Penny

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

"So sexy," Molly observed in the distracted sultry tone she often employed when contemplating rough men, big guns, and most especially - fast ships. Cerberus squatted on the pad, his black hull dull with lidar absorbing paint, studded at regular intervals with weapon pods and sensor arrays that projected a sense of menace. It was squat, nearly as broad as it was wide, somewhat distorted by its three massive engine cowlings.

"Let's get the groceries aboard," she suggested, though she was already heading up the ramp and turning right towards the cockpit. She practically flung herself into her cushioned pilots couch, the angle of the leap making the chair spin on its gimbels. She extended and retracted her legs making the spin speed up and slow down with centrifugal force. The cockpit was Molly's domain and characteristically a place of chaos. Flat surfaces were covered with complicated marks in grease pencil, mapping out dogfights Molly had participated in or heard of. Colorful commentary intruded on the manuevers at various point declaring: 'wow' or 'wtf' or 'you have to be fucking kidding me' depending on Molly's opinion on this gambit or that. Pictographs, bar flyers, and beer labels were plasted seemingly at random, ranging from lewd to pornographic in their material. Boxes of cigarettes and medical stims were taped at strategic points to provide easy access.

Molly stopped the spin and started bringing systems to life with deft movements of her fingers. Implants in her fingers allowed her to manipulate holographic screens which sprang to life all around her. For a moment one might have been tempted to consider her a consummate professional but that image was exploded by the image of an eight inch phallus which had been painted on the back of her control couch, complete with the words 'you must be at least this tall to ride this ride'.

"I'm getting us clearance," Molly reported. "Just so we will be ready when the sniper rifle gets back."

Penny's Pencils

De Trop Disgrace: Warhammer Fantasy RP

The man smiled a broken tooth grin and stuck his pinky finger in his ear, working it back and forth in search of wax for a moment. His eyes slid sideways to Emmaline who was gathering her cream colored traveling dress around herself. Despite the fact that they had been on the road for days it still looked suspiciously immaculate despite its pale color.

“Awww if that aint a sight for sore eyes,” he observed, earning himself a glare from Emmaline who sat down and waved at the waitress for more ham. It was ruinously expensive, easily four times what it was before the trouble began, but folk weren’t parting with food cheaply in these troubled times.

“It won’t be your eyes that are sore if you don’t answer my question whoever you are,” Kasimir replied in a deadly tone.

“Don’t be getting your pantaloons in a twist yer lordship,” the man responded. He reached for the plate of ham the waitress set in front of Emmaline, but then paused as she reversed her grip on the knife and arched an eyebrow. The newcomer let out a low chuff of amusement.

“You can call me Kreef,” he said before continuing, “and as for what she told me, not all that much, only that you might be able to help us settle a few thing in the city, what with all this uncertainty.” Kasimir cast a jaundiced look at Emmaline before returning his attention to Kreef.

“And who is we?” Kasimir asked.

“Just a group of concerned citizens,” Kreef replied, he twitched his hand and spun a brass penny across the top of his knuckles, it spun just slowly enough that Kasimir could make out a casting flaw in the hammer on one side which made it look instead like a pair of crossed fingers.

“Just simple folk,” Kreef repeated as he made the coin disappear. “Smarter than she looks too, aint no other way you’d find a spot on a boat before the beastmen are swarming both sides of the river.”

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

Assist was a 2 so the partial stands

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

"Well transport is sorted," Quintus declared, "if you can just pick the lock and get it...." A red masonry smashed through the passenger side window in a spray of cerama-crys that tinkled musically as it fell. Quintus spun to see Molly distainfully wiping the brick dust off on the legs of her flight suit. Molly smiled and flashed a 'what can you do' smile.

"Sometimes life outpaces metaphor," he observed dryly.

"Yeah yeah," Molly replied, reaching through the broken window to unlock the door and then climbing across into the drivers seat. RU-0k began chirping as Ijin feed began cascading across his screen. Molly grabbed one of his appendages and thrust it into the control board. The ur-bot squawked in irritating but began to power the vehicle on with a soft thrumb.

"All aboard!" Molly called out to her two companions as she began to fiddle with the seat adjustor to make it more comfortable.

partial success

4,1,1 with the use of a gambit

Wealth and Warpstorms

7 Days Later....

“He cannot STILL be sulking?” Camilla demanded as she lounged in her command throne. The dozens of bridge stations were empty, save for where gilded servitors in the form of gleaming armored footmen. The words echoed around the cavernous space, utilizing the excellent acoustics designed to carry the captain’s words to the bridge crew during the chaos of a battle. Camilla’s words were tinged with nearly seven days without more than a few hours sleep. She had been on the bridge nearly every hour, not because she was a hard task master but because she was the only one with the right plugs to interface with the Navarre. Jocasta had performed on the fly modifications to her own implants that Camilla suspected would border on heretechial if any of her cults higher members ever learned of them in an attempt to help but even this only allowed her to access some system. They needed bridge officers immediately, so that was their first stop.

“I’m sure he is merely busy with his duties as Seneshal,” Jocasta replied soothingly. Camilla snorted and tossed her hair in disdain at that suggestion.

“As my Seneshal he should be on the bridge when….” Reality lurched violently as the Navarre burst back into real space, twenty seconds ahead of the chronometers. Jocasta let out a stream of binaric that Camilla was pretty sure was entirely curse words and leaped to her feet, immediately close hangering herself because she hadn’t properly disconnected her implats. Trailing sparks and more colorful curses she began running around the bridge furiously swinging a censor of lit incense and splashing sacred unquents in all directions.

“Lord Captain, we have exited the Immaterium,” the cultured voice of Chandra, her navigator informed her.

“I see that,” Camilla responded tartly as she touched the controls to begin withdrawing the great shields which protected the bridge from gazing into the horror of the warp. The vast sheets slid back slowly, the leading edge still trailing the liquor of the warp in long greenish gold tendrils from which Camilla averted her eyes. In the distance she could just make out the pale green dot that was her target, a bright star against an endless starfield.

“Why were we early?” she demanded. For a moment she didn’t think Chandra was going to answer her, the Navis Nobilitie were a close mouthed lot at the best of time.

“We are never early, nor are we late, we arrive precisely as the Emperor wills,” Chandra replied.

“Very helpful,” Camilla retorted as she cut the vox link.
“Cam… that is Captain,” Jocasta broke in as she stared over the shoulder of a warbling servitor. “We have two vessels bearing down on us, range….uhhh 1.5 million kilometerish. Camilla cocked an eyebrow at kilmoterish but stood from her throne and stepped down into the shimmering actuality sphere, placing her hands on the lectern. A three dimensional view of the space around them sprang into existence, locating the nearby planet and the approaching ships. They were a Sword class destroyer and what looked like a half rebuilt cobra class corvette. The destroyer was flying the name Provost, and the corvette Hound of Perdition.

“Unidentified vessel this is the Imperial Navy Vessel Provost,” a scratchy voice piped into her ears. “Heave to and prepare to be boarded!” Camilla felt her frustration surge up inside of her like bile. She adjusted the engines and the Navarre began to heel to port, moving out of their intercept triangle onto a reciprocal course with Provost.

“Jocasta dear, be so good as to drag my Seneshal up here so that he might announce me before I teach these peasants a lesson?”

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

How do I use a gambit does it just give me an extra dice?

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

Molly nodded her head, eager as ever to be left out of such tawdry tasks as 'lifting' and 'carrying' and 'doing any real work' as Quintus liked to put it. Behind here there was a dull wumph and a fireball as a vat of sesame oil ruptured and burst into flames, raising a lazy, low intensity, fireball from the burning noodle truck.

"If you find me a car I promise to drive it in a way that no lawful authorities will be ABLE to catch it," Molly replied, the emphasis making the answer a little less reassuring than the words alone might have coveyed.

"Hey, hey!" Molly called to her ur-bot tapping the boxy unit on the LCD display as it continued to make katana poses with the surviving chopsticks.

"Spot any vehicles on the way in?" she asked. The ur-bot rotated and thrust out both it's hands with a magician's flourish to indicate the burning wreck.

"If you don't stop being such a wise ass I'll have Buzz Killington shot YOU in the leg," she threatened. The ur-bot beeped in a sulky tone and began a scan of the area.

OOC

Taking a stress to give Quintus another dice
@POOHEAD189

Cogs in the Wheel: WoT RP

Zoya cursed Davian for a woolheaded fool as they forged their way through the crowd of noisy and smelly humanity. Twice she had to slap away pickpockets, which in itself was a problem because even a very wise goodwife shouldn’t have been quite so adept at spotting them. It took her back to her own childhood in Tanchico where she had lifted her own share of purses, and was struck by the sudden insane urge to try her luck. It had been years since she had used the skill for anything beyond befuddling the odd Aes Sedai though and the risk of failure was too high. And who knew, there might be thief takers about.

By the time the reached the tavern, an unprepossessing place named the Mast Head, she was compiling a list of Davian’s many faults. Whether he wanted to or not he had forced her to come with him, she dare not risk his connection to the Saddle Light to something as mundane as a drunken knifing, nor could she have convinced him to stay without using arguments that would have revealed too much to Maddy. The other Brown already thought she was looking at him as a potential warder which was bad enough if gossip got back to the Tower, but if word got out about her real mission entire armies might be thrown at them, and not only armies of the Shadow. There were many monarchs and rulers who would give almost anything to lay claim to the Horn for their own ends, none of which would serve the needs of the Light and the White Tower.

“Some might say it has charm,” Zoya said, skirting as close to her oaths as was possible as they stepped into the tavern. It was built of sections of old ships, the walls and floors a hodgepodge of dozens of different vessels given the wide variance in wood grains. Rushes, ubiquitous in a marshy area like this, had been scattered liberally over the floor, giving it a swampy overtone to the salt smell of the estuarine sea. The tables were surplus barrels, probably beef or fish casks which no longer could be calked to hold fluid but still provided surfaces for clay tankards and dice games of dubious repute. The sole piece of stone work was a rather impressive central chimney made of mortared river stone that opened on three of its four sides. A fire of crackling driftwood popped and snapped within, heating a large cauldron that contained stew of some kind. Several joints of meat were being turned on spits by an indifferent looking child with a pimply complexion, the drippings falling into narrow trays in the Tarien fashion to be used as grease and gravy later. The whole place smelled of ale, wood smoke, cooking meat, and old mildew.

The denizens of this place looked just as varied and scrofulous as their surroundings. Zoya thought they were probably a cut above the unwashed humanity that filled the streets, but it was a fairly shallow cut. The tongues of a half dozen nations combined into a dull roar as everyone lifted their voices a few octaves to be heard over the yells of their neighbours. They were ships captains or ships officers for the most part, with a smattering of local business men and artisans, people who were sick enough of the taste of fish to pay a little something for meat without gills. The saddest excuse for a gleeman sat beside the fireplace, vainly plucking at his battered lute and trying to engage the attention of anyone who would look at him without any real success.

Irritating as ever, Davian ignored her comment and strode to an empty barrel, taking a seat on the rough three legged stool. At least the woolhead picked one far enough away from the fire to provide some shadows and Zoya took a seat across from him. A well endowed barmaid trailed over after a few minutes, her tired walk becoming something of a strut as she got a look at the thief taker.

“What can I do for you sailor,” she asked with innocently contrived innuendo.

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

@ctrlsaltdel

What would I need to roll to locate another vehicle?