POOHEAD189

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

Quintus eyes flicker between Cho-Tyrek and the Ur-bot. He did not like complications, and the questionable relationship between the two was a curiosity he wasn't interested in. However, it seemed like the Ur-bot was out for the count now, and since it was already too damaged to go anywhere, he slung his pack onto the ground and quickly stuffed the thing into his pack, shoving it before zipping it back up. The muscled mercenary slung it back over his shoulders and approached Cho.

"Sure, pal. I'll let you go," He said, menace in his voice. Quintus reached down and gripped the man by his unbroken arm, lifting him up and holding him at arm's length with one hand. "Right after we collect. Seems only fair after all the trouble you've caused."

He felt the heat on his back, and glanced back once again at the burning truck. They needed to get the cog out of the clock, so to speak. He motioned for Molly to head over to his position, mostly because it was out of the soon-to-be explosion's blast radius, but also to speak. "Let's get out of here. Hey Mal, if I find you a car, can you drive it without having it catch on fire? Or get caught by the lawful authorities? Tall order, I know."

He scanned the street and the accompanying parking lots, looking for a vehicle that could fit five people and some equipment. It didn't have to be comfortable, just workable.

My Hider

Quintus studies and rolls a Roll a 4, 1

Wealth and Warpstorms

Alcander gave her a long, hard look. One that seemed to last forever, until the severity was switched off as if someone pulled a lever. After that, Alcander merely looked at Camilla like he looked at any superior officer, any aristocratic snob that ordered him about. He looked at her just as he had the same people he had learned to loathe during his time in the service. Neutral, with a muted disdain only vaguely evident to those used to seeing it. He didn't even say anything, just raising his hand as if to say 'very well' and taking the assigned seat, not willing to pass up on free food. He would do his duty, to the least extent it was needed. If she wanted his full loyalty, she should have asked. Especially after the loyalty he had displayed the past few days.

Perhaps he was still reeling from the lack of sleep. Even after ten hours, going three days without was going to have an effect on one's psyche. However, he currently felt somewhat demoralized and disgusted, and so when Camilla began to sort out those remaining captains, Alcander dug into the food provided, not deigning to rein himself in when the amasec was rolled out and presented. He didn't make a belligerent show of it, but it was difficult not to notice he was on his third glass by the time the Ship's Confessor Horatio was just finishing his first.

"So, I believe we are all aware we have a massive manpower problem." Camilla remarked, either doing her best to ignore Alcander's imbibing or unaware of it from her thousand worries. It was at this assembly she would get her answers, as would everyone else's concerned be alleviated. There was precious little those assembled were not fully aware of in parts, they merely needed to fit them all together. As it stood, there were four other members on a table that should have housed thirty. Alcander was unaware of their names, having been too busy performing assault operations to get properly acquainted. One thing he was aware of, was the tech-priest at the table had been third in command before the attempted coup. His immediate superior had been swayed by Yvraine's promises of promotion, and had killed the head of the ship's mechanicum element, before he, himself, was executed.

Across from Alcander was the Chiurgeon, the head of the medicae who's name escaped him. He looked as tired as Alcander still felt, his wide face wrinkled from constant exertion. No doubt the casualties were even more enormous than reported. The medicae staff had likely been working every hour, on the hour, for nearly four days. By the dry skin evident of constant washing along his forearms, Alcander surmised he had been working along with his staff. Camilla indicated him. "Chiurgeon Colyphe, report. How bad is it?"

Alcander watched him consider the question, a multitude of questions flying through the man's thoughts. He could see them plain as day. What was he allowed to say? Was Camilla asking him to report losses, problems, or victories? Was she even worthy of her seat? Should he resign? If he asked for aid, would she have the power to grant it, or would she provide platitudes? What was he to do about the drunken seneschal looking directly at him? The last brought a sardonic smile to Alcander.

"Lady Captain, we are keeping it together as best we can. They are mostly battlefield wounds, as you might imagine." He said diplomatically. "We could perhaps use more beds, and any additional help in either medical or menial tasks would be appreciated. I have confidence if we are provided such, the vast majority of the wounded will live."

"Noted. Sensechel Mires, see to it he gets what he needs." She responded, pursing her lips.

"Couldae used soom o' the lads ye speced, couldn'tya?" Alcander quipped, placing his glass down, the fourth refill now in his belly. Camilla looked at him, and he plucked a link of sausage off the plate, chewing it gingerly. He shrugged. "We ken maybe requesetion soom o' the boys behlow nere th' engines and use 'em."

"Can we spare them?" Camilla asked, turning to the tech priest.

"No' sure, I've only behn on yer staff fer fifteen minutes." Alcander answered nonchalantly before the tech-priest could speak. As other eyes fell on him, he shrugged and kept chewing on his food. The servitor assigned to refill his glass did so for the fifth time, Alcander saluting the automaton before it whirred away.

"I can tell this will be entertaining..." The Confessor remarked dryly.

Cogs in the Wheel: WoT RP

"It would be safer if I went alone," Davian said, drawing an 'are you serious' look from Zoya. Maddy sipped her tea, and Davian wondered just exactly he had said wrong. It was not until later he realized she believed he was meaning safer for her. At that moment, he believed she was merely offended that a single individual could go about undetected far more easily than two, and he was used to slinking in alleyways and keeping a low profile.

"Safer, you say?" She asked, as if she was repeating the wild declarations of a child. "Perhaps, but if you think that can dissuade me from going with you, then you're more thick headed than you look. Now let's go before I bind you in weaves of air and keep you here while I get the food." With a toss of her raven hair, Zoya stepped out of the room to fetch her things. Davian raised an incredulous eyebrow at her as she sashayed away.

"It's none of my business, but I know men. You might care for her, but men always have this foolish notion of protecting us." Maddy said, patronizingly to Davian's point of view.

"Protecting her!? Care for her!?" Davian asked, confusion evident on his face. He was thinking of protecting himself! Not to mention the notion of caring for an Aes Sedai! He had only just gotten somewhat used to traveling with one. Women really did live in a reality outside of his own. She shook her head as if he was keeping secrets. He forced himself to stop staring, gave a dismissive 'aaaahhh' and waved a hand at her before muttering the Domani bachelor's saying of 'the more women there are about, the softer a wise man steps.' Good words to live by, in his estimation.

In short order, the two had their concealed weapons, along with Zoya having borrowed a small scarf to wrap around her hair to grant her a waifish look. With her simple dress, all she needed was a basket filled with produce and she would look the part of a farmer's pretty wife. Davian had found a wide brimmed hat to don, to keep prying eyes from meeting his own. He toyed with the idea of walking with a limp, but decided against it. They would not be out long. Maddy fixed them up a bit and bade them come back soon, as if to hit the point home. Zoya took Maddy's hands in her own and squeezed, before giving a wink as she and Davian stepped out into the sun.

The sinking light looked beautiful, and the relatively short buildings gave Godan a deceptively quaint look. However, the sounds and sights below the horizon were more like a busy morning than the end of a workday.

It was as if the two had been swept into a downhill stream, the crowd of locals and travelers rushing about them as a flood might. Davian had to keep his hand on his hat and his eyes peeled for pick pockets. The two summarily were pressed together for a brief moment, before almost being pulled apart. Zoya smacked a reaching hand that seemed to disappear once more into the crowd after she caught it, though whether it was up to thieving or salacious ends, she could never find out. A thickset, mustachioed Andorman with a huge pack on his broad back tried to squeeze past them, but the press was so tight, the pair of them had to grab a hold of one another's hands and push with the current before Davian spotted refuge on a street corner, the thief-taker yanking Zoya out like a fish on a line. The plump woman burst out of the crowd, almost gasping for air. Davian imagined being so short, she might feel smothered. He was not going to voice that concern aloud, though.

Next to them, a dog scratched at some fleas as two local dockmen were reclining on a pair of crates, one lighting the other's pipe. The other grinned at them as if he had a private joke.

"Two more streets of this," Zoya muttered, smoothing her dress and fixing her hair. "Why did we have to come out, again?"

Do not argue with her, the Domani thought.

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

Will give a reply in 24 hours!

Darkhearts: A Forgotten Realms RP

"Cruel witch!" Amal spat, his sexual frustrations going to new heights. He rolled around in bed for awhile, until he decided he couldn't take it anymore. He tore the covers off himself and told her he was going out for some air. The thief did not intend to be gone long, just long enough for the frigid temperatures to cool himself off. The picture of Charynrae straddling him and kissing his neck a bit too much for him to bear whilst he went to sleep.

The night was late, now, and the barroom below their shared suite was only sparsely populated, a few men and dwarves sat in disparate groups, whispering to one another as they nursed their drinks. The telltale smell of pipeweed enriched the air, but Amal did not stay. He merely glided past the murmurs and stepped out into the cold. Immediately, he saw the steam rise from his lips, his keen eyes catching the tossing and turning figures and stacks of items set within the tents just a few dozen yards before him. Many would-be adventurers looking for their fortunes set tents just before the gate to prepare themselves for their sojourns past the walls. He was almost tempted to sneak in amongst them and steal a few trinkets, but he had just gotten out of the wilderness. He was not about to risk it, at least not right now. Instead, he let the cold seep into him. Now that he had a room to go back to, it was not so bad. Well, it was, but it did not have the same psychological effect.

He needed only stand there briefly before he decided he had felt enough. How anyone but a frost giant could live this far north was a mystery to him, and he turned to go back inside. However, something caught his eye.

He had glanced at the crescent moon, admiring its light for a moment, but he felt something had obscured his vision for a moment. Some winged shape passing by the far light. The thief wondered if he had been seeing things, but knew that such thoughts were generally lies wrapped in plausibility. He knew he saw something, something vast. But waiting in the cold for another minute brought no more answers, and when he realized how frozen he was becoming, he cursed in calishite and strode back inside to his warm bed.

All thoughts of Charynrae had been expelled for the moment, replaced with an unease he would have rather gone without. Oh well, Ibrandul curse it all.

Whatever horrors Faerun was planning to bring him, it could wait until tomorrow.

Cogs in the Wheel: WoT RP

He supposed he should feel fortunate for some clean clothes and food, but it did little to make him feel better. He was not a woman, the bread and cheese would sate him for a moment, but he would need something more substantial if he wanted to be of any use after some rest. Idly, the thief-taker wondered if the One Power could exhaust an Aes Sedai like hard physical labor or a lack of sleep. Despite finding himself in the prime spot to ask, he decided not to poke the bear's flanks. While the sisters sat and discussed, he remained standing, leaning against the back wall and keeping an eye on the doorway.

Eventually, the conversation died down, and Maddy gave Davian a look, before tugging at Zoya's sleeves. Davian could feel her almost tangible amusement from there. "I assume you did not tell him you would be meeting a sister." She said softly. She had guessed correctly, of course. Davian was a man of the world, but one Aes Sedai was enough, much less two. Even if he was beginning to trust Zoya enough to not feel uneasy traveling beside her. Perhaps not enough to see her as the pretty woman he might otherwise think, but still.

"I find men are like mushrooms." Zoya said back, covering her mouth with her hand conspiratorially. "Feed them dung and keep them in the dark."

The two women burst into raucous laughter for a brief moment. Davian wasn't put off, or at least, he could see the humor in it, but there was a sardonic way about his smile that sobered Zoya up. She cleared her throat and smoothed her dress. "I was a bit too worried on other things to give a warning," She admitted to Davian. "And you can trust Maddy as much as I."

"More so." The portly Brown remarked. "I won't take the shoes from under you feet."

Davian grinned, much to Zoya's chagrin, but she chuckled after a moment and sipped her tea, unwilling to concede embarrassment. "That's good," the rakish man said. "I've enough trouble traveling with one pick-pocket."

"Before we continue," Maddy remarked before Zoya could retort, placing a hand on the brunette's leg to forestall any interruption. "I must give you some small warning. There is some small trouble with the Children of the Light." Zoya and Davian perked up, suddenly more attentive. Davian was not someone that would be targeted like an Aes Sedai, but he had seen the Children operate enough to be wary all the same. Tell them you've fished with the Atha'an Miere and a white cloak would claim you a darkfiend. Maddy waved at the two to to calm them. "It's not as you believe, they don't have a big presence here. But they will soon, from what I'm told. They have spies in the streets. One tried to masquerade as a merchant and was swindled of all he had, loudly proclaiming he was of the Children in order to get his clothes back from a disastrous bid. He said soon they would come in force. It was a laugh, but ever since I've noticed men loitering, watching. I would not stay in Godian for longer than the night, if I were you, and keep to yourselves."

"What about you?" Zoya asked, concern on her face. Davian was not sure if Sakura Sedai was poor at hiding her emotions for one of the shawl, or if he was simply able to read her better from their shared time together. Perhaps she was more at ease to be herself around him at this point? Maddy chuckled at her obvious worry.

"I've dealt with far worse than White Cloaks. I'll be fine. I have no doubt you're both slippery as eels, as well, but if they do come in force, best you're gone before that happens."

"Agreed," Davian sighed, opening the curtain of the far window slightly to peer out in the busy street. Peddlars and locals intermingled and went about their day, a stray dog wandered between the bustling carts. Nothing suspicious from what he saw. "Speaking of slippery, is there a place I can find something more to eat before the sun dies?"

Heroes of The Guard: A Warhammer 40K RP

I put on a good face for the men, and truth be told I did have a small bit of mirth for this relatively boring (and safe) assignment. The cold was unbearable, as always, but I knew I would likely spend the majority of my time in the spacious, warm manor. At most I might step down into the utility levels beneath it that housed the power systems and the void shield generator. Even now I could see the phosphorus dome in the midst of this latest snow flurry. I was always both wary and comforted by void shields. Passing through one was a strange experience, feeling like a hot shower of ozone and static electricity, but once you were on the other side, it lifting of morale was almost as tangible as its effects on defense. Void shields were designed to halt kinetic and energy weapons traveling at a certain velocity, displacing the projectile into the immaterium. Sparks told me we didn't even know fully how such devices worked, only they did, which was only slightly discomforting. Fortunately, void shields larger than half a kilometer in radius also provided an insulation effect which would keep the ambient temperature inside the shield warmer than the surrounding environment and be relatively effective at stopping precipitation from getting in. Which meant, even outside the manor, it would go from unbearably frozen to merely frigid.

The heights around us rose like the waves falling off an ancient god, giving an archaic, almost mythic feeling to our surroundings. Before I closed the hatch, I fancied I saw a loping hirstus, one of the four legged wooly herbivores that inhabited many of the iceworlds in this segmentum. While Balor was not technically cold enough to be an iceworld, the temperatures were low enough to still accommodate creatures suited to the tundra and frozen forests of less habitable planets like Valhalla.

We passed through the barrier without incident, beyond a small chill that run up my spine. Luckily my mind was on other things, recalling what I had told the platoon before we had set out. This was likely to be an eventless limbo with the seduction of skating one's duties likely high, but it was better than getting your head blown off. They were still the 2nd Gendermes and they were in the presence of aristocracy, and they needed to keep their boots shined, their lasguns primed, and their hustle doubled timed for any problem. It was a good platitude, along with 'do your best and let the emperor do the rest,' but it had worked on him during the academy, and one thing you can count on with the Imperium. It did a hell of a good job at getting men and women ready and willing to serve and die for something. Hopefully, the latter would not be necessary, especially for a glorified kitchen patrol duty like this.

The Chimera group rolled just to the edge of the estate gardens, having already been pre-briefed there was a designated area for the armor so the treads did not sully the cobblestones. Unfortunately, when our Chimera stopped so I could disembark and direct the armor to the cordoned off area, there was a long, exquisite ground car sitting in wait. I felt I could play stupid, but anyone with any sense knew the car was waiting on myself. A butler in a black suit stood vigilant, seemingly unaffected by the weather, ready to open the door. I had to politely decline, having to say it twice so he might hear me. Even inside the shield, the wind whistled and snaked across the cold.

"Tell the Lady Arsenault I thank her for the offer, and I extend her my sincerest apologies, but I must see to the distribution of my men for her own safety, something I believe is paramount." I explained. If the Butler recited it to the letter, then she would likely be pleased, as well as not take offense. As much as I would love to be in the height of luxury, I could indulge such a vice later on. I needed to stay with my soldiers, lest I lose respect in their eyes. A lieutenant with men that neither loved nor feared them did not last very long, or at least, did not rise the ranks with any speed.

The butler was a good man, merely inclining his head and granting an 'of course' before taking the stylish vehicle back to the estate. What followed was a handful of uncomfortable minutes managing my men as they disembarked, the platoon hustling out and unloading their supplies on the small convoy that had followed in our wake, food stuffs, electronics, munitions, all set in uniform crates. Morek stood in the freeze not feeling a throne damned thing, I realized. Well, he could sit out here all he wanted. It took a good twenty minutes before I was able to find the excuse to walk inside and introduce myself to the lady, and when I did I ordered Sel and EGS1 Spade to join me. I left Morek to help the sergeants, and though Private Harmarck and Corporal Bickers were trustworthy men, they also couldn't keep their mouths shut, so I left them to haul. Pvt Elara...well let's just say I wanted to keep her out of sight from the Lady Arensault, or perhaps vice versa. Either way, I could not trust her presence either. Beyond our constant saving of one another, I knew I could trust Sel completely. Say what you will about Corporal Seldon, but she knows how to button her lip with the best of them.

The face of the estate was wide, with a short, grand stairway that led to polished white pillars framing the stained windows and grand entryway. The manor did not look as baroque as I was expecting, but to my approval it was surprisingly palladian in design. Past the carnodon statues and buttresses of cherubs, it looked surprisingly uniform and pragmatic in both expediency and defense. Speaking of which, I knew there had to be a household guard here as well, I needed to make a good impression on their captain immediately. It wouldn't do to start a fruckus on that arena either, as there was no telling how long we would be stationed here.

With a deep breath, we climbed the stairway to the oaken doors, and before we even reached level ground, they swung open.

"Corporal?" I said to Sel as we ascended, my eyes catching sight of the delectable baroness. Even in the cold, I felt my body heat rise. Even were I not to...indulge, in her advances (and that was a monumental if), I would have to entertain her or face political backlash.

"Sir?"

"Keep an eye on the men as best you can, if I am indisposed." I ordered, and sighed. "I have a feeling matters will demand my attention."

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

Quintus casually laid his heavy blaster on his big shoulder, striding forward and watching the ensuing hijinks with a mild interest. He exuded the philosophy of 'not my problem unless I'm getting paid,' however the Ur-Bot escaping did meet that criteria. He was about to take a shot before Ijin hit it in the leg.

"Noooo, that's not racist. Now callin' him a Clanker on the other hand..."

He noted Silas didn't seem too concerned about Cho, and with that problem more or less solved, Quintus began to whistle as he meandered on over to the Ur Bot. The thing tried to drag itself like a wounded animal, but it was clear it couldn't get far. Meanwhile, Quintus's movements were slow and languid, as if he enjoyed it and didn't much care if there was more of a chase. However, his eyes were locked on the small android. If it made any sudden movements, he would be on it in a flash. "Well, I'm not a veterinarian, but I think your pug needs an oil change, Cho." He placed his boot on the side of the small bot, and tipped it over so it had even less ground to find purchase on. It scrabbled helplessly, and he had to fight the urge to crush it. With one, strong hand, he grabbed it by one of its legs and lifted it up to hold at arm's length.

"Better be something valuable about this guy. If not I can scoop 'em out and use 'em as a money pot."

Scum and Villainy - Plentiful Bounty

Will make a post within 24 hours!

Heroes of The Guard: A Warhammer 40K RP

My eyes snapped to the side when I heard the name Lady Arsenault. Just why the Emperor, in his wisdom, wished for me to fight his strongest battle, I certainly did not know. Sel, though we had grown closer in our relatively brief professional relationship, did not know me well enough to read my look.

I knew as soon as the Major mentioned the Baroness, that I would not only be assigned to her, but I would have to put out all of the stops to not put out in other ways. I also knew I was likely to fail, and thirdly I realize I was both dreading and looking forward to it. Briefly I wondered just how well I could keep her at arm's length, but then my mind fled into Pvt. Elara's supple arms and I was again at a dead end. Of course, none of it showed on my face, and I had no way to object without sounding like an arrogant dog, so I kept my lip buttoned.

"Major, may I ask how far we'll have to travel?" I asked, keeping my tone as neutral as possible. Even then, he gave me a look of disapproval, answering without missing a beat.

"Why, do you have somewhere else you need to be, lieutenant?"

"No sir, I just want to know how much I should pack." I said, hiding my smile. "I'm also concerned on the length of the insurgent's reach. If it's close by, I should keep both eyes open."

Major Sour peeled the bottom layer of the next page, giving it a quick glance before dropping the papers entirely. "You can keep one eye open. It's three hundred kloms outside of the city. You and your platoon should have adequate room, and I am told it is situated on heights that give you a good layout of the surrounding terrain." He said, his usual demeanor evaporating when speaking on tactics. Anyone could see he was a fine officer, just too stubborn to do what it took to rise above his station. A mistake I would not make, if I could help it. "You and the 2nd will be transported via Chimera at 0700 tomorrow morning. You are to stay inside until you arrive at the destination. Since your pretty face is on every holovid, not only will the insurgents recognize you, but any damned nobody could call you out."

"Yes sir," I said.

"Dismissed. Both of you."

Twelve hours later...

In my long years of service, I've learned one important rule. The worst thing about responsibility is being responsible. If every PFC and trooper were to rise at 0500, I was to rise at 0400. Fortunately, I had an aide that could sleep and rise seemingly without much baggage on annoying biological matters like hangovers and lack of stamina. My alarm, though unfortunate, did allow me to appreciate the fresh smell of recaf that Morek had been brewing. Squats had a particular knack for brewing drinks, alcoholic and non. It was also not in his job description to make my recaf, however he made sure to brew me a cup, and I made sure to not notice the amasec (and at time, much stronger drinks) he mixed within his own cup.

Before I knew it, I found myself in the only marginally heated garage, which was merely the lowest level of one of the large, oblong structures the locals utilized to work and live in. Morek was with me, dressed in full kit and carrying my own bags as well. Our lead Chimera, usually emblazoned with the KC of our colloquial name, which to my chagrin I found out meant 'Kayden's Conquerors," had been repainted to keep out platoon's identity a secret. However, Morek and I merely needed to follow the smell of fresh paint, and as Morek stepped into the vehicle to place our bags in, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, but I realized it was only Sparks, our enginseer. "I didn't meant to frighten you, sir."

"You did no such thing." I lied, pinching the bridge of my nose to act as if I was merely tired. Well, I suppose I was not acting. "Did you not sleep, Sparks?" The redhead still looked very human. I briefly wondered if she had been granted any mechanical parts as of yet, but thinking of my female troopers anatomies was the last thing I should be musing on. She had her lasgun on her, but her uniform was slightly disheveled, as was her hair now that I looked at her. "Were you sleeping in the chimeras?"

"I was told to inspect them sir, and it got so late, I knew I wouldn't make it back to my bunk in time to get any meaningful rest, so..." Her voice trailed off. She almost fell asleep on the spot, but then her head shot back up again. "They're tip top shape, sir. I can help with whatever else you require, sir."

I looked at her for a long moment, wondering what on Terra I did to earn such loyalty. I shook my head. "What I need from you is to rest, private. Go back in the chimera, sleep for another hour or two. Morek will wake you when it's time."

"But-"

"That's an order," I insisted, but when I placed a hand on her shoulder, she gave me a smile and nodded. As she turned, I recalled back when I first met her and the other women on Kaurava III, in fear of their life and virtues. It came to me then that she might explicitly trust me after I helped them. That was bloody ironic, normally I was the last person to trust with a bunch of women. I shook my head, and went back to prep the chimeras.