GarouMUSH as Roger - Wednesday, October 06, 1999, 10:15 PM
----------------------------------------------------------
Obvious exits:
House Montrose District
house
You pass through a door, into the main floor of the house.
Connery House: Dining Room
A long, narrow room in the "middle" of the ground floor of the house, a window
is set into one of the shorter walls on one end of the room. Two doors pierce
the long walls on the ends opposite the window. In between is a long dining room
table, much used, and ten chairs.
Contents:
Lisa
Lianne
Dakota(#3654PJc)
Bowen
Cindy(#2533PIVc)
Obvious exits:
Yard
+who
Locations Players
OOC Lounge and Glass Walker Boardroom Adam Cari Circles
Dante Foxtrot X Joseph
Kaz Lysander Nim
Xena
In the CoG Homeland(#2202RFJ) Pepin
Forest South of Kent Crossing Ragesinge
Falcon's Rest(#2599RAJLM) Derrick
By the Waterfall Joanne Seeker
Bawn: Western Forest Ghost Sand
Whispering Pines - Vicki's Apt(#3044RJ) Collin Vicki
The Rialto -- Auditorium(#3319RJ) Signe
Two Eagles Bluff(#3332RJ) Piotr
2970 Concord Street - Apartment 3C(#3335RAFJ) Jenny Rina
Romper Room(#3370RFJ$) Duncan Eamon Kristine
Megan
Big Red Barn Carlos Rusty
Connery House: Dining Room Bowen Cindy Dakota
Lianne Lisa Roger
Sally's Apartment(#3982RJ) Sally Mac
Stage Right(#4027RJL) Cutter Elan
Bowen scratches at his forehead briefly. "Chief, you want to run this show, or
do you want me to?"
You paged the room with 'Would one be expected to just step in? Or knock?'.
Cindy shifts in her seat and looks from face to face, "What is on the agenda for
this evening anyway?"
Dakota pages to the room: Knock please. It's polite.
Dakota glances to Bowen, and shrugs. "How about both? We both bring up
something, and just add comments? What's the first thing you want to address?"
A knocking is heard at the front door, about 5 even and gentle raps.
Connery House: Dining Room
A long, narrow room in the "middle" of the ground floor of the house, a window
is set into one of the shorter walls on one end of the room. Two doors pierce
the long walls on the ends opposite the window. In between is a long dining room
table, much used, and ten chairs.
Contents:
Lisa
Lianne
Dakota(#3654PJc)
Bowen
Cindy(#2533PIVc)
Obvious exits:
Yard
l lisa
When first looking into Lisa's eyes, both the color of heart wood
cherry, a grin, or perhaps a smirk, seems to glimmer there. Lisa's
laughing eyes are framed in an oval shaped face, made of soft curves
with a few sharp edges around her chin. Long trails of chocolate brown
hair spill from her head, flowing straight down until the very base of
her neck, where they begin to curl.
Lisa seems quite strong for someone barely topping five feet, eleven
inches tall, with a lean frame instead of the bulky one associated with
muscularity. Yet, lines of strength run across her arms and back and
legs, outward signs of constant exercise. Most would call it a runner's
frame, but the callouses on her hands show less casual exertions.
Lisa's choice in clothing swings to the practical, almost nondescript. A
pair dun brown hiking boots protect her feet,scuffed from use. Faded
blue-jeans hang from her hips, with phrases and reminders scribbled on
the legs in pen. Her T-shirt du jour, hangs loosely over her, hiding her
figure. A red and black flannel shirt, worn beneath an army surplus
anorak, complete her attire.
l lianne
Standing at 5'2, Lianne is a woman of small stature. Her face is unremarkable,
pale and with the slightest hint of Asian ancestry. Her shoulder length black
hair is tied back in a bun, keeping it out of the way. The woman's age (around
40) shows in her face, faint frown lines creasing her brow and crows feet next
to her eyes. Her clothes are those of a wealthy woman, designer by the look of
them and resemble a dark blue business suit more then anything else.
A dark wooden cane with a silver handgrip and base, is held in Lianne's left
hand. She uses this cane to steady herself when she walks, as she suffers from a
slight limp. Despite the limp and cane, Lianne's hazel eyes reflect a bone deep
stubbornness and her posture is that of one who is used to getting their own
way.
l dakota
Dakota Jackson is a tall woman, standing close to 5'10. She possesses a muscular
build, making her a bit more intimidating than should be. Near-golden eyes,
flect with bits of green, peer about with a sense of restlessness underneath a
seemingly calm stare. Her right hand possesses scarring, which seems more like
burn scaring than anything else. On her head, is a red bandana, the drapings
allowed long, to fall to the middle of her back from the tie at the nape of her
neck. No hair seems to peek out from the wrapping.
She wears an interesting outfit, of a pinstriped suit. No blouse seems to be
worn underneath. Oftentimes a black fedora is perched on her head, giving her
the look of a nineteen-forty's gangster. Luckily, she's missing the Tommy Gun.
???
Long tangles of bleached-white hair frame the tall, lean-muscled man's tanned
and sharp-featured face. A neat goatee, bleached to match his hair and brows,
graces his chin, and only the most infrequent glimpse can be caught of his
steel-grey eyes underneath a pair of omnipresent, high-quality black plastic
shades. He wears black BDU pants belted with a thick, stiff loop of black
leather and tucked into a pair of polished forest-weight combat boots; a black
t-shirt with barely-legible scrawl detailing tour dates for some garage metal
band; a navy-and-gray plaid flannel shirt unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up
to his elbows; and a long, heavyweight black leather leather trench coat over it
all.
Cindy(#2533PIVc)
This young woman appears to be in her mid to late teens. She stands at
about five and a half feet and has a light complexion. Though her frame
is developed, she is fairly underweight for someone her height. Her hair
is cut short and is dark brown in color and her eyes are an equally
colored brown.
Currently she is wearing a pair of sweats. Thin, black sweat pants are
worn on her legs. The pants are a fairly lose fit, but are not overly
baggy. A hooded black sweatshirt is worn on her upper body, worn with an
equal fitting as the pants. On her feet she wears black running shoes.
Information for Cindy (Alias 'Cyn'):
Cindy is connected.
Location: Connery House: Dining Room
Other Name(s): Not Set
Race: Garou Sex: female
Breed: Homid Auspice: Philodox
Tribe: Glass Walker Rank: 0 (Cub)
Pack: None yet Sept: None yet
Position: Lost cub, young at heart.
Bowen's eyes go to the door, and his hand fishes through the pile of gear on the
floor next to him; he comes up with the collapsed metal baton, which he merely
begins twirling, dexterously, between his fingers like a drummer might a
drumstick. "I say we instate a rule. Anybody who blows off a meeting without a
good excuse owes everyone who did show a hundred bucks."
Cindy immediately grins towards Bowen, "I think that's perfectly reasonable."
The cub winks towards him before peering towards the door, "I wonder who that
is."
Since Bowen's got the defense, she looks to the door, "Who is it?" She then
looks to Bowen, "I'm in a mind to do something like that. I'm getting tired of
having a tardy tribe, and talking to the walls."
Roger sighs as he opens the door and lets himself in, seeing that noone seems to
want to do it for him. "Apologies around to all for my lateness... First time
I've been invited to a meeting." he offers in greetings.
Lisa pulls an orange from the fridge. "Damn. This one's fuzzy," she says,
deadpan. "No, wait, that's not mold. It's hair. Must be the testosterone in the
air." She puts the fruit back in the fridge and finishes with the groceries.
Information for Lisa:
Lisa is connected.
Email address: vuk6@erols.com
Location: Connery House: Dining Room
Other Name(s): Bullet-to-the-Knees.
Race: Garou Sex: Female
Breed: Homid Auspice: Ragabash
Tribe: Glass Walkers Rank: 1 (Cliath)
Pack: Not Set Sept: Sept of the Awakening.
Position: Head Sneak for the Walkers. "Be seeing you."
Bowen drops the baton back into his pile of gear when the newcomer is revealed,
but at Lisa's comment, his expression darkens. "You know, I wanted to keep this
informal, but if you'd rather I can run it like a squad staff meeting. Either
way, you're way the fuck out of line, and if you don't have anything productive
to say, then shut your piehole."
Information for Bowen (Alias 'Tempest'):
Bowen is connected.
Location: Connery House: Dining Room
Other Name(s): Ross Bowen. Tempest.
Race: Garou Sex: Male
Breed: Homid Auspice: Ragabash
Tribe: Glass Walkers Rank: 2 (Fostern)
Pack: Not Set Sept: Not Set
Position: Not Set
Dakota lifts a hand at Bowen's reprimand, "Lisa's just like this. I just blame
it on her moon. She's got some good ideas." She looks to Roger, and says, in a
low voice, "Nice of you to join us. Have a seat."
Cindy purses her lips at Bowen's comment and the cub hushes quickly, seeming as
if it was her who was spoken to. She raises her chin up and looks towards
Dakota.
Roger eyes Bowen somewhat wearily until he drops the defensive. Then again he
tenses as Dakota puts a spot of attention upon him. Looking from Dakota, to a
free seat... he seems to make his mind up about something then take the offered
seat. "Thank you... I don't believe I've been introduced to everyone here?"
Lisa pulls a pen from her anorak and writes something on the grocery recipt
before folding it and placing it in a white envelope attached to the
refrigerator with a magnet. She turns around, rests against the counter, and
removes a small notebook from her other pocket. Flipping it open to a blank
page, she writes something down and waits.
Rina comes in from outside.
Rina has arrived.
Information for Rina:
Rina is connected.
Email address: rina@byte-me.org (IC email!!!)
WWW Page: http://www.byte-me.org/~rina
Location: Connery House: Dining Room
Other Name(s): Not Set
Race: Human Sex: female
Position: SCCU junior... maybe. Music and Fine Arts major.
Info: True to her ancestry, Rina Vencenzo seems to have an instinct
for the streets. Since her arrival at SCCU in the fall of 1996, she's become one
of the city's most well-connected students--at least, well-connected to the
street. Though not directly involved in gang warfare or drugs, she keeps herself
informed; she's well-known both on the south side, and around SCCU. Students
might know her face from classes, or from 1997's disastrous Macbeth. In the
slums and on the club scene, she's known by the nickname "Angel"; on the web,
her sparse site has links to electronic music resources and the EFF.
"Twelve arrests before your sweet sixteen... that's a little young for a girl to
be in that much trouble, isn't it?"
"I've always considered myself to be a feminist pioneer."
--Replacement Killers, written by Ken Sanzel
l rina
Dark-brown eyes, touched with hazel and amber, look out from a pixie-sharp face.
Rina's skin is fair, but not quite pale--a light Mediterranean olive from
generations of pure Italian ancestry. Black-dyed hair, showing hints of dark
brown at the roots, frames her features in a butch cut straight from anime: long
enough to send spikes down into her eyes, tapering to jagged shortness at sides
and back. Her chin is delicately-boned, her mouth small, the line of her jaw
well-defined: an Italian beauty, a Michelangelo's muse turned modern. She can't
be more than twenty, but a certain hard cynicism shows in her expressions.
Despite her petite, un-curvy build, she carries herself with confidence and lean
athletic grace.
Several tattoos stand out against her light skin: black strands of barbed wire,
encircling her neck and wrists. A faint scar line traces across her throat,
slightly off-center.
Loose carpenter's jeans of faded blue denim hang low-slung from her hips,
falling over the tops of well-beaten black Doc boots. A snug t-shirt of heather-
grey stretch knit hugs the curves of her upper body, its cap sleeves showing off
the well-defined muscles of her arms; a small loop of blue ribbon is painted
just below the V of the shirt's neck, similar to the red-ribbon symbol for AIDS
awareness.
A traditional biker jacket in black leather, at least two sizes too big, drapes
over her. On the right shoulder, at both front and back, electrical tape patches
what must be a hole in the leather.
Rik comes in from outside.
Rik has arrived.
Rik will knock as neccessary.
Rina knocks tentatively on the front door, then tries it.
l rik
Six foot two, eyes of blue. Short dark hair, and chiseled features, contrasting
with his dirty boots, jeans and flannel shirt. He is very attractive, in a
brutal way. The way you wish evil was attractive, so you could recognise it and
avoid it. He radiates bad vibes, and this makes people who are 'easily upset'
feel uncomfortable standing next to him. That and the fact that he has the nasty
habit of ripping off the heads of people standing next to him. You can see a
shoulder holster leering out from under a battered leather jacket.
Lately he's taken to wearing JJ's old jacket and shades.
Carrying:
Basket
Blade
Information for Rik (Alias 'Cujo'):
Rik is connected.
Location: Connery House: Dining Room
Other Name(s): Cujo, Rik FlashHeart, MISTER FlashHeart to you buddy
Race: Garou Sex: male
Breed: Homid Auspice: Ahroun
Tribe: Glass Walkers Rank: 1 (Cliath)
Pack: Vengeance Sept: Not Set
Position: Former Tribal Elder, currently isolationist and cranky hermit.
"Party's just starting." Cindy mumbles softly. She turns on her seat to glance
at the newcomers before settling her eyes on Roger.
Roger reaches a hand inside his jacket as he turns his head to look at the door,
confused... thinking he would be the only one late.
Again, Bowen fishes the collapsed metal baton out of the pile of gear on the
floor next to him, and watches the door.
Dakota, figuring that's any stranglers, just pinches her nose, and offers, "Come
on in."
Locations Players
OOC Lounge and Glass Walker Boardroom Adam Circles Foxtrot X
Joanne Joseph Kaz
Nim Xena
In the CoG Homeland(#2202RFJ) Dante Derrick Pepin
Forest South of Kent Crossing Ragesinge
Bawn: Western Forest Ghost
Whispering Pines - Vicki's Apt(#3044RJ) Collin Vicki
Two Eagles Bluff(#3332RJ) Piotr
2970 Concord Street - Apartment 3C(#3335RAFJ) Cari Jenny
Romper Room(#3370RFJ$) Brian Duncan Eric
Kristine Megan
Big Red Barn Carlos Rusty
Connery House: Dining Room Bowen Cindy Dakota
Lianne Lisa Rik
Rina Roger
3923 Regan Avenue(#3923RFJ) Cutter
Stage Right(#4027RJL) Elan Signe
Information for Lisa:
Lisa is connected.
Email address: vuk6@erols.com
Location: Connery House: Dining Room
Other Name(s): Bullet-to-the-Knees.
Race: Garou Sex: Female
Breed: Homid Auspice: Ragabash
Tribe: Glass Walkers Rank: 1 (Cliath)
Pack: Not Set Sept: Sept of the Awakening.
Position: Head Sneak for the Walkers. "Be seeing you."
Rina slips through the door, eyes narrowed; she lets in the man behind her, as
well. She waits until the door closes before shrugging out of the leather Ducati
jacket she wears--and for good reason, given the shoulder rig she wears beneath
the riding leathers. "Buona sera, amici," she murmurs, sparing Dakota a tight
smile.
+detail lianne's cane
A dark piece of wood, straight and blemished only with the scratches of use. The
cane's handle is silver as is the base and is designed to fit the hand
comfortably. Looking carefully at the handle, you see that it may have once held
the design of a beasts head, but the image as since been worn away by years off
use and is only now recognizable as and animal head of some sort.
Rik follows in behind Rina and makes a face. "I can never find this damn place,"
he mutters, looking around the room dourly.
Roger quickly glances between those entering and those already within, a slight
of anxiety peering out through his eyes. His hand has been removed from his
jacket but is tensing violently where it is gripping his chair.
Dakota doesn't even flinch at whatever look Rina's giving her, but she nods and
gives both entrants a nod, and responds to Rik, "It's why I like it."
Once again, Bowen allows the baton to tumble from his fingers. He replaces it
with a cigarette dug from a pocket, and lights up. "So," he mumbles around the
filter. "Hundred bucks?" The question seems directed towards Dakota.
The youngest walker casts a glance between those around. "If the tension was any
thicker..." Cindy mumbles, "...I could cut it with my witty remarks."
Dakota pauses, "First time offense." The Galliard leans back, and offers to
Bowen, "Fifty."
Lisa manages a half smile as she hears Cindy. She scribbles something down in
the notebook.
Cindy glances towards Dakota, "Fifty dollars or spend a half hour's time
listening to me sing Beatles covers. I can't think of a more punishable
torture."
Roger visibly relaxes as the newly arrived are obviously supposed to be here.
"Hell... make it twentyfive and I'll pay up too." he directs at Bowen.
Rina laughs quietly, flashing the girl a rakish, asymmetrical smile. Then her
attention turns to the negotiation. Her forehead furrows a little as she watches
them, and one brow quirks upward. "/Well/. *Someone's* in the doghouse."
Bowen lifts one shoulder in a careless shrug. "Fifty's good." He focuses on the
newcomers. "Rule is simple. From here on out, you miss a meeting without a good
excuse, you owe everyone who did show fifty bucks, as compensation for their
wasted time."
Rina's expression brightens. "Oh. Cool. Good call."
From afar, to the room, Lisa apologizes to everyone for the brief appearance but
Lisa's player has to hack up the remains of a sinus cold before trying to grab
five hours of Dimetapp induced sleep. "Is anyone logging this?"
From afar, to the room, Bowen will retrolog if no one else does.
Dakota's bottom lip is pulled into her mouth and she bites before coughing.
"Alright, everyone have a seat." She pauses, "I gather you're all wondering what
we're talking about. It has to do with either everyone's average tardiness or
truancy." She nods to Bowen, "For as long as I've been here, I've been
attempting to orchistrate a regular meeting basis." She looks to Lisa, "Lisa, is
generally exempt from this. I live with her, she tells me right there when she's
going to be late, or not going to show. For everyone else, I have a cell phone,
I have a pager. Voicemail, email, snail mail, answering machine. Bowen has the
same things. Like I said, Lisa lives with me, so she's in the ball as well.
There is absolutely no reason what so ever to be late, or absent, without
reason. Is that final?" Her voice carries a sudden edge.
From afar, to the room, Dakota's logging, Lis.
Rik grunts as he pulls out a chair.. "You'll take it out in trade, I assume.
Landscaping and childcare?" He might be joking.
Roger looks to Rik with a sudden sharpness in the slant of his eyes, as if he
recognized something in Rik and couldn't place it. "There is some kind of
officalness here... right?" he asks to noone in general.
"Greenbacks and ammo," Bowen mutters by way of reply. "If anyone can't afford a
cellphone or pager, you should be fucking embarassed about it. But out of the
kindness of my heart, I'll spring for one for you. Anyone?"
From afar, to the room, Lisa says, "Cool. When a clean version becomes generally
avalible, let me know. Take care and don't kill anyone. Yeah, it may be fun but
I always end up cutting up the bodies and putting them in the box cutting
machine. See ya."
Dakota's eyes move to Roger, "You'll be addressed once this top bit is taken
care of." Dakota turns around to face the rest to hear comments.
Rina offers that small, slightly cynical smile again. She doesn't sit down--
preferring to toss her jacket by the wall and lean against it. The Italian girl
surveys the room with dark, sharp-focused eyes, scanning the less familiar
faces.
Rik eyes Bowen for a long moment.
Roger fingers a pager on his belt and pops a small cellphone from his jacket
pocket in a quiet answer, quickly returning them, not really caring if any point
had been made.
Cindy looks between the group, silent for once this evening. She draws a
cellular phone from her sweater pocket, a phone looking similar to Bowen's.
Lisa has disconnected.
Lianne reaches into a pocket, pulling out a pager and then replacing it. A cell
phone apears and disapears from a vest pocket, a few seconds later.
Dakota nods with each showing of a pager, or a cellphone. "I will also shell out
funds for the equipment if needed." She glances around, "Are we in agreement
then?"
Bowen exhales a lungful of smoke, signalling assent with silence.
Rina leans back against her adopted bit of wall, offering only a faint nod in
answer.
Lianne nods silently.
Cindy clears her throat and leaves her cellphone on the table. "Agreed." She
murmurs softly. The young cub's gaze drifts drifts between Roger, Rik and Rina.
Offering each a curious inspection.
Roger just slumps into his chair, sighing slightly as he releases tension. A nod
is the only gesture he gives purposly.
Cindy looks away from Rina with a roll of her eyes suddenly. She returns her
gaze to Dakota and clasps her hands on the tabletop.
Rina's smile widens a little, and she glances down.
Dakota nods with that, then straightens. "Second order of business. I don't know
if you've all met our cub, Cindy yet. She's a philodox.." She pauses at the
reaction from Cindy, then at Rina. "Um..do we have a problem?"
Rina pages: App 4, blah blah. Wearing no jacket, and a holster with a .45.
Dakota pages to the room: Ack, Rik...want paged reposes?
You paged Rina with 'Um... thanks? :)'.
Rik pages the room, admiring his lovely lovely lag.
Bowen clears his throat slightly and leans forward in his seat. "Keep going,
Chief," he mutters. He retrieves the collapsed metal baton from his gear pile
yet a third time.
Roger pulls a cigarette from his inner jacket pocket, packs it on the table once
or twice and puts it up to his lips where is suddenly is lit by a small spark of
fire from nowhere and a deep drag.
Rik pages the room: Reposes would be nice. He probably shrugged in there
somewhere. And I'll toss $300 on the table in case this happens again.
Cindy shakes her head slowly towards Dakota, "Problem? Nada." The girl offers a
cubscout's salute before propping her chin in her hand.
Rina glances over to Dakota, noncommittal. She lifts one shoulder in a minute
shrug.
Rik has partially disconnected.
Dakota looks to Bowen, then nods, continueing without waiting for an
explanation. "I'd like it for you to treat her fairly decently. She's a good
kid, and stays out of trouble. She has set teachers, Bowen, Myself, and Brandon
and Salem when they're around. If you'd like to chip in, please address either
me, or Bowen." She shifts again, then looks to Roger. "I'll let Roger here
introduce himself, then I'll speak again."
Roger looks suddenly at Dakota, then smiles with tightened lips before glancing
around. "I am Roger Cohen, Named Howls-When-Dreaming by cockroach, cliath
Galliard, Walker. Once of the Sept of Gaia's Steel in Athens, Georgia... now to
join you here in St. Claire." he then takes another drag from his cigarette.
Rina studies the man quietly as he speaks, dark eyes veiled.
Bowen finishes off his own cigarette and crushes it out in a convenient ashtray.
As he begins to light another, he mutters, "Welcome, FNG."
"Roger's offered Chiminage in monetary form, in the sum of ten grand," Dakota
continues, "Which will go into the trust fund that was set up between JJ Malone,
and Miranda Richardson. The monies have been accepted, therefore he's been
accepted into the tribe. However, to make sure that there'll be no problems with
future members, I'm going to require all new members to be on a time of
probation, at least thirty days. Roger will be subjected to this. For all
intents and purposes, he's a member of this community. However, he will be
watched, his conduct reported every so often, etc. This is to ensure that the
new members won't turn out to be a problem for the tribe. It's easy to put on a
good show as a guest, I don't want to make a mistake of admitting a bogus bug."
She looks to Roger, "Nothing personal."
Dakota adds, "At the end of the probationary period, the person in question will
have their progress reviewed, and if there's any slights, they will be addressed
quickly, sufficiently, and if punishment is needed, that'll be metted out just
as well."
Locations Players
OOC Lounge and Glass Walker Boardroom Adele Circles Guest-of-
Joseph Kaz Nim
Xena
East Elson Commercial Sector and Waterfront Signe Sirocco
In the CoG Homeland(#2202RFJ) Derrick
Forest South of Kent Crossing Ragesinge
Bawn: Western Forest Ghost
Whispering Pines - Vicki's Apt(#3044RJ) Collin Vicki
Temple(#3322RAJL) Cari
2970 Concord Street - Apartment 3C(#3335RAFJ) Jenny
Romper Room(#3370RFJ$) Brian Duncan Eric
Kristine Ravenfeed
Big Red Barn Carlos Rusty
Connery House: Dining Room Bowen Cindy Dakota
Lianne Rik Rina
Roger
3923 Regan Avenue(#3923RFJ) Cutter
Roger nods his head curtly towards Dakota. "It is more then I was expecting...
tenfold. I would expect nothing less from a company who wants to ensure their
employees are... faithful."
Rina nods thoughtfully, glancing to the floor. Her brow furrows a little, and
then she looks up again--this time to study the pale-haired smoker. The girl's
expression remains uncommunicative, shielded, though her eyes narrow slightly.
Cindy shifts in her seat again and lets her gaze trail to Bowen. She sneaks him
a goofy grin before returning her attention to the conversation at hand.
Bowen gives Cindy a furtive wink as he listens to Dakota speak. It doesn't take
him overly long to become aware of Rina's scrutiny, though, and he returns her
stare evenly -- perhaps with unsettling impassivity.
"Any objections?" Dakota asks, "Otherwise we're moving on." She flips a page of
her notebook, Lisa taking various notes on subjects, probably to pass out to
those absent.
Rik seems to have none. He sits quietly, dropped sideways into his chair.
Dakota stands up, and glances around. She closes her eyes, then reopens.
"What...exactly, might I ask...is the state of the City? In reference to the
Power Plant, and other little things like that?"
Roger glances around, then places his head in his hands, elbows resting on the
table and utters a sigh. His head remains cradled for a good 15 seconds before
he relaxes and sits back again. Waiting to see exactly what /is/ the state of
the city he's moved to.
A quiet smile touches Rina's lips, and then she glances toward Dakota. "Usual
hellhole," she comments dryly. "Though I think someone was checkin' out the
Plant recently, no?" She glances around, a trace of curiosity showing in her
expression.
Bowen leans back in his seat. He continues to hold Rina's stare as he speaks.
"I've been up to my waist in this lately." He takes a drag from his cigarette,
and then continues. "According to the intel I've gotten, there's little nests of
bad guys all over town. Apparently the sewers are particularly bad, but most of
the above-ground places have either been hammered or are on somebody's shit
list. Supposedly Barlow's dealing with the Power Plant. Lemme talk a little more
about that."
Cindy remains silent as she listens in on the conversation. Her gaze drifts
between each of the others as they speak.
Cindy pages to the room: Unfortunately, Cindy's player needs sleep. Working
early in the morning 8(
Rina's brows lift slightly, in interest or surprise. She straightens a little,
watching Bowen intently.
Dakota pages to the room: Okay, Cindy, we're logging, so I can send you a copy.
Cindy remains quiet for the rest of the evening if no questions are directed
towards her. She'll sneak grins towards Bowen every now and then.
Dakota leans on the table, as Bowen speaks, obviously not in a rush to shut him
up.
Cindy pages to the room: Take care 8)
Cindy has disconnected.
From afar, to the room, Rina waves, and apologizes for that incredibly lame
pose. People brainstorming in my livingroom. :p
Roger just glances between the gathered a moment before a questioning look
settles back on Bowen's face.
Bowen finally pulls his gaze away from Rina, and rises to walk into the kitchen.
His voice filters after him. "Barlow's apparently been tasked with clearing up a
bunch of fomori that are among the staff at the power plant. After I took care
of the rabid dog problem we had last month, he looked me up and solicited my
assistance. I guess he thought my talents would be useful. So I've been keeping
surveillance on both the plant and some of the help, and he owes me." A pause as
he opens the fridge and fishes out a beer. "Between ten and twenty of the
workers are what a layman would call damn odd. They work all different shifts. I
shadowed one of them, did an on-site recon of his apartment, and I think it's a
pretty safe bet that he's one of our men. I've warned Barlow that trying to take
these targets out the old-fashioned way is probably going to result in a lot of
very badly injured Garou, and recommended that we use explosives off-site rather
than claws on-site. We'll see, I guess, if he's smart enough to listen."
"Notice," Bowen says as he returns to the living room and cracks open his drink,
"that I'm not recommending snipers either. I doubt even high-powered rifle
rounds are going to crack these nuts."
Lianne is quiet and unabtrusive in her corner. A notepad and pencil appear in
her hands and one point, and she buisies herself with jotting down occasional
notes.
Roger clears his throat and waits a moment to see if anyone will object his
contributing. "If this... Barlow you speak of, is an Elder of Gnawers. I expect
foolish pride to be a trait of his... yes, no? I'd be on his back to make sure
any messes he might make, are cleanable. Gnawers are passionate and all, but not
the most effective, no matter how much they would like to make you think so."
"So, your suggesting a subtle route," Dakota asks, then glances to Lianna, "As
long as we don't make a big stink, I'm for it. But do you think explosives are
the way to go?"
Bowen shrugs his shoulders. "If Barlow makes a mess of it, then the consequences
fall on his head, not mine. And he still owes me."
Roger returns the shrug in kind. "Well... if you want explosives, I'm good to go
on their construction, should you need help in that field. Uni-directional
shrapnel fields are my specialty." he offers calmly and almost in a monotone.
Rina raises an eyebrow slightly. "Huh. Odd how? I mean, are we talking people-
eating odd? Bombs in the closet odd? I mean, what makes y'think heavy firepower
won't do the trick?"
Dakota nods a bit. "Right. Okay. Bowen, Keep surveying. See if there's any
weaknesses we can exploit, or what would be the easiest way to take them out.
Keep me updated, when we've got something to work off of," She addressed the
rest. "We'll get together and take some things out." Her eyes go to Rina, then
back to bowen.
Bowen takes a pull from his drink as he sits back down. "The guy I was shadowing
paid a visit to the industrial district. Picked a fight with a bunch of gang-
bangers. Plowed through them -- moved and healed nearly as fast as we do. So,
yeah, I could put a three-oh-eight hollowpoint through the asshole's head from
four-hundred yards, but I'm not confident it'd do more than give him a stiff
neck. Hence, explosives." He glances over to Dakota. "You want to do this on our
own, or assisting Barlow?"
Dakota rubs her chin, then glances up, "As much as I hate to say it, there's
strength in numbers. If these things -are- as tough as your saying, we're going
to need a hefty group to deal with them."
From afar, to the room, Lianne crashes. G'night all.
From afar, to the room, Dakota waves!
Lianne has disconnected.
Rina nods slowly, frowning a little.
Bowen shrugs his shoulders. "I'll talk to Barlow. He seems to think I'm the best
thing since sliced bread. I'll let him know how hard I've worked to convince you
all to help him out, and that this assistance doesn't come free."
Roger again speaks up. "Well... while Barlow is being mentally fucked with...
You want to start preparations now? A precaution so to speak. Or wait till we
know what we want to do... and possibly can't do it?"
Rina lifts her chin slightly. "If you need Kin doing recon on these little head
cases--we might be able to get places you can't." Her voice is hoarse, quiet but
assertive. "At least get better looks at the sites, which you'd need f'the
explosive angle."
Bowen's eyes wander from Roger to Rina, and then finally settle on Dakota. "Up
to you, Chief. I'm not sure tangling with these clowns is the smartest thing for
fragile humans to be doing."
Dakota tilts her head both at Rina and Roger, before looking back at Bowen. She
murmurs, "While any help'd be good, what's the guarantee you won't be killed?"
She pauses, then adds, "But if you want to Rina, I won't stop you. Better to
give you leeway, then you to traipse out on your own."
Rina purses her lips slightly. "Fragile, my /ass/," she mutters, glancing to
Dakota. "We could at least see about gettin' the building plans. No need to
tangle with the Wyrmspawn t'find /that/ out."
Roger loosk to Rina then settles a gaze back on Dakota. "With the plans for the
building... I could theoretically design a small explosives layout that should
cause a complete loss of infrastructure integrity... in other words. Collapse it
completly. I'd need radio recievers... and we'd need someone to plant the
devices."
Dakota sighs, "Keep it nice." She nods to Rina, "Get the plans." She looks to
Roger, "But what's the guarantee they can't be killed with direct impact, and
not with a building falling on it?"
"Whoa." Bowen holds up his hands. "We're not talking about blowing up the entire
power plant, FNG. We're talking about a few car bombs. Blowing up the entire
plant is not an option. That's just stupid."
Rina nods to Bowen, a flicker of alarm in her eyes. "We just wanna target the
right people. Know where they work, where they drive, where they sleep."
Dakota looks to Bowen, "I still want the plans." She sits down, "As far as the
targets go, the ones that need to be dead, find out where they haunt. When are
they isolated. It'll best to take them out one at a time." She glances to the
other Fostern, to see his objections.
Bowen shakes his head. "The one I shadowed was one of the most boring man alive.
No hobbies, no habits, daily schedule varying only by minutes. Every assassin's
dream target."
Rina crosses her arms; the dark eyes unfocus, thoughtful. "Well. Serial killers
are often anal like that," she muses softly.
Roger just tilts his head slightly. "Or not. Just mentioning a possibility...
But tonight... I'll get to work on some explosives, standard stuff... shrapnels,
incendiaries, acid bombs... just in case. Just like to be useful. He then looks
to Bowen as he continues. "How many Garou are there for an operation? Gnawer and
Walker combined?"
Dakota chuckles faintly at Rina, then nods at what Bowen says. "Fairly easy, at
least on the outside. However, I still say pop them off one at a time."
Bowen closes his eyes and leans forward, massaging the bridge of his nose with
two fingers. "As far as manpower, I haven't the faintest. I'll ask Barlow how
many people he can count on."
Dakota nods a bit. "Alright. That's the best we can do right now. Everyone
collect a little of something and we'll bash our heads together again." She
drops back in her seat, "I've got at least one more topic to drill into your
heads before I'll permit you to fall asleep on me."
"The night is young," Rina says lightly, flashing a lean little smile at the
woman.
Roger just smiles and nods to Bowen. He then tilts his head and turns to look at
Dakota.
Dakota chews on her pen for a moment, before resting her hand on the table,
"This has to do mainly with the Garou segment of the population. We generally
bite in presence. How often do any of our people go to the Bawn just to stand
there and make people wonder? How many of you show up to the Sept-wide moots?
Hell, how many of you even know what's going on with our Country cousins?" She
shakes her head, "I don't care if you don't like the woods. I don't like the
woods, but that's where the Caern is. If we don't show up, they think we've
fallen off the planet. I want you all to begin actually -visiting- the Bawn, and
when there's a moot, show up there. I don't care if it's boring, and you're
likely just to fall asleep, but we need to remind people that this tribe is
still there."
Locations Players
OOC Lounge and Glass Walker Boardroom Adele Guest-of- Jenny
Joseph Xena
Courtyard of the Knight's Rest Inn(#1021RJ) Dana
Attic Louisa
East Elson Commercial Sector and Waterfront Signe Sirocco
Building B Collin
At the Rock Outcropping Orpheus
Temple(#3322RAJL) Cari
Romper Room(#3370RFJ$) Brian Duncan Eric
Kristine Ravenfeed
Big Red Barn Carlos Rusty
Connery House: Dining Room Bowen Dakota Rik
Rina Roger
Rik frowns tightly but says nothing.
Roger just nods his head in response to this, a confused expression worn openly
upon his face.
Dakota pages to the room: er, here. Whatever.
Bowen shrugs his shoulders. "I've been making the occasional appearance. I'll
keep doing it."
Roger sighs and frowns. "I'll need someone to show me the way."
Dakota waves a finger at Roger,"That'll be remedied." She then looks to Rik, but
doesn't say anything. "Look at us. This is basically what's left. I don't
particularly call this an imposing force. It's no wonder we're being laughed at,
and the Gnawers have become the prominent figures in the City."
Rik quietly, but not quietly enough, murmurs "I'm not /in/ the City."
Rina lifts her chin a fraction. "And it pisses the hell outta me t'see Rangers
comin' into town and giving /my/ family shit. And t'see the Gnawers runnin'
hunts when we got some damn good personnel."
Roger glances around the room as Dakota speaks of looking about. "One last
question about the city. What of... other forces? The reality-benders? Leechs?"
Dakota closes her eyes, for a moment, then opens up, "Rik, if you can give me a
good reason, in private, I'll exempt you from that rule." She looks to Rina,
"It's because we're not a strong force, Rina. that's why we're getting pushed
around. I want to remedy that." She pauses, and frowns to Roger.
Rina glances to Roger; her jaw tightens, and she averts her eyes. "I know of at
least one undead asshole I need to terminate personally," she murmurs. The lines
of her expression harden.
"Know his name?" Bowen asks Rina, his stare now back upon her.
Rina lifts a shoulder, and glances up. "Calls himself the Priest. Tall, skinny
black guy. Used t'hang out at the Temple--'s'a club in the warehouse district.
If he shows his face again there, I'll get rid of him." The mask is back, the
delicate features set in sere determination.
Information for The Priest (Alias 'Priest'):
Last connected on Sun Oct 3 22:59:53 1999.
Location: Temple(#3322RAJL)
Other Name(s): None
Race: Sabbat Sex: Male
Clan: Tzimisce Generation: 12
Position: Local NachtKind, well known in the crowd. (Fame)
Info: A drifter arrived in town in the past year from Seattle, he's
known to be seen at local clubs, especially the Temple, with a group known as
The Court. He seems to have no visible means of support, and lives off 'the
kindness of strangers'. (Application on Cyrano's log page.)
Dakota chews her lip. "Uh huh," is all she says. She just rubs her forehead, not
wanting to get in on this.
Bowen watches Rina for a few moments longer, then offers, "I'll take you to
him."
You paged the room with 'This meeting going to be ajourned anytime before I fall
asleep at the keyboard? :)'.
You paged the room with 'Otherwise, I gotta head off... My eyes are closing
against my will here.'.
From afar, to the room, Bowen is thinking we're nearly done, Roger.
Dakota pages to the room: Yeah, I said what I wanted to say. =)
Rina's eyes light. "You have that?"
Roger just sits back and observes the exchange silently.
Bowen lifts his shoulders in a shrug, and sinks back into his seat. He lifts his
drink to his lips and takes another long pull.
Rik pages the room: I'd offer to adjourn the meeting, but my character's not the
leader type. (:
Rina glances to Dakota, then. "Sorry," she murmurs. "Din't mean t'interrupt."
From afar, to the room, Dakota snaps awake. Huh> Oh yeah.
Dakota waves a hand. "Go home, get some sleep. Thanks for listening." She sits
up, "I'll give you the date when we'll next meet. Please, try to be there, hrm?"
Roger just stands and numbly steps from the building.
You find your way out of the house, out into the enclosed yard.
OOC Lounge and Glass Walker Boardroom
A huge, well-appointed meeting room dominated by a giant mahogany table that's
been polished to a mirror-like shine. Dozens of thick soft leather chairs
surround the table for players and wizards alike to debate various aspects of
The Company. Each seat has a high-speed Internet link, two cell phones and a
personalized coffee mug.
To the side are munchies for the meeting; cookies, chips, salsa and Bean Dip.
Huge urns of coffee and tea stand like oil refinery towers against the tinted
windows that look out over the city. Far below, the people employed by The
Company go about their lives, unaware of their masters' true nature.
This room is intended as a place for OOC and other meta-conversation about the
game and as a place for new characters to be introduced to it; if you're not
feeling hospitable toward new players or guests, it's suggested that you not
hang out here, as they're likely to pop up at random.
To get back to the IC part of the game, type '+ic'.
Contents:
Guest-of-Owl
Guest-of-Bear
Dinotime Object(#3170IV$)
Sample Werewolf(#3182Vs)
Megan's Unpacked Garou Code(#359V$)
Example Code Object(#2961Vs$)
Roger waves.
You say "Hey there Guests."
You are looking at a Guest from [HSTNB110-13.splitrock.net]. Please be kind.
You are looking at a Guest from [crickel-1.student.umr.edu]. Please be kind.
Locations Players
OOC Lounge and Glass Walker Boardroom Guest-of- Guest-of- Roger
Courtyard of the Knight's Rest Inn(#1021RJ) Dana
Building B Collin
Temple(#3322RAJL) Cari
2970 Concord Street - Apartment 3C(#3335RAFJ) Jenny
Romper Room(#3370RFJ$) Brian Duncan Eric
Kristine Megan
Big Red Barn Rusty
Connery House: Dining Room Bowen Dakota Rik
Rina
Guest-of-Bear waves and poofs.
Guest-of-Bear has disconnected.
Guest-of-Owl has disconnected.
Thank you for visiting.
Please return soon.
*********** D I S C O N N E C T E D ***********
Back to log page