S1: Ep1- The Most Dangerous Aim

Started by noseatbelts, September 18, 2019, 08:44:28 am

Rory Mayfield

Location: The Courtesan, Galley

Rory, for one, was relieved that they hadn't been able to find any alcohol on board. He was trapped on the ship with two of the scariest members of the crew -- both scary for different reasons, but scary nonetheless -- and booze would not help the situation at all, based on his (admittedly limited) experience. And on top of all that, Sparrow was the pilot, so surely it would be a bad idea for him to get drunk, right? Rory still didn't know what, exactly, the shirtless giant's plans for the evening entailed, expect that it wasn't Battleship, and he was actually, legitimately a little disappointed about that. He liked Battleship. It was one of the few things he could beat Shay at on a consistent basis.

But Shay was not here, so Rory had to turn to his second best friend in the world for company.

"You like that, bǎo bèi? Feels good, huh?"

He ran the toothbrush gently along Annie's shell, and the tortoise wiggled her butt happily in response. Her bath was long overdue on account of all the recent excitement and re-locating, and since the bathrooms were a little too cramped for comfort and Rory hadn't been able to find a wash bowl on board, he'd decided to take advantage of the mostly empty ship situation and take the operation to the galley.

Now Rory was hunched over the sink where Annie waded in knee-deep (for her tiny tortoise knees) water, leaving a faint trail of dirt in her wake. His mother certainly wouldn't approve of him bathing  his pet in the kitchen sink, but he supposed -- and hoped -- that the Miller clan might be a little less fussy about that. Besides, he would carefully scrub down the sink and counters after he was done -- with bleach if it came down to that. So... no harm done, right?

Despite telling himself this, Rory sure hoped nobody walked in on him right now.
Dialogue color: pink


December 03, 2019, 02:10:03 pm #21 Last Edit: December 03, 2019, 02:16:43 pm by noseatbelts
Location: Courtesan Galley

As the old saying goes, if you wish in one hand, and hold a tortoise in the other, see which fills up first. Or something like that. Rory was soon met with company, despite his fond hopes for privacy. Sparrow, still sans shirt and shoes, but with his hair now in a messy bun tied up atop his head, not so much entered the galley as floated. His well-toned body had an unnatural grace that belied his size and if Rory hadn't been keeping an eye on the door, Sparrow might have snuck on him, though that wasn't his intention. "Hey there, little mate. What you-" The hippie stopped when he saw Annie. His eyes went wide. A finger, outstretched at the end of his muscular arm, pointed. "Agrionemys horsfieldii." He said in a barely contained whisper. "She's a ripper, mate. A real beaut'." Sparrow set his chin on the edge of the sink and stared down at Annie for what felt like a long time. "You wanna get high?"

Mason Miller

Team Bravo
Location: Practice Hunt - 5km from The Party and Team Alpha

Bert Surname.

Mason rolled it through his mind once again and tossed a sideways glance at his youngest brother. As nom de guerres went he wasn't sure that he had ever heard a worse one. Aside from perhaps John Smith, which was more boring than bad. Though he had known a John Smith when he was in the Ministry of Defense. He had been a terribly boring fellow. An analyst with bad teeth and even worse field instincts. Mason remembered the look of surprise on his face when John had been shot.

Bert Surname.

It was writ large at the top of his invitation and the security guard had looked at him strangely. "Sur-nam-ay." Mason had said, over pronouncing the word. "Italian." The guard had shrugged like he didn't care either way. An invitation was an invitation and he wasn't paid enough to parse out all of these rich folks' crazy names.

Bert Surnamé and Worthington Birtwistle of Buckhamshire were both let in without issue and allowed to mingle with this most elite of exclusivity.

Once inside the party, Mason clocked three things. The monstrosities that they were meant to be shooting (and Mason suspected it would be a service to the 'verse at large to put these things out of their miseries), their target, plain as day and clearly not going anywhere, and the bar, which was a site for sore eyes. Mason had no interest in game hunting, human or otherwise, and so he bee-lined for the booze. "Scotch. Double. Neat. Quickly." As he waited for his drink, Mason opened up a comm-link to his siblings at the estate. "Rutledge is down here, ladies." He said with a droll smile, nodding his thanks to the bartender once his drink arrived. He took a big drink and motioned he'd like another before continuing. "So enjoy yourselves up there while Tatters and I wrap this up."
Dialogue Color - DodgerBlue

Rory Mayfield

December 08, 2019, 12:54:20 pm #23 Last Edit: December 08, 2019, 12:58:29 pm by Rory Mayfield
Location: The Courtesan, Galley

"Hey there, little mate. What you-"

Yes, Rory was keeping an eye on the door, just not at the moment Sparrow happened to enter. The boy jumped and spun around to face the intruder, only slightly relaxing when he saw it was the crewmate less likely to get upset about him making a mess in the galley. Still shirtless, apparently. Why was he still shirtless? Rory wished he'd put a shirt on. The pilot's naked torso seemed to emit a force field of heat and b.o. that he'd rather not get caught in.

The man stopped in his tracks, eyes fixed on Annie. Rory waited with bated breath. Would Sparrow share his father's first reaction to her, i.e. thinly veiled disgust? Or worse, maybe he'd crack a joke about turtle soup. Rory had heard that one many times, and it never stopped being the most upsetting thing in the 'Verse.

Instead, the unthinkable happened.

"Agrionemys horsfieldii. She's a ripper, mate. A real beaut'."

Rory blinked in surprise. Of all the people on the Courtesan, Sparrow may have been the last person he'd expected to know the Latin name of Annie's species, and that was saying a lot, since he didn't expect anybody to know it. Like, anybody anybody, not just anybody on this ship in particular. He'd learned to not get his hopes up, but they were very easily ignited by the smallest sparks.

"Thank you. I mean, she is, isn't she?" His chest swelled with pride, like a proud papa's.

"So...you like testudines, Mr. Hargrove?" Sparrow didn't answer, didn't even seem to hear him, too mesmerized by the 'beaut' of a specimen before him. Rory was so caught up in the thrill of finding someone who liked his pet that for a second he forgot why he'd wanted to avoid the pilot in the first place.

"You wanna get high?"

Oh, right.

Is he asking me or Annie? Rory wasn't quite sure. Either way, the answer was a resounding "Oh, um, uh, er... I think Annie needs her beauty rest, and I, uh, I've... got... homework."

That was a lie. Yes, Rory had been assigned homework; staying on top of his studies was one of his mothers conditions for letting him stay on the Courtesan. However, he was already pretty much caught up for the time being. After all, he'd had plenty of time to devote to his reading, between all the not-being-allowed-to-attend-any-of-the -family-meetings he'd been doing lately.

Avoiding eye contact with the aggressively affable turtle-watcher crouching beside the sink, Rory scooped up his little bǎo bèi and wrapped her in a towel. "I'll just clean up here real quick and then you're free to... get high." His voice cracked under the strain of having to force the words out, as if speaking the name of the activity was as incriminating as partaking in it.
Dialogue color: pink

Martin Miller

January 09, 2020, 12:49:47 pm #24 Last Edit: January 09, 2020, 01:05:48 pm by Martin Miller
Team Bravo
Location: Practice Hunt - 5km from The Party and Team Alpha

Captain Miller tried to stifle his shock and disgust at the genetic monstrosities and straightened his already straight tie. Looking over at the bar he saw Mason sidling up to the bar and, son of a bitch, the target. While this was all really weird and faux-posh, Miller felt like they'd really struck gold on this job. An air of confidence washed over him, as he cleared his throat to address some of the party-goers.

"Try and isolate that wanker and I'll cause a different scene for these other wankers to worry about."

Moving towards a large cluster of the guests who hadn't started pre-hunting yet, they were discussing one of the guests recent vacation.

"-as I was saying, I just got back and you really do have to visit Greenleaf this time of year its simply..."

Snatching a flute of champagne from a passing servant mid stride, he jumped into a conversation with some assembled guests. "Worthington" interjected with a jovial tone.

"Cold and bloody windy sure!"

He nudged the aristocrat with his elbow.

"But that Companion house is open year-round idnit?"

As they recoiled back in shock, and one of them stifled a laugh, his wife stepped forward to slap him in the face.


Marty winced then took a sip of his champagne.

"I'm afraid I haven't been introduced to your vivacious wife or any of your other fine lords and ladies, might I correct that: I am Worthington Birtwistle of Buckhamshire-"

"And I am Eliza Birtwistle. Are you that race car driver pretending to be one of my brothers?"

The Captain's eyes went wide and he stood there for a beat, unsure what to do, taking a long sip of his champagne that turned into finishing the whole thing. As he chugged, he noticed another guest walking up to one of the over-sized cages, and "pre-hunting" it whilst it was defenseless in a cage. The man chuckled as he emptied an entire clip of full auto fire into the beast.

"Heh... Ahh well you know Dad... he sure-"

"Got a vasectomy in 2487! Is that what you were going to say? Hmm?"

All of his previous confidence now washed away he was truly buggered as his well worn cover identity seems to have become a liability and now he was blown.

"That's sooo strange... Would any of you beleive I'm actually licencsed bounty hunter, and my partner is about to arrest a felon you've all been harboring? "

He looked around. No takers.

"Well gorram it, let's do some hunting eh?!!"

Marty tossed his now empty glass to the side and pivoted around, bringing up his rifle, aiming towards one of the caged faux-giraffes. His crosshairs shifted from the beast's head, and then down to the lock on the cage. He let out a three round burst at the cages which were a good fifty yards away. Two grazed the ho-raffe and the third struck home, disabling the local. The now enraged beast bashed its head into the cage's door and then stumbled out into the party, rearing up like the over-sized horse it technically was.

The party goers erupted into shouting and some started going for their weapons, but all their ire was still dead focused on Marty and the loose facsimile of a Giraffe.

"Lā shǐ! Grab the target, Mace!"


January 09, 2020, 01:47:48 pm #25 Last Edit: January 09, 2020, 01:56:29 pm by noseatbelts
Team Alpha
Location: The Party at the Main House

Matilda and Millicent were, in a fashion similar to their brothers, not given much trouble at the door to the party. In fact, floozies in finery awed and ooed over the Millers' dresses, and then evaporated back to their empty headed nonsense once they realized neither sister were famously rich. Flutes of sparkling wine carried upon silver serving trays appeared before them, the waiters vanishing as quickly as they came once their offerings were taken or refused.

It was a terribly chaste affair, full of sparse orchestral music and polite conversation, and it wasn't five minutes later that Mason came over their radio. "Rutledge is down here, ladies." Which was quite strange.

It was strange because of who they saw at the party. Penny nudged at her sister, who no doubt didn't need the help spotting Rutledge munching nearby on some hors d'oeuvres.

The Courtesan Galley

Sparrow's eyes went wide. "Homework! Bang on, alright! Got just the thing." He immediately set to work making some tea. "Whenever I did homework back in New Melbourne, my mum would always make me this tea." He paused, the nostalgia thick in his voice and set to bring a tear to his eye. "I'll make ya some. Special family recipe." Sparrow's smile was warm and helpful and hard to say no to.

Team Bravo

Per Martin's "plan"... chaos commenced.

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