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Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.


Ramified Soliloquy

quote:

Fighter level 2

STR 17 (+2) INT 08 (-1)
DEX 12 (+0) WIS 13 (+1)
CON 15 (+1) CHA 09 (+0)

DMG d10
ARMOR 4
HP 25

Alignment
Neutral - Defeat a worthy opponent
Race
Human - Once per battle you may reroll a single damage roll (yours or someone else’s)

Look
Hard eyes, battered helm, scarred skin, built body

Gear
Nail Bat (close, messy, forceful, 2 piercing, 2 weight)
Krakenweave Longcoat (2 armor, 3 weight)
Riot shield (+1 armor, 2 weight)
dungeon rations (5 uses, 1 weight)
Load: 8/14
Coin: 0

Bonds

Behold Pascale owes me her life, whether she admits it or not.

I've gotten a glimpse of Neon=Neon's true self.

I worry about the ability of Jet Magnum to survive in the dungeon.

Seira Blackwell is soft, but I will make her hard like me.

quote:

STARTING MOVES

Bend Bars, Lift Gates
When you use pure strength to destroy an inanimate obstacle,
roll +Str. On a 10+, choose 3. On a 7-9 choose 2.

• It doesn't take a very long time
• Nothing of value is damaged
• It doesn’t make an inordinate amount of noise
• You can fix the thing again without a lot of effort

Armored
You ignore the clumsy tag on armor you wear.

Signature Weapon
Nail Bat (because materia slots are for cowards): Hammer, Close, Sharp, Huge, Sinister

LVL 2: Iron Hide
You gain +1 armor

Shardix fucked around with this message at Dec 22, 2017 around 05:43

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Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.


Ramified Soliloquy
HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 0/9

Ramified Soliloquy was a giant of a man and loading Neon=Neon's luggage onto the deck was quick enough work, despite how much of it there was. As he set down the crate of merchandise, he took a breather and stretched. It was good to finally be at their destination. Sea travel didn't bother him but the eight hundred nether gods and all the deviant diversions they amused themselves with could not make a boat trip interesting. Alas for modern technology, which had rendered naval piracy essentially extinct.

Pulling out his phone, he hesitated as he recalled how to work it. Right. Touch screen. This, this, and bam. All the world's information at his fingertips.

[New file available on Box of Holding: PernabellBayTravelGuide.ppt]

He considered for a moment, sighed, and began the laborious process of finding out what a .ppt was and how you opened it.

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.


Ramified Soliloquy
HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 0/9

"...Thank you." It wasn't that he was annoyed at Neon. He just hated people realizing how ignorant he was when it came to this sort of thing. Especially a classy lady like her. She was probably used to having a secretary at her side who'd have had all the arrangements made before they even finished docking. Limo, hotel reservations, dinner, and entertainment scheduled for every night of the week. Probably a private masseuse on top of it. Oh well. She wasn't complaining about it, so he assumed the young lady was more or less fine with things as they were. It was actually kind of a relief to know she wasn't a prima donna. He was wise enough to know it was rarely a good idea to meet your heroes.

As he mused on this, the half-heard conversation between the ship and the crew that had just boarded percolated slowly through his head. Probably wasn't any of his business, but he was also a business minded man. And getting work was five percent patience and ninety-five percent putting yourself out there and making it known you made problems go away.

He raised his head, cleared his throat, and addressed the AI. So far as he knew, You Won't Believe This Housewife's Top Ten Recipes for Avoiding World War could tell when she was being specifically addressed just by analyzing his vocal inflections and probably numerous other methods he couldn't begin to fathom. She was like a very intimidating aunt who could see right through you. Her being an AI still left him uneasy but he had also been raised to be polite and respectful, especially to ladies. Men were the expendable gender in the tribes, after all.

"Madam. I am very grateful for the smooth trip. Please advise us if you have any need of our services in the future."

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.


Ramified Soliloquy
HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 0/9

Sol noticed the group engaged in conversation with somebody and mosied his way over.

"...Do you think that AI is actually married, or is the name just an affectation?"

He paused, noting the atmosphere and a passing mention of a contract killing.

"Work already?

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 0/9

Sol hauled himself into the back of the truck and settled himself down. Not enough room to cram everybody inside with his bulk eating up a majority of space. In any case, a little water wasn't going to bother him. It would slide right off his gear, and he found the sound of rain drumming on his helmet rather relaxing.

As the truck kicked into gear, he turned and slid open the back window. "I missed most of that. What's the job?" He trailed off as he saw the blade being dragged along by an unseen force. His helmet turned minutely to bring it fully into view. Black spirits? Might be, and him without a worm speaker to bind them to this world where he could strike them down.

He gripped the handle of his weapon in a gloved hand and waited, and watched. He was trained for this at least. Taking in a scene, accumulating and collating the peripheral senses and information and applying them in context to the primary focus. So much could be gleaned by body language, and even the lack thereof. The terrain, the weather, a thousand different details that could give away a clue as to what lay in store.

Sometimes it was easier than this, of course. Like when a woman hefted a frying pan and narrowed her eyes. You didn't need the small details to figure that one out.

Discern Realities: @Shardix: 2d6+1 = (4+2)+1 = 7
What is about to happen?

Shardix fucked around with this message at Jul 10, 2017 around 17:25

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 0/9

Sol hauled himself out of the truck bed and hefted his bat and shield. He watched Jet warily, not trusting the sword one bit. At Neon's words, he nodded to her and Seira and followed after Jet.

"Be on your guard. I smell Crag Wyrm sorcery about this. And if it is indeed a witch, she'll not be pleased to see me. Our tribes bear little love for one another. Zann. Behold. If it is indeed magery and either of you have means to counter it, I'll run interference for you."

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 0/9

"Throw lightning? Depends on how angry they are." He wasn't sure he liked the lich's tone. People got it in their heads that people like him were just a bunch of inbred degenerates baffled by concepts like bathing or math.

...But perhaps there was some merit its suggestion of electromagnets, Sol mused as the stage, woman and cabling came into view.

As she hurled invective and blades towards them, Sol raised his shield and braced himself for the impact. He just had to trust his helmet would polarize properly as the lights speared across the group.

Defy Danger...by Enduring (+Con): @Shardix: 2d6+1 = (4+3)+1 = 8

This woman really didn't sound like any Crag Wyrm he'd ever met. Betsy Fucks was a new one to him.

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 0/9

Muttering, Sol planted the bat into the ground and started wrenching the detritus off his shield. Who attacked people with folding chairs, anyway? Who does that?

Glancing up he saw his ward take one right in the head and collapse. Growling, he finished yanking the impediments off his gear and snatched up his weapon, ready to charge to her aid. He did not expect the vanishing act she pulled next and stood dumfounded. He was only further dumbfounded at the show she began to put on when she reappeared.

What.

...No time to worry about it. Hefting up his shield again, Sol charged forward to back his companions up.

Defy Danger...by Powering Through (+Str): @Shardix: 2d6+2 = (4+3)+1 = 9

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 0/9

Sol hesitated. It seemed Neon knew this woman, and it wasn't the person they'd been hired to kill. Fine, but there was clearly something deeply wrong with her. If the boss lady wanted to try and talk some sense into her he'd let her, but he'd also make sure to step in the way of any dirty tricks. He carefully approached his ward and kept his shield at the ready, but his weapon dipped down so as not to present an imminent threat.

Defending Neon (+Con): @Shardix: 2d6+1 = (2+5)+1 = 8
Hold 1

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 0/9

"Likely both." Sol permitted himself to relax just the tiniest fraction now that the immediate danger seemed to have passed. He turned his helmeted gaze to Siera, and then to the rest of his cohorts. "And we need to proceed under the assumption that they will threaten those hostages. Make no mistake, this is not one of your entertainment vids. This is as real as it gets. There's no room for hesitation if we decide to move in."

He strode over towards Neon and her acquaintance, looking down. "I respect your bravado. But do me the favor of warning me next time you pull a stunt like that. What am I going to tell your fans if you wind up dead for real? Not enough years in my life to handle that many vendettas." He paused to look at Hibiki briefly. "Hmm. I'm envious. Those wounds are going to scar beautifully." There was not a drop of sarcasm or condescension in his voice as he said it - he honestly thought he was giving a compliment.

Back to Neon. "Are we taking her with us? I'd personally advise against it, but she's obviously important to you. I'll keep her safe if you wish."

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 0/9

Soliloquy planted the head of his bat into the ground and leaned on it, watching the scene unfold. After a moment he cocked his head. "Jet. While they handle this, shall we scout ahead on foot? Miss Hibiki here said the hostages were moved down the street. May as well get actual eyes on and see what we can see."

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 0/9

Sol followed after Jet silently, helemt moving back and forth regularly as he scanned for threats. A habit so old he didn't even think about it anymore. As they came to street and the wires crisscrossing ithe silently sighed. These people had some sort of training. Just not especially good training. No doubt the tripwires were more to dissuade and slow down than to actually kill, but it was sloppy work either way.

"...Wankers." He looked over at Jet. "You're slimmer than I am. Take the lead and I'll follow behind a ways - just in case I get hung up. Don't want to catch you in a blast."

Defy Danger...with mental fortitude: @Shardix: 2d6+1 = (6+1)+1 = 8
Army crawling through the trip wires.

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 1/9

Sol finally struggled out from under the web of wires and ducked behind a nearby building. Aside from a few close scrapes on account of being on the large side, everything was going smoothly.

Right up until Jet started screaming her drat fool head off.

Ugh. Hotblooded amateurs. Now everyone in the area knew they were there. The only upside is maybe they'd be stupid enough to charge right out to fight instead of doing the smart thing and digging in with the hostages. He rose to begin stealthing through when something big came screeching through along the ground and the world exploded behind him.

---

Sol opened his eyes. He was in a building, he could tell that much. There was a very large hole in it and the ache in his back strongly suggested that was how he had come to be in the building. Shoving a pile of debris off of himself, he staggered to his feet and tested all his limbs. Everything was still there and in working order. Whatever had happened was annoying but irrelevant. There was still a job to do.

Attempting to sneak out and find the hostages while everyone else creates a distraction.
Defy Danger...by acting fast: @Shardix: 2d6 = (2+4) = 6

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 1/9

Just as he'd managed to get to his feet, he was slammed back into the rubble as someone came plummeting into him from above. Letting go of his shield and weapon, Sol wrapped his arms around the man in crushing bear hug, attempting to subdue him.

Hack & Slash: @Shardix: 2d6+2 = (1+4)+2 = 7
Just trying to subdue the guy rather than deal damage. He'll get an attack off himself, and Sol is at 3 armor since he let go of his shield.

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 23/25 | Armor 3 | Load 8/14 | XP 1/9

Sol gritted his teeth as the blade sank into flesh. It stung for certain, but he doubted it would even qualify as a proper wound. Didn't even hit anything important. Not that he wasn't silently furious about it regardless. He ceased the crushing hold with one arm and reached down, seizing the knife hand in an iron grip and wrenching it upwards. Slowly, slowly, his indomitable strength brought the blade into eyeline of his adversary and began to descend. The helmet turned slightly and a dark voice emanated from within.

"Open your eyes and see your death coming."

Hack & Slash: @Shardix: 2d6+2 = (4+2)+2 = 8
Damage: @Shardix: 1d10 = (9) = 9

He's no berserker, but Ramified Soliloquy does not get on well with being stabbed. This guy's days are probably done but at least he'll get a final retort.

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 23/25 | Armor 3 | Load 8/14 | XP 1/9

Hmph. The least these people could do is cheer at their captors being dealt with.

...Oh, right. Soft hearted 'civilized' folk that panicked when they cut themselves shaving. In a week there'd probably be news articles decrying him and his companions for not talking this out peacefully or some such nonsense.

Tossing the body to the side, Sol got to his feet warily, glancing up to ensure nothing else was about to fall on him. He hefted up his shield and bat and took a few steps towards the crowd, doing his best to appear nonthreatening.

"Please remain calm. The matter is in hand and you'll be escorted to safety shortly. Stay here until we can be assured the area is secure." Sol had his doubts these shrieking monkeys would listen but he had to make the effort. "Do any of you know if a woman was among your captors? She'd have an accent like mine, and tattoos if skin was showing. A magic wielder."

Hibiki had said somebody was handling the weather, and that feeling of crag wyrm sorcery still lingered in his thoughts.

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 23/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 1/9

Sol nodded at the goblin. "Try and recall where you last saw her, and where she might have gone too if my companions have not dealt with her. These people proved well armed but none too wise. They may have spoken out of turn about a rendezvous point."

Turning away, he finally looked up to where Behold had called for a medic. It wasn't his strong suit and he'd been stabbing a man to death so it had been shuffled back as a lesser priority. With things in hand he could refocus. It seemed Seira had beaten him to the punch anyhow.

"Hey. Purple. Orange. Heads up." Once he caught the two lady's attention, he tossed up one of his autoinjectors. "Mix of coagulants and uh...those tiny robot things. Whatever they're called. The bandages are a good call, this will just help seal the deal."

It's a healing potion. Your call if you want to make absolutely sure Cixi is fine, or if one of you wants to hang onto it.

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 23/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 1/9

Behold and a goblin, huh? Well. It took all sorts. It was probably the ears. Sol couldn't deny some of the elven women of the various tribes had caught his eye in the past, due in no small part to the ears.

"Hey, Jet." He nodded to her as mosied over towards Neon. "If you find a machine pistol or an SMG, let me know." He glanced over at Neon. "Don't think Blue is gonna hand over that rifle." Zann likewise got a nod, though a bit slower. It was well and good to enjoy your work, but that ambulatory fountain comment had put a very specific image in his mind. One that made him unsure how mentally healthy the necromancer really was.

Looking over his ward, his fists clenched unconsciously. "Apologies. I didn't expect you and the rest of the team to jump right into things like that or I'd have stayed with you." An awkward moment of silence after his basso rumbling died down. "You uh. Want me to look at that?" He motioned in the vicinity of her nose.

Shardix fucked around with this message at Jul 29, 2017 around 14:35

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 23/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 1/9

A vendetta, huh? Sol permitted himself a slight smile underneath the helmet.

"...Understood." And without warning, Sol grabbed Neon's shoulder with one hand and her nose with the other and made a single quick movement. It no doubt hurt like hell, but he was an old hand at this. Her nose was back where it properly belonged.

"Apologies but I didn't want you to anticipate it coming. People have a tendency to put themselves into a panic when they know pain is about to happen. It'll be ugly and bruised for a few days but it should heal up fine. If not, I understand cosmetic surgery is cheap and easy enough to access." He lowered his hands and took a step back. His eyes flicked over to take in the rifle more fully. Details about firing characteristics and handling quirks rose to his hindbrain. His people did not trust technology as a rule - but firearms were a notable exception to that. They were a practical and martially oriented people first and foremost.

"That's a good weapon. I dislike the idea of you having to use it, but it is better that you be armed than be a victim. If you wish it, I am more than happy to give you instruction on maintenance and proper handling."

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 23/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 1/9

"...I'm impressed. Even among my tribe, I've seen hardened warriors make a much bigger fuss at getting a nose reset. The life of an idol must require a great deal more fortitude than I had assumed."

All that, and she still had the wherewithal to pose for the crowd. Neon was certainly something else. Sol's musing abruptly ceased as the work of Cixi, Hibiki, and his other companions provided some extreme results. He set himself to cover Neon is necessary, and it proved a wise course as the heaven's yawned open and lightning spat across the sky. Sol grabbed his ward and pulled her down, using his bulk to cover her from anything that came their way. After a moment he looked up, saw things had calmed, and let her up.

"Back to work, it seems." He began making his way to Behold. A brief glance at the line, and up to the top of the building. Not a problem. If he fell, it would only be some shattered bones.

Heading on up.

Shardix fucked around with this message at Aug 6, 2017 around 02:29

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 23/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 1/9

Sol's boots hammered up the steps, rapid fire and never losing pace. He stumbled only briefly as an explosion rocked the building. He really needed to find a better class of terrorist to kill. This incompetence was embarrassing for everybody involved.

@Shardix: 2d6+2 = (2+4)+2 = 8
Soliliquy is continuing up to join the fight, but I'll cut it here to see what my troubles are.

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 23/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 1/9

Sol clung to the bannister as the building shook. Nothing immediately collapsed, but there was no telling the degree of invisible structural damage that might have occurred, and he was not remotely in the mood to be careless and fall all the way back down. His ribs were plenty sore enough thank you very much. He spared a glance to Neon in case she needed a hand, though he was also certain that it was a wasted gesture. She was not, after all, some frail little girl who needed his help going up some stairs. After that earlier display he could not rightly hold any such delusions.

Sol is being cautious, and will not be able to immediately attack upon arrival.

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 23/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 1/9

As the bullets and magic hurtled towards the man, Sol charged through and followed up with a massive swing for the fences. He could feel bones cracking under the blow, and permitted himself a tight lipped grin as his foe when flying. As the building groaned he glanced about for something, anything, to hang onto. Nothing within reach.

poo poo.

With no other choice, Sol slammed his weapon into the concrete roof and hoped the spikes would be sturdy enough to keep him in place.

Hack & Slash
@Shardix: 2d6+2 = (1+5)+2 = 8
Damage
@Shardix: 1d10 = (10) = 10
Defy Danger...by powering through
@Shardix: 2d6+2 = (2+5)+2 = 9

Hat guy gets an attack of his own on Sol

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 21/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 1/9

The building finally ceased shifting, finally coming to a rest a severe angle. Glancing around, Sol noted the dead man nearby and grabbed hold of his collar before he could slide away. Gods, what a mess. The only saving grace was that it appeared none of the crew had died, and all of the collateral damage could very easily be blamed on the terrorists.

Hooking the dead man's collar onto one of the spikes of his bat, Sol reached up to his helmet and keyed the radio.

"If any of you saw where that woman went, I'd like to examine the body. I need to make certain of her identity."

He very much hoped his guess about Crag Wyrm sorcery was wrong. Enemy or not, that was no way for someone from the tribes to die. For now, though, it was time to get paid. He hefted Reginald's body onto a shoulder and began the arduous task of getting down without gravity's assistance.

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 1/9

Sol watched impassively as Neon was...herself at the man overseeing the store. It had been quite a day. He was certain he now carried more things in the multitude of bags he carried than he had ever owned in his life. Ah, well. That was part of what being an idol was all about. Conspicuous consumption and being larger than life at all times. Some folks might judge her harshly for it, and perhaps that was fair. She was, even in her fallen state, wealthier than most people could dream of being and she was not especially modest about that fact. What those people did not realize is the unseen problems that attended this sort of lifestyle. Sol had never dared ask, as it wasn't really his place to do so, if she had any lecherous old managers or psychotic fans he needed to deal with on her behalf. He just hoped that if there were, she would trust him to handle it.

As Neon answered her phone, Sol took the opportunity to stop being a voiceless golem and stepped up behind her and leaned down.

"You want those." He pointed at a couple boxes of proprietary ammunition on the back shelf. "The thirty cal ballistic tips." If Neon was going to fight, and actually use that enormous rifle, might as well see to it she was equipped properly for the job. "It's expensive, yes. But hollow points ensure what you hit doesn't get back up. They also have better accuracy and kinetic energy efficiency over long distances. You see, the way the round is..." He stopped himself before he launched into a lecture on bullets and their firing characteristics that she would no doubt find extremely tedious.

"...It's like you. You wear fancy clothes, expensive makeup, glitzy accessories, all of that to shine. That rifle wants the same sort of thing to reach its full potential."

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 1/9

Sol had some minor doubts about visiting a skyscraper after the problems they'd had on that previous job, but he dismissed them. What were the odds this building would explode? Besides, the security ought to prevent that sort of thing. There'd be a team of drider taking shifts in a fortified section of the sub-basement, hooked up to the whole network. Full access to the cameras (several on each floor, plus perimeter cameras covering all street approaches to the building), doors, security golems, phone lines (for calling the fire department, constabulary, or if absolutely necessary - people like the Vulture Capitalists.), and if you took some of the wilder assumptions seriously - anti-aircraft weapons on the roof. And as he understood it, those sorts of gigs paid extremely well and had benefit packages impressive enough that you'd need to be offering a private island with a complementary harem to have a chance of subverting anyone on the inside. Why drider? He was never clear on that. Something about a natural affinity for taking one specific place, knowing it intimately, and ensuring no stupid rear end in a top hat could ever hope to infiltrate it and cause trouble. Plus spider people were just naturally scary. A massive half-noightmare, half-elf in riot gear wielding automatic weapons and flash-bangs, with a reputation for eating people? It tended to give pause.

And how did anybody afford to set up and maintain something on that scale? For one, you didn't see poor people living in them. This was strictly Neon=Neon/Hibiki/similarly rich and well-to-do territory. There was also the fact that it was practically a public secret that most were financed by a dragon, and what the hell else were they going to do with all the wealth they accumulated? Piling gold coins in a cave on a remote mountain didn't earn dividends. And if someone was absolutely stupid enough to start poo poo in a dragon's territory, they were just asking for the world of pain to follow. If someone has to call the penthouse and let Lord Tyranathraxxus know that some ne'er-do-wells were planning to spoil his evening, you got stepped on.

And on top of all of that, the doorman wouldn't let you in unless you lived there or somebody who did called down to okay it. And getting into a fistfight with a troll was not on Sol's to-do list today.

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 2/9

Sol looked down at Neon. Was she flirting with him? It was hard to tell if it was just her playful nature or if she actually meant anything by it. Well. Two could play at that game.

He kept pace next to Neon as they walked to the skyscraper. "Of course. There's a lot of delicate components that require a careful touch. Lubricant will be a necessity to ensure everything moves the way it's supposed to."

It was a good thing he had long legs, because her energy threatened to send her vanishing off ahead if he lollygagged. As they approached the door, Sol gave the guard a nod. As Neon made her request, his eyes scanned both the troll, and the general area. It was public and broad daylight so it would be foolish for somebody to try anything, but it was part of his job to never let his guard down. Nobody would have guessed a band of terrorists would up and kidnap a crowd at a concert either - and look what happened. As the memory came back, he quickly glanced up at the nearby rooftops as well.

Discern Realities:
@Shardix: 2d6+1 = (6+3)+1 = 10
What happened here recently?
What should I be on the lookout for?
What here is not what it appears to be?

Shardix fucked around with this message at Aug 27, 2017 around 23:14

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 2/9

Sol carefully set down the massive cluster of bags and packages, his helmet slowly panning as he tracked Hibiki.

"Good day, mistress. I don't think we had a chance to be properly introduced. Ramified Soliloquy, Lady Neon's bodyguard. My condolences on your injury, but I am glad to see you were not harmed any further." A moment as he considered how to tactfully put his next words. Interacting with high society was not his strong suit. "I beg your pardon if this comes off the wrong way, but I feel obligated to do so. If you are perhaps considering hiring someone like me after the...unfortunate incident the other day, I can get you in touch with many extremely skilled individuals."

Last time he had been home, there had been a few younger folk who would now be reaching their majority and needing some work. No reason he couldn't attempt to network on their behalf.

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 2/9

Sol clasped his hands behind his back and assumed a relaxed posture.

"With respect, madam. I am her bodyguard, not her 'boy'. Regardless. I hail from the Continental Anarchy, of the Swamp Kraken tribe. We are mostly self sufficient, but working among the more...technologically oriented societies has its uses. Advanced weapons and armor are difficult to manufacture without an industrial base, so money is sometimes necessary. So quite often individuals like myself are sent out to work. Often as mercenaries or bodyguards."

He cleared his throat. He generally found that very few people were actually interested in the minutiae of his lifestyle, so he checked himself to avoid rambling.

"Apologies. I am not very good at small talk. I am nevertheless happy to answer any other questions you might have."

Shardix fucked around with this message at Sep 1, 2017 around 00:30

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 2/9

Sol quietly exercised in his room until the sounds of life began to creep through the building. Finishing his calisthenics routine, he grabbed a shower and headed down to the kitchen after throwing on some pants. He caught himself halfway down the stairs and headed back to his room. It was nothing especially fancy, but it was decidedly his. A layer of rugs and furs, with an excess of pillows and blankets for sleeping dominated the majority of the room. A small stack of books, notepads, and pencils he was working through lay on the floor nearby next to a small stereo with headphones plugged in, with a stack of Neon's albums set on top. His gear was neatly arrayed on a low table, next to the closet with his multiple, identical sets of clothes and a spare set of boots. The walls were adorned in tapestries and prayer strips, with the Swamp Kraken war banner dominating everything. It wasn't precisely like home but it was comfortable.

Stepping inside, Sol glanced around before spotting and sweeping up his veil. He'd been in more than his fair share of brutal fights even considering his young age and he bore the scars to prove it. Out of deference for others he wore it to avoid putting people off their breakfast. Heading back down, he bid Jet a pleasant good morning and poured himself a cup of coffee before sitting down to continue his efforts at interpreting draconic poetry. The metaphors were thicker than troll hide and the turns of phrase often left him puzzling for a while before he managed to find their meaning. Amusingly, their meaning mostly appeared to be obscene - it seemed this was a collection of letters from an anonymous wyrm to a princess of some kingdom or another he had been trying to seduce, and he had very specific ideas of what he would like to do with her.

He absently dropped a couple tabs of speed into his coffee and nodded hello to Behold and Cixi as they entered in.

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 2/9

Sol glanced up. "I can imagine why it's an ex. A man who complains is like a woman who hates you. It's all they do."

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 2/9

Sol returned Neon's wave, and looked up from his book once more as Cixi spoke. "One of? Huh. You've my respects, Behold. Met too many folk with ugly opinions regarding polyamory."

He shifted gears now that most of the crew was here. "Do we have plans for today, besides apparently acquiring an espresso machine? That last job was wholly unfulfilling - too many explosions, not enough proper face to face violence."

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 2/9

Sol stood next to Neon, jaw firmly shut. His introduction got no more than a curt turn of the head to look at Behold's acquaintances. He knew of these sorts. Common assumption among the Tribes was that they were all bunch of deviant tech fetishists. Sexbots stuffed in the closet, that sort of thing. Probably unfair to paint them that way, but he was not especially charitable considering everybody always assumed the worst about him. Just because the Tribes sneered at the idea of stuffing microchips into everything you owned, people thought they also had no concept of microwaves or plumbing.

He leaned down to Neon. "Are you allowing for normal meet and greets today?"

Sol just wants to double check if Neon is feeling her normal friendly self, or if he's allowed to break anybody that bothers her for autographs and such.

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 2/9

Sol nodded to Neon. "Of course. I'm a professional. Professionals don't hurt kids." His heart did that weird thing it always did when the boss lady spoke in that way of hers. She somehow made stars and hearts and sparkles an understandable part of her speech. An absence of sound that nevertheless carried its own meanings. Some sort of magic, or just her own incredible talent? Likely a combination of both.

He straightened up and nodded to the group of Arrowists, paying a bit more attention to them now. "I'm game, on one condition. I want one of those helmets. Those are modified MET systems, right? Integrated rebreather/gasmask/respirator with a chemical seal, rated for null atmosphere. Something like that? Tried to buy one a while back, the guy just laughed. One of those and a poncho like shorty there has. In matte black." He cocked his head towards the young lady in white.

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 2/9

Ramified Soliloquy had a dog eared tome of elven poetry by one Serenity Greymist. If anything, it was even more esoteric than the draconic poetry he'd been fumbling through the previous day. That at least had proven much easier to understand once he realized all the mentions of acquiring wealth and power, burning things down, and eating people were not actually metaphors. The Lady Greymist, meanwhile, couched absolutely everything in metaphor, and in the High Elven tongue to boot. And while he had facility with languages, his grasp of the Middle Tongue was strictly functional and he had to use that as a springboard to understand the much more complex High Tongue.

Suffice to say, there was a reason the book was as beaten up and worn as it was. The woman had a marvelous way of turning a phrase but it took all his fortitude to interpret even a couple of lines. So for now, he was delaying the inevitable headache by engaging in shop talk with Hibiki's aide.

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 2/9

Sol glanced over to Seira, shaking his head at the crass joke the troll had just made.

"You say hello, confirm the identity, and depending on your intentions, you do one of the following: ask them how they are, make known your demands, or detonate the explosives while reciting your manifesto."

That was probably a joke, but Sol could be hard to read sometimes.

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 2/9

Sol reached out absently to rest a hand on Neon's shoulder, buffering her against the sudden turbulence as he grabbed a nearby strap to keep his own self from being flung across the deck. As things settled and explanations came in, he watched Behold carefully. An old flame, huh? And from the sound of it, things had not ended entirely peacefully. Hopefully this 'Abby' was not going to complicate matters too much. He did his best to be an understanding person, but if people interfered with his work they usually regretted it.

Disregarding that conversation, he focused his attention on the boss lady.

"Things working out alright? You've been ears deep into that choreography session the whole trip. Either you've hit a speed bump or hit upon something genius that won't get out of your head. And since you haven't punched me yet I'd put money on the latter." Even in the short time they'd been working together, he had a bit of a feel for Neon's moods, and he did his best to be supportive in what ways he could. For an artist, emotional security was no less important than physical. Moreso, in many respects.

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 2/9

Wholly unprofessional behavior, but he wasn't anyone's mother to scold them over it. If this Abby caused them problems in the future that would be a useful lesson to stay on target and keep the goofing around for when they weren't on the job. He could, however, try and steer the conversation in that direction.

"I don't like being a killjoy, but I think we should focus on the job before we concern ourselves with entertainment. We have to earn the money before we can spend it." Sol turned to Hibiki, arms crossed casually. "Miss Hibiki. If you have any further information about this job I would appreciate a heads up. Specs on what exactly it is we're salvaging would be useful. Are there any other teams that might take exception to our involvement?"

Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 2/9

Here was something he was accustomed too. Security checkpoints were old hat, and one of the few areas of high technology he was actually familiar with. Normally he and his gear would be able to bypass a screening due to his own certifications, but facilities like this didn't mess around. If their own security protocols didn't have you whitelisted you didn't get through without a thorough check.

Sol maintained position behind Neon, the duffel bag with their arms, armor and ammunition in one hand while he fiddled with his phone with the other. A short notification to the others that his device was going into security mode before he pocketed it. No incoming transmissions would be accepted from any source except those registered to his comrades. While his device was probably not at risk for hacking, he didn't relish the idea of having to load all those apps onto a new one of it was compromised.

A brief pause as Gunner Javadi finished briefing them and he pulled the phone right back out.

quote:

Recipient: Zann Marat
Sender: Ramified Soliliquy

Decommissioned satellite. Not certain how we'll board, but wish to request: If things become complicated and I am unable, please take Neon under your protection. If this becomes necessary you'll receive 50% of my cut as recompense. Would ask Jet but have concerns regarding unstable temperament.

Shardix fucked around with this message at Oct 4, 2017 around 02:50

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Shardix
Sep 14, 2011

The end! No moral.



HP 25/25 | Armor 4 | Load 8/14 | XP 2/9

Reflexes had overridden thought when the gravity shifted, and Sol had scooped Neon up before he even realized what was happening. It had worked out for the best - his helmet and armor absorbed the impact and she didn't have to worry about her nose getting broken again. He gave Neon a moment to climb off of him before hauling himself back to his feet.

As Javadi lead Zann off, Sol picked up their gear and looked down at Neon. "What's your preference, boss lady?"

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