Scratching out a Living - Printable Version +- Discovery Gaming Community (https://discoverygc.com/forums) +-- Forum: Role-Playing (https://discoverygc.com/forums/forumdisplay.php?fid=9) +--- Forum: Stories and Biographies (https://discoverygc.com/forums/forumdisplay.php?fid=56) +--- Thread: Scratching out a Living (/showthread.php?tid=44483)

Scratching out a Living - Not Espi - 07-27-2010 Dear Mr. Mitchell, our organisation, as our partners and contractors, cares greatly about the goodwill of it’s name and as such, we check records of every applicant into our staff. Upon checking your neural-net files and found rather disturbing notes in your criminal records. We regret to inform you that your application for the desired position was REJECTED We wish you luck in your future endeavors, Mr. Mitchell... ‘... blah blah blah’ - Dave didn’t even read on. He had seen this kind of a message way too many times in the last 17 weeks, and he was running out of credits. Okay, sure - he served his time on Huntsville, but that was 5 years ago, and he learned his lesson. Besides it was just small stuff. There were lots of it, but they were all just minor offences. He didn’t steal anything for years now. ‘Bloody Criminal Register! God Damn-it!’ - he stood up violently, throwing the chair he was sitting on against a wall behind him. The landlord was tailing him, looking for the first opportunity to evict him. Greedy little bastard knew that he was unemployed for almost 4 months now. And Dave paid all the checks on time - always. Ending up on the street again didn’t seem like a very pleasant idea. He changed since then. The jail forced him to. If anyone would ever tell him jail just turns minor offenders into major ones he would bash their face in. Well - sometimes it might. Like Jimmy the Mouse, but that was a different story. Dave knew it was about a man’s character, and Jimmy was easy to break - poor kid never had a chance. The inmates made him his plaything, and he was forced to do horrid stuff for months before doing what he did. Dave was kinda lucky - he met none of those guys in his prison wing. Instead, he met Clarence Wakely in his cell... Scratching out a Living - Not Espi - 07-27-2010 ‘So what’cha in for?’ - Dave asked his new inmate on the first day in the block. He knew it wasn’t something violent, the guy didn’t look capable of doing such a thing. The prisoner uniform was hanging on him, but it’s always better to ask and hope the guy is honest. Nobody wants to be in a cell with a psychopathic child-molester. That would either drive you nuts or force to do something you might regret later. Or both - in any order. ‘Insurance fraud.’ - the man replied. Simple, clean, and with an honest voice. ‘I saved the company a lot of credits and they pick me to be the fall guy. The CEO told me they will take care of my family though, so it’s okay... I guess. And a two year vacation could come in handy.’ - he chuckled slightly - ‘And yourself?’ ‘Breaking and entering, theft, mostly small stuff...’ - Dave stood up from his bulk and came closer to his new ‘best friend’. His new neighbour didn’t seem to be stressed, even if they were in prison and Dave was significantly taller. The the fresh inmate just stood there and use his left hand to correct the position of his glasses. ‘They say that one can tell what kind of a person you are from a handshake.’ - Dave said, and extended his right arm. ‘The name’s Dave. We’ll be seeing each other fairly often now... Might as well get to know our names, right?’ The man with glasses shook Dave’s hand. It wasn’t exactly strong, but relatively firm for a man of his construction - ‘Clarence... Clarence Wakely. Nice to meet you, Dave.’ - replied the man, while almost having a smile on his face. That made Dave a bit nervous - he was obviously stronger and taller, but they guy didn’t give a rat’s ass. There was something here, he didn’t see. Scratching out a Living - Not Espi - 07-27-2010 ‘Well, Clarence ... You seem to be too - happy. Taking the fact that you are in prison into consideration. That makes me kinda nervous. What’s up with that?’- Dave asked after letting go of Clarence’s hand. He slowly backed up towards his bulk and sat down while Clarence was replying: ‘I got a good deal with the company. They offered me a single pack of 5.000.000 credits if I stay on the job, or ten million monthly for if I take the fall and have a prolonged vacation here.’ - he chuckled again - ‘Guess which one did I pick. An accountant doesn’t make much, and I want my kids to go to good schools. I got three little brats at home. By the time I get back to them, I’ll have 240 million credits at my disposal. Matter of fact - I’m happy because the bank sent me transaction records for this month.’ - he pulled out a sheet of beige-ish paper with a bank logo watermark, and then he put a finger to his mouth and whispered, barely holding his excitement under the lid - ‘Plus Ten Million Sirius Credits!’ - he pointed at the paper. His finger showing an 8 digit number. It was kinda hard to miss even from Dave’s bulk. ‘So why you? Why not someone else?’ - Dave probed a bit deeper. ‘It was my idea and my manager just overheard it. Simply put, we hired some shady organisation to ‘ambush and pirate’ a few of our transports and drop the cargo on a specific spot. We would then collect it and sell it as a new shipment later on. Unfortunately the insurance company found the bank connections between the mercenaries and our company and the company’s good name was endangered if nobody responsible was found. I got to choose if I want to head here and make a fortune while doing nothing or keep the job and accept a small reward - the 5million I mentioned before. The thing is that before the insurance company managed to find out what we did, the profit was slowly added up as interest in the company’s investment fund. We made billions on just that, and they decided to be very generous to me. Heck, I'll be able to buy a small island on Curacao by the time I get out.’ - he finished talking, and Dave could hear Clarence's excited breath all the way to the other side of the cell. Scratching out a Living - Not Espi - 08-04-2010 The sound of the buzzer forced Dave to walk to the intercom and look at the monitor. It was his landlord again. He would spit in his face if he opened the door to the hall. Lucky for the landlord, at was enough to press a button under the intercom monitor and start talking. '€˜What is it now?'€™- Dave asked. The landlord looked into the camera. His semi-bald head reflected the ceiling lights and that kinda blurred the monitor image. '€˜Mister Mitchell, might I suggest you pay me for the next month tomorrow? Everyone does.'€™ He grinned oddly while saying that. '€˜The Room-owner Society is changing policy. People will now pay up forward. Sorry for any inconvenience caused.'€™ Dave could see the landlord'€™s stupid grin on the monitor. It almost made him open the door and bash his face into the opposite wall. He would have his two thugs somewhere outside the view though, and attacking him would surely mean an eviction. So you want a payment for 2 months this Monday?'€™ He asked, and turned off the monitor. He couldn'€™t stand the man'€™s face anymore. '€˜That'€™s right, mister Mitchell. I'€™m expecting the payment tomorrow. You will be able to pay, right?'€™ '€˜Sure thing, Norton.'€™, replied Dave, and raised his middle finger towards the door. '€˜Bye.'€™ He turned off the intercom and went in the fridge to have a drink. Some chilled beer would do him good. He opened the fridge to grab one or two, but it was almost empty, and definitely out of beer. Scratching out a Living - Not Espi - 08-13-2010 ‘Damn, I could use a pint of some decent ale.’, Dave said while wiping sweat off his forehead. He was looking down into the smelter. His face was illuminated with orange light from the boiling metal. ‘It’s hot like hell in here. I can’t believe we’re not paying the LPI for a sauna service. You think the wardens use this place as a spa?’ Clarence looked at him, with a grin on his face - ‘Are you serious, with all the stuff we throw in there? I’m actually surprised we’re not poisoned at this point. Heck ... we were throwing this junk in for a year and a half now.’ He pulled out a plate of scrap metal with blue moss on it, and turned it towards Dave ‘Think this is a nomad?’ Dave took the plate, smelled the blue substance, made a disgusted expression and threw the piece into the mass of liquefied metal. ‘If it was one, it definitely shat it’s pants before this bastard hit it. You believe in this nomad poisoning stuff?’ ‘The heck I care. I’m buying my island on Curacao and never need to worry about the stuff again. Just a beach, my wife, kinds and their private lecturers. Screw space. It’s too dangerous anyway. Five more months. Just five more months and I get to have a private piece of heaven with them.’ Clarence stopped talking for a bit, thinking, then looked back at Dave. ‘You never told me what you will do when you get out of this place.’ Dave stopped throwing scrap metal into the smelter, looked back at his cell mate, raised an eyebrow and started throwing stuff back again. ‘I’m not sure... 37 year-old thief. What job could I get? I guess I might spend quite some time looking for work.’ ‘I still know folks in the DSE, you know. Might talk to a few people to shut one eye, or two, when looking at your resume. You’re a good guy, Dave... Life was hard on you though. Before I came here, we were making surveys in Pennsylvania. Seems there is a crapload of silver there. I guess the company will still be looking for miner pilots. A favor returned. It's the least I can do.’