New Hokkaido - The Prologue to an Adventure

POSTED BY: DireKtorsSmeagelle
UPDATED: Thursday, February 10, 2005 13:59
VIEWED: 12019
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PUMAMANREDUX

Sunday, January 2, 2005 4:55 AM

Sequence of moves
LOCATION: Reenactment Faire Bar Tent

Barmaid’s move

One of the barmaids approaches Hawk and slaps him on the cheek.
“That’s for not visiting me sooner, Ge-ge”. She has a grin on her face which compliments the looks of this 20 something attractive oriental woman. She is about 5’3” and weighs 105 pounds. She wears a sarong over a tshirt and sandals.

Quentin’s move

Hawk smiles at the woman and takes the slap in stride. He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a rose encased in hard plastic and hands it to her. She takes the item, smiles and then pockets it. He then speaks to the woman. “Hello Myashi. It has been a month or two since the last time we have graced each other’s presence. Been too long but my travels took me far from my main home away from home here in New Hokkaido. Graham meet Myashi .. Myashi meet Graham.“

“I hope you figure out what the story is with your friend Graham. Perhaps Myashi could help you get a few scraps of info. She knows some of what goes on in this fair city”

Myashi’s move

Myashi nods at Graham and then addresses Hawk again “I heard through the grapevine your stint on the Verity ended what .. a few weeks ago? Were you too scared to even cortex me a message. No you weren’t scared. Probably hoping to get a new job quickly before I noticed, eh, Quen, er, Hawk.” Hawk nods and sips his beer again.

Myashi turns to Graham “Next round of drinks is on me”

EOM

Ge-ge = older brother, a term of endearment

(feel free folks (ie Corncobb, other rpers and our Direcktorial Staff) to use Myashi as an information source that may need cash for this service every so often … note - I just checked old moves and they are generic enough so Hawk could be a regular on New Hokkaido and not the touristy type. It did seem he was a tourist until I got the idea for the last sequence))

**************^^^^^^^****************************

email me at: mstiemike2000@yahoo.com

AOL IM: Pumaman38

original Hawk bio at http://www.freewebs.com/mjspages/tempfireflypage.htm

MERCEDESTROY

Tuesday, January 4, 2005 2:55 AM

S. TROY – LOCATION: New Hokkaido, Carstairs Base, Commander Sinclair’s office.

The meeting with the base commander goes as expected. Sinclair is no more pleased to deal with her than anyone ever was; it is normal for them to be considered a disruption in normal routine. Shelby sits across from his desk and stares at him, stoic and unmoving as he gathers his thoughts. It seems to unnerve him.

Finally he clears his throat. “Um. Yes, Ms. Troy. I welcome you to Carstairs Base. I have been instructed to, um, see to your needs, while you are here. You are not restricted to the base – on the contrary it has been suggested that you make yourself well acquainted with the grounds of the Re-enact Faire. I will have a transport vehicle and a driver assigned to your sole use while you are here.”

Shelby nodded. Satisfactory, she now knows where her target will probably be locate-able, and transportation is assured. She will map the fairgrounds and wait for further information. All she knows now is that the powers-that-be have determined that somewhere on New Hokkaido, there is a civilian requiring an extreme solution. Identity is not yet revealed to her – they are awaiting verification of location. For now, she will walk the faire. Sinclair wraps up his little talk. “Well, I think that is it. I trust your stay with us will be agreeable.” He stands and extends his hand towards her. Shelby stands also and stares at the extended hand until he lowers it in confusion. Only then does she raise her eyes to his and growl. "Have the driver at the gate in five minutes.” Shelby pivots and exits the room. She heads for her quarters to acquire some equipment that might come in handy.

Sinclair's aide entered the room after the woman left. The Commander was sitting there, staring at nothing, musing. Billings caught his commander's eye and grinned at him. “You have a private message from Captain Timberlake. He says, as follows … ‘Just give her what she wants, and stay out of her way.’ Does that mean anything to you?”

Sinclair nodded slowly. “Yes, I rather think it does…”

If Justice is the dish, then I am your waitress

CORNCOBB

Wednesday, January 5, 2005 3:15 AM

New Hokkaido Re-enactment Fair

Calbrax's move
Calbrax turns to the barmaid and says'
"I've just arrived here looking for an old friend. But he's been dragged away by the feds on charges of arms smuggling. Knowing him like I do, I doubt he's guilty. Have you heard anything?"

Myashi's move
Myashi smiles and rubs her thumb and fingers together in the universal signal for 'gimme credits'. When Calbrax does so she leans forward across the nbar to whispers to him.
"Weapons were found in the flat of one of the re-enactors. But I've heard rumours that strangers had been seen there the previous night, whilst he was at the bar. When he arrived home the next morning the feds were waiting there for him. That's all I can say."

Calbrax's move
Calbrax nods an acknowledgement to his informant and sips his drink as he ponders his next move.

"Gorramit Mal... I've forgotten my line."

MERCEDESTROY

Wednesday, January 5, 2005 11:57 AM

Back in her room, Shelby collected some necessary items - a boot knife, half a dozen shuriken, her mirrored sunglasses, one of Corvair's specially designed focal disrupter holdout pistols. She verifies that her Ident card is in her arm pocket - that is all the authority she needs to carry her weapons nearly anywhere she chooses. Not that they are required particularly at this time. But they are familiar and she ... needs that right now. And hates that need.

There was no conversation on the way to the Faire. She has nothing to say to the driver that has been assigned to her, and the driver seems disinclined to be friendly. Shelby would rather have driven herself, but a quiet driver is acceptable. She tries hard to suppress her thoughts during the journey, with only limited success. Her life has become so much more – complicated than it used to be. She ponders where the rest of her team/cell is right now. Shelby ‘misses’ Corvair – his analytical superiority and ability to Prog quickly under stress would make her life so much easier now. She never had the opportunity before to notice how much she ‘depended’ on him. It disturbs her. His absence is a distraction she does not need. The other … the one who communicates, the one who hides, the stealthy deviant … Shelby closed her eyes. The other should have had this job – this is her specialty. Shelby will obey – she always obeys. But this time, she is not at all ‘pleased’ with the situation. And once again, she hates that.

The driver lets her off near a decrepit building at the outskirts of the Faire, this being all the closer a vehicle is allowed near the grounds. No matter, she will walk a lot further this day, than to the front entrance. Before the driver leaves, Shelby tells her “Six hours, right here.” before striding off, assuming that the vehicle will be in this spot when she returns.

The building is what remains of an amphitheater. The tent roof is tattered and all but gone. She can scent water from there, a fountain plays tiredly in its center. A crowd has gathered inside, to take advantage of the fountain, and perhaps such shade and seating as remains. There is also a male there on a perch elevated above the surrounding crowd. There is something about him, something she finds curious. Shelby enters the building and approaches the outskirts of the crowd surrounding the speaker. Not too close, she can hear him just fine from further than most.

For a civilian, he is of good size, taller than any of her own teammates. The bald head is familiar enough although the extreme facial hair she finds unappealing – it covers expressions too well and makes males harder to read. Tattoos she does not comprehend at all. But the voice … against her better judgment she stays to listen for a time.

NICOALLEZ
“I would have words for yeh all, if yeh are intrrested in a tale of Lies, Love, Blood, Anger an' th' Murder of entire planets.

Be free ta ask any questions, but yeh ‘member ta be polite is ta be returned th' favor tenfold! Iffn not, yeh better be ready ta heave-to an' take a sit in a shadier place!

Tiz begins wit a sturdy lad and a faire lass, as it always does…”

Shelby listens to his tale for a time. Lies, blood, anger, and the murder of entire planets. Sounds like her existence. Love, has no meaning or interest for her. The tale of the Pilot, and his love affair with his Ship holds no flavor for her. It is not so much the words but the voice that holds her here … it is compelling. As he spins his yarn, she finds herself remembering once again. The storyteller speaks of comrades-in-arms, and ties forged in blood. Shelby remembers a time once – long ago when her original cell was still … alive. They must have been about seven years old. There had been an unstructured afternoon (When they were older, Corvair had once held the opinion that these were tests, to see how they would spend their time.) The three of them had gone into

MERCEDESTROY

Friday, January 7, 2005 11:55 PM

She walked the fairgrounds for hours, noting permanent structures, tents, road layouts, ambush points, danger zones, etc. She identified the fairwards uniforms and some of the plainclothes security. She has noted the slight amount of Alliance security. She witnessed two separate acts of faire justice, meeted out by those who work the fair to those who abuse it. She observed the crowds, the amusements, the booths and a couple of battles. And never covered a third of the grounds. It was going to take days to fully map and memorize the entire, complex layout. But Shelby did not mind, it might be that she has days. And it is something to do, something to take her mind off of ... everything.

Darkness is beginning to fall, and the faire starts to close down. Shelby finds herself near a booth selling fine leathercraft. She has been observing civilians 'shopping' all day, and is absorbing the data, just in case it ever becomes useful. In fact she has stopped to examine a small pouch that looks like a superior method of storing her shuriken than she has now. While analyzing whether or not it would be acceptable behavior to bring one out and see how it fits, she becomes aware that she is under surveillance. She can feel eyes on her ...

Subtlety is not her style. If someone wants to look at her, they can look her in the eye. She is doing nothing unusual, just walking and shopping. Turning slowly she scans for whomever is showing her particular interest. And spots him almost at once. It would be hard not to, on his feet the storyteller is over seven feet tall. He is across the aisle from the booth she is at, leaning nonchalantly against a tent pole. His attention seems equally divided between her and the booth she is at. Interesting. He has scanned beyond her to the interior of the booth for the moment and she examines him once again, taking in the braided hair, the tattoos, and his general air of casual competence. His musculature is clearly visible under the simple leather vest. His movements, what there are of them are completely controlled and precise. She entertains a brief thought – this one would make a fine sparring partner. He might not break so soon. There remains an unsettling familiarity to him that eludes her. He is too striking for her to have forgotten him, even were she capable of forgetting. So she has never seen or scented him before. But something is ... still too alachina familiar.

He scans back towards her direction and pulls her into his awareness once again. She watches him watch her. Shelby has had males watch her before, normally sizing her up as a possible coupling partner; which is as close to an amusing notion as she can entertain - she would sooner perform tension release exercises with an inanimate object as with a civilian. This one is different. Very different. They catch one another's eyes and carefully appraise each other. This is no casual examination; this is the steady, unblinking stare of two predators sizing up a potential opponent. Finally he nods, very faintly - probably not visible to anyone but Shelby. Without quite knowing why, she returns the gesture. He returns his steady gaze to the booth. She might wonder what business he has here, but Shelby is not really curious. It is not Troy business. That is sufficient to ensure she has no interest.

Then her interior clock advises her it is time to return to where her driver will be waiting. This day is over - she can get an earlier start tomorrow. She carelessly drops the pouch back onto the table and pivots sharply towards the direction of the faire entrance. For now, she entertains no more thoughts of the teller of tales - he is of no more importance to her. She turns her head once just to verify he has no further interest in her, only to see him approach the booth she just vacated. Good enough.

Her transport is waiting when she arrives, exactly 6 hours from when she left that exact spot. The return to the base was quiet, and uneventful. Also, good enough.

PUMAMANREDUX

Saturday, February 5, 2005 4:38 AM

Quentins Move
LOCATION: Reenactment Faire Bar Tent

The next few moments contain a flurry of activity. A drunk 'gentleman' hits on Myashi. She's able to keep him at bay with sharp wit for only so long. The Gent goes as far as pawing at Myashi. Quentin has quietly been sipping his drink but acts as the gent prepares to paw Miyashi again. Quentin grabs the gents wrist and asks for an apology to be given and an exit to be made. The gent is none too pleased with the turn of events and wiggles free from Quentin's grasp.

Quentin mentions loudly he does not want to fight but stands up. Quentin puts his hands to his side and the gent swings wildly. Quentin moves gracefully out of his way and the gent smacks into a table, stands straight, and turns back towards Quentin.

The Gent sizes up Quentin and rushes him. Again Quentin dodges the Gent again with seemingly no effort. The Gent hits the bar and Quentin idly picks up his drink. The Gent knocks Quentin's drink from his hand.

Quentin looks at the Gent. Myashi has been serving drinks all this time and other bar patrons are taking bets on the fight.

The Gent eyes Quentin and aims a right cross at Quentin's head. Quentin grabs the guys arm and twists it behind the Gents back. Quentin then speaks to the Gent.

"Do you wish to apolgize now and leave?"

In an anticlimax to the whole floor show the Gent nods, grunts, and does as asked. Quentin lets the Gent go. The Gent then leaves the tent.

Myashi speaks
"Hawk you just pissed of Muldoon."

Quentin speaks "Well he'll have to stay good and pissed, Myashi, as I will be getting a job and off this planet in a day or so ... my ad on the cortex got two bites"

Quentin puts a handheld cortex on the bar
The screen reads:

Firefly Pilot Seeks New Gig

This is a call out from the black. The name is Quentin Hawksworth III. I'm called Hawk by most folks. A few days ago Captain Arnold Browne released me from my position as Pilot and chief bottle washer on the Firefly Class Verity. Captain Browne's reason for my release and that of several others was that he wished to bring fresh blood onto his ship.

Prior to that I served on the Firefly Class Lockheed and the Firefly Class Challenger.

I have fifteen years of pilot experience with ground, air and space faring craft.

During my lifetime I have learned among other things: how to cook, how to fire guns and fight hand-to-hand, handle ship repairs, and use computers.

I can furnish records confirming the service on the Verity, Lockheed, and Challenger as well as military service. Any interested parties can request references from my former captains or I can furnish such documents.

Please respond via cortexmail though this server or leave message at 'Ye Grande Taverne' at the New Hokkaido Re-enact Faire. I will respond as quickly as possible.
---- Quentin Hawksworth III

Quentin shows the ad to Myashi and Graham and then the proof that there have been responses to the message. Quentin then looks over at Graham while Myashi goes back to serving drinks

EOM

**************
bio for Quentin is at: http://www.freewebs.com/mjspages/tempfireflypage.htm

CORNCOBB

Sunday, February 6, 2005 12:47 AM

Calbrax's move
New Hokkaido Re-enactment Faire Bar Tent
Calbrax's pays close attention to Quentin's handheld cortex as he places it on the bar top.
"If you haven't settled on a new employer yet, Hawk, you might be interested to know that I could do with someone of your talents on board my ship: Anubis," he says. "It's a pretty small vessel and I've been getting by manning it single-handed, but fact is it often needs repairs, and your piloting and gunslinging expertise could come in handy in some a' the scrapes I find myself in. I can afford to pay you quite well. You in?"

"Gorramit Mal... I've forgotten my line."

PUMAMANREDUX

Monday, February 7, 2005 4:41 AM

Quentins Move
LOCATION: Reenactment Faire Bar Tent

"tell you what graham" Quentin chuckles
"how about we take a tour of your craft tonight and I'll make some repairs or somesuch. I'll have to think on this offer, 'kay?"

[EOM]

**************
http://www.freewebs.com/mjspages/tempfireflypage.htm

CORNCOBB

Thursday, February 10, 2005 1:27 PM

Calbrax's move
New Hokkaido re-enactment faire bar tent

Calbrax nods and finishes his pint.
"Sounds good," he says. "i believe it's my round. What you having?"

"Gorramit Mal... I've forgotten my line."

PUMAMANREDUX

Thursday, February 10, 2005 1:59 PM

Quentins Move
LOCATION: Reenactment Faire Bar Tent

Quentin thinks briefly "I'll have a beer then we can head out."

*************
'Trust me - I know what I'm doing!' - Sledge Hammer
**************
http://www.freewebs.com/mjspages/tempfireflypage.htm

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