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+---- Thread: The Blood Money - Freeport One Edition - (/showthread.php?tid=93499)
RE: The Blood Money - Freeport One Edition - - Haste - 04-24-2013
"The plan?"
He picked up his glass, but did not yet drink from it. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke a line that he seemed to have memorized: "To honor the contract. To kill our targets." He sipped from his glass. "And in the end, share a bottle as we count the money."
He laughed and put down his glass with an audible slam. Thankfully, it was sturdy enough not to break.
Still smiling, he said: "As for you.. You seem to cope well with death. I'm sure you'll be fine."
RE: The Blood Money - Freeport One Edition - - Silver - 04-24-2013
"Death will be the last one standing."
"Good 'nough plan. Just be sure to keep yer nose out for more contracts."
She pushed the bottle to Cerulean and raised from her seat.
"On me kiddo. I'll be-"
Both her and Cerulean's PDA beeped.
"Ah, Dagon. Told ya."
She smirked and grabbed her PDA, putting it in her jacket pocket, while Cerulean grabbed his. She rumbled through one of her pockets and grabbed a small poker card and threw it to Cerulean.
It was a thirteen of Spades.
"Balance kid. The universe needs balance. And Death is around you people to make sure of it."
With a small laugh that could chill a man's spine, she walked away and disappeared in the middle of the crowd in the bar.
RE: The Blood Money - Freeport One Edition - - Haste - 04-24-2013
Puzzled by the card Silver threw him, Cerulean barely managed to nod at Silver before she left.
He leaned back, put the card on the table in front of him, and picked up his glass of whiskey to replace it. The glass in one hand, and his PDA in the other, he browsed through what Titanium'd sent him, taking sips from his glass every now and then.
Given it'd only taken Titanium an hour to dig up the information, it was an impressive amount - all of it brief and to the point. After minutes of reading, he'd found what he was looking for most: Simon Templar's current location. Leeds.
"Would've been easier if he'd been drinking himself to death on Buffalo or something," he mumbled to himself. He filled up his glass with what was left in the bottle, pushed the now empty bottle towards the middle of the table, and read through the data once more.
Done with both the whiskey and the reading, he put away his PDA. "Might as well brighten someone's day", he mumbled as he got up from the couch. He then put a 10,000 SC credit card beside the poker card, and slid both next to the empty bottle.
Wondering how to get on Leeds, he walked towards the exit of the bar.
RE: The Blood Money - Freeport One Edition - - Warspite - 04-29-2013
As he walked away from his Sabre at the dock, he could not help but think to himself how quickly he had learned to enjoy flying it. He sold many a ship to many a “captain,” so they all seemed to call themselves in the Edge Worlds, but now he had a better understanding of why some were in demand more than others – especially those that were best at ending a “captain’s” days at the helm.
Walking into the Blood Money, he met an arm horizontally blocking his path at the door. “Check for weapons,” the security team member muttered as if operating on auto pilot. After a quick pat-down, the guard pulled a small plasma pistol from under the visitor’s jacket. “Bar regulations, sir, this is contraband.”
“Call off your dog, keep, if I meant trouble you would have known.” The bartender gave a quick nod and the arm lowered like a gate.
“I understand, he’s doing his job. I can respect that.” The man pulled up a stool in front of the bar.
“Whiskey.”
“What kind?”
“The kind that burns.”
As the keep filled a small tumbler, he leaned over to the visitor. “This isn’t the kind of bar you want to parade in showing your manhood. You’re not the only one who . . . .”
He paused as the gruff old man motioned a finger at him to come closer. As the keep leaned over, he heard in a whisper,
“If you’re looking for someone who gives a f*** . . .”
Suddenly the keep found himself with a large, veined hand around his throat and a bearded chin in his eye.
“Ask your dog at the door because I have no f***s to give.”
The visitor threw the keep back behind the bar and began a slow draught on his whiskey.
“But business is business.” He laid 100,000 in credits on the bar top. “You do your job, I’ll do mine. It makes the world go ‘round.”
As he made his way to a table in the back corner, he stopped by his other new acquaintance.
“For your troubles, dog. ”
Another 100,000 credits.
Sitting down, he slowly muttered to himself “. . . and business has never been so good.”
RE: The Blood Money - Freeport One Edition - - Silver - 04-29-2013
"There is so many dodges against Death."
A click was heard behind that very rude man's nape.
"I hate when people are rude to my barkeep. I hate it even more when they think they can touch him."
Silver, nudged the head a little with the gun.
"Any last words, bub?"
The man opened his mouth to talk, and Silver just pistol whipped his head, knocking him out, causing him to fall to the floor,
bashing his head on the table.
"Not interested."
She said looking at the now knocked out man.
Two of the security guards arrived and saluted.
"Eh, stop that, you're makin' me blush."
She smirked at the two guards, and then kicked the body in the floor.
"Throw this bug out of here. Like.. The Corsair Embassy. But keep his weapon. We wouldn't want.. troublesome people unleashed inside the Freeport, would we? Or else, i bet your SecChief will be itchin' to unleash the mechs."
With a small laugh, Silver walked to the bar, and sat on the stool that the man was sitting and nodded to O'Reilly, who quickly thanked with a nod and placed a bottle of Jack Daniels and two empty glasses in front of her.
RE: The Blood Money - Freeport One Edition - - Warspite - 04-29-2013
He woke up sprawled out on the landing deck, not that he was in a position to know where he was given the splitting headache that seemed to be coming from in front and behind. He reached to the front and back of his head and felt swollen nodes above his left eye and underneath his thinning white crown. Lifting his head up slowly, he looked around.
At least there’s no chalk lines, he thought to himself. It wasn’t the first time he woke up in a dried pool of blood. Or whiskey. It probably wouldn’t be the last.
Laying back down, he went through his usual process of elimination.
Not the keep, most likely not the guard. I almost forgot how people in the border worlds took things so . . . personally.
*Sigh* - Must have been the owner. Their bar, their rules.
As he got up from his rather awkward position, his bones and joints ached. Must have been there for a while.
As he stumbled back to the bar entrance, all he could think about was the throbbing. Maybe it was splitting, but regardless, he had seen better days.
Good business model. Let someone buy a drink, knock them unconscious, and give them a headache they can only cure by going back to the bar for another. It almost made him smirk.
As he approached the door, he wasn’t met by another arm barring his way.
Suppose they took the pistol. At least they’re not stupid. Or perhaps they’re hoping for a second round.
Ignoring the lights in the bar for a moment, which did nothing but worsen the pain, he looked around. In the corner, he spotted the shaded figure of a woman in a booth. He couldn’t see her eyes or make out any of her features, but he didn’t need to.
Bingo.
He pulled a stool up to the booth, reached into his jacket’s chest pocket, and pulled a cigarette from a metallic case. In his back left pocket, he found his lighter. Lighting the cigarette, he tasted to sweet smoke and was relieved.
Must have been out for a while – nicotine doesn’t usually hit this noticably. Seem like decent folk, leaving an old man’s vices with him.
After a deep inhale, he exhaled away from the silhouetted woman in front of him.
“Touche. Mind if I trouble your bar for another round?”
RE: The Blood Money - Freeport One Edition - - LePew - 04-29-2013
LePew walked in to the good old blood money, just taken another name and looking for a drink.
He spied an odd fellow making a trouble. It seemed he was troubling a woman. He wouldn't allow that.
Walking over, he notice a stool under the man. Without breaking stride, he put the tip of his foot on the man's bottom and shoved outwards, toppling both the man and stool. Without even caring for the man on the ground, he slid into the booth on the other side of the woman and knocked the table for two drinks.
RE: The Blood Money - Freeport One Edition - - Silver - 04-29-2013
"Freezing hell. There's no place like home."
Silver watching the events unfolding in her front couldn't help to laugh.
"LePew, been a while."
She eased on the gallic and savored the last drop in her glass.
"How's life, mon ami?"
RE: The Blood Money - Freeport One Edition - - LePew - 04-29-2013
He smiled warmly.
"Life has been life. I've been playing solde homme for too long."
A waitress walks up and drops off two glasses.
He takes one and pushes it to the inside of the booth. The other he drinks from.
"You have me a list, remember? Told me to keep things in check.
You never told me for how long though, and at what price."
RE: The Blood Money - Freeport One Edition - - Havok - 05-05-2013
Freeport One, Hangar Bay
A Revolution Class Coalition Bomber was entering the Bay as every person that was there turned their heads. The Coalition Insignia's on the Vessel were crossed out or blacked out, and the Pilot could not be seen. Setting the ship down, as the cockpit opened, Erik stepped out of the Vessel, He was still wearing his Coalition Uniform, but the Insignia's Removed. He put his helmet in the cockpit, looked at the engineers and then headed to the bar.
Walking through the Corridors, everywhere men and women turned around ,looking after him as he made his way into the bar, standing at the entrance, he scanned the room. Shortly after, he nodded and then headed to the Bar. Taking a seat on one of the stools he looks at the Bartender.
"A Shot of Death, Please."
The Bartender simply nodded and Erik Waited.