|
Users viewing this topic:
none
|
|
Login  | |
|
RE: writtersroundtable's rpg - 4/24/2008 4:45:47 PM
|
|
|
Ye-Olde-Roleplayer
Posts: 22
Status: offline
|
The credits made a faint plastic clatter as they changed hands.
Filthy little things.
No seriously, filthy.
He was a doctor, he should know.
There wasn't much stuff that was more contaminated and germ-covered than credits, these days. They had even started making credit pouches with UV sanitizers in the mouths.
Two cases of Scurvy, seven broken bones, four stabbings, twelve shootings, (three of them fatal, he was a doctor, not a god,) and still not enough for the rent. If things kept going this way, he'd have to kill his landlord before he was evicted by blaster bolt. Being a doctor was good business, what with the exceedingly brutal governmental practices of the Pernesians these days, and the inescapable fact that Borka had the highest rate of stabbings, shootings, muggings, pickpocketings, beatings, and general unpleasant interpersonal encounters in the quadrant. At least, the bad side did. Topside, of course, was a tourist attraction, all glitter, toothy white smiles, and simulated vice. The Peacekeepers would "evict" any troublemakers in the aforementioned manner up in the light.
But down below...
That's a Nerf of a different color.
Glitterstim, Ryll, Giggledust, Andris, Avabush, Booster Blue, Carsunum, Crash n' Burn, Firespice, Glitteryll, Gree, Grey Gabaki, any sort of drug you could imagine. Pick your poison, quite literally. You could find thugs, assassins, the hunted, the hunters, crime bosses, informants, hunt saboteurs, Slythmongers, Sluicers, Slavers, Pirates, Marauders, any sort of undesirable company you happened to desire, in other words.
That was also where you'd find Doctor Tybalt Marlowe, holder of more degrees than you could actually physically carry, the man wanted under the alias of Vykk Drago for the massacre on the Stardust, and the best doctor for parsecs fixing derelicts with broken arms and struggling to make the rent on the dingy flophouse he currently took up residence in. Yeah, times where tough. Even the Good Doctor'd had to blow off a would-be mugger's head the other day. What where times coming to?
Doctor Tybalt Marlowe stood, wiping a bit of sweat off his brow, long, thin fingers brushing against the tips of his short-cropped silver hair. The bum below him was dead. The homemade blade had gone too deep into the stupid-drunk man's chest cavity. The poor stupid piece of gristle, eight-day beard, and alcohol-polluted blood had fallen on his own sharpened toothbrush handle exiting a well-known drinking establishment in the area. Well, being thrown out of a well known drinking establishment in the area. He had actually stood up and tried to walk away, then fallen on his little shiv after tripping on a brick, so it wasn't technically the bouncer's fault. Not that anyone would have cared. A bum's life is cheap on the Dark Side of Borka.
The doc's assistant was a large, burly humanoid of indeterminate species today, who had been the lucky recipient of a free shrapnel removal in return for a day's work hauling dead bodies and holding scalpels. The doctor irritably indicated the dead hobo, silently prompting the "nurse" to get it out of the little alcove Marlowe was currently using as a doctor's office. When the humanoid creature didn't come back, apparently deciding that the workday was over, it was time for the doctor to leave, too. He wasn't gonna haul any dead bums anytime soon. Time to pack up. The various medical tools went back in the bag, one by one, and soon, he was gone, heading for a terminal pointing Topside. About time for a drink out of a clean glass, something that was considered a mythical creature on the Dark Side.
Before long, he was slipping through the swinging doubledoors of Ramsey's, sidestepping a trio of humanoids jabbering about passenger ferrying and carefully over a laid out body. He glanced back at the unconscious man as he slumped onto the barstool. He seemed to be alive. Maybe he'd be needing medical attention when he woke up. Or rather, maybe he could be persuaded that he needed medical attention. Much more likely.
As if by some sud-slinger magic, the 'tender appeared at his elbow in an instant.
"Ruby Bliels. Double."
The credits made a faint plastic clatter as they changed hands.
< Message edited by Ye-Olde-Roleplayer -- 4/25/2008 1:59:56 AM >
_____________________________
Indeed.
|
|
|
|
|
RE: writtersroundtable's rpg - 4/28/2008 2:31:36 AM
|
|
|
Novalist
Posts: 618
Joined: 6/3/2006
Status: offline
|
It was a beast of a ship.
No, really it was, complete with claws and everything thought Aiden as they approached the grimy landing pad on which it reclined.
It defied logic and reason just by the fact that the now slumbering monolith had carried him thus far and remained in one piece. It had earned his respect because he was certain deep down inside himself that the only thing holding the derelict ship together was age itself and a primeval determination that metal rarely possessed.
The metal plating of the outer hull had been fused with obsidian ore from his home world of Byre so that a the hazy grey of metal faded into depth teasing blackness as your gaze roamed over it making it seem as if the outer hull shifted and grew larger or smaller. The armaments had seen better days the turrets blanketed with the same enervating ore were solid enough to withstand a volley of direct laser fire yet the firing terminals and gyrating axis was rusted and sticky with age, the targeting view sluggish with disuse and sparking fuselage.
The inner hull had not been reinforced and as Aiden lowered the ramp he could hear the whole ship adjusting to the slight shift in its balance, struts and rust hallowed beams groaning in protest, twisted and blackened walls rippling slightly in the cockpit as the air pressure readjusted itself.
The shape of it reminded him of a Scarthi arching its back as it unsheathed its claws before pouncing on some unsuspecting morsel. He remembered the legends and myths surrounding its arrival and subsequent crashing on his planet, how the elders had told him of its graceful flight.
Like a newborn star, they had said, it winked into existence scorching through the night its shape contorting as the atmosphere ate away at the metal almost as if it had a will of its own to live. They had told him that it had looked like a bird before it had hit the clouds and then above the frozen tribes it had closed in on itself until its shape resembled what it was now. Rather similar to the photon weapons they had liberated from the charred remains of the inhabitants when they had finally managed to tear the side of it open. Apparently the ship had sprouted a pressure leak as it hit cloud cover and the air had reacted with the atmosphere on board and incinerated everything inside.
Although death was death Aiden could think of a lot better ways to die honorably than being burned from the inside out. He shrugged gesturing towards the now open hatch as he watched Thea's reaction carefully.
"There she lies," he intoned solemnly "I would tread cautiously once inside and I'm not sure how much life she has left in her but if you still want her than I see no reason to delay finalizing our deal."
Just then from inside the maw of the open hatchway came a small explosion and a puff of black smoke floated sinuously past the frame to dissipate in the surrounding air.
Aiden winced and the subtle groan coming from the interior of the ship seemed to increase slightly as if pressure was building up behind the warped interior. He felt a sense of relief flood through him at the realization that once Thea traded with him he wouldn't have to face boarding the ship again.
_____________________________
Live life to the fullest and it will never become empty.
Although one picture speaks a thousand words, a thousand words make a better picture.
Reading is the art of seeing the pictures between the lines.
|
|
|
|
|
RE: writtersroundtable's rpg - 4/28/2008 2:07:56 PM
|
|
|
Rikku
Posts: 192
Joined: 11/14/2005
Status: offline
|
cold watter flowed down on thom and he wok with a start. he sputtered as he jumped up going form horizontel to a fighting position in a matter of seconds. He swore as he rubbed the spot where thea had hit him. "that Gorram Whore," he said aloud wondering how she could always hit his old injory form when they were kids. he then looked at the strange female who had woke him Up, "what the Lasue did you do that for." he brushed pasted her to the bar and ordered the barkeep, "beer!"
Thea looked at the ship, it was in worse shape then she had thought, "well," she said disopointment hardly hiddend in her voice, "You are definetly braver then I thought." She Typed in a message on to the Ports anouncements that the ship Sheol would be taking passangers to Delphmont Passage was 150 Credits cash only, at Bay t 90. The departure time would be anounced with in the hour.
Pete was waiting there for them. "Please thea don't tell me you over paid for this Go-sen of a ship."
Thea glared at him and sent her anouncement. she then turned beck to Aiden, "Yes i still want it. Here's the deal, I don't get paid till after i make the shipment So I can't pay you till after the drop. you are welcom to ride along to Delphmont then i'll pay you and Farry you to the planet or whatever you want."
the ship gave off a puff of black smoke. Thea shook her head. a ship like this couldhave been great, if the pilot and captain had treated her right. she was the kind of ship that if you got to know her she would tell her captain when she was hurten and push harder then most, if she was loved. this ship had been run into the ground, it was a miricle that the ship had soared at all.
< Message edited by Rikku -- 4/29/2008 2:01:49 PM >
_____________________________
beautiful things make sad people happy and bad people better.
~Trance Gemin andromeda
|
|
|
|
|
RE: writtersroundtable's rpg - 5/1/2008 3:36:23 PM
|
|
|
ScarletFury
Posts: 115
Joined: 8/4/2005
From: The Land of dreamweavers & Words
Status: offline
|
The corners of her mouth twitched before curving upwards into a smile. “Really?” Mychel purred. “From my point of view, I thought it was most…amusing.” She trailed after him as he went up to the bar, studying him from behind.
He yelled at the barkeeper for a drink and she had to hide a smile.
My, my, aren’t you cute when you’re angry? She rolled her shoulders back, trying to ignore the itch between her wings. Wearing the jacket was awkward, but necessary. The barbs could kill a potential ally before the negotiations ever began.
She sighed, pushing away her briefly happy feelings into a mental box where she swallowed the key.
Settling onto the seat beside him, she angled her body so her back was to the gaggling group behind. “Thom…is it?” She began. “I have a proposition for you, from my employer, Kurt Grendall.”
Something buzzed softly through the air, landing on her shoulder. Mychel stiffened, reaching up to let down her hair and hide the unwanted visitor. She twirled a few stray strands around her finger.
Gothar, what is it now? Can’t you see I’m busy?
But I have news, your ladyship
Gothar…interrupt me and I will personally pluck your wings before I crush you to death.
Milady would kill me for bringing her most vital news?
The soft whine fizzed up a few notches.
Mycel reached upwards, apparently tucking more hair behind her ear as she palmed her bothersome messenger. Holding Gothar captive in her cupped hands, she fixed a smile on her face. “Thom, my employer wishes to enlist your services in…ridding us of a certain rebel group….”
_____________________________
Prayers needed! www.helpsusan.com
FAWM 2008 Winner!
EdMo 2008 Winner!
Screnzy 2008 Winner!
Where do YOUR thoughts take you? Wandering Thoughtstream
|
|
|
|
|
RE: writtersroundtable's rpg - 5/1/2008 4:24:50 PM
|
|
|
ScarletFury
Posts: 115
Joined: 8/4/2005
From: The Land of dreamweavers & Words
Status: offline
|
“Well, uh…” Yari stalled. There was no way she could ‘safely’ explain her destination, least of all in her current surroundings. “Actually…um, it could change…when could we leave?”
A familiar purring voice seemed to be coming from behind her. Yari chanced a peek over one shoulder, as casually as she could.
Her throat ached again at the thought of throwing up. Mychel. What’s she doing here?
Yari swallowed. “If you could go right now…that’d be great…like right now, this very minute, right now.”
_____________________________
Prayers needed! www.helpsusan.com
FAWM 2008 Winner!
EdMo 2008 Winner!
Screnzy 2008 Winner!
Where do YOUR thoughts take you? Wandering Thoughtstream
|
|
|
|
|
RE: writtersroundtable's rpg - 5/1/2008 7:22:23 PM
|
|
|
ShutterBox
Posts: 1024
Joined: 4/12/2005
Status: offline
|
Ships of all make and model lined the perimeter of the docking station. As usual, it was crowded and very busy. Aakii ducked in between two freighters and, making sure there was no sign of anyone, let out her ICD(Inter-planet Cellular Device) from her belt.
"I've got a lead on a young Loren female. About five feet and 3....4 inches. Short razor cut, looks like she did it her self."
"Don't make jokes. Where is she now?"
"Ramsy's, recruiting a ferrier I believe. There was another one, but he literally disappeared before my eyes. It was cloaked, so I can't give you any more details."
"I don't have to tell you to make sure this one doesn't slip through your fingers. Ceres is only one mistake away for you."
-bzep-
"That *glutterbaum's lucky he isn't here, right now, without his body guards." She murmured as she slammed the ICD to fold.
She emerged from the boarding strip and took a look around. The port wasn't the cleanest place...Now she could take in the scene of musty crewmen, exotic visiters, and magnificent ships. Glerica's moons were glowing softly in the distance. For such an uninhabitable place it was beautiful in that hour.
*insulting pun on a posterior rub for general pain. Used by long distance travelers and for some minor injury relief.
< Message edited by ShutterBox -- 5/1/2008 7:31:58 PM >
_____________________________
The Picture Muse
Adopted Sibs:
Rae
Elizabeth
Nikki
|
|
|
|
|
RE: writtersroundtable's rpg - 5/4/2008 5:26:00 AM
|
|
|
GrandAdmiralThrawn
Posts: 31
Joined: 10/3/2007
Status: offline
|
after hours of trying to decipher the message. He decided to go to the only one he could trust. With stealth to make sure no one followed him. He he caught up to Thea at the space port. In a language he knew only Thea would know. He told her "that their was a top secret message that he could not decode and that it was for the commander of the rebellion". so may I join you guys? I can pay my way or help out with the computer guidance system if need be.
< Message edited by GrandAdmiralThrawn -- 5/5/2008 8:43:01 PM >
_____________________________
"Imagination is more important than knowledge." Albert Einstein
God blesses everyone so help other that need it and bless their day :Thrawn
|
|
|
|
|
RE: writtersroundtable's rpg - 5/7/2008 3:28:15 PM
|
|
|
Blueoriontiger
Posts: 5
Joined: 8/24/2005
Status: offline
|
Tisme and Janeil looked at each other in surprise. Right now?
"Uh...theoretically, we just got here." Tisme spoke up.
"Yeah...but if you need to go somewhere, and you pay us well, we'll see." Janeil looked around. "We're at docking bay 43, for large freighter vessels on the second docking deck. Meet us there and tell us where you want to go."
Tisme swiped a card to pay for their drinks as she and Janeil got off their stools and walked out of the bar.
Outside, Tisme looked behind her. "Why do I have the feeling we're being dragged into something?"
Janeil shrugged. "I don't know, I have it too. I also have the feeling that there's more that meets the eye...and that people are watching us." He nudged Tisme. "I feel a lot safer in Night Raven. Come on."
|
|
|
|
 New Messages |
 No New Messages |
 Hot Topic w/ New Messages |
 Hot Topic w/o New Messages |
 Locked w/ New Messages |
 Locked w/o New Messages |
|
 Post New Thread
Reply to Message
Post New Poll
Submit Vote
Delete My Own Post
Delete My Own Thread
Rate Posts |
|
|
Forum Tools
Printable Version
