(( OOC bit first .. good to have you back ....OK char recap ...
Georgia Innmoth ..mutant corrupter AR/Kin...left the group to deal with personal issues in char's background ..real reason I was so poor are playing a corrupter ..and by the time I has though up a new char Brit left .. and I still cant play a corrupter well .. I play it to much like a blaster ....in the end I dropped the char as the hyenas was no more ..
However if you are plaining a reform , I would love to return , I have still got the char name .
End of OOC bit ))
Sometime ago
Georgia had spent many months , all her cash and the last of her fake passports hanging on to the trail .. the small farm was too close to the Mexican town of Chetumal and the boarder with Belize , for her to get away with mass gun-play ... she signalled the others to pull back ...
sorry guys looks like a no go , your pay is here , I will see you another time .. now get well away before tomorrow .... the three grim faced mercs picked up their envelopes and left ...
grabbing a camo net Georgia made her way back to the hill overlooking the farm , settling into the freshly scrapped hollow , she slide the low light scope onto the rifle ....
12/09/2008, Early Evening, Dockside, Port Oakes
the Watcher made a note on the corner of a newspaper , face and time , and then got back to sorting this morning haul of recyc ...
the five dollar bill she accepted was a dirt stained as her fingers , the newspaper page that she passed to the Collector slightly cleaner ... wait came the Collectors strained voice .. what colour pants did you say he was wearing ...
its not being paranoid when you have the scars to prove they really are out to get you , which is why the Collectors message passed through four text services , three emails , and a good old fashion dead letter drop ....before falling into the hands of Georgia ...
shXt , I wonder if he knows how many people are on the look out for him , damm I do owe him ...Ok men we are braking cover .. if they want us they can come looking .. but I think we may have a new old friend to lend a hand ....we have been hiding too long .. gather the gear meet at the shed tomorrow .. I have a personal meeting to set up .....
((next time Big Game sees Sal at the Wayward Wench there will be a anon message , contain just enough info to ID Georgia ..and say long time no see ..can we meet ))
((Heeeeey Georgie-girl, long time! Will be in contact soon, but for now the Peddler...))
{12/09/2008, Early Evening, Croatoa}
The drive back from Providence had been very tiring, but the Peddler couldnt be happier. The last week the Peddler had spent upstate had proven to be extremely profitable. Much of the stock shed been hauling in the glossy black eighteen wheeler had sold, making obscene profits, and doing much to redeem her in the eyes of her Eso-Tech superiors. In fact the more she thought about it, the happier she was that the Hyenas went belly up, and she was able to return to her old role as Eso-Techs travelling sales representitve.
After a few more minutes of driving the Peddler finally reached her destination. Easing the brakes on, the black semi slowly cut its way through the notorious Croatoan mists, and came to a halt outside a large pair of wooden barn doors. The two doors were then flung wide open, and standing in the doorway was a fairly non-descript middle-aged man wearing grey overalls, and carrying a clipboard. As the man approached the Peddler climbed out of her seat, and leapt out of the truck cab ready to meet him.
So what have you got for me this time?
Have a look for yourself. The man said as he passed the clipboard over to the Peddler, who wasted no time in scanning the documentation attached to it.
Is that it?
Fraid so. Those Eso-Tech replacements for your old Hyena pals just aint up to it. Death and injury have knocked most of the replacement team out of operation. We just cant get a steady supply of components
Maybe you oughta try convince the board to let you recruit a new bunch of hunters from outside the company again?
The Peddler gave the man a sour look before shoving the Clipboard back in his hands.
You have no idea of the sort of grief I had to put with that idiot Big Game and the rest of those morons. If I never set eyes on any of them ever again it will be too soon.
Ok maam. It was just a suggestion, but if the bosses dont get in some decent hunters soon youre going to be making a lot less of these trips
Tuesday 16/09/08 St. Martial
The hostages were protesting again. Some of them were resigned to their fate, others put up a degree of resistance. It was something that Tara never ceased to find amusing. Shed made sure that the boys had only shot the worthless ones, the few casualties she informed her employer would be inevitable. Hed been ok with that. As the stragglers were loaded onto the truck, the slim figure known as Scorpio Rose was already counting. The small bundle of money that the idiots had been carrying was clutched in her gloved hand as the cigarette burned away on her lip.
Hey! Hey, youre Scorpio Rose right!? yelled one of the captives as Bruno, her thick set bodyguard pushed him towards the truck. She looked up from the wad of money at the struggling man.
Yep, what of it? she asked.
I thought these days you were hunting monsters and stuff! What have we ever done to you!? shouted the man, trying to shrug off Brunos heavy hands on him.
Not a lot, she replied, but theres a good price on you and your gangs head and itd be a shame to lose out, she replied. Ive got expensive tastes you know. You got any idea how much this coat cost me? She strode over to where Bruno had ceased moving the handcuffed man towards the truck, her scarlet coat flapping in the wind. And the monster stuff
well it paid the rent for a while but the bounty on you is far more attractive. Besides, I got kinda tired of washing demon drool off of my clothes all the time you know?
You have sold your soul! hissed the man. Tara smiled then leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.
Like you wouldnt believe, she whispered before walking off, leaving Bruno to hoist the bound man aboard the truck. We all sell our souls fool, she announced as she strode away, it only matters who we sell it to. Me, Im still looking for the highest bidder.
She returned her gaze to the bundle of notes in her hand as the door to the van slid shut.
@Dante EU - Union Roleplayer and Altisis Victim
The Militia: Union RP Supergroup - www.themilitia.org.uk
Elsewhere, several islands away, three men faced down their own monster. Of the three of them, the short fat midget was the boldest, waving his shiv around at the behemoth. The skinny one to his side backed him up while the ugly one just glared. Facing them was a muscle bound woman who stood at eight foot seven and was cobalt blue in colour. Underneath a battered cowboy hat, the rugged yet still attractive face of Indigo Blaze stared down at the trio. She folded her large, toned arms and repeated her last statement.
We have ah no weapons policy at the Wayward Wench. If you dont put that there knife away, I will have to escort you boys from the premises. He voice displayed a thick accent common to the southern states of the US which even in her firm tone somehow managed to remain friendly.
Ah screw you Bigfoot! shouted the midget as he made a lunge at her with the knife. Reacting rapidly, Indigo grabbed the midgets knife hand and lifted him clean off of the floor, dropping him into one of the bars large, decorative shipping barrels. Unless he could jump high, he wasnt getting out of there for a while. Realising he was trapped, he began cursing loudly.
The skinny one tried to kick her with his shoe only for Indigo to catch it, pausing briefly to examine the sharp blade in his boots toe.
Aw cmon man, she said as she twisted his foot 180 degrees, forcing him to flip over and kiss the floor, Every fool round these parts has watched Roadhouse! She planted a firm kick into a space between his thighs that caused him to yelp and curl up into a foetal position.
The ugly one charged her but she stepped to one side, grabbing the back of his shirt as he passed and swinging him round so that he went flying through the bar door at high speed. A shriek followed by a wet splash followed, his momentum clearly sending him off the edge of the pier. Indigo retook her seat at the bar, ignoring the rabid insults thrown at her from the barrel off to one side. Super Sized Sally poured her a drink of water.
Is it just me or are they getting more and more stupid Sal? she asked.
Probably more drunk, replied Sal. Plus they know by now that you dont do anything more than chuck them out of the bar. Theyre probably trying to push your limits Blue.
Maybe, replied Indigo, downing her water. But you know my rules: no killing, no kidnapping
No pain to those who aint earnt it, finished Sal, having heard the mantra many times before. You let too many people know that, theyll be looking for ways to take advantage.
I know, said Indigo, cracking her knuckles. Although Im running out of excuses for turning down alternative work ya know. Too many folks around her looking for the murdering type.
Sal refilled the glass. You ever considered taking out a few monsters, demons, that kind of thing? Plenty of them around these parts.
Bug Hunting? replied Indigo. Not really, never found no-one who pays that much for it. But I guess theyre dead most of them already. Thats gonna make it rest easier on my conscience. She stood up and picked up the large swearing barrel without any apparent effort.
Sally just smiled. You go take that trash out Blue. When you come back, I think I know someone who might be able to help you.
@Dante EU - Union Roleplayer and Altisis Victim
The Militia: Union RP Supergroup - www.themilitia.org.uk
{16/09/2008, late evening, the main bar of the Golden Giza}
Led facedown at the bar, clutching a large glass of scotch in one hand, and the almost empty bottle in the other was a scruffy looking middle aged man. His black leather trench coat was scuffed and worn, and his greying brown hair an unkempt mess. As he slowly lifted his aching head, his bleary eyes struggled to make out his own features reflected in the mirrors behind the bottles across the back of the bar. However, despite his inability to focus on his own leathery face he couldnt miss the starched white dog collar, and silver crucifix he wore as a badge of office in his capacity as a Roman Catholic Priest, or rather former Roman Catholic Priest. At one time hed been an idealistic firebrand, out to save the world from his own little church situated at the heart of the Sinners paradise known as St. Martial. Today he was little more than another drunkard propping up the bar.
It was all his own fault of course. After all to fulfil lofty ambitions he needed to adopt unorthodox methods. The gunplay was bad enough, but when his own research into the dark arts for a way to eradicate the Wailers that plagued St. Martial lead to the infestation of his own Church the Vatican decided to cut him loose, and excommunicate him. Devastated by this sordid turn of events he now spent his days doing little more than drinking, and sleeping in the flea pit of a hostel he still made some effort to run for St. Martials homeless community.
For a few moments he just stared in the mirror
SMASSHHH!
CRASSHHH!!
CLATTER!!!
The rest of the room spun around to see what the commotion was about. Standing in front of them was a wobbling Priest staring at the broken shards of mirror and bottles scattered behind the bar. His own bottle amongst the debris, soon followed by his now empty glass.
God helpppsss thossse who helpppsss themselves! He slurred loudly as he drew a pair of chromed .44 Smith and Wesson model 29 revolvers.
Cmon Cain and Abel, itsss time fur sssome redemtssshunn!
Put down the guns mister, we dont want any trouble!
The priest turned to face a very nervous looking security guard who was pointing a much smaller revolver than his own at him.
Missster! Youse mean Father! Im Father Jack Harrigan!
Then hows about acting like one?
The young mans retort seem to have struck a chord. Father Harrigan lowered his own weapons, and hung his head in shame. Just then he noticed something amongst the debris on the floor, lifted the flip door on the bar, and bent down to pick up the item. As he stood up he held what looked like an old photocopied notice, with a picture of a man wearing unusual hunters garb, and the words Do not let this deadbeat in the building! scrawled across the page. Father Harrigan ignored the Casinos note, and instead read the notice
[ QUOTE ]
Do you believe in U.F.O.s, astral projections, mental telepathy, E.S.P., Clairvoyance, spirit photography, telekinetic movement, full trance mediums, the Loch Ness Monster, and the theory of Atlantis?
If so that's great but not what im looking for... Well maybe the Loch Ness Monster at a later date!
Anyway new Port Oakes based business venture specialising in the capture, and extermination of supernatural, mythical, and genetically engineered monsters is seeking skilled hunters, and support staff. Excellent bounties to be earnt as well as full legal, medical, and dental cover. Yes that's right I said dental!!!
Think you got the guts, and the ability to keep hold of them? If so contact Big Game at my temporary office in the Wayward Wench Inn, Dockside, Port Oakes from Saturday the 15th through to the 21st of December.
If im not there just leave your details with Super Sized Sally at the bar, and I'l get back to you.
[/ QUOTE ]
Hmm, I wonder if these guys are still about?
Screwing up the notice and putting it into his trench coat pocket Father Harrigan staggered past the bewildered security guard smiling.
God may help thossse who helpppsss themselves, but ima pretty damn sssure he favoursss thosse who gettss some sinnersss to do sssome of the work too!
{19/09/2008, Mid Evening, The Wayward Wench, Port Oakes}
He knew things were pretty dire at the moment, and hed really ought to be doing more to put his business back together, but Big Game just couldnt help himself. So instead of busting his hump to reform the Hyenas, and start paying back the money he owed to Family boss Morretti, he was busy sat at the bar with a pair of very loose ladies.
Ooh Tony! Youre totally amazing. I mean how many other men could take on a giant squid with a pressure cooker full of spices , a skeet catapult, and still live to tell the tale? God you make me so hot!
Big Game could do little more than smile like a Cheshire cat as the young blonde woman continued to shower him with insincere, but ego boosting adoration while she rubbed his muscular chest through his grey t-shirt.
Lay off Brandi, I saw him first. Tony already said he was taking me out. Thats why he gave me his hat.
Eyebrows raised, Big Game spun to face the brunette who had his hat perched on top of her head.
Whoah babe! The hat aint a keeper, I still need that. That hat is an essential part of a specially crafted image. Its almost as iconic as my tiger-striped pants
Although admittedly you might be able to tempt me out of them!
The cheesy charmer gave the two women a blatant wink that sent them into a fit of giggles. Still grinning himself he turned himself and the two women towards the bar.
How about a few drinks to get this party stAAARRRRR!!!
Big Games last word turned into a howl of pain as his hair was grabbed from behind,. As his two female companions yelped Big Game was thrown down hard onto the floor. Clutching his head with one hand he looked up to see a scruffy looking middle aged man, wearing a Priests dog collar, and crucifix under a tatty leather coat.
What the freakin hell is your problem?
Shut your yap sinner. No wonder your business went down the toilet too busy chasing painted whores rather than hunting the spawn of Satan like you should be. Lucky for you though im going to give you a chance to redeem yourself.
Big Game looked up at the obviously mad Priest totally confused.
Redeem myself? Look Mister I aint no freakin mean mother£*%$?@ servant of God, im a freakin businessman. You want the spawn of Satan taking out then im expecting some sorta pay off.
The Priest grinned and them offered out his hand. At first Big Game flinched, but once he realised the Priest didnt intend to hurt him again, he took his hand, and allowed the man to help him up.
Im Father Jack Harrigan. You help me out, and il set you up with somewhere to run your operation from.
As Big Game stood up he took a moment to glance around, annoyed that his two lady friends had been scared off.
Look Father, il have you know I already got a state of the art facility.
You mean that pile of ash and charcoal next door by any chance?
looking even more annoyed, Big Game then picked up his hat that had been abandoned by the brunette hed been with earlier.
Touché, lets talk business
{23/09/2008, Early morning, St.Rita of Cascia Roman Catholic Church. St.Martial}
Stood at the entrance to the semi-derelict but still imposing structure known as St. Ritas Church was self declared monster-hunter extraordinaire Big Game, and his current sponsor, the half mad, often drunk Father Harrigan.
You have to be freakin kidding me. You want me to root out all the Wailers from this dump?
It may look like a dump to you, but this is holy ground and those creatures have defiled it. It is our duty the cleanse the Church of the demonic vermin who spit in the eye of the Lord, and make their lair inside.
It may be your duty but im just here because you promised me new digs to set up shop in.
Father Harrigan scowled at Big Game.
Spoken like the true mercenary scum you are. The Lord preaches that helping others is a reward unto itself. Obviously your own lapse in church going has lead to you forgetting such valuable wisdom.
Look buddy, valuable wisdom dont put a roof over the head of your business, and expecting a little more than a fuzzy warm feeling for a reward aint exactly a bad thing either. Now if you want me to sort out your infestation I suggest you shut up, quit judging me, and help me get my freakin equipment on.
Deciding that further annoying the oversensitive hunter would do little to get his church rid of its Wailer infestation, Father Harrigan remained silent and reached for a filthy green duffel bag.
For the next few minutes the two men worked in silence pulling out what looked like a dozen speakers attached to leather straps, and started to disentangle them from themselves. Once the speakers, straps, and spaghetti like wiring was sorted, they started to strap the mess of devices to Big Games arms, legs, and shoulders. As Game tightened the last of the straps Father Harrigan lifted out what looked like some sort of graphic equaliser box from the bag, and proceeded to plug in a number of wires from the speakers into the box. After checking everything was secure, Big Game pulled out some rubber foam earplugs, and jammed them into his own ears before finishing off with a large over the head pair of industrial ear defenders.
Ok Father, im ready to go in.
Big Game clumped his way up to the church doors before cocking his assault rifle and turning back to face Father Harrigan.
SING ME A SERMON, IL BE BACK FOR BREAKFAST!
Big Game disappeared through the church doors. Just as Father Harrigan started a prayer, St. Ritas windows exploded outwards, and he, as well as the surrounding area of St. Martial, was drowned out by the ear splitting sound of Bon Jovis Living on a Prayer blasting from inside the church
{24/09/2008, Mid Day, St.Rita of Cascia Roman Catholic Church. St.Martial}
Big Game sat on the steps of St. Ritas, ears still ringing after his unorthodox use of rock music blasted through super-powered speakers during yesterdays removal of a Wailer infestation at the dilapidated church.
You ready to check out your new home for the Hyenas?
What the freakin hell is keeping the old fart. Like I aint got better things to do than sitting around on cold stone trying to cultivate myself a batch of haemorrhoids.
Father Jack Harrigan chuckled to himself. Big Games temporary hearing impediment had been a great source of humour for the grizzled Priest, and little gems like Big Games last statement really helped lighten the mood of a man whod been pretty miserable for a long time now. Still despite all the good it was doing Father Harrigan, he wasnt under any circumstances going to let Big Game know that.
GET YOUR LAZY @SS UP SINNER. WE GOT PLACES TO GO! Father Harrigan shouted as he clipped Game around the back of the head.
Big Game leapt up startled, and mouthed a few obscenities. Father Harrigan chuckled inwardly to himself before setting off towards the place hed promised Big Game
A short while later
The two men exited the run down building that was once the Money Pit casino, before becoming Father Harrigans hostel for the homeless.
So, what do you think?
Father Harrigan stood staring at an open mouthed Big Game waiting for an answer.
I SAID WHAT DO YOU THINK?
Big Game spun around to father Father Harrigan.
I freakin heard you the first time. The ringing in my ears has calmed down. I was just trying to think of the right words.
So what have you come up with?..
Its a freakin $%?*-hole! Venereal Disease has more appeal than that dump. I aint been bitten as much by bugs since I was last hunting in Burma. The place is a freakin Flea Pit!
Father Harrigan wasnt upset at Big Games ingratitude. In fact he merely rubbed his chin as he thought.
Hmmm, Flea Pit! I like it. Its got a nice ring to it, and very fitting for a bunch of Hyenas.
Father Harrigan wrapped one arm around Big Game and turned him to face the building once again.
I present to you the Flea Pit! Welcome home my boy!..
((Before I had to leave the game earlier this year I started a monster hunter themed RPVG called the Hyenas. To my amazement the VG was populated with alts belonging to some of Union's best loved, and creative roleplayers. The down side to this was that because of the player's other long standing RP commitments the VG sort of fizzled out once I left. Anyway the concept is still great, and although I doubt I can get the Hyenas running and as active like some of the RPVGs I still think the Hyenas will make a great background VG.
The purpose of this thread is to give an IC explanation for the collapse of the last Hyenas team, while providing a launching point for a new team. While I do plan to recruit again eventually, for the moment im content to set the scene, and invite any former Hyenas to tell us where are you now?))
{12/09/2008, Early Evening, Dockside, Port Oakes}
Sat amongst the charred remains of the former base of operations of the infamous monster hunting team known as the Hyenas was a despondent looking Big Game.
Awwww cmon! Cant a guy get a freakin break?
Big Game stood up and brushed some ash off of his tiger striped pants before walking around the burnt debris that was now all that was left of the Hyena Den
Geez, and I thought Laura was the smart one. What the hell did she do? Ahhhh. I bet Gator must of turned up, and Laura signed him up. He probably mistook freakin napalm for oven cleaner or something.
Big Game spent a few more minutes sifting through the wreckage looking for anything worth salvaging before giving up, and walking out of the charcoaled wooden frame that had once been the front door. He then looked next door at the obviously poorly repaired, but otherwise intact Wayward Wench inn.
Hmmm! I bet Super Sized Sally will know what happened. I best head in for a beer.
{Some time later at the bar of the Wayward Wench }
Lemme get this right So after I left, you reckon the team was making it big. Lots of contracts, like Cage Consortium, Crey, and even stuff for Lauras rich boyfriend?
Dammit Tony, have you not been listening to me? Business was booming for the Hyenas. Laura Craft was doing a damn fine job after you left, but it didnt sit well with that Peddler witch you had working with you. She was really put out that you left the Hyenas in Lauras care.
Yeah, well she had loyalties elsewhere. I knew I could trust Laura to look after the team.
Well I cant deny Laura was doing her best for the team, but it wasnt long before that Peddler started to interfere with the running of the team. It didnt help that she pretty much had the ear of your guys main sponsors EZY-Tech
Thats Eso-Tech Sal. EZY-Tech make vibrating sex dolls or something.
Whatever Tony. Shut up willya im trying to tell you what happened. Anyway where was I? Oh yeah. Ends up that Eso-Tech become less and less cooperative. Yknow bills dont get paid on time, equipment requisitions are ignored, contract bonuses start to dry up. Things get so bad the team start talking about going fully independent. Of course the Peddler tries saying that their problems are due to some sort of company restructuring at Eso-Tech, but nobody really believes her. Anyway it aint long before some of the team start looking for work elsewhere, and the team starts to fall apart. In a sort of last ditch effort to get an injection of cash back into the team Laura starts going on about some sort of pest control scam you had thought of before you left.
Pest control? Oh yeah the Gremlin thing. I knew I had a winner there.
Yeah, well we will never know. It seems one of the critters you had stored in the Den escaped its containment , got into the electrical system, screwed about, and caused the fire that gutted the place. After that Laura and the remaining Hyenas called it a day. The Den has been a burnt out husk ever since.
Dammit! Sometimes I swear God really hates me.
Who can blame him. So what you gonna do Tony?
Well I gotta start paying back Morretti, and fast. Im kinda attached to the bits he wants to remove if he doesnt start getting his money back. I hear that the Corporation got some sort of Magic and Paranormal studies department. I imagine a skilled monster hunter like myself could be useful there. I worked for them before, got friends there, but
but what?
But But im not sure I want to be a hired goon again
Well you know what you got to do then.
Huh? What?
Put together a new team stupid! That or become a eunuch!
Big Game looked down at his crotch and then gulped.
You give a very persuasive argument Sal
((Oh yeah, for anybody who is interested the Hyenas own forum is here.))