
520 Posts
((While I direct this OOC note primarily to Zodai and Atlanta's players, all of you really ought to be made aware that the old George Washington Bridge collapsed during the the opening hours of the Great War. This happened when a southbound Oceanic Airlines flight broke apart in mid-air above New York City as a result of it being bombarded with multiple electromagnetic pulses simultaneously and consecutively. While the plane's flight path ensured that most of the debris splashed down harmlessly into the Hudson River, there was one chunk of the fuselage that struck the bridge right at the half-way point. The impact set off a chain reaction that touched off the microfusion cells inside a Highwayman that just so happened to be crossing that section of the bridge at that very moment. The result is exactly what you'd imagine it to've been.))

- - - - -

Zodai & Atlanta
Zodai. With Atlanta and Ben's help you were finally able to clear a path through the ice around the time you were within a football field's length of Battery Park. The churning currents crashing against the sandy shore, now covered with a fresh layer of powder, make it possible for you to navigate your boat into the Hudson River and really start to make progress. But as you near Park Pier 40 you remember something about the remains of the old George Washington Bridge. Because of their double-decker nature, each of the bridge's remaining "stubs" have been converted into communities for an unusual alliance of like-minded bandits and Super Mutants that call themselves the Bridge Trolls.

Usually they're not much of a threat during the winter, but the distinct auras that you see in the distance, even through the grey haze that always accompanies snowfall, can only be generated by camp fires and lights powered by portable generators flickering. Ben must have seen them as well, because he suddenly asks: "You say you've seen them try to jump from the bridge?" This may have been a bit of an inadvertent exaggeration on your part. While it's true that some of the more brazen members of the group -- namely the Super Mutants -- were known to sometimes launch themselves into the air in hopes of landing on the decks of ships within range, most of the time these bandits will make sure to secure themselves with bungee cords before attempting to ambush any unsuspecting passersby.

Still, Ben's question does raise some concerns. It may be best to attempt to maneuver your boat into the proverbial "Goldilocks Zone" that exists between in the open water between the Trolls' two compounds. Here, especially now with the weather system reestablishing itself, it would be exceptionally difficult bordering on the impossible for them to hit you with small arms fire. Alternatively though you could cut the main engine, switch to the troller and attempt to ninja your way past the bandits by navigating your boat through the gap between the eastern stub and the shore. So how do you wish to proceed? The former option may require you to use more fuel, whereas the latter should allow you to conserve it.

Viktor & Deoraí
((It's still your show, boys. Just keep the Private Messages we exchanged in mind.))

Ronan
Isaac stares at you again for the longest time before addressing you with a flat "I see." And that was it. At least you think that's it. You've just begun returning your attention to the sentinel to your right when the merchant's rebreather hisses loudly. When you turn around you find him holding the tiniest PIP-Pad that you have ever seen. (Or maybe it's the only PIP-Pad that you've ever seen.) "A map," Isaac rasps. "Coupled with the latest edition of -- tssssk -- the Wasteland Survival Guide." A pause. "News -- tssssk -- will need to be sought elsewhere. Transport... I suggest visiting the stables at the glade." Another pause as the merchant's rebreather kicks in. "That way." Issac says, pointing across his own chest to his right, west. "I would advise you pick up enough supplies to feed you -- tssssk -- and your mount, clansman. That is if -- tssssk -- you can afford one. The price of my services alone will cost you -- tssssk -- 91 caps. I will be traveling south as soon as the snow melts -- tssssk -- you see. And the people of the Melting Pot are not so -- tssssk -- flexible when it comes to accepting 'foreign' currency." At this, those who had neglected to clear off at your insistence, as well as Merida, shift uncomfortably. "Do we have an accord? Or would you prefer to attempt to -- tssssk -- barter? Like any good merchant I am -- tssssk -- always open to negotiation."

Abel
You awake with a start sometime later. A precursory glance tells you that you've not only slept through lunchtime but dinner as well. A dark, winter's night has fallen outside, forcing the staff of the Knickerbocker to rely on a series of old fashion gas lamps to light the interior of the dining room that you were in. Should you attempt to sit up or do anything that involves the usage of the muscles in your arms and/or shoulders, you'll come to realize that you've had a blanket draped over you. You also quickly come to realize that the music on the PA system has changed from Larry Clinton Orch's tribute to The Nutcracker's third movement to Bobby Darin's "Beyond the Sea."

"So you're not a corpse."

The owner of the voice (which can be heard narrating this trailer) is sitting on a stool in an area of the room that you hadn't been able to lay eyes on before due to the crowd. It's a bar, much like this one, complete with a robotic bartender that's off to one side, performing several different tasks at once. It goes without saying that the person you've now locked eyes with is in the process of exuding a what is best described as supernaturally inscrutable aura. The effect is only enhanced by the dense cloud of smoke that his cigarette seems to perpetually generate.
"Barkeep," the man says.
"Yes sir?" The little robot, still somehow managing to restock a jar of pickled eggs whilst cleaning a dirty glass with an equally dirty rag and reorganize a shelf full of opaque brown bottles, rotates its body just enough so that it's looking at the mysterious stranger(!) with its three eyes.
"I'll have another. Oh, and pour one for the kid over there as well."
The robot complies. But when it comes time for the man in the stylish coat and fedora to pay, his hands turn out empty pockets. He sighs and then says without looking back at you: "Hey, kid, do you mind? I seem to be a little short."
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#9197079 Mar 05, 2014 at 05:57 PM
125 Posts
Que Background Music

Zodai already have seen the upcoming settlement has been thinking of what they are going to do. Hearing Ben's question he decides not to engage in reiteration, but says "Atlanta there is a switch in the engine compartment that turns on the electric motor", he says as he turns off the main motor, then disappears below quickly emerging with a folded white canvas handing it to Ben. "Quickly start at the prow, and spread that out over the boat, Atlanta help him when your finished, please", Zodai cuts all the lights off, and the heater. "No unnecessary talking from now on.. If this charade does not work you may get your excitement you have been yearning for, but if we can slip past unnoticed, then its less we have to do when we get to Albany... Use the poles to keep the boat off the ice for now no sudden movements with them, and ready your weapons, do not shoot unless we are fired upon". He readies his quiver, and bow slung around his chest and back, still steering the boat through the ice flow using a small hole he had precut onto the canvas a long time ago, showing that this was not first time at this attempt of stealth.
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#9202781 Mar 06, 2014 at 10:26 PM
215 Posts
"Got it," Atlanta said simply. She'd go and cut the motor, returning to assist Benji with the canvas, and finally joining Zodai where he was steering the boat.

She had had to pass by bandit camps before. Granted, never a super-mutant-bandit-free-for-all-bridge-party bandit camp. Semantics.

Atlanta loaded a bolt into her crossbow, checked the magazine of her pistol, and sat ready, crossbow in her hands. There ain't no way we're getting through there without a fight, she thought to herself. Ain't no way we're getting through without bruises. She gripped her crossbow tighter. Muscles tense. Eyes focused.

I'm ready.
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#9206925 Mar 07, 2014 at 07:37 PM · Edited over 2 years ago
119 Posts
Viktor rolled his eyes, his mind racing as he thought of the Paladin and her Knights and their possible loadout he would be missing out on if he let them live. Flashing back to his memories of Faelin, the one man he truly feared he shook his head, thinking to himself.

"They will likely have backup, and in this city it is not likely they will be alone or that they will be easy to take down through their power armor. Troublesome, they will wait, but we need weapons, thank the gods Vassily provided me with supplies before I left."

He knelt on the ground opening his suitcase, showing a massive arsenal of gunpowder, razor wire ball bearings and other nasty surprises. With a practiced motion he began assembling several grenades, some filled with small bearings, some filled with flash powder and a final one filled with several glass containers. Looking at Deorai he nodded sliding the grenades towards him.

"These will ruin someones day, somewhere, somehow. Pull the pin and you have five seconds before you start ruining people's days. You have three anti personal grenades, two flash bangs and one very very nasty thing. A corrosive grenade, capable of eating through metal and flesh with equal voracity. Use that one as a last resort, it's expensive."

Closing the suitcase with a loud snap he readjusted his DKS-501 double checking a satchel of grenades in his own pocket. Looking at the man he nods speaking in his heavily accented English.

"The Paladin and her Knights will live for now, we have wasted enough time arguing on semantics. We leave now and hide among the herds of filth that are traveling the same direction we are. With luck we will make it within the week. You have some weapons and I am a walking armory, any attackers will be either foolish or suicidal. Any questions we move on?"
"All weapons are important to an Echani. A hand built weapon is part of the Echani. I built her by hand, crafting the hilt over weeks of trial and error. She is very much a part of me, like a child, or a spouse. With out the weapon, you cannot defend your life, if you cannot defend your life you have no life. So we treat our weapons with respect. We honor them, as they honor us by being our defenders, our tools, an extension of ourselves. A weapon is an extension of ones soul."
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#9218739 Mar 10, 2014 at 04:06 PM · Edited over 2 years ago
62 Posts
Deoraí takes the grenades with a curt not. The hand not managing the makeshift devices tugs on his hood, trying to keep the howling wind from lashing at his face. "Save bad days for bad times, got it. Anything else?" He asks, a brow arched as he tucks the explosives away, one flashbang in his coat, the other bang and corrosive in his bag. Deoraí's eyes shift, critically examining the various people passing them by.
Rule No. 9- "When forced to compromise, ask for more."

Rule No. 10- "If you can't win, change the rules"

Rule No. 11- "If you can't change the rules, ignore them"
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#9218990 Mar 10, 2014 at 05:01 PM
120 Posts
Like the other Clansmen and women around him, Ronan winces when Issac brings up the coinage used by the Clan, and known by few outside it, yet this is coupled by a stifled chuckle and arches an eyebrow at the merchant, "91 caps?", he turns to look at Merida and grins widely, "If this is not proof of the Goddesses will, I know not what else can be!" With a somewhat disbelieving grin, Ronan pulls a small pouch off of his belt, and empties its contents onto the table, "91 caps exactly, Issac, and a good thing too, not sure I have anything to barter with that wouldn't let me keep my leg or hand."

The large man lets out an inner sigh, he hadn't expected to lose the years worth of effort of his gathered caps so quickly, but then again, he didn't expect to find and outsider merchant before leaving the Clan's land, and he still has enough of the Clan currency to get transportation at the next outpost once the tree walkways run out... Maybe he can run it a bit close and buy the sentry Merida a dinner to make up for being an ass... With a sigh he shakes his head, knowing he needs to focus on the deal.

"Consider following me west, Issac? By then the rumors will have spread far and wide, you'll have no trouble getting there... You can still find buyers with a more roundabout route to the Melting Pot, and if I find anything, Cernunnos willing, I may not be able to haul it all back on my own, y'ken?" , Ronan hopes that the idea has actual merit, for it might make his return easier... But for now, he has to wait for the merchant to count the caps as he knows he most likely will, for Outsiders do not seem to value honor as the Clan does...

He gives Merida one more apologetic look before he leans forward to look into Issac's visor, hoping he did not break any of the outsiders strange rules of trade as he waits...
"Téigh trasna ort féin"
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#9247089 Mar 16, 2014 at 06:50 PM
334 Posts
Abel groggily pushes himself up, resting his head on an open palm as the other rubs his eyes. It was definitely one of the more comfortable places he had slept..even if it was just a table. The music made it feel like he was never in the middle of a post-apocalyptic world, but in a world that his parents had grown up in, adjusted to and longed for. A feeling of odd nostalgia washed over him and he breathed out a content sigh, tugging the blanket around him as if to keep the feeling a little bit longer.

He blinks, craning his neck back to see the speaker. He recoils a bit, taken off balance by the rather classy-dressed man at the counter. Coughing into a fist, he nods and speaks up rather tentatively. "Ye-yes. I'm not a corpse. I wouldn't have spent my last credits on a room I wouldn't have the chance to use..."

Pushing the blanket off of him, and making a mental note to thank whoever had done so, he folds it up out of respect and slowly approaches the counter. Doing so, he scans the contents of his wallet before laying some out. "A drink of this man's choosing."

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#9329630 Apr 02, 2014 at 08:57 PM · Edited 3 months ago
520 Posts
Zodai & Atlanta
It's a good thing that adrenaline accelerates your body's metabolism, because without the heater you three would already be feeling the effects of the cold otherwise. Light both natural and artificial casts shadows of all sorts across the water; an effect made all the more eerie by the white fog that had chosen to accompany the snowfall. Every yard brings the two of you and Ben closer to what seems like certain death. But then you're under and out of sight, and you're all able to take a couple of moments to breathe regularly again. The acoustics of your surroundings make it easy for you three to pick out at least two dozen distinct voices, as well as the sounds made by animals of some sort. Zodai, you would know better than your companions that the Trolls incorporated beasts of all kinds for a myriad of purposes; all of which weren't ones you liked to think about.

There comes a few tense moments after the boat had emerged from under cover that several of the animals begin reacting violently, but a shout from one of their handlers dissipates the panic. Apparently the beasties had just decided that that particular moment was as good a time as any to fight over a leftover scrap of food.

It takes five minutes for the lights of the bandit camp to become nothing more than a vivid memory. Still, it is advised that you keep your current pace up for another ten. The water and weather being what it is, you never can tell just what sounds may carry back to Trolls...

Viktor & Deoraí
((This is it, guys. Time to get yourselves to Central Park!))

Ronan
Once again there's that long, almost uncomfortable silence as Isaac's mind attempts to gleam all of the angles. Finally, he nods. "Very well then, clansman. You and I -- tsssk! -- have an accord. I will use my new-found wealth to -- tsssk! -- secure us two whatever essentials are required. Is there a particular time and place that you would like us to -- tsssk! -- rendezvous at?"

((I apologize for having this be such a short post, Vili. But it's the only version of what I came up with that I felt truly comfortable with. To make it up to you, I'll give you free reign over this post and your next one. So whatever you want to have Ronan do, go for it. Just, uh, be sure to run it by me first? Please?))

Abel
"I owe you one," says your new friend once he's got a fresh shot glass full of liquid amber in hand and ready to toss back. "So what's your story, kid? If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were lookin' for somethin'." As if preparing you for the emotional journey ahead of you, the invisible jukebox swaps out Bobby Darin's cover of "Beyond the Sea" for "The Fragrance of Dark Coffee."
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#9350480 Apr 07, 2014 at 03:28 PM · Edited over 2 years ago
125 Posts
Que Ambients

After seeing the lights of the bridge fade in the distance, the eerie quiet ambience, with the occasional churn of water, Zodai silently lets out the breath he was holding. then pulling his wolfskin overcoat tighter around him now feeling the chill for the first time since the heater was switched off. "Lets pull back the canvas to just past the cab, just in case we have to do this again... also it will keep the heat better, but we have to stand the weather for a few more minutes just to be sure, before turning the engines back on... also mine the ice out there still.. ." he would whisper back to Atlanta and Ben. then he would realize he is still clutching his bow string, shaking his head he would curse himself for letting his nerves get worked up like that, although he knows why, stalking stealth is his specialty, not sneaking stealth to slip away, not knowing if the enemy is coming or not. Relaxing slightly he would put both hands on the steering wheel and concentrate on getting through the drift, pushing all other thoughts out for the moment, like hating being a sitting duck like that, also how those damned bandits treat the wildlife, like their own fucking stooges... 'They're beings, dammit, not fucking fodder. You cowardly assholes.. okay, that's enough... I need to drive...' he thinks.
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#9356157 Apr 08, 2014 at 08:10 PM
215 Posts
"False alarm, crew!" Atlanta says, rather audibly (and probably to Zodai's annoyance. "Back to your stations!"

She slings her crossbow across her back. "Gee, it would've really, really sucked if I got some damn action on this boat." She does her chores around the boat and lets time pass by. Once they are definitely out of earshot of the Trolls, she'd yell, "Isn't there something I can shoot?! Or climb? Anything?" Finally, she lies down on the floor of the boat. "Ugh. Whatever."
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#9358822 Apr 09, 2014 at 11:19 AM · Edited over 2 years ago
119 Posts
Viktor slowly motions to Deorai to follow him, palming a few more pills from the neon orange bottle,obviously taken from the remains of a pharmacy. Tucking the bottle away for saafekeeping he tightens his black overcoat around his muscular frame before making continual minute adjustments to the position of his DKS-501, slung across his back. Trudging through the deep snow he swore violently in Russian, cursing this weather as well as humanity in general, just to be sure he covered all the bases. Walking at a decent pace, nothing like a run, but quick enough to bypass several others heading towards Central Park. Making decent time they began the four mile journey, the snow impeding their progress as best it could, managing perhaps half a mile an hour through the crowded 51st street avenue trees began to fill their view as Central Park loomed in front of them, massive and impenetrable as ever.

Feeling a growing pit in the bottom of his stomach, gnawing at his conciseness as he mentally recapped that damnable park and the man who called it home, they called him Faelin, Firebug or half a dozen other less politically correct nicknames that Viktor felt suited the man better. He was well aware f the danger the man posed to their journey but he was prepared this time, unlike their last encounter he would not be caught unawares by the mans wiles and tricks. Checking on a specially designed vacuum type grenade he had made specifically to snuff out fires he let out an audible grunt of annoyance as he gently pushed open a brass door, stepping inside to the once renowned Doubles Club, sheltering himself and Deorai from the elements, at least until they ventured out into Central Park once more.

Turning to Deorai he spoke slowly, his voice gravely yet carrying a razors edge of clarity.

"Inside Central Park is a man named Faelin, you may or may not have heard of him but it matters not seeing as I'm about to tell you. The man is an expert with fire and carries around a military grade flamethrower at all times, he is more than adapt at using it as I have learned from personal experience. If we encounter him, do not, I repeat, do not attack him unprovoked. I wish to try diplomacy with the man, we have a shared... history to put it that way. I hope to avoid the man entirely but I doubt it will happen, he likely already knows I am here, on the edges of his forest. But what can we do hm? We go in, make haste to the tunnel and get to the wreckage as quickly as we can, understood?"
"All weapons are important to an Echani. A hand built weapon is part of the Echani. I built her by hand, crafting the hilt over weeks of trial and error. She is very much a part of me, like a child, or a spouse. With out the weapon, you cannot defend your life, if you cannot defend your life you have no life. So we treat our weapons with respect. We honor them, as they honor us by being our defenders, our tools, an extension of ourselves. A weapon is an extension of ones soul."
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#9373271 Apr 12, 2014 at 07:00 PM · Edited over 2 years ago
62 Posts
Deoraí watches the man, and nods slowly, following the DKS wielding man. He constantly messed with his coat, trying to retain more warmth in any way possible, never moving too much at once as to not cause an altercation with Viktor. For once in probably his whole life, he didn't say much the entire trip. When Deoraí sees the expanse of the park come up he grins a bit finally speaking, "Thank God. Electricity, warmth." Whenever Viktor stops to give him the oh so vital tid bit of information outside the park he sighs and shakes his head, "Why am I not surprised? Someone like you, such an amazing personality. I thought you'd have friends everywhere and I -wouldn't- get shot in civilized areas around you." His tone is obviously sarcastic, and Deoraí's eyes dart around now searching for the figure described by the Russian. "Mind if I run off for ten? Pick up some supplies? Bit low on some things." He faces Viktor once more, arching a brow, taking one step away but no further, waiting for a response.
Rule No. 9- "When forced to compromise, ask for more."

Rule No. 10- "If you can't win, change the rules"

Rule No. 11- "If you can't change the rules, ignore them"
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