ctrlsaltdel

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

How long would it take Ijin to reach the spaceport on foot?

@rush99999

I'd say something like an hour; if you have any thoughts on speeding that up I'll let you roll for it.

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

Ijin, you slither down the accessway and into the crowd below, undetected. The motion of the foot traffic carries you away from the scene of the crime just as the patrol car pulls up; from behind you, you can hear House security agents shouting to each other as they pound up the steps.

Molly, Quintus, and Silas, RU-0K turns out to be an acceptable substitute for the groundcar's key, so you do the same. Given Molly's usual driving style, you make good time, too, and by the time the fire brigade is hosing down the mess you left behind, you're well on your way to the spaceport.

Said facility is really just the minimum viable infrastructure for getting ships from space to the surface and vice-versa. It sits on a few hundred acres of otherwise unoccupied land at the edge of the district that has been subdivided into landing plots; for "traffic control", a squat prefab building sits out front, with a large broadcast tower off to one side behind a chainlink fence. A parking lot that likely predates the spaceport's present contains several cars--none of which look as nice as yours, even with the broken window.

All that's left to do is get the ship running, obtain clearance from ground control, and kiss the atmosphere goodbye.

Except--you all look around and realize--you're still a team member short.

Eidolon: Conspiracy Theory

Ohhh, I thought Luka had already reached out to ask, I see now that I did fully misread. Sorry, brain's been spinny lately.

EDIT: Wait, I thought this was the next morning?

Eidolon: Conspiracy Theory

<Snipped quote by ctrlsaltdel>

I suggest we keep it instead

@Digmata

Hm--I'd rather not because IC one of the reasons for the meeting is that they've been working on Ashley's name change, and it doesn't make a lot of sense to me for them to then get the name they've been working on changing for the last day or so wrong.

(Though now that I think about it that would be a pretty funny result for a negative draw...)

(Also, so far it looks like Jesse uses they/them pronouns, but I'll let @rush99999 speak on that)

Eidolon: Conspiracy Theory

@digmata, whoops, typo, lemme fix that

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

@rush99999, I'm leaning towards not dinging you a stress for that flashback, but I do think that a Skulk roll for blending in is appropriate. I'll give you Risky position (if you get made immediately it'll be trouble, the cops are already out looking for you), Great effect (if you don't get made immediately, you're home free).

Eidolon: Conspiracy Theory

Jesse's eyes follow Luka and Ashley as they walk into the VIP section, but instead of responding right away, they continued their solitary dance for the few seconds it takes the DJ to transition to the next track. As the high-tempo track resolves into something more sedate, they make their way to the bar, calling over their shoulder.

"A lot of people have said a lot of things about you, Luka, but I've never heard anyone say you don't know how to party." Ice clinks, liquid is poured, but when they set the three old-fashioned glasses on the table, a first taste would confirms that they contain only soda with a splash of lime--no alcohol. Jesse settles down on a chair kitty-corner from Luka and leans back, legs crossed and fingers tented.

"Miss," they nod a greeting to Ashley. "It's good to formally meet you, though I hadn't expected you to be here for this." Jesse turns their gaze to Luka. "But you learn to expect the unexpected when working with Mr. Durand. Who I'm glad to see is ok, by the way." An eyebrow goes up. "Apparently there was some kind of gas leak reported at Mario's yesterday morning, though from what I understand, the fire department couldn't find anything when they showed up. Other than a big mess in the kitchen, that is." They picked up their soda and lime and took a long sip; the tone of the comment is light, but their eyes slowly and deliberately meet both Luka's and Ashley's in turn.

@rush99999 @Digmata

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

If I'm counting correctly we're still waiting on one more die from @Penny, right? 2 for skill, 1 for gambit, 1 for assist?

Eidolon: Conspiracy Theory

Call In a Favor is indeed the Downtime Activity that I wish to partake in, and you are welcome to draw for it now if you want. Though if you do draw now, I would like to request that you keep the results secret until Luka actually calls in the favor IC.

@rush99999

Gotcha gotcha. Lemme go re-read all of the bits where Jesse shows up real quick lol, I'll get a post up by tomorrow night.

Noble Arms: The ASEAN War - Thread Three, the Darkest Hour

---

SPC "Mikey" Rangel

---

“Friendly incoming – no blue-on-blue.”

Mikey froze, Angel Duster in her hands but not yet aimed to deliver the next smoke grenade. The voice sounded familiar--and here, a familiar voice with an American accent could only be so many people. The young woman rolled onto an arm and swiveled her head around--the gesture a bit wild--looking for the "incoming" friendly. Her guess was confirmed a mere moment later, and in the present moment, whether her lack of surprise to Callie's sudden appearance displayed a surfeit or a deficit of composure was really anyone's guess.

“Specialist.”

"H-hi." She hiccuped out the greeting, but thankfully Callie seemed to have better things to do than listen to her stammer. Mikey's eyes tracked the view of the telescope--presumably the other woman's Noble Arm--reluctantly back to the chaos below. Those eyes went wide as she watched the handiwork written upon the riders. "They just fell apart," Mikey breathed, not even realizing she had spoken aloud. Her own destruction of the technical had taken a lot of prep, all told, and had been loud and--something in the back of her mind was screaming--messy. Callie had disabled over ten times as many vehicles in seconds--and a dark corner of Mikey's mind noted that she might not even have killed anyone in the process.

Mikey turned back to the other woman, mouth slightly ajar, as she heard Callie heave a breath of exertion.

“Any orders in effect? If we need evac –”

Before Mikey could speak up, the radio crackled to life.

""All-zzzt-Police units, plus Callie - take the motorbikers into custody; do not-zzzt-them escape! Mike-zzzt-bserve the remaining Technicals as they drive thr-zzzt-tell Nil where and what to shoot! Archer-zzzt-to the breaches on the western fence and cut off their rou-zzzt"

Her first thought was, Oh, thank god, Griff's ok.

Mikey shook her head, took a deep breath, and grabbed the radio. "A-affirmative, your highness. Over. She released the talk key and waved the radio at Callie. "So you just heard all the orders I've got right now. All I know at the moment is we're under attack." Fuck, what information was she supposed to include in her report? "Number of hostiles unknown. One hostile Arms Master, um, neutralized? Fewer vehicles now, I think there are still about three technicals with mounted guns. Uh, sorry--uh, I've gotta... yeah."

She grimaced--Christ, even under current circumstances she was embarassed to look that uncool in front of Callie--rolled back on her stomach, and used a pair of binoculars to peer over the edge of the roof. The technicals had starting moving forward into the camp proper, leaving their disabled sibling behind and pushing the crowd forward--both with the mounted guns and by the simple expedient of driving into them where they were too close to shoot.

Mikey was silent for as she took it all in. For a long moment, she didn't even take a breath. Finally she let out a long, ragged exhale; her inhale was shaky as she keyed the radio, her voice flat, almost robotic.

"Nil, right?" Another breath, this one steadier. "Three targets. All thinly armored. The crowd is heading your way, so watch your fire. There's a big truck about twenty meters to your six o'clock. True to her word, there was an M35 cargo truck parked behind the group on the ground; the soldiers who had used it to haul supplies to the camp had abandoned it when the shooting started, but its roof stood almost three meters off the ground. "You may be able to use that as a vantage point." Mikey resumed her prone shooting position, the barrel of her gun tracking down--"Targets are approaching from the west--first target is at your two o'clock, seventy meters."--past the northernmost technical she had just called out to Nil, until the second technical sat between the metal sightposts. The truck wasn't moving quickly--it literally couldn't, in the cramped confines of the camp--and it was barely more than a hundred and fifty feet away from her perch at this point. Mikey took an extra moment to aim before firing, four rounds rapid, at the man on the mounted gun.