Forgiveness For the Devil (Start! LSU's Welcome!)

[Doomy_McDoomdoom]

[size=6]Forgiveness for the Devil

Tribute to Cowboy Bebop RPG

In the year 2021, a series of ring-shaped hyperspace gateways were constructed across the solar system, allowing for easy interplanetary travel. Unfortunately, the gate network contained a fatal instability that was ignored by the contractors who built the system. The instability grew until a gateway near Earth exploded, releasing a powerful burst of energy that cracked the Moon. In a disaster referred to as "The Gate Incident", meteoric debris from the Moon destroyed much of Earth's surface, killing billions. People mostly live underground, as debris continues to rain down on the planet daily, although a sizeable number of people refuse to leave or simply can't afford to. Some of those that stayed behind are also hackers who sharpen their skills by training on abandoned communication satellites that still orbit the planet. Most, however, left Earth after the Gate Incident and spread out across the solar system, living in colonies on Venus, Mars, some habitable asteroids, the moons of Saturn and the Galilean moons of Jupiter.

It is interesting to note that the total population for the Solar System of 2071 is only about 1.3 billion. Assuming that the population of Earth in 2021 was greater than 6 billion (as on present-day Earth), the explosion of the gate was the worst disaster to ever befall humankind — at least 4.7 billion lives were lost.

Some of the colonies are more hospitable than others, but all planets and moons seen in the series except for Mars are terraformed. This situation points to the soft sci-fi nature of the series, since Mars is often considered the most easily terraformable planet, while terraforming the others, particularly within the next century is considered an impossible undertaking.

Mars is one example of bustling activity in the Solar System as its many domed impact craters were transformed into thriving metropolitan areas for those who can afford it. With the planet of Venus being terraformed, its aftereffects left many oxygen-providing plants floating around in the atmosphere. The spores of these plants ultimately cause “Venus Sickness” for some people. Not only do poor people live on Venus, but the unlucky that catch this sickness may eventually go blind or even die as a result. Many moons of Jupiter like Callisto, Io, and Ganymede have been terraformed and colonized, though some to more of an extent than others. Rough Callisto is a dreary, hostile, and poverty-ridden cold moon (with the city of Blue Crow having an all male population); Io is toxic, volcanic and an arid ball of sand, while Ganymede is almost completely surrounded by water and known for its fishing industry. Titan, Saturn's largest moon, is a barren desert world which has been at war since the 2060s (Titan War II in 2068 which was survived by veterans such as Vincent Volaju, Gren, and Vicious). There is even a Solar System Penitentiary on Pluto. Lastly, some asteroids have been colonized for their minerals and other natural resources.

Most importantly to the general plot of the series, sometime after the advent of space travel, the bounty system of the Old West was reinstated by the government to help curb growing crime levels. Vigilantes are encouraged to capture bounties and return them (alive and relatively unharmed) to the authorities for a large reward. In addition, ruthless crime syndicates still have much influence in the Solar System, including bribery, murder, extortion, drug dealing, money laundering and other criminal offences. At some point between the present day and the events of Cowboy Bebop, the Woolong was established as a universal currency. Paper money is becoming less frequent as most people carry convenient money cards and rely on digital transfers.

The technology in the world of Cowboy Bebop has undergone advancements to accommodate 21st century life in the Solar System. In order to make travel between hyperspace gates faster and more efficient, a variety of spaceships are used. Most are designed to simply accommodate a single-pod cockpit that can be ejected and navigated independently of the ship itself. The system of operation for a majority of these spaceships is known as the “Machine Operation Navigation of Outer Space,” or simply, “MONO.” Medical advancements such as artificial organs and cryogenic freezing have been mastered and are in full use. Devices called “Alpha Catch” capture images and movies onto a monitor from the brain of a person that it is hooked up to. Virtual reality gaming is the standard and analog hardware such as videocassettes (VHS or beta) is obsolete. Finally, the Internet, once known as the World Wide Web, has evolved into a massive Solar System Web (SSW).

You take the role of someone in this galaxy twenty-five years after the Cowboy Bebop series has taken place. Spike is dead, and the locations of Faye and Jet have long since been lost. Ed is still a highly sought after hacker, but his activities have dwindled greatly since his first big appearance. There are few limits on who you can be in this universe excluding series characters. (Most of them died anyways)

You can take the part of a fugitive, cowboy, fugitive accomplish (there are plenty) or government law enforcement agent.

I will accept up to 5 ships. You must gain special acceptance for you ship seperate from that of your character.

The year is 2068, crime has risen drastically and is even more out of control than it ever was for the governments. Bounties are added exponentially by the day and crimes of every variety are every. Cowboys are at more of a need than they ever were, and the rewards are greater than ever. But with these increased rewards the risk increases just as much.

The Red Dragon Syndicate, which had fallen to shambles after Vicious, one of its highest ranked members, attempted to take over the entire organization, has risen once again to power. But it has put out a call of recruitment, the sense of honor that Spike and his former mentor once carried is long gone, and the Syndicate wants only the most ruthless and cunning of criminals.

The cowboys, on the other hand, are still out for themselves and refuse to cooperate. When sharing the kill means sharing the bounty, these cowboys don't often like a helping hand. With the growth of the Syndicate, cowboy's names and locations are being posted for criminals around the galaxy. Cowboys are seen as a great threat, and therefore, are hunted just as often as they hunt criminals.

It has become a much more dangerous world than it ever was...for anyone.



Character Application

Name: (Pretty obvious...what's your name?)
Age: (How old are you?)
Class: (Yes, it makes it sound all RPG cheesy, but what are you?)
Blood Type: (Just make one up, in this age it's important to know)
Physical Description: (Come on everyone, I thrive on detail)
Personality: (Are they mean, cold, and heartless; or are they soft, loveable, and cuddly? I need to know)
Affiliation: (Are they currently on a ship, or a member of an organization, who are their friends?)
Weapon Specialty: (Not everyone can be awesome at everything. What's your speciality?)

Ship: (You might not even have one. But most people have a small one person ship to fight and travel)

Other: (Is there anything else I should know?)



Ship Application

Ship Name: (What's the ships name?)
Size: (Large, medium, or small?)
Weapons: (What kind of weapons is this ship carrying?)
Crew Size: (How many people could live here?)
How was this aquired: (Bought, stolen, inherited, how'd you get it?)

Reason you think you should be a captain: (Give me a valid reason why you should be able to control the movement of an entire team of PCs. Should be at least a paragraph)

Character Application

Name: Harman
Age: 22
Class: Harman is a freelancer, he is technically a fugitive because there is a price on his head, but no one will bother attacking him, he's just too good. He'll work with whoever amuses him at the time, and he will work for a good amount of money.
Blood Type: AB+
Physical Description: Harman stands a little under 6'0''. He's actually precisely 5'11'', but he wouldn't want anyone to know it. He'd really like to appear masculine, but his life in front of a computer screen is rather apparent by his pale skin and sunken in eyes that are typically hidden behind square sunglasses. He wears a red hoodie and tattered jeans practically all the time, apart from that he's your typical dweeb. Skinny, and not very attractive.
Personality: Harman tends to be a introvert, he doesn't like dealing with people and he probably never will. If he has to deal with other people, Harman becomes short and very sarcastic, he believes that his intelligence with computers puts him above other people. He's rather vain, and likes life that way.
Affiliation: Harman doesn't work with anyone, he prefers being alone. He had two friends that he worked with, but they were both killed in a mission, and he hasn't had friends yet.
Weapon Specialty: He has a single pistol he uses fairly well, but he doesn't like fighting face-to-face.

Ship: Mosquito, a tiny ship with no main firearms. It has a single pneumatic power hose that can fire out and hack into the ship's control system. It sends it haywire and causes engines and weapons to fire randomly. The ship is fast, manueverable, but it does not have much armor, it counts on its ability to dodge and disarm for fighting.

Other: Stuff will come out as we play.

[kawaiispinel]

If it's okay with you, Mr. Conductor, I shall begin.

Name: Alexander "Alex" Aishling (Pronounced Ayse-lin)

Age: 21

Class: Cowboy Hacker

Blood Type: O

Physical Description: Thick, curly brown hair that can only be described as "unusually fluffy" and light blue eyes that are always full of mischief of some kind or another. Short for his age, standing only about 5'9. He's scrawny to the point that it's almost obscene, and because of that he's constantly wearing long sleeves even in warmer climates.

He traditionally wears a long-sleeved black shirt with some sort of gray graphic T-shirt over it, as well as a pair of tight-fitting blue jeans that are frayed at the edges and faded in patches. Occasionally, he dons an orange hoodie jacket, especially when he's about to make a hit. When wearing it during that time, he has it zipped to his chin with the hood pulled over his head, obscuring his eyes.

Alex's most famous (and possibly his most endearing) physical trademarks are his grandoise facial expressions and gestures. He also has a tendency to dance about when he's obscenely happy, though his "dancing about" is usually reserved to standing in one place and moving his fingers back and forth.

Personality: Depending on his mood, Alex can be either the world's most charming, witty, and sarcastic individual and the world's foremost "emo-boy." He comes off as "odd" to some people because of his manic personality, but he's actually rather down-to-earth and philosophical. Despite his age, he has an odd wisdom about him that is often hidden by his random personality quirks. The "emo" side of him can be a hassle to deal with, but he's learned to curb that aspect of his personality and tries hard not to let it out to much. He has a hard time expressing his emotions, and usually sings an appropriate song to purge himself of any unwanted emotions.

Alex tends to be very high-strung and high-matinence, mostly due to the fact that he has bipolar tendencies, but usually he's a fun guy to be around. His biggest fault, aside from not being able to deal with pressure properly, is that he has hard time feeling remorse for his actions, and while this is an asset in his work, it's not always a virtue when it comes to his friends and what he may do or say to them in the thralls of a bout of depression or something similar. He also as several issues with women and has left a string of unintentional broken hearts in his wake that still haunt him to this day.

Affiliation: He prefers to work alone, but will join any team that's in need of his service for some extra cash.

Weapon Specialty: He doesn't use weapons all that much, preferring to manipulate electronic devices in the area to do his dirty work, making all of his hits look like very freak accidents. He's a skilled hacker and an asset in any situation, though he has a tendency to crack under supreme pressure, which is one of several of his faults.

Ship: He usually just hitches rides on other ships when he can in exchange for doing repair work on computer systems and other services rendered.

Other: It's common for his friends and aquaintences to refer to his "emo" personality as "Alexander" and his more common, charming personality as "Alex" to distinguish between the two sides of the same coin within Alex's mind.

~Alex (M)~

I hit the ground running as fast as I could go, occasionally throwing glances over my shoulder and every now sidestepping bullets. Where are the authorities when you needed them? It's got to be eighty-five different kinds of illegal to be doing what that guy's doing/about to do to me.

Then again law and order is pretty much upside down at this point. And I did sort of ask for trouble wandering into one of the worst parts of Mars' greater metropolitan areas.... So sue me. I'm a bounty hunter. It's part of the job description to always get into serious trouble no matter what. (I bet I could quote you the exact clause that says something like that. Seriously.)

The fact is this situation would have been much easier for me to assess and deal with if it actually involved a job gone horribly wrong. My reason for being in the "mean streets" had been to take a fairly decent bounty on a pennty-ante drug trafficker who moonlighted as a adult bookstore owner (how classy). The job, itself, had actually been relatively hassle-free.

I arrived roughly about four hours ago and immediatly set to work. I cut the power to the bookstore and one of my hit's bodyguards went outside to check it where he was promptly knocked unconscious with the laptop I carry with me everywhere. Normally, I would never be so crude... Or so abusive to my baby, but there wasn't much else I could do in the time alotted. Plus, it'd be a good story to tell the next fellow bounty hunter I hitched a ride with. "Yeah, I knocked this guy out with my laptop." "Really?" "Yeah, man, he was HUGE. I just banged him over the head with my laptop. It was amazing."

Anyway, as I was saying... After I took out the bodyguard, I plugged my laptop into the mainframe of the bookstore's system (because even the lowliest of bookstores has a decent mainframe these days), and went to work. I wanted to freak this guy out before I sent him out to the bounty hunter who'd asked for my assistence in bringing him down for him in exchange for passage from a small spaceport in Callisto to Mars and half the bounty. (Not a bad way to make a living, I'd say.)

Once I got started, it was like the entire bookstore had been infested with slightly perverted poltergeists. There's a certain amount of finesse involved in manipulating electronic devices to your will, but once you get the hang of it, it's one of the most amusing sources of entertainment you'll ever find. As my fingers rapidly typed commands, plotting every detail of this hit, I casually flipped on the web cam that allowed me to see the interior of the store. Just as I had joyfully expected, the lights were flickering like mad, computers were going haywire and the bad wiring was snaking its way out of the walls. (It takes a lot of time and effort to manipulate wiring that way. You have to get the current moving in a certain direction at a certain speed, but once you learn that trick... Well, let's just say it's pretty handy.) In the thick of this, my hit was looking around frantically, thinking about making his way to the door, but one of the wires got a hold of his arm, preventing him from doing so and giving him a small shock. He gasped and yanked his arm away, and stumbled over his chair, splintering the wood. He groaned, tried to get up, noticed the wires looming over him menacingly and the still-flashing lights and the wailing of his own security system, (apparently, the guy only had the one bodyguard... That or all the others were on a coffee break) and decided he liked it better on the ground.

I grinned in satisfaction and yanked my circular comlink out of my orange hoodie's pocket, instantly the face of my employer flashed upon it. "He's ready for you, Mister. Just go in and get 'em." The man grinned in reply, flashing pearly teeth. The link blinked out and I quickly cut off my laptop's link to the mainframe. Instantly, everything in the bookstore went dark. I then pulled my hood over my head and met my fellow bounty hunter on the street just as he was dragging the bookstore owner/drug trafficker out. "I owe you one, Al."

"It's Alex," I corrected. "And you owe me 300."

The bounty hunter smirked and tousled my hair (or what would be my hair if it was covered as best as could be by the hood) condescendingly. "Check's in the mail, kid," he said, trying to be witty... And failing dismally from my standpoint.

"It better be," I said sourly. I hated being treated like a kid just because I looked like one. The bounty hunter sauntered off with his hit in tow, and I had an odd sinking suspicion that I probably wasn't going to get my money. Wouldn't be the first time. I sighed and wandered off in the opposite direction, singing something to myself about betrayal and hardship.

So now we get to the situation I found myself in before I recounted the tale of my hit, which, in reality, had absolutely nothing to do with that hit except that the hit was why I was in the mean streets of Mars in the first place. (You have to make yourself look good, before you make yourself look bad, I always say.)

You see, after a hit, I usually go to the nearest bar, mostly to drink but also to flirt shamelessly. Now, I ask you, what kind of decent father lets his beautiful, underage daughter waitress at his bar? That's eighty-five finds of illegal right there! So I tried to... Well, you know. Young men, hormones, cute girls. It all adds up in the end. Daddy-Dearest caught me, and decided that was reason enough for homicide. Really, the man's overreacting.

I could hear his daughter screaming at him to stop in what amounted to one of the most annoying southern drawls I've ever had the misfortune to hear as I'm currenly running away from the gunshots, avoiding death at all costs. I think she was saying something about how I was going to marry her. Son of a- Where the heck did she get that idea?! Geez, the things that come into the minds of these provincial backstreet girls....

I whirled a corner barely escaping a bullet meant for my head as it hit the cornerstone of an old building. I ducked into an alley and made myself invisible- not really all that hard since I happen to be very good at blending into my surroundings when I want to. The old bartender with his shotgun rounded the corner, followed by his sobbing daughter, and as soon as they were far enough away, I ducked out of the alley and took off running again down the main street, headed for the nearest spacesport, hoping and praying there was someone in need of my skills... Or at least someone who could provide me with a decent meal and point me in the right direction to another bounty.

Plus... There just so happens to be a bar in this particular spaceport where the bartenders don't shoot at you for flirting with the hired help.

Or at least they didn't the last time I was there. You never know these days...

I sighed and spoke aloud to myself as I rounded another corner into the area designated for the large spaceport, headed for the bar. "Just another day in the eccentricity that is my life."

(EDIT: I felt the need to at least pretend to make my way to the bar at this point without whoring up the thread. ^^;; )

[Dr.McNinja]

Name: Gregory Demaske

Age: 28

Class: Cowboy Pilot (Specializing in larger ships i.e Capital or Frigates)

Blood Type: AB

Physical Description: Gregory is handsome in a rugged sort of way. He wears his long, brown-red hair in a narrow ponytail that hangs down to his mid-shoulders. In the cockpit he most commonly wears just his purple, button up shirt done up about 75% to help him stay cool and his similarly colored denim pants. When in public or in the more common areas of his ship he also sports a tan overcoat and cowboy hat. Circled around the hat is a silver chain with a simple pair of silver wings attached to the front to hang down on the brim.

Personality: A hopeless romantic, Gregory enjoys the company of the other sex. He is not a womanizer and seemingly does this, as he puts it, “To find the true love that awaits us all”. As evidenced by this last comment, he is also quite fond of metaphorical statements and dramatic discourses. He has the typical pilot combination of cockiness and bravado that allows him to try maneuvers that any other sane individual would gape at. He has periods where he becomes quite moody and locks himself away from others, perhaps hinting at some type of internal turmoil or past hurt.

Affiliation: On his ship looking for a full crew so he can start taking on bounties.

Weapon Specialty: Deadly accurate with the various types of pistols he carries on the inside of his coat. Can wield larger weapons (automatics and whatnot) but isn’t nearly as good with them, prefers control over mass stopping power. At two holsters on his hip he carries his most common sidearms, a Desert Eagle like pistol and a smaller machine pistol.

Ship: The Vendetta

Other: People usually call him Demaske because he thinks it sounds more “valiant” than Gregory.

Is independently wealthy to the point where he could maintain his ship for a good while before finding work, not forever though and not by choice as he rather likes keeping his money.



Ship Application

Ship Name: The Vendetta

Size: Large

Weapons: 6 Modifiable Turrets (Ballistic based, can be modified to fire different types of shells or calibers in about twenty minutes given a skilled mechanic). Three on each side, on the wings, with all three being able to fire straight out from the ship, one each of the three on each side can fire in the dorsal direction, the ventral direction, and towards the bow due to their angles of deflections and positions on the wings.

2 Missile Launchers (Front firing, one on either side of the cockpit. Can fire either unguided or guided depending on the loadout and the budget for that month’s acquisitions). Each launcher can hold up to three missiles (including the one in the launcher) and as the RP begins the port launcher has guided missiles while the starboard one has more powerful, yet unguided, missiles.

Has slots for up to five more weapons though added hardware and upgraded ship capabilities would be needed before any more were added. Not to mention lots and lots of money.

Crew Size: Comfortably, about 10. It could hold significantly more if needed in an emergency though supplies would run out comparably faster.

How was this acquired: The basic chassis for the ship was bought by Gregory who then modified it to its current specs. Total it took a good chunk of his inheritance and savings (40-60%). The ship has a sophisticated self-monitoring system that, in the absence of a full crew, can keep the ship running with only Gregory aboard though only at anywhere from 50-70% (encompassing all aspects such as speed, gun tracking, computing power).

Reason you think you should be a captain: I’m a good RPer with the capability of running a ship and, if not leading, at least interacting with a team of similarly good RPers on my crew. I’m not set on my ideas being the only ideas and wouldn’t be opposed in any way to crew members using the ship and the team for their own ideas on the condition that it’s widely agreed on. Finally, I have a good enough imagination to accurately describe the going ons in the ship both in battle and out, having a broad enough view that I can go outside just my character to encompass the character of the ship as well (cause we all know that machines can take on personalities of their own, specially in anime).

Description of The Vendetta: A long inverted chevron tapers to a blunt point at the bow end. Generally smooth with a few blocky modules extending to the sides. Two wings extend from the side and start to angle backwards at about their halfway point. The cockpit is at the top of the nose, quite large for a ship that can be piloted relatively well with one person in control (though there are stations for any backup that could be found and hired). The main engines are on the back of the cylinder with backups and maneuvering engines located on the wings which could keep the ship aloft in atmosphere and not much more. Capable of landing both in water and on land, much like the Bebop. Is pretty maneuverable for a ship its size and with a full crew Gregory can do some pretty cool stuff with it (nothing like full atmosphere loops or cobras or anything though)

Gregory also has a fighter that specializes in maneuverability and speed. Has two forward pointing machine guns and a micro-missile launcher with four missile bursts (basically fires five tiny missiles that together can cause pretty good damage and separately could break some stuff…maybe). Named Unsung he usually only uses it to go down to a planet if he doesn't want to land the Vendetta or in extreme circumstances where for some reason a fighter is preferable to a larger ship.

Gregory Demaske

This is Mars station, you are clear for landing Vendetta. Dock 4

"Roger that"

Gregory flicked off his comm, smiling as the dour official blinked out of existence. Alone once again, he leaned back in his pilot's chair, scanning the monitors that surrounded him in a half circle. The Vendetta hung in space above Mars, on a vector towards one of the larger domes. It was oddly quiet in orbit, as far as traffic went, and Gregory did not have too much to worry about as his ship followed the docking beacon down.

"There's got to be some Cowboy's down there who're looking for some work."

The odds are somewhere around 100%, dependant on a few unknowns

Gregory chuckled, leaning back even further in his chair and placing his booted feet on the main console, "You can't trust probability V, too many factors."

Accepted, yet probability still is the most proficient form of analysis available.

Noticing that one of his engines was running a bit hot, Gregory used a foot to ease back a lever before responding, "Gut V, there's no analysis better than your gut.

If you say so sir.

Gregory shook his head, the complexity of his ship's computer system had guaranteed some oddities in its functioning yet Gregory had never met a computer so politely stubborn as the Vendetta's, or V as he called it. However, it performed its function admirably, allowing Gregory to run all the functions of his ship even without a crew, though at a greatly diminished performance. That downfall was the reason he had brought his ship to Mars, he needed a crew before he began to tackle any serious bounties. His funds would only last so long before he had to start turning some type of profit.

The Dome of the Martian City was looming now, close enough that Gregory had to sit back up and switch control back to manual for the careful piloting he would need to safely dock the great vessel. Narrowing his eyes at the seemingly tiny opening that he was expected to fit the Cruiser into, he focused on the task. A few minutes later and the Vendetta was sinking to the floor on it's landing struts, coolant hissing off as the ship shut down. Locking down the controls, Gregory stood. Grabbing his coat and hat from their stands near his main station, he spoke to the air, "Full security V, we don't want any hackers not working for us to start messing with your systems."

Indeed.

Quickstepping down the ramp, Gregory grabbed his gunbelt from it's hanger and strapped it on. Mars was a dangerous place where he was liable to end up on his search for crew members, and it always paid to be prepared. Scanning a quick eye over his elegant ship for any obvious errors, Gregory then exited the hanger and started for the nearest bar. You could always find someone skilled enjoying a drink over their latest victory, and Gregory figured he had a lot of searching to do.


For those who asked to be on the Vendetta's crew, I'm not allowing anyone to start on the crew since that's the whole reason why Gregory's coming to Mars and whatnot, feel free to approach him however as he'll probably take anyone as good as most of the PC's are willingly.

[classy_cat18]

Name: Nia Windfall
Age: 20
Class: Cowboy (mechanic with some hacking skills)
Blood Type: Um...O Positive!
Physical Description: It would be pretty difficult to know that Nia was a girl. Short, spiky, boyish hairstyle; flat chest and slightly muscular build. But she is a girl. She wears a long-sleeved black shirt; black, baggy cargo pants and black boots. Her eyes are a dark green. She wears a vintage Rolex on her right wrist and a personalized silver bracelet on her left.
Personality: You wouldn't be able to tell that Nia was a girl by her attitude, either. She's a girl that's not afraid to get her hands dirty and is nearly fearless. She has to be fearless. She loves a good joke and also a good game of checkers or chess. Don't make her angry or she'll slug you. But she lives in the now. No wondering about what the future will bring. Carpe diem!
Affiliation: She's a loner right now but she's willing to join up with anybody. Friendly to anyone who's friendly to her.
Weapon Specialty: Sniper rifle. Heh heh heh. She also knows some hand to hand combat but is not a master or anything.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Nia, you are one lucky cowboy. Pity that good luck doesn't come across every day," I muttered to myself as I sipped my drink.

"Talking to yourself again? That's not a good sign," the bartender told me.

I sighed and took another sip. "I was just telling myself that I was lucky that the bountyhead was good dead or alive. When it comes to being a cowboy, killing is one thing you try to avoid when you're looking for some money."

The bartender cocked an eyebrow. "Have you tried using something other than a sniper rifle?"

"Hey, the sniper rifle stays! I'm good at sniping. It's fighting I'm not so good at." My head rose as I heard someone walk through the door. A man that looked as if he was in his late twenties strolled up to the counter and ordered a drink. Too old for me but he had something I liked. I stopped the bartender. "Sir, I'll pay for this." I smiled at the guy. "I like your face. The name's Nia. Just got paid so drink all you like."

OOC: Sorry for the shortness.

[Bulbasaur4]

[color=royalblue]Name: Sheena McFlaur
Age: 24
Class: Mercenary
Blood Type: O
Physical Description: Sheena is a very attractive woman, being a slender 5’8 with an attractive fit build. Her skin is slightly tanned although it doesn’t seem to match her oddly colored almost white-blue eyes. Her hair is long and silky, reaching slightly past her shoulders and containing the striking color of almost black, with a hint of blue. She’s not very modest in any sense, not really caring if people look at her or not (all the more easy to kill them anyway). She wears ebony shorts that glisten as if they were made out of leather, but they are not. These seem to match perfectly with her black mid-calf high boots as well. Upon her upper half she wears a dark blue halter top, rimmed with black outlines and sown in the middle to prevent the bust from splitting. Around her waist she wears a black belt with a faint silver buckle, usually holding her guns which are fastened tight to her. (She’s mastered the art of getting her guns out without letting others take them). Upon her neck she wears a silver necklace with a strange symbol upon it, but no one understand what the symbol means. (Looks like an upside down V with a slashed t running through the middle.)
Personality: Sheena is the type of girl who seems to immediately attract attention whenever she walks openly into a room. She’s quiet when she needs to be, but she won’t hold back her opinion or words when some one addresses her in any situation. She’s got a slight attitude and doesn’t like to be pushed around by others, although she’s not too arrogant where she’ll blindedly march into any battle. She wears her emotions on her sleeve when she’s relaxed, but upon missions she rarely shows any emotion. (think of her like an actress.) She’s usually not in the ‘middle’ of any emotion, but is either one way or another.
Affiliation: No one- she works for hire to anyone. Although she has a few bad “raps” with the government for doing rather ‘illegal’ things. Some how she’s snaked her way from getting her name out to Cowboys though.
Weapon Specialty: Guns. If it fires, she can handle it.

Ship: She doesn’t have a ship and never will. She absolutely hates them.

Other: Sheena hates ships and “flying” due to a bad experience she’s had with them. However, she is very fond of weaponry and walking.

[size=1]
Sheena
.: F | Mercenary | On Mars :.

[color=royalblue]


The loud pattering of shoes against the hard stone ground seemed to echo in the alleyway as Sheena walked gracefully through. Her dark hair seemed to be made of bewitching ribbons of black as they gleamed with a hint of blue in the light, rippling with every sway of her artfully crafted hips. Her eyes were calm and cool, looking straight forward with their ice-bitten stare that only seemed to be perfectly accented with her tanned skin. She held in her grasp a light silver bag and she held it with authority but she didn’t appear to desperately hold onto it.
[ No girl… you gotta hold onto it lightly. Make it appear as if it isn’t worth anything… just a bag of trash for a girl. Make-up even… no one wants that….
Sheena smirked absently as she continued to walk, her glistening black boots splashing through a few puddles as she continued to walk. She had gone through a bit of a rough past few days trying to obtain the bag and hell would freeze over before she let anyone else take it from her.

She had been hired- with an excellent amount of cash- to obtain a bag which had long been lost. Of course, the man knew what he wanted- he knew what was in the bag, but he was hesitant to tell Sheena what it was. Of course, with a little bit of womanly influence, she managed to figure it out- discs. They were several pricey discs that helped enhance ship security and what-not. Immediately the idea of those discs was worthless to Sheena- anything related to ships were shit to her. However, knowing that they were pricey… she instantly offered to retrieve them – of course, with her own pricey influence. The man had accepted- half desperate and half not expecting a woman to find them.
Of course, he was one of the few who didn’t know Sheena’s reputation.
It didn’t take her long to find some information about the discs and their whereabouts. It was amazing how information traveled all around Mars and you could easily access it from a few drunkards at a few bars. The information was enough to lead her to an address, then a name… and soon the man himself was found. She had spied upon his home for a bit… noting when he went in alone, when he slept – if he did at all- and many of the regular ‘staking out’ procedures. Of course, then the perfect opportunity arrived. He left for an errand, leaving no one behind and swiftly she sought out the opportunity.
Getting into his apartment was easy- picking locks, even those advanced locks- weren’t too hard. Sheena swore a child could figure it out if trained properly. In any case, she broke in and swiftly searched the house… finally ending up In his bedroom where she found a chest located beneath a loose floorboard. She broke into the chest, found the bag, checked inside and then left. It was a bit rough however… for right when she left suddenly she was spotted by none other than him- the man himself.
This led to a chase as Sheena ran- finally ducking into an alleyway. Unfortunately, the man seemed to have a few buddies who were waiting and eventually it turned into a three on one game. Sheena didn’t mind the odds, for she held up her hands and dropped the bag by her feet. It might have helped a little bit that they weren’t too intimidated… most men, when confronted by a beautiful woman, wouldn’t feel too threatened. They instead found it amusing to comment upon her “supple body” and her “well-endowed breasts” and what not. This was enough to irk Sheena, which only furthered her resolve to get rid of them. There was too much money on this little job.
So of course, one of the men came to take the bag while another held her at gun point. She merely smiled at the man- flashing that charm again, until she suddenly kicked the man reaching for the bag in the chest. She then ducked, grabbed the man and held him up, just as the gun shot went off. It shot his own man, and there simply wasn’t enough time to react before Sheena had already unclipped her holster belt and pointed the gun in the air. Without hesitation she shot the man’s wrist, causing him to drop his gun as she shot the other man who was waiting for everything to be taken care of- just out of spite. She swiftly grabbed the bag, pointed her gun at the man on the ground (who thought it would be a good idea to grab his gun), shot him as well and then ran off.

She continued to run… working her way through the city the way she knew best. She then finally contacted her employer, found a good drop off site and waited.
Ah… it’s going to feel great to have some extra cash about. Sheena thought happily, finally reaching the drop off site in the alleyway. A man In the shadows waited, pointing his finger at the trashcan. He wanted her to dump the bag off in there. Sheena almost could have laughed- she had already seen his face. He must have wanted to act tougher now. She shrugged and dropped into the bag, only to find him pointing at yet another trash can. She swiftly looked in, finding a black bag and soon opened it- ah yes, wads of cash. She smiled and walked off… but she paused for a moment. Some thing didn’t seem too right… and with a little bit of shuffling, she whirled about. Sure enough, the shuffling she had heard had been the man going to the trashcan. Once he had found what he wanted, he had revealed a gun and pointed it straight at her.
“So you want free services…” Sheena thought bitterly, but she wanted her money and she’d be damned if he got off free. Of course, the man had been a dumb ass… from the start, and she doubted he knew how to work a gun quite like she did. So she risked it.
She swiftly undid her holster again and ripped her gun out within a flash of an eye, and she moved to the side as she did so just in time as a bullet whizzed by her. Firing, this time she aimed at his head. The bullet cleanly passed through, causing a spattering of blood into the air. The man fell backwards, dead instantly as she swiftly ran to him.
“Dumb ass…” she muttered, grabbing the silver bag. Hey, it had to be worth some thing to some one.
Normally she wouldn’t have killed him, but she doubted a man like him would have let her go so easily if she hadn’t. Besides, she never really liked him anyways.


An hour or so later, Sheena went into her ‘normal’ bar. It was probably the only bar in which the bar tender new her name. She liked the guy – he was old and a bit worn, but he was a good conversationalist. She had taken the cash and the discs out of their bags, pawned off the bags and bought a different bag. This bag was a deep blue and was styled like a purse that she swiftly shoved her money and discs in. She wasn’t ready go home before getting a nice drink in anyways.
Upon entering the bar, she could feel the many male glances burning her way. Her slim thighs and wavering form seemed to glide through the bar like a graceful cat as she came to the bar and sat upon a stool. A few of the more commoners saw her often, but it still didn’t prevent them from gaping. In her own way, Sheena didn’t mind… but she some time wished the poor saps had wives. Maybe that would make them mind their eyes.
“Heh, want zah usual m’dear?” The tender asked as he cleanly wiped away at a mug. Sheena smiled and nodded, as the man went to work and soon had a martini-like glass in front of her with an odd reddish hue. She drank it quietly, noticing that there was a woman in the bar as well. She… well, didn’t look like your typical woman. She had short hair, a roguish figure… and she seemed to be chatting with a younger, fairly attractive man. She heard bits and pieces of their conversation, but mostly she kept to herself.
“Tough night, eh?” The tender said, glancing at her as she smiled and nodded.
“Yeah… had to go through a bit more trouble than usual to get the prize, but I came out better than normal.” She said quietly with a mischievous grin, which only caused the tender to laugh as he walked to the pair to her side to offer them more drinks.



[ YAY for everyone at the bar! lol. I'll type for Xvinic later. ]

[Outlaw JT]

Name: Rolo
Age: unknown, but sounds like a teenager
Class: Fugitive/Information Broker/Hacker
Blood Type: unknown
Physical Description: unknown as no one as ever knowingly met him in person. He is most commonly represented by a robotic doberman that he controls remotely. It is a dull grey with red trim. People have met him through numerous other robotic animals as well, however. All share the same coloring and have a means to project his voice.
Personality: Playful, occasionally oblivious to others, curious, mischievous.
Affiliation: He aligns with whomever he finds most entertaining. Though he doesn't hold well with killing.
Weapon Specialty: All his robotic animals are equipped with a means of self defense. From metal teeth and claws to knockout dart launchers to magnetic shields. Some have multiple items, some have only one. His robotic doberman seems to be the most well equipped avatar he uses but then it is the one he uses most often.
Ship: He is known to fly a small unmanned drone appropriately named Wasp remotely with the best weaponry that could be installed in a craft the size of a small person. While it isn't enough to destroy other fighters it is enough to disable them. That and his drone is wicked fast and maneuverable.
Other: his accent changes frequently


Rolo
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It seemed to be a busy day on Mars today. Not that it wasn't a busy day in most of the places he kept ready tabs on but there was activity of particular interest to him on Mars today. Some business, some personal, most of which seemed to have converged in a single bar. He was a big fan of convenience.

As he finished scanning through all of his screens he slipped on a pair of tech gloves and goggles and went to work. It took him only a second to connect to his nearest avatar and he was online. His avatar awoke to the image of a drunk passed out in an alley. With ease he guided the metallic doberman around the slob and out onto the street. It was pretty busy out so no one paid it any mind.

It was a quick trot around the block to get to his first destination. The doberman sauntered into the bar quietly and unnoticed. Three tasty targets presented themselves instantly. Two were strictly for amusement at this stage of the game but one, a particularly naughty one, was for business. With unrivalled subtlety the doberman brushed past one Gregory Demaske planting an undetectable microscopic tracer. Undetectable as long as he was only using it for a location anyways. An uber skilled hacker might detect it when he activated it's transceiver capabilities.

Noting no more of a reaction than a curious look and a brush at his leg from Gegory, Rolo moved his avatar on to his next target and to business. And his first order of business, the doberman reached out and bit the ankle of one Sheena McFlaur. Not hard enough to do any damage but hard enough to hurt.

"That is for murder!" a sing songy irish voice whispered so only Sheena could hear from the metallic doberman's unmoving jaw as it pounced upward to keep Sheena from standing. "And now we can do business. I am aware you are in possession of a set of disks I would like to acquire. Please name a fair asking price."

[kawaiispinel]

~Alex (M)~

The bar was full when I arrived. People bustled about trading stories, sharing information, and generally chit-chatting with each other. As the door closed behind me, I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. I was in one of those moods where I actually enjoyed being around people and the sight of all the varying degrees of humanity surrounding and enveloping me in the safe bosom of this bar was rather appealing to me for some reason. I felt relaxed all of a sudden, like all the troubles of the day had been washed away just by entering this place.

"There's something sacred about the relationship between a bounty hunter and a bar," my father used to tell me. As if my father would've known anything about it. He had big aspirations to be a bounty hunter, but he was always too nervous, too obsessed with his computers to do much more than stay at home or occasionally venture out to the local taverns to live vicariously through the real bounty hunters that gathered there. Every now and then, he'd take me along and I'd listen with baited breath to the tales those old cowboys spun. I always knew I'd do better than my father. That one day I'd become one of those old cowboys.

I smiled in spite of myself. There I go again, dreaming. "Alexander, you're always dreaming! You'll never do anything!" My mother's voice in my head this time, full of disdain as always. I vowed before I left home that she'd eat those words, and I know she will... One day.

But first things first...

I made my way to the bar and chose a stool to the left of a ruggid man in his late twenties talking with a girl... Or at least what I assumed was a girl, though she wasn't all that effeminate. (This coming from a guy who, according to some of the girls I've dated, is probably metrosexual, at best.)

The bartender wandered over to me. "A little young to be drinkin', aren't ya?" He winked. Normally, I would've have taken offense to a statement like that and the guy saying it would have had a very freak accident involving the neon lights in the bar to atone for it, but I knew this guy personally- who didn't? His was the best bar on Mars. (Why I didn't come here first instead of wasting time at Mr. Psycho's Homicide Hut is beyond me.)

I smirked. "The usual and it make it strong. I nearly had my head blown off today."

The bartender snickered and turned his back on me. "Bad mark?"

"I wish," I said, forcing a laugh. "Angry father."

"If it's not one it's zah other with ya, Alex," he deposited my drink in front of me and I toasted him flambouyantly before downing it. He set me up again and returned to his other customers.

"You a cowboy, kid?" The man beside me suddenly asked. I glanced at him, sizing him up. There was no denying the fact that he was a cowboy. He definitely looked the part.

"Hacker," I replied, smirking over my drink. "Same basic principle, fewer guns."

"That doesn't seem to be the case with you," the girl on the man's other side chimed in brightly. "Didn't I hear you say something about almost getting your head blown off?"

I shrugged in a rather grandoise manner. "Friendly disagreement with a barman in the bad part of town. Doesn't happen all the time, trust me. I usually just work the computer systems." I patted my laptop for effect. "I'm Alex, by the way. Alex Aishling."

"Gregory Demaske," the man extended his hand to me and I shook it.

"And I'm Nia Windfall," the girl introduced herself. I leaned over and shook her hand as well.

"Pleased to meet you both."

Gregory opened his mouth to continue the conversation, but closed it again as he was suddenly distracted briefly by what amounted to a robotic dog brushing up against the back of his leg. The dog sauntered off and Gregory simply brushed his leg and went back to his drink.

"Is that... A normal occurance?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.

Gregory shrugged. "What is normal anyway?"

"Well said," I replied. My eyes fell upon the dog again as it made its way over to what had to be one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen in my life. My eyes widened as I stared at her and she seemed at least unconsciously aware that I was looking, but paid no attention to me. Just as well, I suppose. She looked like one of those women who'd put a gun to my head if I got fresh, rather than have her father, uncle, or some other significant male relative do it for her. It's best to keep your distance from those kind of women if you ever want to reproduce.

I turned back to my drink and hailed the bartender to set me up again before turning my attention back to Gregory and Nia. "Sooooo," I said, drawing out the syllable. "Are either of you in need of the services of a hacker?"

[Myster Myuu]

Character Application
Name: Frederick "Old Fred" Kinison
Age: 49
Gender: Male
Class: Cowboy Fighter Drifter
Blood Type: AB Positive
Physical Description: Old Fred is 6 foot 5 inches tall and built like a small tank, as anyone who knows him would say. He is broad-shouldered, barrell-chested, and has tree-trunks for arms and legs. He has plenty of muscles although the slow creep of age has begun to add a little flab to his mountain of muscle. He has shoulder-length dark brown hair that appears matted-down, limp, and slightly greasy and a scraggly-looking beard. His skin is a tanned bronze color from all the time he spends out-doors and his eyes, which catches many people off gaurd for a burly man, are a deep sapphire blue. For clothing, he is often seen wearing a pair of army green khakis with numerous pockets for keeping various items in, a pair of black leather combat boots, and a sand-colored sleeveless shirt over which he wears a faded and worn demin jacket. Many times he is also seen wearing an old green baseball cap with some obscure sports team logo on it (he found it long ago). Around his waist is a utility belt with the most prominent items being his weapons of choice; a standard baretta, a colt python, and a large combat knife. He has various battle scars, most notable being a bullet wound on the left side of his chest.
Other Things to know: In his youth, he was agile and fast for a man of his size. Now that he is older, he isnt a sprite as he once was, but it still a little quicker than the average behemoth. Unfortunately, age has begun to take its toll on Old Fred. He carries several of the ailments many middle-aged people do. His knees have begun to weaken from carrying his large frame and from over-exertion (if anything, his knees are his biggest weakness) and can no longer handle prolonged activity without a little rest. His eyesight isnt as keen as it once was either, though its still difficult to slip something passed him. He is also partially deaf in one ear.
Personality: Old Fred is a gruff and grumpy individual, who tends to be
rather terse towards others. This is doubly so for anyone more than half his age (A line he says quite often is 'Damn Kids!' SO much so, its practically his motto). He is well-known for finding something to grumble about even if everything was perfect (someone once said that were Old Fred to die and go to heaven, he would compalin about it being too damn sunny) On the flip side, Old Fred is more intelligent than many people give him credit for. Life has taight him a great many things and, on a rare occasion, he might part with some of it if caught in a good mood (which happens once in a blue moon). He also cares more about the aspect of life and most battle-worn soldiers do. Death is among his least favorite things and he dislikes killing anyone. Instead, he employs his instincts and military training to subdue those whom need subduing (the current bounty that hes after, for instance).
A Quick History: While he was born on Earth, Fred's family didnt stay there for long. They fled to Mars shortly after his birth. There, he was born and raised. At the age of 17, Fred joined the military and enjoyed an illustrious career. He rose in rank faster than anyone could have expected and obtained the rank of Field General on his 31st birthday. He fought in numerous wars and conflicts (including Titan War II, where he fought along-side Vicious and Gren) and received many awards and citations for the uncommon skill and valor showed on the battlefield. Shortly after his 39th birthday, Fred was discharged from the military due to an incident that haunts him still to this day (will be revealed and explored in the RPG, perhaps). Having no family to return, no money, and nothing better to do, Fred began an equally illustrious career as a bounty hunter. He roamed the galaxy as a vagabond, basically hitching rides with any ship that was going his way, finding what bounties he could and apprehending them with stunning effeciency (During this time, he took a bullet to the chest and left for dead by one of the few criminals that was able to elude him. He barely survived and has vowed to find the man who nearly killed him). After 10 years as a cowboy, Old Fred has acquired a reputation as a tenacious and unruly person not to be taken lightly. He is well-known throughout the galaxy and counted among the best cowboys. However, many are gradually coming to the opinion that Old Fred isnt as great as he used to be; that old age is catching up to him. The big question is.. are they right?.....
Affiliation: Being a former army General, Old Fred has several contacts
within the military (to be revealed in RPG, perhaps) which he occasional gets information from. Aside from that, he had no ther significant affiliations (aside from the occasional acquantance made during his years of drifting).
Weapon Specialty: He is most familiar with his baretta and Colt Python, being very accurate with them. He is also familiar with many forms of automatic weaponry thanks to his time in the military but isnt as accurate with them. Lastly, he has his trusted combat knife for close-quarters that he weilds with deadly efficiency.
Ship: Old Fred has a MONO-Cruiser that he calls 'Old Glory' It is a small
single-occupant space-ship with three swivel-mounted gatling guns (smaller ones on each wing and a larger on underneath the main hull) that can be controlled from the cockpit. It is a very basic ship that Old Fred uses sparringly as piloting is not one of his strong points. He also uses this ship for short-ranged travel has a last resort if he cannot secure more suitable transport.
Other: Old Fred has two pet peves: One is onyone that chews with their
mouth open. The other is anyone with an annoying laugh. More than anything else, these two things can cause Fred to lose his temper if it is persistent.
---------------------------------------------

Old Fred (M) - Stakeout

I swung open the door and let myself into one of the less derelict bars on this rotten sesspool of a planet they called Mars, stooping down slightly so I didnt knock my head on the doorway. As I strode in, the bartender gave me a big grin and motioned for me to have a seat. Normally, I dont like to make myself chummy with people, but this guy was always an expection. He had saved my life.
About eight years ago, I had gotten into a tussle with one of the lesser crime syndicates on Mars while pursuing a bounty. I had grossly under-estimated their numbers and had found myself dodging enough bullets to bring down a brontosaurus. Not an easy task for a large lumbering sort such as me. In the confusion, I had ducked into this bar and the man before had been nice enough to hide me until the heat died down. He has some sort of affinity for bounty hunters. His dad was one or some such nonsense like that. Now I always payed his back by buying lots of his liqour when Im on Mars.
"Here for business or just to chat?" he asked as I sat down, the stool creaking under my girth.
"Business as usual," I muttered gruffly, "got a bounty that'll be makin' an appearance here any time now."
The bartender grinned and nodded, "just dont mess up my fine establishment too much. Care for a drink while you wait?"
"What the heck do you think?" I snarled grumpily, "Just give me my usual and be done with it!"
The bartender chuckles, unaffected by my flipness as he went to fill my order. He had gotten used to my sour attitude after eight or so years. He even once said I was like the grandfather he never had. I nearly tore him a new one for that. I think the string of obscenities I invented that day scared away one or two of his regualars, yet I still come here and he still allows me in.
"Here you go, old friend," he exclaimed jovially as he sat a good-sized bottle of the strongest whiskey he sold in front of me. I snatched it up, grumbling to myself as I slammed down a couple of paper oolongs onto the counter. I find it easier to have a few of them with me at bars. It's far simpler than troubling with electronic money.
With a final nod to the bartender, I stood and ambled over to one of the darker corners of the facility and sat, dropping the large duffel bag I had with my to the ground with a hard 'thunk' as I guzzled down some of my drink. Best for a cowboy with marginal celebrity that's out for a bounty to stay as low as possible. Fortunately, the regualrs knew better than to break my cover and everyone else rarely payed attention to anything but the drinks they nursed. Now all I had to do was wait and watch.
After a time, the door swung open and a scrawny-looking kid carrying what looked to be a sniper rifle entered looking snug. It was hard to tell whether it was male or female, but a well trained eye could easily spot that this was indeed a woman. She sat down at the bar and seemed to be gloating to herself. I scoffed and shook my head. Another young would-be bounty hunter. I wondered if she even knew how to effective use a sniper rifle. She looked young and inexperienced, so I doubted it. I did have to admit, it was a clever idea for a cowboy to imploy the tactic of striking from a distance. Nowadays, it was a far more dangerous job to set out looking to wrangle up bounties.
Not long after she entered, a gentleman looking to be in his late twenties entered. He seemed to have purpose here. You'd be a fool not to recognise him as a bounty hunter. The guns worn openly at his waist her prooft of that. I stiffened slightly. A purposeful-looking cowboy. He better not be after the same hit as me or things might get difficult.
The young man sat down and ordered a drink. The rifle-toting woman idled over to him and started making conversation. Great. They may be partners and that would make things even worse. I grumbled to myself and took another swig. Why could thing erer go right even on a small-time hit. The guy I was after was the smallest of the small-fries. A two-bit thug who got too big for his britches. I wouldnt even be surprised if the price on his head was but there by some larger crimelord that got annoyed with the pesky bastard. Surely, he wouldnt attract too much attention...
As I considered this, another person entered the bar. It was a woman of stunning beauty. Narturally, every man in the bar made sure to undress her with their eyes. I smirked. From the looks of her, these drunken lecherous might wanna keep to themselves. This lady was no dainty flower. I daresay she would be fully capable of sending them all straight to the morgue if she so desired. She didnt appear to be a cowboy, however. She didnt have that unmistakable air about her. She sat down across the bar from my location and ordered herself a drink.
Time wore lazily and I started to get impatient. Where the hell was this rat bastard? He may only be worth 5,000 oolong, but I needed the money to re-stock my rations and secure myself transportation to a place with more tantilizing bounties to snag. I might have to accidentally rough him up a little more than I had originally intended.
At this point, another scawny kid entered the bar and sat down at the bar right next to the two cowboys. He ordered a drink then turned to them and started talking. Damn it all to hell! If they were a team working to worm in on my bounty... Gods, why the hell would three cowboys need to work together to bring down this joke of a thug, anyways. I was probably just being paranoid.
I sighed and went to take another drink when something odd caught my eye. Something metallic sneaking into the bar. I watched keenly as the metal thing move quickly through the bar, dawdling for a moment next to the three bounty hunters, then making its way for the good-looking girl that had entered earlier. As it slunk up to her, I saw that is looked to be a robotic dog. It bit her on the leg then put its front paws up on her lap, much to her chagrin. You dont see something like this everyday.
It reminded me of something I heard about on Callisto. Something about a talking robotic animal that was said to be controlled by some sort of super-hacker. At the time, I had scoffed and said that people needed to stop blowing smoke up other people's arses. But maybe there was some truth to what the story after-all.
As I watched this strange mechanized creature intently, I heard a faint noise beside me. I looke down just in time to see a young brat grabbing for my duffel bag. He grasped the handle then made to run for it... only to be stopped short by the sheer weight of my duffel bag. There were few that could drag that thing, let only run with it. One doesnt carry his life in a bag without said bag weighing a decent weight.
"Aww, CRUD!" exclaimed the kid as he tried to get away. I was too fast for him, however. Before he could take a step, I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and lifted him off the ground, standing as I did so. I glared at the clearly frightened brat.
"It ain't nice to try an' take other people's things!" I bellowed in a deep and belligerent voice.
The twerp yelped and soiled himself. I looked at him in disgust then sat him uncerimoniously down, shoving him slightly so he fell onto his rear. He shyed away from me and as I took a few steps forward, into the light, glaring as angrily as I could muster for a kid who had just pissed his pants in public. The humilation should be enough of a punishment, but I wanted to scare him a little as well.
"I suggest ya make yourself scarse before ya get yourself hurt!", I stated in a gruffly.
The kid's eyed widened in astonishment. Damnit. He knew who I was.
"Y-you're..." he stuttered, "you're Old Fred!"
"Do NOT call me that! I HATE that damned name!" I spat, taking the menacing step towards the brat. He scurried to his feet and bolted out of the bar.
The damage was done, however. All eyes were on me. Expressions mized from shock to confusion to excitment. I cursed under my breath. Now things were going to be impossibly difficult. I'd be lucky if I could get within 10 feet of my hit once he got here before some idiot lburted out something to the effect of 'Let's watch Old Fred lick some arse' or 'You get im, Old Fred.'
I growled moodily and sat down once more, downing the remainder of my whiskey in a matter of seconds.
"Damn kids," I muttered to myself as I leaned back in my cahir and stared daggers at the rest of the bar-goers. Things were never as easy as they should be.

[Mystic_clown]

Name: Nicholas Maddigan, a.k.a., The Mad Hatter
Age: 25
Class: Fugitive
Blood Type: B negative
Physical Description: He stands at about 6 foot with a very lean build. His hair is pale blonde, wild and untidy, reaching just above his shoulders. His eyes are a deep green. His complexion is a bit on the pale side.

His outfit causes him to stand out from the crowd. He wears a magnate suit, with a couple of frills, a bright green undershirt and a large purple boy tie, black pants and fluorescent green shoes. The outfit is complete with a pair of white cotton gloves and a magnate top hat with a tag saying “This style 10/6” on it.
Personality: Strange is the perfect word to describe the Hatter, very strange indeed. He’s usually so upbeat and perky, even in the midst of battle he’s grinning. He loves to make a mockery of his victims (and the authorities) and loves leaving his trademark, which is a tag with the words “This style in 10/6” written on it. Despite this he’s quite intelligent and knows how to get himself out of a tight spot. For some reason however, his personality can go from happy one minute, to completely depressed the next.
Affiliation: He works alone
Weapon Specialty: A fighting style he developed called “Gun Fu” This involves a number of karate-esque kicks with very skilled shooting from the two custom pistols he’s got hidden up his sleeves. While it’s a strange fighting style, that doesn’t mean it’s not an effective one.

Ship: Tea Time

Other: “I know Gun Fu!”



Ship Application

Ship Name: Tea Time
Size: Small
Weapons:
-A pair of gatling guns underneath the main body, which can be control from the cockpit. While they both have a large amount of ammunition each, it’s a bit difficult to aim with them due to their positioning.

-A compartment on the back of the main body which can release mines in mid-flight. While these aren’t strong enough to completely destroy a small ship, they can do a fair bit of damage. Perfect for making a getaway.

-A large cannon at the front of the ship. The ‘barrel’ is in fact two long rails which can be folded back into the wings. They run parallel to each other, a few meters apart. A large amount of electricity is charged between then before a powerful charge is shot at the enemy. While powerful, it does take a lot out of the ship’s battery, so it must be used sparingly.

Other Features: The thrusters on the ship can rotate, allowing for some sharp turns and quick 180’s.

Crew Size: 1
How was this aquired: He stole the ship off some guy when he stopped for a bathroom break. Since then, Nicholas has modified it so it’s almost unidentifiable to what it was before.

Reason you think you should be a captain: Unless I have a very good reason for not being able to go on the computer, I’ll be on this sight at least once a day.

I'll do his intro later

[Dr.McNinja]

Gregory turned his attention from the strange robotic dog that had brushed against him back to the young hacker in front of him. Giving the kid an appraising eye, he thought to himself, "Pretty young...but then again, so's one of the best hackers in the universe, can't judge this type by their age.

Gregory finally nodded, "I'm here looking for a crew and a hacker's pretty much a necessity now adays. You any good?"

The kid...Alex...gave a cocky grin, "Let's just say that you wouldn't want me near your ship if I wasn't working for you, you'd probably end up tied up in your main drive conduits."

Gregory had to laugh, the kid and V would have a field day with that comment but he liked his confidence. The confident ones came in two flavors: those who really were as good as they said and those who couldn't hack a preschool network with root access. Somehow Gregory figured this kid was the latter, someone would've offed him already for his smart mouth if he wasn't good. Gregory extended a hand, "You're hired, how'd you like to work with one of the most sophisticated ship computers out there with the best pilot to make sure you don't get blown up as you do?"

The kid's grin was already growing, Gregory knew he had a deal even though the money issues hadn't been worked out yet. Before Alex could start the haggling, Gregory muttered to Nia, "If you're looking for a ship too, stick around. Depending on what you're good at I've still got plenty of room."

[kawaiispinel]

~Alex~ (M)

I couldn't believe my good fortune. After the morning I'd had, I'd expected to get my ass kicked in the bar and slapped in the face by more than a few women. (Which is usually how my worse days ended.) But this... This was wonderfully unexpected! I had never heard of this Gregory Demaske, but, then again, my knowledge of famous bounty hunters isn't very good. In fact most of the cowboys my father used to converse with and tell me stories about either died a long time ago or are currently retired. This guy looked liked the real deal though. He was young (older than I was, anyway), but he had the same edgy look to him that I'd seen on all the hardcore veterens when I was a child. I believed that he'd bee able to provide me with ample opportunity to work, unlike some of those cheap one-time gigs where you never know if the guy's gonna pay up, shoot you in the back, or just run off with the entire bounty and leave you stranded on some backwater planet.

This guy I felt I could trust.

Be gentle with your wage haggling, Alex, I thought to myself as I prepared to start the bidding while Gregory briefly turned back to Nia. Better to be paid less at first and have a steady job, then get greedy and risk not getting anything. Lesson number one in the "Hackers-for-Hire" handbook.

"10%," I offered. Gregory arched his eyebrows.

"That's not very much."

"Well, it's subject to change once you see what I have to offer," I shrugged. "You don't know how good I really am. I have a lot of confidence, but I'm noted for my arrogance. I don't have any references or anything so I could be lying to you... I happen to be a very good liar," I winked, showing him that I was merely making a joke before that comment managed to hit him the wrong way. "10% for the first job I help you pull, and then we'll talk about splitting the bounty on any other- provided you decide to keep on your team- consecutive jobs."

Gregory laughed. "You're definitely something else." He shook his head, flashing me a knowing look coupled with a small smirk. "I have a feeling I wouldn't have needed those references in you had them, however. I firmly believe that if you weren't all that you say you are, you'd be dead in an alley somewhere because of that mouth of yours."

I had to laugh at that comment, though I didn't blame him for coming up with that assumption. I pull the modest act all the time because it works better in my favor when it comes to cutting deals. If you're gonna come off as arrogant because of a fatal character flaw, you might as well make it out to be a joke. People are better able to accept faults if you actually bring them up in jest, rather than pretending you don't have any.

I took another sip of my drink, unable to resist fooling around some more. "You never know. I could be better at surviving than I am at hacking. Though in this day and age, it's probably good to have a hacker who excels in both. So, do we have a deal?"

"I think we can work something out," Gregory smirked and extended his hand. For the second time that afternoon, we shook hands, but this time it was the start of a kind of partnership that was a long-time coming for me. Too many two-bit wannabe cowboys wanting a hacker for a solitary job had left me jaded in the idea of ever finding an actual team to be a part of... With an actual ship and not some cheap excuse for a transportation device to travel in. It seemed to me that Gregory Demaske looked like one of those cowboys who was actually going somewhere with his talents, and by becoming a member of his team, I would be going to those same places. Hey, Ma, look at me now!

My thoughts and glowing aspirations were quickly broken apart by some sort of commotion somewhere in the bar. Instinctively, I turned to the woman I had seen earlier, wondering if the dog had attacked her, but neither woman or dog had changed position since the last time I looked their way.

"Over there," Nia pointed out a large, burly, older man who was standing over a quivering urchin who, as far as my best guess could assume, had apparently just tried to rob him. I caught the name "Old Fred" escape the lips of the kid and the old man reacted violently to that, causing the kid to scurry out as quickly as possible. There was something familiar about the name of "Old Fred" which seemed to be the general consensus of everyone in the bar, but I, myself couldn't quite place where I'd heard it. I quickly averted my eyes as the man gave everyone in the bar who was currently staring blankly at him and whispering softly among themselves a dark look and returned to his chair. Allowing my euphoria at finally getting a job to wash back over me in the wake of that general commotion, I ordered yet another drink with the last of my woolongs, hopeful that I'd soon have a full pocket again. "Bottoms up, kid," I whispered to myself, aware that Gregory's attentions were elsewhere and thus he probably wouldn't notice how crazy I looked murmering softly to myself as I was. "Things are finally looking up for you, kid,and if you play your cards right, this could be the beginning of the rest of your life."



(OOC: Yay for nearly pointless filler/character development! Oy... Get back on your game, Chris-chan. -_-)

[classy_cat18]

Nia Windfall
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I'm a sniper by nature even though I don't look like it. I've been trained to use a sniper rifle ever since I could carry one," I told Gregory, my excitement growing. "This usually makes the bounty hunting easier." I held a thumb and a finger, pointing them like a gun. "Just seek out a leg, fire, and catch up to them while they're hobbling away."

"That sounds interesting," Gregory said.

"Oh, it is. There are a couple of problems. Sometimes they bleed to death and most bounties are not dead or alive. Then they try to fight. I know hand-to-hand combat, no problem. I'm just not a karate master. But all in all it's good. It's a good way to catch bounties without getting most of the risks. And I'm trying to get these tranquilizer darts that I can fire with my rifle so that'll eliminate the bleeding problem." I stopped and found out that I was rambling. "I'm sorry for running at the mouth like that. I'm just having a really good day. Oh, I forgot to tell you! I'm also a mechanic! I can spot problems in your ship that you usually miss. And I know a few hacking tricks, too. I'm just not as good as him." I pointed at Alex.

"Now for the pay," I concluded. "I want the same pay that Alex will get if he joins your crew. I feel like I'm no better, no worse."

[Mystic_clown]

Nicholas Madigan "The Mad Hatter"
---------------------------------------------
The hatter whistled a little tune to himself as he grabbed items off the shelf and putting them into the plastic bag he ws carrying.

"Okay, lesse, um, I'll have some of these, I'm running low on these and, ooh some of those would be nice." As soon as it was full, he headed for the door.

"Um, sir?" The girl at the checkout called, "You have to pay for that!"

He just turned and flashed a cocky smile.

"Why should I?" he joked, "How can I rob you if I pay for what I'm stealing?" A look of confusion washed over the girls face before she realized what was happening.

"Wait! you mean you're...?" The hatter chuckled.

"Oh, I'm sorry," with a flick of a wrist, one of his handguns was out and pointed at the cashire.

"This is a stick-up!"

The poor girl just fainted and the mad hatter left the store, laughing.


Robbing a convinience store...how the heck did you expect him to get his food?

[Dr.McNinja]

Gregory looked at Nia for a long moment, he was as good as they come with his pistols but sometimes one couldn't afford to get that close to a bounty. A sniper would come in handy and 10% wasn't all that much to lose for such a specialist. With both a hacker and a sniper the only other high paying job he'd want would be a mechanic, after that things like gunners and cooks and whatnot didn't usually take as much of the bounty as the specialists did. With a firm nod he reached out and shook Nia's hand as well. Two crew members found, Gregory ordered a round and sat everyone down at a nearby table, one with noticably less grime caked on its surface than the rest.

"Once I'm done in town I'll take you both to the Vendetta, I'm going to see if I can't get us a good mechanic so that V can focus on some other, more important, things than the engines. The Vendetta's as good as they come. I had her built from scratch and didn't spare any expense, part of the reason I'm interested in roping in a few high paying bounties soon. You'll each get your own cabin and she's got all the stuff you'll need to stay comfortable between trips. I'll make sure to get you root access as soon as I can Alex, just try not to mess with V's AI too much, he tends to get a bit irritated at that.

The kid grinned, "I'll try to restrain myself Gregory"

Gregory grimaced, "One more thing, call me Demaske. I like it better and so do most of the woman I meet...no offense Nia."

Things were going better than expected, with any luck Gregory'd be able to get off Mars before the day's end, and with at least a semblance of a crew too. Now he had to start thinking of who they were going to track down first.

(If a PC mechanic doesn't show up soon I'll whip up an NPC one to do for now)

[Shizo]

Um, do late sign-ups post their sign-up here? I'm putting it here, but I'll move it to the application thread if need be.


Character Application

Name: Alias: John Grey--Real name: Gio Ross, more commonly known as "Breathless"
Age: 27
Class: Fugitive (yay!) His real name's given for his bounty, a big reason why he needed an alias
Blood Type: A-
Physical Description: Short, shaggy blond hair with long bangs that cover his bright blue eyes. He's around 5'8 and so thin he borders on emanciated. There are several pale scars covering his lightly tanned body, the most identifiable of which is a scar on his abdomen shaped like a cross. However, his clothes mostly cover these scars, since he has only a few on his hands and none on his face. He wears plain clothing: a white t-shirt, grey khaki pants and a thin cotton long-sleeved shirt which buttons up the front. Most of the time, it's unbuttoned. He also has a belt with a holster for a pistol and two horizontal sheaths, which lay on top of each other, in the back for his blades. His expression is usually blank, almost only showing dark, focused emotion during a fight.
Personality: Very tired and worn out. His main focus is staying alive, which means remaining on the run. Fighting and killing don't bother him, nor does having to basically live in the street and steal what he needs; he's just mentally exausted from being a fugitive for years. He's also having problems getting certain necessities, like food, and he spent most of his remaining money on producing a false identity, so he's getting desperate, desperate enough to perform rather suicidal feats to live.
Affiliation: He was a member of the Red Dragon Syndicate, but he pissed off the wrong people, one of the Syndicates legitimate faces put a substantial bounty on him, and he's been on the run from cowboys, law enforcement, and crime syndicate members ever since.
Weapon Specialty: Although he's fairly good with guns, his preference is melee combat. Specifically, combining martial arts with two short swords that he knows how to use very well.

Ship: None. It'd be too easy to track. He usually hitchhikes or becomes a stowaway.

Other: The Red Dragon Syndicate didn't have any pictures of John on file, so most people after him really have no idea what he looks like beyond a rough description. The only real positive proof most have is the cross-shaped scar on his torso. He's actually become kind of a legend among cowboys. They started calling him Breathless because that's how he's left every bounty hunter, or anyone else for that matter, who's come after him: breathless, dead.

[Bulbasaur4]

[color=royalblue]
Sheena McFlaur
.: F | Mercenary :.

No sooner had Sheena ordered a second drink, that suddenly some thing sharp seemed to bite into her heel. Sheena was one to tolerate pain, but the suddenness of it all caused her to turn around and glare at the invisible person who did it. Swiftly her piercing olive gaze stared down at a metallic dog, which only caused her to sigh slightly. It spoke... well, not it but the controller of the dog obviously spoke through it. Saying the bite was for the murder. It almost made Sheena roll her eyes- like that was anything to be punished for these days. But still, she some how found herself staring at a metallic dog. Perhaps a vicious looking dog... if Sheena would call anything that, but she really didn't have the strength of fear with her. Especially in this bar.
Listening to the offer from the man-in-the-dog... well, sort to speak, Sheena raised a brow. So, she had to name a price on the discs?

Such a thing to Sheena was out of her head. Not that she didn't understand the ideas of what things were worth, it was just that she wasn't ship savy and these discs weren't any closer to it. Looking at her bag, she shrugged- absently tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear. Well, she had been given fifty thou to retrieve them. She believed they had to be worth more than that. At least double... and even if they were worth more then that, Sheena could have cared less. They were nothing to her... she didn't work with discs, ships or any of that sort. Just weapons. Weapons and her body, which very well could have been considered a weapon.
"A hundred twenty, and we're tacking some zeros behind that." Sheena said softly but with an air of confidence. Not that she was confident that the discs were worth that, if the metallic dog had any money on him or if she'd have to play loop-in-a-hoop again around the city. She really would rather stay at the bar.
"Oh... and you'll need a bag." Sheena said absently, not intending to give him the cash with the discs- nor was she going to flash the cash about.

[Mystic_clown]

Nicholas Madigan "The Mad Hatter"
------------------------------
Nicholas grinned as he made his way through the crowds in the casino. What better place to make a heist hten at a place like this. It suited his character perfectly.

He headed over to the pocker table. He was pleased to see a large amount of cash sitting in the middle.

Time to take home the whole pot.

With one graceful leap he jumped onto the table, bringing his guns out for the world to see.

"Alright!" he called out, "This is a robbery! Everybody freeze!"

Everyone at hte table jumpde back, getting as far away as they could form the gun wielding (possibly crazy) man standing before them. Then women gasped and all eyes fell on him.

The hatter grinned as he removed the hat form his head and placed it in front of him.

"Alright people!" he announced, "This is how it works. Everyone comes up to the table one at a time and places all their valuables in the hat. Try anything funny and, well, yo can guess what'll happen."

Security chose the perfect time to show up. Three guys in suits ran up to the table, drew their guns and took aim at hatter.

"Don't move dirtbag!" one of them barked. In response, the hatter quickly got into a very bizarre fighting stance.

"Stay back!" he yelped, "I know gun fu bitches!"

Confusion was all over the security's faces and they weren't ready for him to jump off the table and leapright at them.


Anyone care to try and stop m? *insane laughter*

[kawaiispinel]

~Alex (M)~

With business done for the moment, Demaske, Nia, and I were free to get better aquainted with one another. Nia was apparently a skilled sniper, which was very helpful for me to know for a number of reasons, not the least of which was the fact that I now knew to definitely watch what I did or said around her. I had a bad history with women and luckily for me none of them were skilled with anything above a hair dryer (which, by the way, hurt when they're flung at you). If I angered her, there was no telling what she could do to me. Plus, she seemed too nice and endearing a person to be forced to see that horrible side of my personality that always comes out when I'm with a woman.

As for Demaske... Well, my mind already registered that he was a good guy and I could trust him. The description he had just given of his ship intrigued me. Imagine! Building your own ship from scratch. Nobody has the friggin' time and energy for that anymore. Anyone rich enough to do something like that usually just hires someone to custom-build one for them. And it had A.I. to boot! I'd never been on a ship with its own A.I. drive before, but I'd always wanted to travel in one. The whole concept was amazing to me. If I had the cash, I would've outfitted my baby with an A.I. drive, but what with that undeniable urge to eat, I hadn't really had the money handy. Plus, my laptop was an older model and probably wasn't compatible with A.I. drives anyway. (However, I'm rather good at "ghetto-rigging" things, so I probably could have made it work... Though, I'd rather not risk the life of a laptop that I'd had since I was a kid. A computer is a hacker's best friend, after all.)

I relaxed visibly in the company of my newfound "business partners" and, hopefully, friends, as Nia and Demaske continued to talk. I sipped my drink and pondered what their stories were. I hadn't come across a bounty hunter yet that hadn't had some interesting excuse for taking up the life he or she had chosen. I had my reasons, obviously. Wanting to escape from a backwoods moon and become a better man than my father were just a couple. However, most were content to keep their pasts, or at least a grand majority of their pasts, a secret. (Myself included.) I'd heard plenty of those secrets from the lips of the bounty hunters I've worked with in drunken stupor and in death over the years to know why they were better kept locked away in secrecy than breathed aloud.

Six years was long enough to develop some kind of dark past. Even a precocious fifteen-year-old boy can find trouble for himself out there in the black, but if you're a bounty hunter everyone expects you to have a tainted past and they don't care, because what you do is good for the people. You're almost above the law in some respects. Those who work with you don't care about your secrets, because they're too preoccupied with their own.

Not me. I stay preoccupied with the secrets of others. I don't expect anyone to ever find out my secrets.

"Alex?" Nia spoke up, waving her hand in front of my face.

"Huh?" I shook my head, disrupting my silent, dark meditation. You shouldn't think like that, Alex. People'll think something's wrong with you if you do, I scolded myself.

"You zoned out," Demaske said. "I just suggested that we start heading out." He cast a look around him. "It's getting kind of crowded in here."

I looked around and had to agree. The crowd inside the bar had nearly doubled since I entered, and I couldn't even see the dark-haired bombshell with the dog at the bar anymore from the thick accumilation of people all around. "Okay," I stood up, collecting my laptop. "Let's go."

About that time, a very frantic older man burst into the bar, looking shook up about something or other as well as looking like he had run an awfully long way. He clung to the wall for support, breathing heavily, trying to regain his composure. Every eye in the bar was on him, waiting for him to speak.

"The Phobos Casino," the man gasped finally. "It's under attack by..."

The man collapsed into a heap onto the floor. A few men ran up to him, checking his pulse before finally proclaiming that he was dead. Apparently the exertion of running all the way from the casino and the shock of the situation had been too much for his old heart. I felt a little bit of remorse for him, which was odd for me, since I usually found it hard to feel sad about things like that.

I took my attention away from the old man's corpse and watched as several people began to subtely make their way out of the bar while the body was being moved. I knew what they were up to, and I wasn't too pleased by it. Sneaking off to get the bounty on whatever psycho had attacked the casino before the messenger's body was even cold! How dare they!

"This sounds like this could be a huge bounty," I turned to Demaske and Nia. "You two up for a detour?"

What? I never said I was a saint...



(OOC: Yay for the dark side of Alex! ^^;;; And yay for random plot developments!)

[Dr.McNinja]

Alex certainly wasn't wasting time. Gregory hadn't planned on picking up a bounty so...spontaneously. He had hoped to get back to the Vendetta and be able to pick and choose from the bounty database he had access to there. But...it's not often that a dying man bursts into the room crying out for help and if the target was a casino then Alex was right in thinking that the reward for stopping them would be pretty high. Adjusting his hat to a more rakish angle, Gregory gave his best rougish smile and stood , "I'm always ready kid"

Gregory flipped a small, palmsized computer out of one of his jacket pockets and spoke into it, "V, I've got a possible bounty, get ready for some IDs if I can get an image, it'd be nice to know how much they're worth before we stick our necks out too far."

Of course sir, awaiting transmission.

Pocketing the device, Gregory turned to his new partners and motioned for them to follow. Exiting the bar quickly, just moments before gun-fu erupted, Gregory turned towards Alex, "You know the way?"

The youth nodded, sticking close to avoid being overheard by the pedestrians passing them on all sides, and began running in the direction of the casino. They needed to get there before there was a significant law enforcement presence, the law always had a way of holding back bounty hunters which usually resulted in an empty bank account at the end of the day. As the group moved, Gregory outlined a rough plan, "We don't know how many there are or how well armed they are. We don't know if they're good or just a bunch of punks either. Alex, try to get into the casino's network and see if we can get some surveillance footage or security access or anything that could help us. Once we know where they are, taking them down'll be easier. As for you Nia, I don't suppose you have your rifle handy?"

(Whoops, didn't see that Nia was a mechanic, guess that'll fix that problem if a full mechanical specialist doesn't join up)

[classy_cat18]

Nia Windfall
*~*~*~*~*~*~

My heart was racing. I was actually going for a bounty with a team! Just like the old days! I patted my duffel bag with pride. "Just give me a few seconds to put it together. But first I need a high place where I can spot and shoot him."

"I think that the casino has balconies inside," Alex said.

"Good! That'll be just fine. Point me to it and I'll do the rest."

We raced to the casino together, lucky that the police hadn't arrived yet. We calmly walked inside and I immediately saw the balcony overlooking the slot machines and blackjack tables. The whole thing looked so elegant. "Whoa. It's a shame they enforce the gambling age law harder than the drinking age law. I'll go up there and get ready. You give me a sign when it's safe to shoot." I sneaked up the stairs and towards the balcony. From there I could see the bountyhead: a hat-wearing, trigger-happy guy. I assembled my gun as quickly and quietly as possible and waited for an opening.

I wasn't some two-bit bounty hunter anymore. I was under command of who could be a legend someday. Just like my father. When he was under a great gambling debt he took his sniper rifle and collected the money cowboy style. One day he decided that I should follow in his footsteps just in case something similar should happen to me or my mother. Of course my mother left us when she found out that Dad was teaching her lovely daughter how to be a half-criminal. It didn't help any that I decided that if I was going to be a guy I should sort of look the part. But nothing bad happened that made me take up the rifle. I just looked up to my father.

I snapped back to my senses as Gregory approached the hatter. I supposed that he was the only one holding up the casino; there were no cronies. I kept my sights on the guy's leg. I had recently acquired bullets that didn't penetrate all the way to the bone. It just caused the victim some sharp pain. I would shoot there and then his arms. This is it. Don't lose control...

[Mystic_clown]

Nicholas Madigan
-----------------------------
The hatter grinned as the last guard fell to the ground unconcious. They were going to live, Nicholas wasn't one to kill people when he can help it.

"Now then," he said as if nothing happened, "Where were we? Ah, yes. Everyone, put your stuff in the hat!"

However, noone was going to get the chance as two people burst into the room. Judging by their weaponry, hatter can only think of one thing.

Cowboys.

One, obviously the leader, look at Nicholas, then to the downed guards, then back to him.

"Impressive," he said, smirking slightly. The hatter gave a humble bow to this comment.

"Why thank you," he said grinning.

The cowboy looked over him again before continueing.

"Judging by your outfit, you're that criminal calling himself The Mad Hatter, correct?"

Nicholas nodded.

"You're correct."

Then something caught the hatter's eye. Someone on the balcony, a sniper.

"It's nice of you to show up," Nichoas said as he kicked down on the table, sending his hat into the air, "You're just in time for the party."

He knelt down and caught the hat.

"But I'm afraid that tea wont be available this evening!"

And with that, the hatter leaped into hte air...

...just as a gunshot rang out and the sniper's bullet harmlessly hit the table.

Nicholas flicked his wrists, revealing his guns as he came down for a landing.

Let's party!


Let the fight begin!

[Dr.McNinja]

Gregory didn't need V to tell him who this guy was, he had made enough of a reputation for himself that Gregory recognized him by sight. He'd be worth a good amount, to say the least. Chaos broke loose as the mark leaped into the air the second before Nia's bullet struck where he had been. In a flash, Gregory had his guns drawn, Oath, an extremely large pistol, in his left hand and Honor, a smaller machine pistol, in his right. As the Hatter came for a landing, guns in hand, Gregory traced a line of fire in front of him with Honor, "You move another inch and it'll be your legs next Hatter. You've got a sniper behind you who's still got a perfect line of sight on your back, and me in front. And let me tell you, you really don't want to get in a gunfight with me....understand?"

If this went to a true shootout, it could get ugly. Gregory had little doubt in his skills but he didn't want repairs for the casino being taken out of his bounty. Hopefully Alex'd be able to throw a suprise into the mix. For the moment though, Gregory kept talking, "You're outnumbered and your opponents are as good as they come. You're not going to win Hatter."

The mark's smile widened, "Oh really? I know gun-fu!"

Gregory rased Oath to point at the mark's face, it's size making the gesture quite intimidating, "And I know how to shoot you in the face. Care for for me to demonstrate?

The Mad Hatter, wanted in multiple systems for multiple crimes. Bounty, four hundred thousand woolong alive, two hundred thousand dead. Known to be skillful with firearms as well as some archaic form of martial arts.

(OOC: I don't know how strong the woolong is, so lemme know if that's too big a bounty or too small of one for a well known criminal)

[kawaiispinel]

~Alex(M)~

Damn, we're in a tight spot...

A little early for cynicism, Alex...

I suppose that was true. This guy may have been tougher than most of the other bountyheads I've taken, but Demaske was handling himself like a pro out there from what I could see on the various computer screens that gave me every angle I could ever want or need on the ground level of the casino in the control room. The security boys had apparently ditched the area in the midst of the chaos, leaving it open for me and my baby to operate in. I had locked the door and plugged my laptop into the mainframe, occasionally glancing up at the screens. At the moment, Demaske seemed to have the upper hand, but that was the thing with bountyheads- you never knew when you really had the upper hand, or they were just letting you believe you had the upper hand. I could see Nia on one of the screens, waiting for a cue with her sniper rifle at the ready.

I typed in a series of commands on my laptop. All at once everything on the screens went dark- not because of a system failure, but merely because the cameras couldn't see anything. I had successfully cut the power from the main part of the building, leaving only the cameras, the loudspeakers, and the room I was in fully operational. The emergency lights kicked on, casting an eerie red glow on the scene, illuminating Demaske and his quarry, neither one of them seemed very fazed by the sudden darkness, but the noise in the background seemed to suggest that most of the casino's other occupants were very much fazed.

I breathed deeply. "Don't psyche yourself out, Alex. Don't get cocky, and above all... Don't let the pressure get to you."

I typed another set of system commands on my computer and pulled a microphone out of my quentessential "bag of tricks" and hooked it up. Showtime... I leaned over the microphone and spoke, knowing my voice would be blaring over the loudspeakers inside the main room of the casino as I spoke.

"If you know what's good for you, pal," I said loudly and clearly into the microphone, "you'd surrender. I have control over every electronic device in this building, there's still a sniper somewhere in the vincinity, and you have a gun in your face... Did I mention that I have every electronic device in this building under my control?"

[Bulbasaur4]

[color=silver]
All this action makes a perfect scene for Xvinic... mwhahaha...



Name: Xvinic
Age: 31
Class: Fugitive
Blood Type: A
Physical Description: Xvinic, at first glance, looks suspicious even amongst the people of the day and age. He stands fairly tall, about 6’4 and has a extremely defined and muscular build. He stands proud and tall with an air of deadly grace, however his broad shoulders and powerful stride give the appeal that he’s not only fast, but quite strong. His skin is normal in tone- not too pale but not very tan and his left eye is green while his right remains silver. His hair is cut at a medium length so that a few strands straggle along his eye line and the back of his hair is cute short enough to fluff upwards in all its blood-red auburn glory. He wears fitting black pants with dark gray boots. His boots are hidden underneath the end parts of his pants (where they lose some for the form) and match his shirt which is sleeveless and skin-tight. However, over this shirt he wears a simplistic crimson-red jacket that covers both arms and collars back at the wrists, where both of his hands are gloved in black. Upon his face is a crescent scar that goes over his right eye and if he were to take off his jacket, there would be a similar scar around his shoulder blade. He also has a large wolf tattoo upon his left bicep all the way to his forearm.
Personality: Xvinic is the type of person you never want to run into- in any situation. He lives to do his business, and he would be a pain in the ass if he didn’t kill you first. He doesn’t seem to have emotions for anything… and rarely does he hinder to anyone. He’s cold, ruthless and finds a glint of happiness with the anger and despair of others. He has a knack for striking fear into others with his words and his pure appearance along- not only that, but his reputation gives him a good backup as well. He really, really hates happy gung-ho people. While he doesn’t usually just go about killing just anyone, he might make an exception for gung-ho happy people.
Affiliation: Syndicate
Weapon Specialty: Well, he usually likes to think of himself as a weapon, but his speed allows for him to wield a few daggers. While he does have a regular pistol, he has never been seen to use it. He likes using his arm a lot too.

Ship: Faira – A small ship that packs a punch.

Other: Xvinic lost his arm and eye in an explosion from a terrorist when he was younger. Because of this, Xvinic has a synthetic/robotic right eye and a mechanical right arm (including parts of the shoulder). He always keeps his right arm covered and gloved so most don’t realize this until it is a bit too late… and a nice metallic arm makes a good weapon.



Xvinic
.: Male | Under Syndicate Hire :.



Xvinic leaned back against the brick wall, his shoulder blades pressed firmly into it while his back arched lightly. His eyes were closed for a moment as he enhaled a deep breath while smirking slightly as three figures eventually went by him. He hadn't planned for the "Mad Hatter" to get caught... or perhaps he did. It really hadn't mattered to him either way... the guy was a nut job but he was a great distraction for the time being. A man like that could be a useful chess piece to play with, when used carefully. In anycase, Xvinic heard quite a bustle of noise from the casino and eventually he knew it was time to step in. Even a lunatic has hard times getting out of a situation.

Entering the casino, his silver eye easily adjusted to the sudden change. Glancing about, the caculations ran through his eyes swiftly... monitoring all the cameras that were about along with a few electrical 'nuisances.' With drawing a few small throwing daggers (and by few, I mean five), Xvinic cleanly threw one dagger into every camera he walked near. He knew the precise point at which to throw the dagger to cut off the video feed, which was perfect for him. And of course, any electrical device that looks suspicious he would merely walk by and crush a particular 'crucial point' with his hand. He wasn't planning to do this through the whole casino- oh no- he was simply heading towards teh Mad Hatter and his new found companions.

By the time he had reached the Mad Hatter, he instantly gazed upwards to see a figure with a rifle- an assasin, and of course there was the cowboy who was pointing a gun straight at the Mad Hatter's face. With a few silent throws, he had disabled the remaining cameras in the room. He wasn't fond of videos. Panic seemed to fill the criminal's features, knowing there really wasn't any way out of this. This panic only increased when Xvinic stepped forward.
"Heh... good work." Xvinic said gruffly, which instantly caused the man to turn and look at Xvinic, all while keeping a careful eye on the Mad Hatter. Xvinic didn't make it uncomfortalbe however- instead he walked to the side of the Mad Hatter. He remained unsmiling and completely calm as he did this, staring straight at the cowboy whom he knew to be Demaske, due to the fact that Xvinic spent a great deal of time researching Cowboys that perhaps could become a target for him in the future. Xvinic however was hard to identify, being that he usually didn't like publicity.
"Who are you..." Demaske asked, looking slightly confused and yet feeling threatened. Xvinic grabbed the Mad Hatter with his right hand. The Mad Hatter tried to free himself from the death hold that Xvinic had upon his neck, but he found it rather painful and swiftly decided better on it.
" I am William Farce, and we have had a bounty on this man for a long time. I'm glad to see him finally put into a stalemate... i almost would have never gotten here on time." With that, Xvinic threw a black bag straight at Demaske's feet. It had been in his left hand and it was quite heavy.
"400,000 woolong I believe. You'll find that some of it is in cash, while a majority of it is in cards. I hope you don't mind... things get sloppy these days."
With that Xvinic started to take a few steps back, yanking the Mad Hatter with him.
"Wait!" Demaske swiftly opened the bag, a bit shocked and perhaps baffled by the sudden appearance of Xvinic. It didn't take long for himi to figure out the money wasn't really in there... and he quickly pointed his gun upwards but Xvinic and the Mad Hatter had dashed off. (well, the Mad Hatter was sort of dragged off.)

A shot had rung out however, some one had been ready. Having prepared for it, Xvinic's eye swiftly messaged his right arm as it rose upwards and a large deflective ping rang through the air. Xvinic only flashed a grin to the firee as they disappeared down a corridor.

"Who..who are you!" The Mad Hatter said angrily, as Xvinic paid not much attention to him.
"You need not know."
"They'll catch up." The Mad Hatter spoke again, as Xvinic released his grip off of his neck.
"Doubt that. This casino has many hidden passage ways, not all are under camera. Here..." A dagger was thrown at another camera. "Be useful and shoot those things."

With that, Xvinic led the Mad Hatter out of the casino and into another alleyway. A few minutes later and they had run into a different part of the city. Finally the Mad Hatter stopped and looked straight at Xvinic.
"I could kill you." He said with a bit of glee, as Xvinic raised a brow and almost smiled.
"I doubt that. Besides, I have a proposition for you where some good cash- far better than that casino, could be in order. However, if you'd rather try killing me... go ahead."
With that, Xvinic turned around and started to head into yet another alleyway where he had a temporary apartment.





[ Sorry for that... but you guys were ganging up on Mystic too early. lol I know you love Xvinic, you know you love him. ^_~ ]

[Dr.McNinja]

(OOC: Eh, not our fault he practically begged to take on a sniper, marksman, and hacker all at once....but I see the point :p Oh, and what was in the bag? It was heavy you said but obviously there wasn't any money.)

"Damn...Alex, try to get some of the exterior cameras up, see if you can spot where they went. Nia? Come on down, they're gone."

Careless of you to believe him

"Hey, customers have been known to show up like that before. There'll be another chance."

Gregory twirled his guns once and replaced them in their holsters. Waiting for Nia who arrived shortly, her gun once again in its bag, Gregory spoke for a moment to the casino owner who thanked them for at least driving the madman off. Upon Nia's arrival, her and Gregory marched up to the security room where Alex had situated himself. The youth was packing away his laptop as they entered and he shook his head sadly at them, obviously the mark was long gone, "Don't worry kid, they get away sometimes. You two were good though, really good. Those shots were right on Nia, both of those guys just got lucky. For now though, lets head back to the Vendetta, we'll find us another bounty soon enough and I'll bet you anything the Hatter'll either pop up again somewhere or will try to come after us eventually. Either way we'll get him."

The group exited the casino, pushing through the crowd that had gathered in front of the establishment, shrugging off any cowboy fans that tried to latch on to them, and made their way to the Vendetta's dock. Gregory could hear the indrawn breaths of his partners and smiled at the gleaming ship in front of them, its inverted chevron shape and curving wings marking a graceful outline under the intense dock lights, "I told you she was as good as they come. Grab anything you need from wherever you live here, who knows when we'll be back? Take any room you want and get moved in, they're all mostly the same until you spruce them up a bit, and meet me in the dorsal lounge. It's hard to get lost, everything's connected like the spokes of a wheel, just follow a hallway til you get to the lounge. I'll get you up to speed on the ship when you get there and we then can try to earn ourselves some money. Welcome to the crew"

With that, Gregory marched up the ramp of his ship, his steps echoing off the metal. Stopping at the top, he turned and raised a hand, "Oh, and until I get your retinal patterns and whatnot, don't try to get into any restricted areas. V won't take kindly to it"

[classy_cat18]

Nia Windfall
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Clothes, ammo, pictures..." I mentally checked off each one while I searched my room and put needed things into my suitcases. I lived alone in a small but cozy apartment so hardly anyone would miss me when I left.

I lifted my slightly heavy bags and walked to the door, not anticipating who would be on the other end. Dad was on the other side with a package and a smile. "Going somewhere, Nia?" he asked me kindly.

I stopped, feeling guilty for forgetting to say goodbye before I left. I stuggled to look at Dad's slightly aged face. "I'm sorry, Dad. I'm leaving for new opportunities. I'm part of a crew now. I'm going to be a great cowboy like you."

Dad chuckled at my slightly risen enthusiasm. "You have great ambitions, just like me when I was your age. But despite your physical strength, you are still emotionally delicate."

I groaned. "Daaad, I can do this. You're making me feel like a child. I'm old enough to stand on my own two feet."

He scratched his head and chuckled again. "If you think you're so mature then go ahead. But if you need anything..."

"I can do this on my own," I interrupted. I gave him an angry look and then brightened up. It was hard to be angry at my father. "I'll send you an e-mail every now and then."

"Good. I have your new tranquilizer darts for your rifle." He handed me the package and left. I followed him out of the apartment building but once we were on the sidewalk we went our separate ways.

I solemnly walked back to the Vendetta and picked out a room. It was the size of my bedroom back at the apartment. I unpacked everything except my gun and ammo and went to take a shower. After that I went to the lounge where Gregory and Alex were waiting for me. "So, what's the first thing we do?" I asked them.

OOC: Not as good as I thought.

[kawaiispinel]

~Alex (M)~

I couldn't believe how badly my first hit with Demaske had gone... Not to mention what a beating I had taken from that guy who had gotten the Hatter out of the fray. He had taken out my only weapons without even a second thought. Just one right after the other. It was unsettling to say the least. I'd have to watch myself around this guy if we ever met him again. I shuddered at the thought. Without my computer skills, I was useless in a fight. In fact, I'd only used a gun a few times, and all those times....

No. I couldn't think of that now. I shook my head, shaking away the bad memories like they were an awful taste in my mouth. I had work to do. I had to keep my head clear and my abilities honed. The next hit would be better and I'd show everyone that I really am a force to be reckoned with when it comes to hacking and computers. No one messes with Alexander S. Aishling and gets away with it. Absolutely no one.

I smiled, trying to force my cocky demeanor back into place. It wouldn't come, however. I sighed, realizing that I'd used up all my manic energy and was getting back into the "bad place" again. That had to be why all those bad memories I'd tried to hide these past six years kept coming back to me all of a sudden.

I tried my best to ignore the depression coursing through my veins as I walked the streets of Mars. Demaske and Nia needn't know that I'd only just arrived here yesterday on a small freighter. For all they knew I was saying goodbye to family or something. The fact was I hadn't even gotten a hotel room during the course of my stay here.

There was a pay phone on the corner and I decided to stop at it, but not before shorting out the video feed. I dialed long distance and listened to it ring for a few moments before a young boy's voice answered the phone.

"Hello?"

Taylor. My little brother. He was six when I left which would make him twelve now. I wonder what my mom's told him about the older brother he once looked up to. Nothing but horrible lies, probably... Although the truth would probably be more scathing.

"Hello?"

I didn't breathe, wanting to savor this moment. I heard a woman's voice in the background suddenly speak up.

"Who is it, Taylor?"

"I dunno, Mom."

"Give me the phone."

That was my mother. Full of disdain as always. I wondered if she treated Taylor like she used to treat me. I doubted it. Taylor was always her favorite.

"Hello?" I heard her say. I chose that moment to hang up.

I gathered up what little I had and made my way to the Vendetta, my new home. Here's hoping it'd be a better home than the one I left behind.

[Dr.McNinja]

Gregory sat on one of the couches in the Vendetta's lounge. The lights were dimmed as Gregory's new crew entered, the dock lights shining through the uncovered windows providing plenty of light. Gregory perused a datacard on one of the room's consoles as he and Nia waited for Alex who soon entered and sat down himself. Snapping off the screen, Gregory pushed at the machine which allowed it to swivel away on its hinged arm. Smiling, Gregory leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "So...we have a few choices on where we're going and who we'll be hunting depending on what you two are up to. There's a good number of smaller bounties around Mars itself, anywhere from a few thousand woolong up to a hundred or so thousand. The bigger game seems to be congregating around Venus or the Asteroid Belt where it's easier to hide. I'd prefer to head towards the belt, less chance we'll have to stop on Venus that way, not a place you really want to hang around too long."

Alex spoke up as he looked around, interested in the plentiful technology that surrounded them, "I haven't met a system I can't crack yet, no ship or base's computer scares me."

Nia replied as well, "I'm a good shot, you can rely on me."

Smiling, Gregory leaned back and put his arms behind his head, "Well then it's settled, we'll head for the Belt. Plenty of places to hide there which means the bounties'll be fast coming and rich. V? Take us out.

Very well sir.

A soft whine began to build deep within the Vendetta as its enormous engines began to rev up. Soon the whine was a roar and, as smooth as could be wished for, the great ship floated off of its landing struts and out of the dock. Under the capable guidance of V, Gregory as his crew were soon in orbit and sitting in line for the main hyperspace gate towards the Belt. Traffic was heavier than when Gregory had arrived and the wait was going to be at least an hour until Gregory had to take the controls himself and lead the Vendetta through hyperspace. With one arm, Gregory pulled his console back over to him and looked through the semi-transparent screen at his crew, "You guys want a tour or something before we jump? I need to get you cleared for full access anyway and I might as well let you see where you'll be living for a while at the same time."

[kawaiispinel]

~Alex (M)~

Demaske got Nia and I cleared for full access on V, as he called his ship, and repeated his offer of giving us a tour. Nia seemed willing, but I felt a strong desire to lie down so I politely declined and retreated back to my bunk, still feeling listless and utterly useless as a human being.

I had a nice cabin. Very comfortable, very pleasant. I settled down onto the bed and picked up my laptop. Demaske had promised me root access, but it would probably have to wait for a bit, but I didn't mind. I didn't know how long he planned to keep me, so it would probably be better for him to wait. Who knows? He might find a better hacker than me in the belt.

"La Boheme," I said, addressing my computer by her given name despite the fact that addressing a computer with no A.I. made one look a little insane, "let's see what kind of bountyheads we'll be up against in the asteroid belts."

A quick search provided me with a rather lengthy list of names of suspected fugitives who could be hiding there. Demaske wasn't kidding when he said there would be choice fugitives hiding there. It was the motherload! My mood improved a little bit at the thought of taking out my depression on a few unlucky scumbags, and made a mental note of all the ones that I felt I would get the most joy out of tying up in electrical wiring.

One individual in particular really caught my eye, however. It was 600, 000 woolong bounty. A sociopath (or maybe a psychopath, judging by the crimes) by the name of Halim Hakira who was apparently attempting to recreate murders that were committed years ago back with Earth was still a habitible planet. Among the list of famous long-ago killers whose crimes he had copy-catted were names such as Bundy, Gacy, Domner, Manson, etc.- This guy had obviously done his homework! It made me kind of queasy to think of facing him one day, but here was a guy who needed to be put down and quickly at that. The money was good, he was in our area... He was a perfect target. I didn't know how Demaske would react to chasing down a character like this, but I was up for it if he and Nia were.

I printed the page with Hakira's information on it and walked back out onto the ship to find Nia and Demaske.


OOC: There, now the crew of the Vendetta have a random NPC to pursue. ^^;;;

[Mystic_clown]

Nicholas Madigan - The Mad Hatter
----------------------------------------------------
Nicholas watched the man's retreating back. His offer intrigued him, he intrigued him.

Finally curiousity got too much for him.

"What's this offer of yours?"

The man stopped and looked back. The hatter could see a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Tell me something," he said, "Have you heard of the Red Dragon Syndicate?"

Yeah, he had heard of them. A criminal organisation that had just gotten back into power. He could guess what the offer was.

"You want to recruit me don't you?" he asked.

The man chuckled.

"You're a sharp one, just as I thought," he replied, "Yes, I do want to recruit you. A man of your, talents, could be useful for the syndicate."

The hatter htought for a moment. Opportunities like this don't come to often.

But then again, he always worked best alone.

"I"m not sure," he thought out loud, "I normally work alone. But then again..."

He had expected the man to threaten him, to try and force him to join. But instead, he just chuckled softly.

"Take your time," he said, "I didn't expect you to make your mind up so easily." He walked up to him and handed him a sheet of paper. It had a phone number on it.

"Contact me when you've made you decison," he said, turning to walk away, "I expect it in three days."

Upon hearing no reply, he turned back around to find the hatter was gone. All that was left was a tag with the words 'This Style in 10/6s'. The man just smiled sinisterly.

"He's just like they say he is. Perfect."

[Dr.McNinja]

"Halim Hakira eh?"

Gregory looked at the printout that Alex had arrived carrying as Nia and he had exited the engineering sector of the ship. Nia had been excited to see the state of the art machinery that ran the V, cheap engines were a pet peeve of engineers everywhere, and he had planned to swing by the bridge next. Looked like they were heading that way either way now, "Looks good, it'll be a good first bounty and'll help hold us over for the time being. Might as well head out now, we were just heading for the bridge"

In a few moments they entered the large command center of the ship, the lights automatically brightening as they walked in and consoles beginning to come online. Throwing off his coat and hat, both which landed neatly on a protruding hook on the wall near the door, Gregory sighed happily as he sank into his pilot's seat at the center of the bridge. One hand began flicking switches, getting the Vendetta prepped for launch, while the other pointed to a console sitting to his right and against the wall, "That's the main computing station Alex, you can take it if you want, it's set up better than most of the other terminals on the ship."

As Alex moved to his station, Gregory pointed to another console group, "You can access a lot of the engineering resources from there, but you might want to head back to the sector itself if you're more hands on with your work."

Satisfied that his crew were comfortable in their roles, Gregory turned back to the hyperspace gate that was rapidly approaching. A whole new future was out there now, waiting to be taken. With a grin, Gregory pushed forwards the lever that directed the Vendetta to enter the gate and launch intself into hyperspace. Over the increasing whine of the engines, Gregory pronounced, "There are endless possibilities out there you two, time to claim a few for our own!"

Quite touching sir...