05-31-2006, 03:41 PM
- * - OOC - * -
This is going to be a thread for an ongoing plot involving my character, that I will brainstorm here on the spot! Characters are free to join.
- - - IC - - -
It was 12:22 PM, Central Manhattan Time. Captain Tain Gunhymn had just called in for an approach vector to land. After a quick pass through the docking ring, flames burst up from around the girth of his ship, the Red Racoon Dog. As it passed through the final layer of atmo and into the open air of planet Manhattan, its hull glowed red momentarily as the mixed armor from various ships cooled from reentry, casting a streamer of wispy cloud behind the muttly ship as it decended.
From the outside, the ship was not much to look at. The viewports and windows which lined the craft made it obvious that it was meant to hold passengers or crew, but very little armament was to be seen upfront, and most of the ship's hull seemed to be pulled from older decomissioned vessels of a variety of makes and models. It was smoothed down as much as possible however, and-- despite its mix-and-match taste-- was still a rather sleek-looking ship. It was Tain's home, and he liked it fine no matter how many times it got him into trouble. In fact that just made things more interesting was all.
Tain liked to think of himself as "just folk". No longer a military man nor politically involved, with no propoganda or religious dogma to be pushed upon others... he just wanted to go his way, and be successful while doing so. Most of the time, he could; and did. But other times, he couldn't; and really, really wanted to. He remembered this fact as he slid his pulse pistol from where it lay underneath his left arm, angling the heavy-barreled weapon to do a quick function's check. It was fairly unremarkable, not nearly so efficient as the newer models. He preferred it though. It had reliability and punch. And if it didn't work, he could always hit them with it.
He tightened his lips in satisfaction and replaced the weapon into its holster, buckling it down. Autopilot had just brought him to his port of harbor for his short stay on Manhattan, and was in the process of aligning the Red Racoon Dog with her docking clamps. He ran his hand through his short, slicked-back brown hair and took a look outside with a steady, confident gaze.
...
Why the hell was he here again?
Tain figured he'd conjure that later, and quickly turned to walk towards the cargo bay where his androids were hopefully preparing the passenger ramp so he could disembark, rather than staring at the consoles as if they had completely forgotten how to do a simple command. His brown leather trenchcoat trailed behind him slightly, not easily caught up by the breeze due to its weight. It was a Godsend atop Manhattan's towering space ports. Aside from that he was wearing a crimson red shirt with a yellow scarf around his neck, dark brown jeans and a pair of buckle-down boots that looked like he at least made an effort to keep shined. He was sharp, gussied up and handsome to boot. It was time to uh...
Well, he'd remember when he got there.
He exited the Red Racoon Dog.
This is going to be a thread for an ongoing plot involving my character, that I will brainstorm here on the spot! Characters are free to join.
- - - IC - - -
It was 12:22 PM, Central Manhattan Time. Captain Tain Gunhymn had just called in for an approach vector to land. After a quick pass through the docking ring, flames burst up from around the girth of his ship, the Red Racoon Dog. As it passed through the final layer of atmo and into the open air of planet Manhattan, its hull glowed red momentarily as the mixed armor from various ships cooled from reentry, casting a streamer of wispy cloud behind the muttly ship as it decended.
From the outside, the ship was not much to look at. The viewports and windows which lined the craft made it obvious that it was meant to hold passengers or crew, but very little armament was to be seen upfront, and most of the ship's hull seemed to be pulled from older decomissioned vessels of a variety of makes and models. It was smoothed down as much as possible however, and-- despite its mix-and-match taste-- was still a rather sleek-looking ship. It was Tain's home, and he liked it fine no matter how many times it got him into trouble. In fact that just made things more interesting was all.
Tain liked to think of himself as "just folk". No longer a military man nor politically involved, with no propoganda or religious dogma to be pushed upon others... he just wanted to go his way, and be successful while doing so. Most of the time, he could; and did. But other times, he couldn't; and really, really wanted to. He remembered this fact as he slid his pulse pistol from where it lay underneath his left arm, angling the heavy-barreled weapon to do a quick function's check. It was fairly unremarkable, not nearly so efficient as the newer models. He preferred it though. It had reliability and punch. And if it didn't work, he could always hit them with it.
He tightened his lips in satisfaction and replaced the weapon into its holster, buckling it down. Autopilot had just brought him to his port of harbor for his short stay on Manhattan, and was in the process of aligning the Red Racoon Dog with her docking clamps. He ran his hand through his short, slicked-back brown hair and took a look outside with a steady, confident gaze.
...
Why the hell was he here again?
Tain figured he'd conjure that later, and quickly turned to walk towards the cargo bay where his androids were hopefully preparing the passenger ramp so he could disembark, rather than staring at the consoles as if they had completely forgotten how to do a simple command. His brown leather trenchcoat trailed behind him slightly, not easily caught up by the breeze due to its weight. It was a Godsend atop Manhattan's towering space ports. Aside from that he was wearing a crimson red shirt with a yellow scarf around his neck, dark brown jeans and a pair of buckle-down boots that looked like he at least made an effort to keep shined. He was sharp, gussied up and handsome to boot. It was time to uh...
Well, he'd remember when he got there.
He exited the Red Racoon Dog.