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Messages - Plasmarobo

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406
The Pit / Re: Favorite Food and Drink
« on: June 05, 2013, 09:52:45 am »
And I was sure he was going to say onions (nice try, Ser Davos).

407
A is for anchor, our Skyboats need none

408
The Lounge / Re: Silly Ideas That Would Break the Game
« on: June 05, 2013, 09:14:50 am »
Add a second helm to ships. Like the second brake in a learners car.

Lets the gunners and engineers grab the wheel when the captain is about to slam into the magnetic terrain.

409
The Cantina / Re: Burning Skies Saloon
« on: June 04, 2013, 10:51:46 pm »
--Saloon--

Plasma eyes the drink, before draining half of it in a single swig. His eyes water and he coughs. But only once.
Then he slams his fist down on the bar repeatedly and exhales in a wheezing, burnt sort of way.

Plasma
"Hell- *erk* -hell of a kick, that stuff."

He glares at the drink as if challenging it to a duel. Grabs the mug roughly, and dumps the rest down his throat.
He turns to the Admiral, straightens slightly and gives a sort of casual salute. He listens carefully to the conversation between Jun'ko and Althea.

Plasma
"Honestly, I understand most Elites rarely get to set foot out in the sky. Guess you're the lucky exception."

Althea turns to the Ensign, arching an eyebrow in condescension.

Althea
"Oh? And why is that?"

Plasma holds his palms up and shrugs.

Plasma
"Didn't mean to offend. I became an officer expressly to avoid being stuck on solid ground. And now look what duty I've drawn: Searching the port, running errands. I swear it's as if Captain Verra had some reason to...well, she's a fine captain."

The drink is starting to creep into him now. Face flushing, words becoming just a tiny bit unsteady.
He pushes the mug back and turns to Yiski

Plasma
"Sorry Commander, that's strong stuff. I think I better slow down a bit, less I unbecome... do things unbecoming an officer."

He whirls as Papa enters.

Plasma
"Good god man! What the flak are you!?"

410
The Cantina / Re: Burning Skies Saloon
« on: June 04, 2013, 09:05:36 pm »
Plasma slips into the tavern quitely. He regards the strange woman. A horribly beweaponed Elite.
This was above his pay grade. Still. He had a job to do. However demeaning.

He clears his throat, keeping clear of the tension in the room.
Plasma
"Ah. Commander. I realized you're a bit... busy. But I have a copy of the incident report for you. Bit silly really. Seeing as how you were there..."

He leaves a folder on the counter. It contains a few documents of unnecessary details.

He looks rather doubtfully at the tap. Leaning on the counter and looking nonplussed at the bare room.

Plasma
"Truth be told, it's been a long...well. How much for a drink?"

411
The Lounge / Re: Across the Burren piano piece
« on: June 04, 2013, 05:38:01 pm »
That's pretty cool actually.

It's been a while since I've listened to something so beautiful. It's like, almost haunting, but not quite.

Makes me think of exploring a castle in an old JRPG.

412
The Cantina / Re: Burning Skies Saloon
« on: June 04, 2013, 05:18:57 pm »
Plasma waits outside the saloon. Holding a plain document folder.
It would be closed right now. I guess I'll just wait for it to-
He stops as a pair of agressive voices sound in rapid succession from within.
Then a heavy thud. Not good sounds under the best of circumstances.
Whirling around, he wrenches open the door, pistol in hand.

He glances at the guard on the ground. He glares at Honeybadger from the threshold.
Not this guy again.

Plasma
"What is going on here!? You've just assaulted an official!"

He pulls the hammer on the weapon back. The click of the latch is satisfyingly ominous.
He takes out the radio with his other hand.
Plasma
"I have two dangerous persons at the Burning Skies. Assaulting a guardsmen. Good, I'll send them over."

He turns to the two men, waving his pistol vaguely.

Plasma
"Play nice now. Keep your hands on that bar, so these gents can get at them nice and easy, gentlemen. If I see them so much as twitch towards a weapon, I guarantee you the immediate loss of at least one finger."

He waits for the other guards to cuff them

413
The Pit / Re: Guns Of Icarus Slang
« on: June 04, 2013, 11:28:17 am »
Teabag - Ramming down
Teabag of Destiny - Ramming down with chute vent

First time I heard these I ran into a wall, cause I couldn't steer for laughing. Missed the ram entirely.

414
The Pit / Re: Favorite Food and Drink
« on: June 04, 2013, 09:51:55 am »
Food: Pizza Rolls if I have some in my fridge
Drink: Juice



Drink: I usually grab whatever IPA I have around at the moment. This month it's been Dogfish Head 90 minute.
Fud: Um, whatever is in the fridge. Sometimes I actually cook interesting stuff. However my experiments sometimes go horribly wrong (note to self: egg does not belong in stir fry)

415
The Pit / Re: Burning Skies Saloon Audio Book Discussion
« on: June 04, 2013, 09:18:07 am »
If it doesn't involve code, it isn't worth doing. That includes clicking on print.

But I have been known to do voices. Really odd ones usually. I DM for DMax and Surette.
Anyway yeah, if you think my *ahem* talents are applicable, PM me or whatever.

416
The Cantina / Re: Burning Skies Saloon
« on: June 03, 2013, 11:06:29 pm »
An eyebrow rises as Yiski attempts to put weight on his leg.

Plasma remembers himself and salutes twice.
 
Plasma
"Yes, commander. I'll order another search of all outgoing vessels, and find a doctor. Commander. Admiral."

He nods to the other guard.
A doctor? Next they'll want me to wait tables! Some career this is becoming. Still, the Commander and the Admiral...
Turns and begins to walk in the direction of the port, issuing a few orders into the strange radio.

Plasma
"...and find a doctor. Yes. D-O-C-T-O-R. No. Fine, tell him it's the Commander's saloon-wait, no. The port. What? Yes he does. That famous one. The Burgeoning Flies or something. Yes. "

417
The Pit / Re: Burning Skies Saloon Discussion
« on: June 03, 2013, 10:58:45 pm »
Holy wall of text Batman!

418
The Cantina / Re: Burning Skies Saloon
« on: June 03, 2013, 08:33:10 pm »
Plasma, hearing the shattering crash of a man jumping through a window, directs his little squad to sprint down the street by doing so himself. Reaching the prone man out of breath.

He looks up at the window quickly.
Plasma
"Men, get in that building! Shoot to wound only!"

They rush past him. He examines the man, checking his leg carefully.
Plasma
"You are a lucky man. Could have fallen on your neck. What possessed you to... nevermind. We've got to get you to a doctor."
He takes out his odd little radio and fiddles with it.

Plasma
"I need backup, I've got an injured man in the North District!"

He looks at Yiski doubtfully.

Plasma
"Can you walk, my friend?"

419
The Cantina / Re: Burning Skies Saloon
« on: June 03, 2013, 07:59:25 pm »
Who is this...? He makes me mildy uncomfortable. Now he is touching me? Doesn't matter. ORDERS FROM THE ADMIRAL!

He turns a bit pale, but immediately steels himself, nodding to the Honeybadger and saluting the others.
Plasma
"Yes sir. I think we can handle that sir. We're not needed here. In any case, the ship is long gone by now. I'll take a few men and do what I can."

He gives a final salute, now looking determined and turns to the group of uncertain soldiers nearby.

Plasma
"Alright men, new orders from the admiral. Report to the lieutenant. The Striker Commander is abord that boat. I want you four to man a squid in pursuit. The rest of you are on routine patrol with me."

Half the group immediately moves out. The other half and Plasma holster their weapons and begin a march to the Northern District. 

420
The Cantina / Re: Burning Skies Saloon
« on: June 03, 2013, 06:02:41 pm »
Plasma turns, and unsure of the newcomers rank gives a halfhearted salute.
Really, if they know Zill personally, they either all outrank me or are personal friends of his. Either way, play it safe.

Plasma
"Ensign, first class, Plasma. I'm...um, part of the guard here." he finishes lamely.

His eyes keep flicking to the odd little radio, as if someone else were holding his child.

Plasma
"I do think they are contacting the Admiral. There is some possibly of forged log accounts here, although there certainly was a ship parked here not a day ago. They never checked out, you see..." he peters out and slings his carbine more permanently onto his back. Standing at an awkward half attention.

This day simply continues to get stranger...

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