+- 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: Hell Hound Hole (/showthread.php?tid=6797)
Hell Hound Hole - Ion - 03-09-2008
As you walk into the bar, the steady rythm of the air conditioning creates a low hum in the room.
The bar runs along one wall, and the window looks straight out at the badlands. The low hum of quiet conversation fills the room, blaster marks on the walls. A large bouncer demands you relinquish your weapons.
At one table in the corner of the room sits a Syndicate representative, instantly recognisable from his crisp suit and greased hair.
The bartender, A short man with a limp and an impressive scar on his nose glances at you as you arrive, quickly looking back to the glasses he is cleaning.
Hell Hound Hole - Ion - 03-10-2008
Daniel Ryan sauntered into the bar, barely anyone looked up from thier drinks or conversations. The Syndicate presense on Buffalo was becoming almost commonplace now, the rogues were becoming used to the designer suits and arrogance of the wealthy mobsters.
After all, the wealth spread around as long as they were there, and the drugs were cheaper.
"Hunter on the rocks for me bartender, and a round for all the patrols when they get in." Daniel leaned against the bar, surveying his surroundings. This is the kind of people we need around us, he thought, people who will do anything for the drugs and money that we have.
// this is an RP bar for anyone who docks at buffalo base, rogues, hackers, outcasts. it also serves as the Liberty Syndicate recruiting thread, please make all posts in RP. thanks //
Hell Hound Hole - Sayne - 03-10-2008
[DELETED]
Hell Hound Hole - Ion - 03-15-2008
Daniel lit another cardi-tip.
The week had not gone so well, he had lost contact with his navy mole, and the patrols were getting more frequent, and always in the wrong place.
"Two shots of arranmor whisky, wait, make that three." The bartender gave him a grunt and lined up his shots.
The burning in his throat was good, felt like it woke him up.
"When my sister gets here, tell her to meet us in the office." The barman nodded.
Hell Hound Hole - Niznusan - 04-15-2008
"Barkeep! Double rum, neat. And keep em coming!" I said loudly.
The barkeeper glared at me a minute, then I guess he saw what kind of mood I was in.
Drink in hand, I picked a booth in the corner. Nice to have your back against the wall, eyes on the door. The Rogues are pretty friendly to us Junkers, but only to a point. I don't trust any of em.
The rum felt good burning down my throat.....I started to sip my second one and reflect on the past 24 hours of my miserable life.
My ship is gone...blasted away by some trader armored transport...the "Hector Norweb " I believe was it's callsign. *sigh*
Well, I can't blame the trader now can I? I was desperate for credits...the higher ranking Junkers at Beaumont have been hoarding all the locations of decent scrap....ah the hell with it.
Anyway, as luck would have it, the only ship in the vicinity willing to pick me up was a blasted Rogue gunboat. He refused to drop me anywhere but here due to "security reasons". Whatever.
Now I have to bide my time in this wretched bar on this wretched piece of rock until my brother Nick picks me up. And he's in Omega-15.
"Drinks on me!"
Hell Hound Hole - Tyranidlord - 04-20-2008
Alexi Venturious stepped inside the dim lighting of the bar and immediately felt reassured by the heavy weight of the Tomvase 450 pistol sitting comfortably in it's armpit holster. he knew from experience that you could never be too safe, and it was better to have it and not need it than need it and not have it. several times he had been caught out and he had the scars to show from it, and particularly a place as rough as this it would always help out.
a quick glance confirmed all that he needed to know. the syndicate was here... oh well, that was no surprise and there was the usual mix of rogues, junkers and other riffraff which suited him perfectly. it had been a long time since he had served in anything resembling of the law, and several years in the slammer in the worse pens of Sugarland was enough to take away most of one's humanity.
not including his several run in's with the nomads...
without even a further glance around he saddled over to the bar, receiving an acknowledging nod from the barkeep as he poured a shot of synthetic vodka into his glass. he had been here a few times. just enough for the barkeep to know who he was and what he liked, but not enough that he couldn't blend into the shadows when required. he found that camouflage was always the best bet for survival, and when that didn't work, speed and firepower, in that order. that's why his Slipstream was still sitting comfortably in the hanger undergoing repairs from the last foolhardy attempt of LPI trying to bring him back in.
downing his second shot he felt the burning sensation flow right through his veins, filling him with the slight contentment that it always did. he'd hang here for a bit, at least until his ship was all good. might give him enough time to rustle up some work or something.
Hell Hound Hole - Niznusan - 04-23-2008
The barkeep had my drink ready soon after he saw me.
"There ya go Junker! Keep 'em coming?"
"Indeed" I replied. He remembered the large tip from last time.
Ah rum, the reason I still dock here. The Rogues are far cheaper than anyone in Sirius, especially those blasted Bretonians. I usually buy a case now when I'm here, hell....they don't even sell the stuff in Kusari space. I can put up with the Rogues for that at least.
My fortunes have turned for the better since I was stranded here several visits ago. My brother Nick finally made it here from Omega-15 and gave me a quite large amount of credits to replace my ship. I asked where he came into such money, and I still smile at his response:
"From several traders sympathetic to the Junker plight." Gotta love those traders.
Since then, I have come into possesion of a Pirate Transport, as "lawfuls" call it, but it was hard going to even get to the location of the shipyard where it is built. I nearly died several times on that journey, but it was well worth the effort.
Aside from one unfortunate incident with the =LSF=, I have begun to see profits climb, as I deliver certain "materials" to clients across Sirius. They do indeed pay well for my services. Hence, my generous tipping.
Settled comfortably in my usual booth, I notice two corporate types waltz in and sidle up to the bar. No not corporate, they are a bit too flashy for that. Must be a couple of those Syndicate blokes I've heard talk of.
Not one to take chances, I rest my hand on the butt of my blaster...ready for the worst if they approach me.
Hell Hound Hole - Tyranidlord - 04-24-2008
Alexi flashed a winning grin as he placed his hand down, revelling in the sudden look of distaste and defeat on his company's features. There was an audible curse, almost physical in its very nature but if there was ever a better excuse for such incredibly harsh language, then this moment was it.
A completely confident grin creased Alexi's face, curling up the corner of his mouth as he announced his hand of a complete royal flush, the very hand that had just guaranteed and made him the proud owner of his very own Gunship. Built by the Lane Hackers, and filled with that much advanced tech that had been stolen from Algeria Technologies he knew that this game of poker was more than worth the risk involved.
His gaming partners, a small group of seven men each glanced between themselves, sharing a mixture of grins and friendly jibes towards their losing companion and the briefest of hostile stares at Alexi. Each one was dressed in the matt-grey flight suits of the Lane Hackers, which seemed to blend into the shadows of this far corner of the 'Hole'. Alexi's own flight suit was a complete midnight black, rendering him almost invisible in his seats as he sat in the very corner of the booth, back into the wall in such a position where he could see the entirety of the Bar. Even in such relaxed conditions he could not afford to have a lapse in his own self protection.
With a look at his winning hand, his gaming partner, a tall but slim Hacker with an ocular implant for a left eye scowled and threw his own hand into the centre. With a glance it confirmed the bluff that his opponent had been pushing to the hilt, even going as far as raising the stakes until their ships had been placed down onto the table themselves.
Cursing, the Hacker glared at Alexi with his remaining organic eye, his ocular module emitting several whirring clicks as it focused. There was distaste in his expression; the look of hated defeat but there was still enough honour shared among the group that this would not just get ignored and backed away from.
"Beginners luck." he spat, downing a shot of cheap alcohol in a single gulp.
"I've been in this business a lot longer than you Adams." Alexi scooped up the small pile of hard credits and smiled at his defeated opponent. "It's not too bad though. You mightn't have your gunship, but at least you know get to kick around in my Slipstream."
There was a low growl from Adams as his expression showed how he felt about that idea. Pouring another shot for himself and sharing the bottle around through the rest of his fellow Hackers he glared back at Alexi. "Normally I wouldn't have let you go ahead and take off with my baby just like that, but you did save our arses out there today. Just how did you know that there was a Navy Patrol out and about? It was like you knew that they were coming and what they were going to do."
"That's despite the fact he took down two of those bombers single-handedly boss." one of the other's piped up helpfully.
"Indeed." Adams ignored the statement, and his feelings towards Alexi showed a little more than just respect. Those bombers were the only things capable of taking on his gunship, and he knew it.
"Just how did you know they were there?" he asked inquisitively.
"As you said before;" with a smile Alexi poured another shot of Sythnetic Vodka down his throat without flinching. "Beginner's luck."
"I'll bet. Oh, I forgot to mention before. I hope you have Organic Uplink Ports, otherwise the 'Buckshot' is going to be completely useless to you." with a cruel smile that betrayed the fact that Adams thought that Alexi had noting of the sort, he turned his head to the side and pulled back the hood of his flight suit, revealing the gleaming metal jack-ports sutured into the very bone of his skull to allow direct linking into the very ship itself through the Neural Net. It was way more advanced than most pilots and companies out in Sirus, but the Lane Hackers had the Capability for such things
"Without them, it seems that you have just won a ship that you cannot fly..." he sneered, looking into Alexi's Eyes for the slightest hint of emotion.
Instead all he got was a soft chuckle. "That would've been a problem indeed." he said confidently, reaching up and pulling back a short section of hair, to reveal that he too had the same implants.
As one the Hackers seated around the table opened their mouths in astonishment. Not only did this Rogue Pirate have the same high tech implants, but they were obviously a more advanced and a much better standard compared to theirs. They were the greatest tech pirates in all of sirus if one discounted the Order, and Alexi obviously hadn't recieved such technological marvels from them...
"What the Fu-" Adams stammered, staring uncomprensibly at Alexi as he stood to leave, throwing several credits onto the table to pay for his drinks.
"I thank you for your company Gentlemen." Alexi said, cutting Adams off mid-curse. "Safe flying and if you ever need a hand, you know how to contact me"
Without even a look back at the fuming Hacker he trundled over to the bar, dropping off a sizeable tip to the bartender who nodded his respect to the Rogue Pirate. He been coming here for quite some time now, and he could almost be counted as a part of the Bar itself now whenever he wasn't off 'working' somewhere. It would take a while for the ship transfer to be completed and all of his gear transferred over to his brand new fully-automated hacker Gunship. But in the end this day had been incredibly worth the effort...
Hell Hound Hole - Robert.Fitzgerald - 04-28-2008
Robert Fitzgerald stumbled into the bar area. Small patches of charcoal could be seen on his face and clothing. Blood streamed down his left arm, from several medium-sized cuts. As this was the Hell Hound Hole, the mercenary's appearance didn't surprise anyone.
The barkeep yelled out to Robert: "You'd be wanting a Liberty ale, right?"
There was no reply from the injured man. Using some of his fading strength, Robert struggled over to one of the unoccupied booths. A quick fall later, he was on the floor.
"Need any help there, Mr. Fitzgerald?"
Collin Baxter, a secretive Junker, gave Robert his hand. He lifted him up and helped him over his shoulder to the booth.
"So, what happened here Robert? Did those Bounty Hunters get you again?"
"No, it's a long story..."
Hell Hound Hole - Tyranidlord - 05-07-2008
Halfway to the exit out of the bar Alexi suddenly froze in place, his instincts lighting up warning lights all through his skull. Something was terribly wrong, and it wasn't just from the bleeding figure of the Merc that had gotten his attention. Several of the Bar's Patrons were staring curiously in his direction, but there was no overwhelming need or desire for them to move to the man's aid.
His eyes scanned the room, sifting through the shadows lining the walls and seeking out the faces of those seated in them. His mind was now screaming, almost filling his head with the wail of klaxons and he found himself lowering into a defensive position without consciously realising it.
A gleam of gunmetal sparked from the darkness, only a few meters away from his position near the door and he immediately threw himself to the ground behind the nearest table. With a roar of primeval fury the handgun discharged, its enormous barrel erupting in smoke and flame as it spat its payload into its soft target.
Surprisingly Alexi still found himself alive after the first burst from the automatic handgun, his combat attuned mind already realising that the gun wielding thug wasnt actually aiming for him. It seemed that he had just been caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that the blood streaked Merc was the target this time around.
Streaming rage and indignation in almost physical form the gunman stormed across the floor of the bar, his enormous autopistol spitting a furious stream of solid slugs into the booth that had once been occupied by the wounded Merc. Wood splintered, chair stuffing was blasted apart into clouds of white puff and the air was filled with the smell of split alcohol, burnt metal and cordite.
Within seconds, the bar had erupted into chaos, Pirates, Smugglers, Mercenaries and the other various Unlawfuls occupying it had immediately ducked into cover, drawing concealed weapons and firearms that they had smuggled in past the bars bouncer and drawing beads on whoever they deemed to be a threat, a source of the firing, or just whoever was closest at the time.
Within those long two seconds Alexi had found himself almost laying in between the armed gunman and the booth that he was almost casually shredding with his firepower. So far no one else had fired back or fired at anyone else and he knew that unless someone stopped this lunatic the entire place would turn into a slaughterhouse.
Without hesitation he rose to his feet, moving gracefully and in a blur to the eye drawing his own powerful Tomvase Pistol from its holster under his left arm. It was his own personal piece, taken from an Algeria Shipment from Detroit Munitions several months ago and he knew that there werent many like that in the open market, let alone in the hands of a pirate like himself. It was a massive calibre handgun, with enough stopping power to punch through armour plate, and would blow apart a man with a well placed shot.
With a roar that drowned out the gunmans own smaller autopistol the Tomvase bucked in his hand, launching its enormous round and blasting a fist sized hole through the mans chest. In a puff of pink mist the round punched through his opponent, tearing out of his back in a gout of blood and continuing on until it buried itself deep in the metal plating of the bar wall. A second shot followed, matching its twin only a few centimetres difference and causing the gunman to stagger slightly even with the twin craters in his chest.
For several seconds the entire bar was hushed into silence, and Alexi stood there staring in shock as the gunman turned and looked in his direction. Every person in the bar had been shocked into silence by the enormous bark of his Tomvase, but they all now positively remain shocked in their positions as the unknown gunman seemed to ignore the incapacitating wounds to his chest. Most normal men wouldve been thrown to the ground by the massive rounds from Alexis pistol, but instead it seemed like the shooter was completely immune to pain and injury.
With a glance Alexi saw that he mightve bitten off more than he could chew. The gunmans eyes were whirlpools of red, veins distended from his forehead and throat constricted; sure signs of a massive overdose of combat stimulants and enhancement drugs. Alexi knew that there was a lot on the market that could enhance the human body to superhuman levels, but on the black market He didnt want to think about how much punishment someone could take and dish out on such enhancements.
Roaring with hate the shooter turned his weapon away from the destroyed booth where the Junker and the Merc somehow remained miraculously alive under the table, and turned it right onto Alexi. Once more it roared, a single three round burst that totally missed the dodging pirate, the rounds sizzling through the air like angry hornets and blasting apart a shelf of liquor behind the cringing barman in a shower of mingling liquids and glass fragments.
Alexi knew that the only chance against such an adversary was to get in close, to get into arms reach of his attacker and finish him off. He had more than enough up his sleeve to win this fight, and provided that no one else in the bar decided to open up he had a chance to get out of this with his skin intact. So far no one else looked like they were willing to get caught up in this, so it looked like he might be in the clear in that respect.
Ducking under a clumsy punch from the drugged up shooter he lashed out like a snake, thudding his fist directly into the mans solar plexus with enough force to knock him back and smash the oxygen out of his lungs. A second blow followed that was a blur to the eye that struck with a machine like precision into the gunmans side, directly under the armpit and there was an audible crunch of bone splintering under the attack. Now, winded, bleeding from two massive craters in his chest that had obviously blown apart everything in the right side of his chest and with four ribs broken completely, the gunman started showing signs of tiring. With each strike, Alexi forced the man back, shattering bones and smashing organs with techniques that no pirate shouldve ever known. His history floated to the surface, and with each strike he brought up more of his past, of his training and of his previous life.
With a roar of hate and anguish he suddenly let it all out, lashing out with a savage combination of strikes that shattered the gunmans kneecap, broke his gun arm in two different places and punched his trachea in with a crunch of cartridge. Gurgling through a blocked windpipe the gunman dropped to the ground with a thud, his crippled limbs buckling under the damage and forcing his head down to the level of Alexis heavy jackboots.
Scowling, Alexi looked down on his defeated foe, seeing how the drug haze still burned fiercely in his eyes and made his body ignore the pain and the crippling injuries that had been dealt to it. Without even the slightest remorse he lifted his boot as he might over an insect, and crushed the gunmans skull with a sickening crunch.
Standing tall over the massive corpse Alexi turned and looked around the bar, seeing his image reflected in two dozen sets of eyes as every pirate and lowlife in the Bar struggled to understand what they had just witnessed. It had only taken less than four seconds for Alexi to draw his own weapon after the first burst, shoot the gunman twice and kill him with his bare hands in a series of lightning fast moves. None, even the most veteran of the hardened criminals and unlawfuls in the bar had ever seen such a thing, and even the Barkeeper seemed shocked at the speed and ruthlessness of the one sided fight.
Alexi ignored them, wiping his messy boot on the cleanest part of the corpses flight suit and glanced over to the wounded Merc and his Junker friend.
You blokes all right? he asked, holstering his Tomvase with a certain flourish as he regarded the shocked looks of the rest of the bar with empathy.