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Aard_Rinn

The Blue and Distant Sky

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Time: 9.18 5/12/0384

Location: The Three Hairs, Sixth Ward, Undercity, Norram

Weather: Dry

 

You are sitting in a cantina on the south side of the Sixth Ward. The cantina, the Three Hairs, is quiet at this time of day, and the smells of chicory and woodsmoke cloud the air, wafting in every time the kitchen doors swing open. It's a classy establishment, for the Undercity – real hickory chips to season the meat, hot chicory coffee, and fresh bread from their own ovens to soak up bowls of still-hot meat drippings before heading out to a day's work. Behind the bar, a tall, dark-skinned woman works, laughing and joking with the men working in the kitchen as she takes orders and passes out mugs of the hot, steaming drink to the three men sitting at the bar.

 

The rest of the cantina isn't empty, though it's far from full: half a dozen people or so sit, scattered around the rest of the restaurant. It's still early, but most of the morning crowd has already thinned; now it's only the people who've trickled in hoping for a late breakfast or an early lunch.

 

 

Hey guys! So, this is The Blue and Distant Sky – glad to have you on board! I know this is a bit unglamorous for a first post, but I need to ask you guys for a thing or two... First, in your next post, put a link to your character sheet at the bottom – I'll consolidate them into an OOC thread in a bit. Second, when you post, describe where you are in the room and what you're doing so I have a little more to build off of for the next post! How do you tell where you're sitting in a tavern you haven't seen? Using this map, of course!

 

 

tavern_by_aard_rinn-d7o80md.jpg?1

 

 

For now, just put OOC chatter in spoilers, pls.

 

Also, choose a speaking color and let us know what it is! Thanks!

 

Aard

 

 

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If at any time I run off on a tangent and start to break the game just have fishnjeeps hit me with his stun baton. . . .

 

So I have several scenarios. You can pick which one best fits. I figure this will work better than me asking a question, you replying. repeat . .

 

General descriptor

Jonas is wearing a fitted red t-shirt and slightly too long khaki cargo pants, with fingerless workers gloves on his hands. His short straw colored hair looks like it hasn't seen a comb in months. Although it could just be that he's constantly running a hand through it. His average stature and thin frame mask the toned muscles that control his quick movements. The only outstanding features are the electronic display with an assortment of wires strapped to his left forearm and the steel chain wrapped around his torso like a bandolier. 

 

Scenario 1 (prefered)

Jonas is in the kitchen. He's supposed to be washing the dishes to pay for his meal(s), but he's sure that with a little code rewrite/wiring change he can make the automatic dishwasher twice as efficient. Meanwhile the dirty dishes are stacking up. 

 

Scenario 2 

Jonas is somewhere in the cantina repairing some automated device. 

 

Scenario 3

Jonas is on the bar stool closest to the kitchen hunched over eating bread with a bowl of gravy. He looks as though he expects someone to steal his food as he cradles one arm around the food defensively. 

 

Character sheet

 

 

 

 

*Mutters* If I connect the blue wire to the red and .. . . Did the dude who rote this code program drunk? A six year old could . . . 

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Walking into the bar and taking the single seat by the window to his left, Sim eyed the patrons of this establishment warily. after a minute, he watches the few people outside the window and waits...

 

 

Here's my character sheet

 

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1cSW7WhLb2Wo3jod8U8nCiyNgBtYJ_-uYZ1bpxRqdhfE/edit?usp=sharing

 

I hope this worked, I've never done spoiler tags before

 

 

Thanks Ludo! I learned something new!

 

 

Edited by fishnjeeps
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Sitting at the bar near the wall is a thin-framed Asian woman. Approximately 5' 6'' with shoulder-length brown hair tied into a ponytail which looks disheveled from a day's hard work. She is wearing an off-white, thigh-length coat with black cargo pants. Around her right thigh is a small belt containing various medical tools, such as a scalpel, scissors, needle, etc.

 

Twirling the glass of what they call alcohol, Max is lost in thought. *The surgery was routine. It should have worked even with the lack of supplies. The backup tools should have worked! The procedure was simple. Why did he die? Get it together Max. Think it through, step-by-step again.*

 

--- edit ---


Edited by pcktlnt

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Jonas

 

Jonas is standing in the kitchen, shoulder-deep in dishes. Though the two cooks, burly men going by Shep and Rucard respectively, had been annoyed with his tinkering while the breakfast rush was happening, they seem almost amused by it at this point, watching tolerantly as he fiddles with the wires of their washer. The two men have begun prep work on the day's lunch menu - Shep is cutting peppers into thin, even slices with quick and nimble movements of his knife, while Rucard has begun the process of dismantling several frozen chickens into chunks the right size for frying. Every so often, one of them calls out to Laakiim, the woman tending the bar, and also the woman who's letting you work off your meals... The dark-skinned woman seems friendly enough - she's the owner of the cantina, and she handles the restaurant's customers with a steady hand and a joking smile ever-present on her lips.

As Jonas continues to tinker, Rucard comes over, flipping his knife in his hand with an easy gesture before tossing it into the sink. "So, watchu working on, there, kid?" he asks, leaning on the opposite counter as he begins to strip off his gloves.

 

 

Sim

When Sim enters the cantina, sidling up to the counter, it takes him a minute to get the bartender's attention over the shoulders of the two burly men seated near the register - she's pouring a shot of something for an anxious-looking woman at the far end of the bar. Still, she comes over quickly enough, and the coffee is hot and prompt... He sidles away from the bar to the other end of the room, glancing around one last time before settling in to drink.

 

As Sim sits by the window with his mug of chicory brew, watching people go by, he notices that after a while the street seems to empty. Across the street, he can see a van pull up - cars are unusual in the Undercity, though not unseen, and he can see a man in a dark jacket sitting in it, talking into a radio. Government, possibly, or a gang - security's been increased a lot, since the bombing. Every so often, the man glances around, as if scanning the area for any threats.

 

 

Max

Max sits at the bar, in the chair nearest the wall; she's got a mug full of dark brown ale before her. Though the bartender - what's her name? she ponders briefly before going back to her thoughts - had initially balked at serving alcohol this early in the morning, a good look at the Asian woman's face had silenced her, and she had pulled a bottle of something dark and rich and strong from beneath the counter. Besides her sits a plate of heavy, nutty bread in thick slices and a goodly pile of pulled meat, gravy slathered over the top - the woman had brought it to her unasked and without comment before returning to the two other customers at the bar.

The bartender leaves the woman in silence for a little while, laughing at the men's baudy jokes and calling to the kitchen staff with a grin on her lips. It's only when her other customers take up a fierce debate about the local kickball teams and the kitchen falls silent that she returns to Max, pulling the bottle out from beneath the bar and pouring herself a shot as she tops up the woman's drink.
"So, what's got you down?"

 

 

 

I'll update this with the other two as soon as I find out what you're doing!

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Dex enters the Three Hairs, automatically scanning for familiar or out of place faces.  Seeing no one that has reason that is likely to want to "discuss" any of his past actions with, he finds a seat at the counter and orders a cup of caf and a bowl of the special.

 

He is of average height and build.  His movements and attitude however, hint that if trouble starts, average is not the way that he would handle it.  He is dressed in serviceable dark grey cargo pants, and a open black knee length duster.  His eyes are hidden behind black polarized glasses, making his freshly shaved head look even paler in comparison.

 

If someone looks closely, they might notice several small tattoos on his hands and neck.  They aren't recognizable,  but are similar to those showing gang affiliation.

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Dexter

 

Dexter enters the bar smoothly. The woman at the bar gives him a winsome smile as she hands him a cup of coffee and a plate with a chunk of heavy bread and a pile of pulled meat covered in a thick, slightly sweet barbeque sauce, before turning to her other two patrons to speak. She chats with them for a moment, something about kickball, before turning away to sit with an anxious-looking woman at the other end of the bar. The other two men continue to argue about the sport, gesturing wildly as they quarrel, but they have the air of old friends about them as they do. Neither seems to have so much as noticed Dexter beyond a casual glance...

 

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Max looks up when addressed by the waitress and then down at the mess from the swirling contents then back up again. "Apologies. A patient died. Frank was a good man, always on time, friendly, and had the best meat stand near the clinic. That surgery was routine and there were no signs of complication."

 

The fierce debate between the two men gains Max's attention for a second. "Would be nice if kickball was occupying my thoughts."

 

"I'm Max. Work at the local clinic with Dr. Fisher." She looks for a name tag on the waitress and then looks down at her drink "I shouldn't drink this. How much for the drink?" As she pushes the cup away.

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"Dodgeball, hrmff..." Sim mutters under his breath and shakes his head Slightly. Sim watches the van and it's occupant carefully. He makes sure that his weighted walking stick is nearby. Bad things always happen when vans are around. At least the coffee is good here.

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Without looking up from the machine, Jonas rattles off the changes he's made almost faster than anyone could understand. I've synced the steam jets with the rinse pulse for optimum efficiency, added a washdown phase to flush any chunks down the drain, optimized the detergent spray pattern, and rewired the flux capacitor to get another 0.21 gigawatts out of it which won't hurt it at all. He pauses for a moment. Unless someone shoots it, in which case it will explode . . He shrugs and bolts a cover back on the machine. *Insert famous kickball team name here* really is the best team this year.  They've got *Insert famous player from the team*. He's scored every time he's been up this season. And they've got the twins. Even tough it cost them their top two draft picks this year. And *Insert older famous kickball team name here* is back from the injured list. He's got one of those experimental supports. While its against the rules to set them up for more power that's really not the advantage. It's the auto-gyro. It makes him 15% more accurate overall. Which when you factor in his normal stats he's now 7% more accurate than any player ever. 

 

 

 

I'd like to make a check to see if any of the scanner apps on my cell phone pick up the van outside. Would be looking for the frequencies that their equipment might use. Exa. Their building scanner operates on a know set of frequencies. I have an app set to sound an alarm if it detects those. The radio they are using is registered to a government/ corporation. Their data cnnection is registered to a government/corporation. Things that a techie who gets into things he shouldn't would be wary of.

 

If I am able to and I succeed I'll just say it very matter of factly to nobody in particular. If they aren't somebody I'm wary of I'll just go back into babbling about kickball. 

 

If I can't or I don't succeed I'll just keep rambling about kickball and keep working on putting the dishwasher back together. 

 

 

Edited by Ludo
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Dex takes a slice of bread and piles the meat on it.  He takes a bite, consciously resisting a lifetimes worth of instinct to bolt it down before someone tries to take it from him.  He pay the the dodgeball enthusiasts the  same courtesy of not noticing them.  After consuming his open faced sandwich, he uses the remaining piece of bread to sop up all of the sauce and juice then sits back and enjoys his coffee.

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Max

 

"Oh, sweety, that's a shame. It's always hard to lose someone, isn't it? But I'm sure you did what you could." The woman sits down across from Max, and reaches over the bar to lay a hand on hers. "Don't worry about the drink. It's on me." A pause; there's a faint noise coming from the kitchen, and the bartender glances over before shrugging and returning her attention to Max. "So... you work at Fischer's place? How's he doing? He able to walk yet, or is he still in the chair? We... haven't talked in a good while."

 

 

Sim

 

The man in the van seems to be talking to someone, now; he's leaned back over the seat, but every so often he swings foward to check the street again.

 

 

Jonas

 

Rucard seems to be only half understanding what you're talking about as you explain the modifications you've made to the dishwasher. Still, both of the pair seem to perk up when you mention sports.

 

"The West End Californian's? Really? Wouldn't've picked you as the sort of kid to pick such a stuffty team... Now the Yorkers, they're the team that's going to take this season, mark my word - whether Orian's back on the field or not!" Rucard grins cockily, but Shep takes a swipe at him, buffetting the other man over the head.

 

"You know the Cali's are my team!"

 

Ru spins, cursing, as the knife flails wildly. He turns to the other man, shoving the knife in his face as he swears inventively and loud, and Shep steps back with his hands up in a soothing gesture as he laughs.

 

As Shep tries to calm the other man ("Peace, peace, brother!" "I should stab you in the balls and cut out your eyes, you incoherent prick! I had a knife in my hand!") you hear the first strains of a jaunty techno beat coming from your toolbag. It's one you recognize - the ringtone that means that your police scanner is picking up active signals from somewhere nearby. While not... strictly... illegal, listening devices like this are certainly frowned upon by the Upmarket's security forces...

 

(If you attempt to use the cell phone to listen in, roll me a Technology check to see how much you get. That's 1d20 + Intellegence + Technology)

 

 

Dex

 

Dex's meal is very enjoyable, though perhaps a bit too salty. The cantina is fairly quiet, although he can hear the faint sounds of a man swearing loudly from behind the kitchen doors...

 

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"Thanks. At 380 days sober now. Fisher's doing fine for a man with one leg. He's still waiting for that artificial leg we ordered. Good model, a bit outdated, but will work plenty for a surgeon. We don't even know when the leg is going to arrive." Max scoffs when she says the next sentence. "All thanks to these so called 'freedom fighters'. Supplies for the clinic is slow coming. Our recent packages were refurbished devices and recovered medicine from the recently deceased." She shakes her head at the current state of Undercity.

Edited by pcktlnt

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Technology roll

13+3+2=18 

 

 

 

Jonas places the dishwasher between himself and the arguing men. A kickball fan with a knife is not someone to provoke. 

 

As the small tone goes off on his phone, Jonas swipes up the text readout of of the scanner app.

 

Yorkies drool! 

 

Jonas ducks back behind the machine as he checks the scanner status.

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