Oldrac's RPG: Official Actions

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Re: Oldrac's RPG: Official Actions

Postby LordRetard » Tue May 05, 2009 1:59 am

"One of our men got a little cut up by accident," says John. "You should go downstairs; it's not safe here."
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Re: Oldrac's RPG: Official Actions

Postby Oldrac the Chitinous » Tue May 12, 2009 1:53 am

Before the big man has finished speaking, the little girl rushes past him, ducking under his reach. She runs along the trail of blood in the direction of Yorba's corpse. For a seven-year-old, she's a good runner.

Downstairs, the mug in the kitchen responds with a left hook from that catches Jimmy in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him, and putting him just far enough away that his next swing falls short of his assailant.
Police said they spent some time working out if they could charge the man with being armed with a weapon, as technically he was armed with part of a fish.
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Re: Oldrac's RPG: Official Actions

Postby LordRetard » Sun May 17, 2009 3:13 am

That's a shame, thinks John. No time to get that fucking purse if she runs downstairs. Disgruntled, John gets on the back of the truck and yells to the driver, "step on it, why don't you! We're in a hurry!"
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Re: Oldrac's RPG: Official Actions

Postby Sevans » Tue Jun 02, 2009 6:40 pm

The trucks wheels squeeled as it peeled off down the road.
I'm setting my clock for EDT until this forum-battle is over.

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Re: Oldrac's RPG: Official Actions

Postby Oldrac the Chitinous » Sat Oct 10, 2009 12:46 am

The woman in the back of the truck is holding a little blue rosary up to her forehead and whispering some inaudible prayer. The boy looks plaintively from her to the big man across from him and back with his one good eye, but doesn't have any strength left to cry.

The bartender says, "Certainly, patrón," and pours Mr. Phentermine's whiskey, looking past his customer at the door to the kitchen the whole time. He has just replaced the bottle when a vagrant clutching a frying pan stumbles backwards out of that door, followed by a man in a cheap brown suit who is holding another pan by his ear like a cudgel.
Police said they spent some time working out if they could charge the man with being armed with a weapon, as technically he was armed with part of a fish.
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Re: Oldrac's RPG: Official Actions

Postby Oldrac the Chitinous » Mon Oct 12, 2009 4:05 am

The tough freezes for a moment and looks around the room of the club, where maybe a dozen people are staring back at him. He freezes just long enough for Jimmy's steel griddle to make contact with his chin, freeing a good handful of teeth from where they'd been anchored.

The miles are flying past, and the truck is easily halfway to the hospital already. It's not clear how it's happening - the truck isn't going any faster than it's gone before - but it looks like the poor kid in the back might have a shot after all.
The poor kid in the back coughs once, and his breathing starts to quicken. A few drops of blood land on the bed of the truck.
Police said they spent some time working out if they could charge the man with being armed with a weapon, as technically he was armed with part of a fish.
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Re: Oldrac's RPG: Official Actions

Postby Oldrac the Chitinous » Thu Oct 15, 2009 11:50 pm

The truck is in the city proper now, rushing past restaurants and banks and law offices toward the hospital. The boy is whimpering softly, and the color has drained away from his skin, and his mother is whispering like the speed of the truck depended on the speed of her prayers. The truck rounds a corner onto High St., and the boy slides across the bed of the truck as it turns, leaving a bloody track as he goes, until he comes to rest against the tailgate. Tiny crimson bubbles form at his lips. His mother crawls to where he lays, holds his limp body to her breast, and both are silent.

Jimmy's assailant spits a glob of blood onto the floor and turns around unsteadily. He finds the door to the kitchen with his left hand, pulls himself through, and dashes away the way he came as two pairs of black Oxfords start down the staircase to the lounge.
Inside the Oxfords are two tall gentlemen in black uniforms that announce that their wearers hold the authority of the Kansas City Police Department. The one in the lead is the bigger of the two men, and he has a birthmark over his left eye and a black moustache with four or five white hairs. The one behind him is thin, blond-headed and freckled.
The blond policeman stops a few steps from the bottom and inhales audibly as he looks around the room. He chews on his lip for a couple seconds, then addresses the other cop.
"Damn, Rug, but that's a lot of people."
Police said they spent some time working out if they could charge the man with being armed with a weapon, as technically he was armed with part of a fish.
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Re: Oldrac's RPG: Official Actions

Postby dinnsdale » Fri Oct 16, 2009 3:08 am

Jimmy heaves a sigh of relief as the mug takes off. He turns around to see a couple of coppers comin' down the stairs and, feeling especially brave, decides to run after the guy what hit him.
Three men walk into a bar. The third man ducks.
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Re: Oldrac's RPG: Official Actions

Postby Oldrac the Chitinous » Mon Oct 19, 2009 3:12 am

Holy Calvary Hospital is a plain three-story concrete building close to the Kansas border enclosed in a wrought-iron fence. There's a colored boy of maybe sixteen years in a white orderly's uniform at the main entrance who runs inside when the yellow truck approaches. He comes back out momentarily, and he's followed by two nurses carrying a stretcher. The one in front hands her end to the orderly, unlatches the tailgate, and lifts herself to where the woman is holding her child. She puts a finger to the child's neck, looks at the other nurse, and shakes her head. Then she looks at John Warren. He doesn't move. So she lifts the boy from his mother's arms and delicately lets herself off of the truck, and lays the child on the stretcher. The orderly looks up at the child's mother and says softly, "I'm real sorry, miss. Real sorry." Then he and the nurse at the opposite end of the stretcher begin to carry their charge back to the open doors of the hospital. When they're inside, the nurse that stayed behind speaks for the first time.
"Are you hurt, Miss?"
The woman shakes her head.
"Well, if you'll come with me, there are a few questions I need to ask you."

The big cop looks around the room and makes a quiet clicking noise with his tongue. To no one in particular he says, "How'd we get here first?" and then, to his partner, "Yeah, there's folks here. There ain't a lot of folks. You get to clear 'em out." Then he makes his way to the bar as the blond policeman inhales deeply and plods over toward the group of men still gathered around the air conditioner. When he gets to where William is sitting, he clears his throat noisily.
"I beg your pardon, Mister Phentermine. I didn't recognize you at first. I'm Detective-Lieutenant Cross. Have you been here long?"

Jimmy takes off after the bleeding thug, but it still hurts to breathe. The man had landed a good hit. By the time Jimmy's reached the back exit, he's halfway to the parking lot when a second black patrol car pulls into the lot from the highway. So he turns around again and makes a run for the river.
The cops haven't seen Jimmy yet, but that's not likely to last long. He's about to duck back inside when he notices a row of strange glyphs scratched onto the wall with charcoal. In Beggarhand, the ancient and secret language of the hobos, they read "Herein there are hidden roads."

The man behind the desk is named Hankel. He's an unremarkable-looking man: brown hair, medium height, forgettable face. In front of him on the desk are four crystal wine glasses, and beyond that is a man who is seated (for lack of a better word) on the liquor cabinet. At any given moment he might appear to have as many as six legs in different positions and varying degrees of transparency, that blink in and out of reality in no obvious order. Hankel is speaking, with just a hint of a New York accent.
"I'm sorry, Julian, but without the carafe, these are just glasses. I'll give you thirty-five, but no more" He pauses a moment, then he says, "oh, hold that thought, I have another yellow job. Interested?" He takes two identical yellow envelopes out of his desk and hands one to Julian.
Inside the envelope are three pictures and a thin strip of paper. The first two are newspaper cuttings showing a young boy, and the third is a young woman with fair hair working in a factory of some sort. There are two typewritten lines on the paper:

H FISHER AND C A LINDBERGH JR $2000 ON DELIVERY
WANTED ALIVE OR NO PAYMENT FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS TO FOLLOW
Police said they spent some time working out if they could charge the man with being armed with a weapon, as technically he was armed with part of a fish.
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Re: Oldrac's RPG: Official Actions

Postby dinnsdale » Mon Oct 19, 2009 3:52 am

Taking a brief look around to make sure there weren't any other mugs afoot, Jimmy makes a quick scan of the wall, looking for the hidden roads.
Three men walk into a bar. The third man ducks.
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Re: Oldrac's RPG: Official Actions

Postby LordRetard » Mon Oct 19, 2009 3:54 am

John Warren peers over the truck-bed to talk to the driver. "So," he says. "You've just been seen delivering a dead kid to a hospital, with me. You think we oughta high-tail it out of here?" He is grinning slightly.
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Re: Oldrac's RPG: Official Actions

Postby dinnsdale » Mon Oct 19, 2009 4:24 am

As Jimmy studies the runes, he traces his finger absent-mindedly over them. A flash of insight hits him like that frying pan to his chest; he takes another look around and decides to make a run for the river. If the hobos were talking about hidden roads, the river was the closest to it, if not the thing itself.
Three men walk into a bar. The third man ducks.
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Re: Oldrac's RPG: Official Actions

Postby Cirtur » Mon Oct 19, 2009 7:07 am

Julian decides that most of what goes on in this mistake of a town, winds up being talked about in the Queen of Spades. He would take the tram there, were it not out of action. It doesn't matter. Julian can travel a lot faster than normal folk on "foot".

He turns the corner and is somewhat repulsed by the scene. Pitted ground, blood and shouting. It takes a moment, but his legs stay still. An old policeman is waiting in front of the door to the nightclub, chewing tobacco. He looks at Julian, frowns, and says nothing.
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Re: Oldrac's RPG: Official Actions

Postby Lethal Interjection » Mon Oct 19, 2009 12:40 pm

Phentermine slowly sips his drink, wondering where the time went, and whether he should have been doing something.

Hearing the detective he spins on his barstool and replies, "Long enough to be part of the news-story, I'm afraid."
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Re: Oldrac's RPG: Official Actions

Postby Oldrac the Chitinous » Sat Oct 24, 2009 3:17 am

Lt. Cross fishes a small notebook and a brass pen out of his uniform jacket. He through a few pages of the notebook, taking time to chuckle at the the contents of a few of them. He eventually finds an empty page, scribbles in the margin until the ink starts, and looks up again. "All right, let's hear it. The short version, if you please."

Jimmy's friend from the kitchen is running west, toward the city. The river, or what's left of it, is running east. It's still fast and deep, and still too wide to swim, but there are several yards of cracked mud where there would ordinarily be rushing water. There are some large pieces of driftwood and various other jetsam in the mud, and a little way downstream there's a ruined canoe wedged between a couple of rocks.
Police said they spent some time working out if they could charge the man with being armed with a weapon, as technically he was armed with part of a fish.
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