Freestyle RPG

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Talon
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Post by Talon » Wed August 13 03 ; 12 50 pm

<span style='color:burlywood'>Ok... This is gonna be freestyle..in other words, no GM, no specific module, no specific world, no dice rolling. You just jump in and Roleplay.

2 rules..

1) lets keep a sensible flow.. don't just start up arbitrary things for no reason whatsoever, try to follow the flow of the story

2) NO MATRIX...

I figured it'd be fun to get away from the dice and keeping stats and following rules.. this is pure roleplaying</span>
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Talon
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Post by Talon » Wed August 13 03 ; 1 00 pm

<span style='color:orangered'>A lone figure is standing in the shadows just inside a dark alley off 5th street smoking a cigarette. The drizzle is almost enough to extinguish the glowing end, but it the occasional drag taken from the other end makes it flare back into life. The glowing cigarette drops as another man approaches.

"You do the job?" the waiting man asks

"Yeah. Wheres my money Jared?" the new comer snarled.

"right here..." and in a frction of second a pistol was against the newcomers head

As the loud boom echoed down the alley, Jared was half a block away with his duster flapping behind him. Finally, Jared slows to a walk and lit another cigarette.

Half a block away, a man lay dead in the alley.



OOC- I'm obviously playing Jared.</span>
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Post by Longbow » Wed August 13 03 ; 3 01 pm

OOC - Hi Jared.

In an apartment complex on 5th street a young man is woken by the sounds of gunfire. By day a young Army Ranger Lieutenant and by night a college student magoring in all that is computers. As he stumbles out of bed he puts on a pair of khaki shorts laying on the floor and grabs a Kimber .45 automatic pistol from his night stand drawer. He heads to his small kitchens window to check and see where the shot came from. The streets are desolite execpt for a few parked car and .... a pool of blood forming next to a man crumpled on the ground. As he races down the stairs his heart pounds and his eyes dart around to keep aware. As he reaches the street he sees a shadow figure running away from the scene. As the figure disloves into the other shadows he returns his attention back to the bloody corpse that once had a face. As he checks over the body he notices his attire, a typical strret thug, he thinks for a second and concludes that it was a gang killing. He then heads up to his apartment room and calls the police. A drowsy female voice answers the phone <span style='color:blue'>"Central Police Station how may I help you" </span>He answers the question briskly <span style='color:green'>"There's been a murder on 5th street, requires ambulance." </span>The voice then replies, in a much faster tone now, <span style='color:blue'>"Sir what is your name and what happened." </span>"<span style='color:green'>I don't know exactly what happened, a gunshot woke me up." </span><span style='color:blue'>"And your name sir" </span><span style='color:green'>"O yes, Lieutenant Michael Flare."</span>
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Post by PsyKoSys » Wed August 13 03 ; 5 01 pm

Steam rises from the asphalt and the ground sizzles where the raindrops strike it. It had been stifling hot that day, even the camels would have been seeking shelter had there been any in the city, but fortunately, they live in the desert. Unfortunately for Jack Tagger he didn't live in the desert. He called this miserable, disgusting alley home. Piles of garbage lined each wall, flies buzzed like chainsaws over th garbage piles, the constant hum was almost soothing to Jack and as the heat hit its fever pitch Jack slipped into unconsciousness. A particularly rancid bag of garbage was his pillow. The maggots crawled out of the bage and spotted a fresh meal. Jack didn't stir. It wasn't until the gunshot went off that Jack regained consciousness.

"What da hell ish goin on here," his words oozed through a mouth crawling with maggots. He opened his eyes just in time to see a figure running away. He crawled deeper into a pile of garbage.

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Post by Jinx » Sat August 16 03 ; 8 02 pm

A lone figure swaggers down the alley at 2 am in the morning. He's listening to some crappy music cd he found in his crappy cd player that he found in the park that morning. So loud was his cd player that he didn't even here the gun shot ring out in the silence of the night.

A strange figure ran so close in front of him that he reeled backwards, and his crappy player fell to the ground shattering in a pool of blood.

"Wow that's odd" was all he could say before a talking bag of garbage state in a muffled a voice "Hey watchit, idiot! Yo standin on ma face!"

"How'd you know my name. Oh well... sorry, you can have my cd player then," and he continued on to his roommate Flare's appartment.

That's right. The man's name was Id Elliot. He obviously wasn't a very good listener. In fact.. he wasn't much good at anything... He would probably die.
I'm just a messenger.
As James Stewart said, "Prepare to meet thy God!"

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Post by Shareena » Thu August 28 03 ; 10 39 am

A van from the local TV station pulls up and out of the passenger door comes a stylish woman in her late 20s. She's wearing a long trench coat and holding an umbrella to keep the rain off her honey-blonde hair that pulled back in a french twist that was probably very neat earlier in the day, but is now sagging at the back of her neck and has what appears to be the end of a pen sticking out of it. It's Kathy Newman from the evening news.

Out of the back of the van, a handsome, dark-haired man appears carrying a television camera on his shoulder. They were at the station working late editing a story when the call came in over the police scanner and they headed out to cover the story.

She will immediately direct her camera man to get some shots of the dead body before the police cover or bag it. She then approaches the first by-stander or cop she finds and starts asking them what, if anything, they witnessed in relation to the crime.


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Erik Nimblehands
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Post by Erik Nimblehands » Thu August 28 03 ; 10 41 am

"Ah saw it all! It were pandelerium!" A half drunken redneck is the first to walk by, stumbling around without a clue. "That there feller was making a drug deal, yep, so the other feller went and whacked him one! Then he took all the smack and ran away!"
Say no to E-Books! Plant a tree today so that your kids can enjoy a real book tomorrow!

moorow

Post by moorow » Thu August 28 03 ; 2 51 pm

A tall burly fellow, in jeans and a white t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, steps out of the van with a cell phone in one hand. Walking up he appears unphased by the gore filled sight. "Ms. Newman, phone call, Its the boss." he hands her the cell phone.
Giving one quick glance at the carcus he shakes his head and walks back to the van. A large red wrench is very vissibly shoved into the back of his pants. This is by no means a car repair tool. He stops to light a smoke, putting the black & gold pack of maverick kings back into his shirt pocket, in doing so he accidently knocks off his local TV station ID badge, picking it up he wipes off the mud & rain, It says "Carl". He gets back into the driver side off the van and watches from the dry inside. Metallica's "Whiskey In The Jar" plays over the radio, Its volume increases as he absorbs himself in the melody...

OCC: Hello Ms. Newman...thanks for this chance...you rock!

PsyKoSys

Post by PsyKoSys » Thu August 28 03 ; 3 21 pm

Hearing the sound of his favorite reporters voice Jack crawls out from under the garbage pile, clutching his new CD player. He spits the maggots out of his mouth into a big white pile on the ground.

He dusts himself off, pulls a half-eaten sandwich out of his pocket, takes a bite and throws the rest aside. He shakes his head, sending a variety of things flying for cover.

He straightens his jacket, runs his blackened fingers through his hair and struts over to where, Ms. Newman is standing. He waits patiently for her to complete her conversation, occassionally spitting out a half-eaten maggot.

moorow

Post by moorow » Thu August 28 03 ; 4 40 pm

"Whiskey In The Jar" continues to play, but it is nearly over, Carl is totally into it now and is oblivious to the gentleman approaching Ms. Newman...

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Post by Erik Nimblehands » Thu August 28 03 ; 4 43 pm

"Hey, back off, feller, Ah'm talkin' to the ladee rot naow." The redneck gives the nasty hobo a shove, wanting to glom up the limelight. "An' then, shee, a UFO *beep* an' picked up the feller with the smack. Ah think Elvis was drivin' it."
Say no to E-Books! Plant a tree today so that your kids can enjoy a real book tomorrow!

PsyKoSys

Post by PsyKoSys » Thu August 28 03 ; 5 25 pm

Jack coughs on the redneck, covering his face in half chewed maggot carcasses.

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Erik Nimblehands
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Post by Erik Nimblehands » Thu August 28 03 ; 7 20 pm

Bubba, the redneck, breathes alchohol fumes on the bum, knocking him out.
Say no to E-Books! Plant a tree today so that your kids can enjoy a real book tomorrow!

PsyKoSys

Post by PsyKoSys » Thu August 28 03 ; 8 08 pm

Jack pukes on the rednecks feet, the smell of the alcohol making him thristy.

"Sorry 'bout this Ms. Newman. Hope i didn't get none on you. If I did, you just send me the cleaning bill."

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Talon
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Post by Talon » Fri August 29 03 ; 6 58 am

<span style='color:orangered'>3 blocks away, the dark figure in the black duster stops and puts back to a door. as he looks around, he knocks once, waits a few seconds then 4 rapid knocks all in succession. The door opens and a hand pops out and yanks Jared into the building slamming the door shut behind him.</span>
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