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 No.704875[View All]

No more bamboozles! Probably.
172 posts and 4 image replies omitted. Click reply to view.


"Yeah. If there's any survivors, we'll be sure to do everything we can to help. I'm not sure what to make of the captain yet, but… I'm pretty confident things'll go alright."


Glitter seems to be keeping to herself right now. You can hear Mae, Amelia and Copper having a good chat nearby though, and Poncho and Scratch up near the bridge as well. Everyone else seems to have relegated to their rooms.

Amy nods sagely, as if discussing high philosophy with a fellow intellectual. "The pizza scale. Way at the bottom are shitty unedible dumpster fire pizzas - " she stops to take another bite - "then everything else is good. Up the top are the weird fancy ones with avocado and sour cream and shit. No good."

Mae stops mid bite as you mention them, quickly swallowing. "Oh that? It's nothing, just a dumb hobby I have. I just think they're neat. They're from this show I used to watch, sometimes." She seems kind of embarrassed by it.

Once she finishes, she goes and serves herself a glass of cold water. "Drinks, anyone?"

She smiles confidently. "Y-Yeah. We'll pull through. Euryale should be a good stop. Th-there's a bunch of work opportunities there! Plenty of time to get properly s-stocked for the trip, you know? And make some extra money, maybe h-hire a few other hands… We'll be s-set!"



You come across an unoccupied room. There's quite a few of them, as the ship is meant for a larger crew than what it currently has. Powder Keg is aware of you following behind him and picks up the pace, feeling a bit uncomfortable. The room you find has the same setup as in >>706087


FJS looks around at the nobody that's around and shrugs. "Sorry, G. I know how bad you probably want to talk to her!"

"Told you not to do it." Gigi says halfheartedly. "You're just going to embarrass both of us."

"I'll try again later! For now I'm gonna go make more friends." He spims on his toes and heads towaednmae, Amelia, and copper's voices.

Frank squealed as he saw his room. It was great! He had no idea what he was going to do with it, but it was great! He walled in and sat down, waiting for something to do.


As you start to get comfy, the captain's voice crackles through the ship's intercom. "Alright you slags. Report to the hold. Got some announcements to make." Mae looks at Copper knowingly, implying you should just do as he says.

The whole crew gather in the main hold. Garebold, looking worse for wear, is standing near the top level of the ship, on the platform that leads to the bridge, Dashpot at his side silently. He motions for Mae to join him.

"Okay, so, we'll be reaching Euryale soon. About an hour to go. We'll be making port there a while, so you'll be able to make yourselves comfortable. Might pick up another one of youse on the way. You'll have time to do some other odd jobs while I sort out some business on this dump." You notice Mae looks uncomfortable at this, giving him an odd look, but she stays silent.

"For now though," he continues, "you bums have got work to do. I want all these crates we got lying around sorted." he points out the plethora of shipping containers in the main hold. "I'm not having you on the ship for nothing. You got one hour. Step to."

Dashpot oversees the task, lending a hand where he can. Mae joins in hoisting the crates as well, while Garebold retreats to the bridge. Sorting the crates turns out to be an arduous process, and extremely hard work. Some of the crates are borderline unmanageable even between all of you. You're exhausted by the time you're done (with the exception of Frank; assumedly, robots don't get tired). Amelia grumbles indistinctly about Garebold, while Sunny and Scratch look like death warmed up.

"Brace for landing," Garebold barks through the intercom eventually. Through the windows, you can see the ship approaching Euryale, a large, solid blue planet with patches of silver here and there. The ship descends to the largest of these patches, which turns out to be the capital, the unimaginatively titled Euryale City. As the Karaboudjan enters the atmosphere, you find luck isn't on your side; it's raining something fierce, making the ship rock and shudder uncomfortably. Euryale City is a striking sight even in the limited visibility, a thriving upscale metropolis of white, round tipped skyscrapers and squat dome shaped buildings. It seems to be built vertically, with different layers representing different districts.

You descend onto a landing platform, giving you access to explore the city for a while. Garebold and Dashpot stay with the ship; the latter announces that if you're looking for work while you're here, there's a freelancer outpost nearby that would have some odd jobs available for spacers like yourselves. Garebold, Dashpot, Sunny and Scratch stay on board, the latter two still catching their breath from hauling the crates, while Mae, Amelia and Keg offer to come with you if you want to go exploring. Alternatively, you could stay on board a while and chat with the crew some more.


"I'm going fishing. Anyone wanna rent some rods with me?"

Copper says, heading out the door,

"Can sell what we catch or pack it for later. Who knows, maybe we'll catch some alien monster and we get something to shoot."


"Man, that was fun," Frank says. "Sorting all that junk was like a game! This here, that there, that there, 'oops, that one's in the wrong spot', 'but I was told it goes here', 'no, no, it goes over there'. You just make up the rules as you go." He looks around. "I think I'm gonna go check out that freelance job thingy. I'll leave FJS here in case anything needs fixed or the three of you get bored," he tells Dashpot, Sunny, and Scratch.

"Yeah, let's go, like, rent some rods and shoot some aliens bro!"


"Hey, shooting was conditional. Mostly lookin to chill on the docks for a while, not adrenaline filled shooty-ness."


Frank paused with his chassis partially open and his modified arc welder already halfway out of his chest. Slowly he pulled it back in and closed it again. "Right. I knew that. I mean just in case, right?"



With cartor doing most of the box sorting, Coronet rests easy on his top once again, the bot clomping onto the landing platform as she looks around for that outpost.

"Alright, time to roll out, Cartor! lets find us a delivery job or somethin so we can ride the contract out nice and easy, not all that excited to get shot at today."


Glitter steps off from the ship and stretches a bit.
"Well, while you all do that, I think I might walk around and explore a bit. May not be here long, but maybe something fun could be going on."


Poncho's more than happy to help sort the crates, despite the unexpected difficulty of something this simple. After they finish up the griffon settles in to rest for a little while- hopefully, he'll feel up to taking a look around!
"Oh! Anything you happen to have in mind? I'd like to come along, if you'll have me.


"Hmm…not really anything in mind. Just sorta go around and sight-see a bit. So if you wanna tag along for random direction walking, then sure!"


"Fine gramps, rather you use to light a barbeque though."

Copper says, shrugging.


"Sure! Taking a look seems fun!"


"Ain't got time to get bored," Dashpot answers coolly, "but I 'ppreciate the company." Sunny and Scratch retire to their rooms, all tuckered out.

Mae decides to go off shopping on her own, restocking on supplies for the journey, while Amelia tags along with her, eager to stretch her legs. Keg offers to tag along with you. "Never been here before," he comments. "It'll be fun to get to know the place a bit, plus we need to track down a replacement crystal. Don't know much about fishing, but I'm down for it for sure."

You head out from the hangar. As you exit the Karaboudjan, your path is blocked as you are greeted by an unfriendly sight: an untrustworthy looking felid is standing there holding a datapad, flanked by a couple of armed thugs. All of them are wearing raincoats to avoid the bad weather. "Hey, you're not supposed to be here," he says, waving about the datapad importantly. "This spot's reserved. You'll have to pay a docking fee. 40 sovs from each of you." Keg's eyes narrow. "This stinks to me," he comments quietly.


"Fuck off."

Copper says, taking out her quad barreled shotgun,

"We're not your average spineless traders. The 40 sovs from all of us won't pay for the hospital bill for the hole in your chest."

>how Them You Rock: Automatic Instant, recharge 5; Force your point of view on someone else. This allows allows one verbal based skill or skill check to automatically succeed.(i.e. Bluff, Inspire) This does not work on characters with a resistant mind.(A GM can rule that player characters all have resistant minds.)


"Oh, hey! I know this one. This is a toll hustle. I've never been hustled before. Man, I wish I had some money with me. It's not a real hustle unless I actually get extorted. Will you guys take scrap metal and electronic parts? I have some of those."


Poncho frowns a little bit at the attempted extortion, fiddling with the collar of his poncho absentmindedly as he lets Copper handle it!


She had a yawn as she listened, then sees Copper doing her thing.
"Indeed. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have sights to see," she says and opts to simply walk past them like they didn't exist at this point.



"It'd be a good move to listen to her, gents." says coronet, pointing a wing at Copper. "I'm adverse to brawling, but uh, she most certainly isn't."


"…Wha?" The thugs just look confused at your cheeriness, unsure of how to react.

"Yeah, piss off," Keg adds, stepping closer to them, brandishing a crowbar. "You're not getting a cent out of us. Jog on."

"Alright, alright, sheesh." The felid puts his hands up defensively and motions for the others to stand down. He's about to say something else, but instead heads off, leaving through the hangar door. "Wankers," Keg growls. "Talk about a warm welcome, eh."

You move on through the door. The thugs have already vanished from sight. You can see that you have exited into a bustling sector of Euryale. The predominant colors in the city seem to be white and silver. The smooth, rounded architecture all looks very clean, a stark contrast to the dirty deal you just talked your way out of. Much of Euryale is made of towering megastructures flanked by floating platforms like the one you are currently on, with forcefields around the edges to prevent an untimely demise. Blinkers* zoom by below and above you, flying in the spaces between platforms. Holographic advertisements blare from the megastructures, and some 3D holograms even walk the streets, loudly advertising to anyone who'll hear.

You can see several points of interest from where you are right now:

There is the obligatory bar, a fancy looking place called the Eye-Kon. A glowing neon sign advertises a karaoke night tomorrow.

Nearby is what appears to be a junk shop, selling all sorts of spare parts and offering professional vehicle repairs.

There is also a large dome-shaped building that offers rentable boats and suits to go diving in Euryale's waters, as well as selling general outdoors goods. Seems to be a tourist attraction.

Finally, you can see a holo arena being advertised. Seems there's a tournament going on. Betting on the tournament is being loudly advertised by a tiny floating ball of a robot, much to the chagrin of passers by.

>*Flying vehicles common in the Empire. Analogous to cars.


Frank points to the bar. "Oh, we should do karaoke tomorrow!" he says. "Like real friends." His head shifts toward the junk store. "And I wanna look at that too." He looks up at the dome. "Oh, oh, and that." He gasps and points to the robot. "And that guy looks like he really knows what's up, too. We should definitely check that out."


You also see one of the nearby megastructures has a door built into it with no title above it, save for a single symbol depicting a yellow hand. "That'll be the outpost," says Keg. "I'd know that logo anywhere. It's an old spacer symbol. Worked for them before."



"Woah, this place is HUGE! I don't even know where the start looking around and all!" Glitter looks about and listens to many of the advertisements. Hearing the ball robot, Glitter's ears perk slightly at that.
"Oh! That could be fun to watch! What do you think, Poncho? Wanna see people get beat up…virtually, of course."


"Eh, there's gonna be guys like that everywhere. No sense swelling on it, though! Let's wander!" he chirps, before flicking his ear and listening to the little white cuck ballfloating robot. He smiles a little, and nods in agreement with Glitter "Yeah, could be pretty fun. What've we got to lose?"


"You kids have fun beating people up. Don't get too rowdy, though."


"Don't worry, we'll only be watching!"


"Our money, but that's only if we bet."

"Oh, no worries. We'll just be watching mostly, I think."


"Aha, there we are, the outpost."

tapping Cartor's chassis, Coronet sends the bot marching towards the outpost entrance, bat in tow.


"So Keg, you a fan of keggers? Was thinking we grab enough for the two of us since Papa Franku over here-"
"Wait you can't drink right? Just rust you out right?-"

Copper switches from Keg to Frank, before turning back to Frank without waiting for Frank to answer,

"Anyways grab some local brews, go to the hunting shop and see if there's any places to buy our catches if there are any nearby, grab our rods or what not, and head out to somewhere with an umbrella."


His shoulders sag, and in a somber tone he says, "Yeah. I can't. Wish I could. Honestly I wish I could actually taste or feel any kind of sensation at all, but I know I never will." He perks back up and canned laughter plays over his speaker. "But if I stick a really strong magnet to the side of my head it has the same effect as drinking I think!"

"No," Gigi says. "Frank, don't do that again. I had to manually repair you after last time, and that's a pain."


"It's fiiiine, it's just for socializing, ain't looking to get wasted. You can have a good time without it."


You head towards the arena. You can hear thumping techno music coming from inside, and an indecipherable announcer's voice. The building itself is a gaudy bright red pyramid shape, with several holographic posters outside the main entrance promoting several fighters.

There's Frankie Four Fingers, a buff shirtless minotaur flexing dramatically and showering in rose petals; Nox, a black, green eyed Felid in a black hooded trenchcoat wielding an impractically huge scythe and glaring out at the audience; Helter Skelter, a mean looking pegasus doing midair cartwheels with two snub nosed shotguns and a cowboy hat; and The Snitch, a cobra-like saurian doing tricks with a butterfly knife and flashing a sneaky grin.

The crowd outside seem to be lining up to place bets at an alcove outside the entrance, chattering excitedly. It seems these four are going to be duking it out in a fight in the semifinals tomorrow, and they're placing bets on who will win or lose. The alcove is run by a bookie, a blue slime pony in a baseball cap with a crooked smile. Behind him is a constantly updating chart of their odds, as well as a "graveyard" with a list of other defeated fighters. It seems The Snitch has the highest odds statistically, while Helter Skelter has the lowest; however, a couple of crowd goers seem to be rooting for Frankie's victory and the Snitch's destruction.

You head to the outpost. Inside is a fairly bland looking reception area like what you'd find in any other office, attended by a young adult mare with horn rimmed glasses and her mane in a bun. She's tapping away on a datapad, but looks up to you expectantly, chewing on some gum. "Hey there. What can I help you with?"

"Very funny," he says. "I'd love to grab a drink, but we do have to take care of that crystal. I was thinking of heading to the junk shop, but it might be better to let the old guard take care of that. Their ship after all, not ours."

You enter the bar with Keg. In stark contrast to where you were before, the Eye-Kon is a swanky looking place with glowing blue neon lights, well dressed bartenders and rather fancy clientele, even at this time of day. There is a stage for live music, where a duet of smooth voiced zebras are singing a slow, jazzy tune to a captive audience. The bartender, a middle aged donkey with a scar over his left temple, waves and nods in greeting before going about his usual business, doing a bit of a double take at the sight of Frank. "Nice place," Keg comments. "Bit fancier than what I normally do, but not bad at all. At least it's not Hemera."


Frank waltzes up to the bar like he owns the place and leans on the counter. "Gimme a double espresso macchiato on the rocks, cover it, chunk it, and make it cry." He laughs before the 'joke' even has a chance to set in. "I'm kidding. I'm a robot. I don't actually drink. Fooled you for a second there, didn't I. I was just wondering if you had a keg for sale for my apprentice Keg." He points to Keg. "Preferably a copper one for my buddy Copper." He points to copper. "Care to hook a brother up? Also where'd you get that neat scar?"


"Be Frank with me, too. For me. Frank." He points to himself.


Dismounting Cartor, Coronet waves a wing at the receptionist in greeting.

"Yo. I heard you might be hiring for some odd jobs around here, got a party of five in need of sovereigns, anything on the board?"



Glitter looks between the four fighters. So much excitement in the air, she could practically taste it. It was making it kinda hard to not bet on someone right now.
"Hey, Poncho, dunno about you but…I kinda wanna make a bet now. I mean, we'd still be watching, so not like we'd be completely lying to everyone, right?"


Poncho giggles a little as he looks over the list of fighters, especially the scythe-wielding cat.

"Hmm… I think it'd be worth a shot, yeah. I think I like either Frankie or Helter the most. They just seem really silly."


"Damn, not even like a buzz? I mean I guess I can drink all by myself then, no fun there though. I'll see what everyone orders here and and sample the local brew. Don't want to drink a keg by myself."

"Don't give him trouble Frank. How's your day been?"

Copper says to the bartender, smiling.


"Awe. I was just playing. He seems like a cool guy, and this place is nice."


"Heh, yeah. Feels more like a quirky movie cast than an arena thing, ya know?" She can't help but giggle herself, especially with the image of Frankie posing and flexing sort of reminding her of Copper.
"Hmm…dang, kinda hard to pick. Oh, I know! You bet one one, and I'll bet on the other!"


The bartender looks taken aback. A couple of patrons turn heads at your loud display. "Um… We do sell kegs, yeah. And uh… rowdy customer."

"Well… I guess it can't hurt to have a couple." He grins.

"Slow day I guess." The bartender shrugs. "Nothing changes but the weather 'round here, you know?"

"So, what'll it be, spacers?" He folds his arms. "Kegs? Local brews? Cocktails? Anything in between?"

She nods thoughtfully, tapping away on her datapad and bringing up a holographic list for you to choose from. "Take your pick. Got plenty of work available."

You see Garebold has your mission listed. It looks like he's still looking for one more crewman.

There's a bounty out on a local gang that have been harrassing spacers coming in. You feel like you might've run into them. It says to report to the local police department for more info on dispersing them. The bounty is 3000 sovs if you can complete the task.

There's also a report of an AI gone rogue in an offworld medical facility orbiting Euryale. The coordinates are listed there; you would need only to plug them into the ship to travel to the Trismegistus Hospital Station, which is currently under quarantine. Sounds dangerous.

There's another, smaller job available: someone called Winding Rill needs transport offplanet. It might be best to check with the captain about this one.

The queue gradually thins, and the spot to place a bet becomes open. "Step right up, folks!" the goo pony bookie burbles. "Step right up! Lookin' to place a bet? Odds on Frankie are 3 to 1!"


"Mhmm! My thoughts exactly! I'll go ahead and put my money on Helter Skelter!"

"My money's on Helter Skelter, if ya please!" the griffon says, setting down… 40 sovereigns!


"Crowd changes though, I would think. Goons always shake folk down outside the landing bay?"

Copper asks the bartender, sitting on one of the barside seats,

"What do you drink Keg? I'll have what you're having."


Glitter comes up next to him, setting down some sovereigns as well.
"I'll also put up 40, but on Frankie, please."


"I get that a lot for some reason."

"Yeah. Those guys really were somethin', huh? Walked away without even taking anything." He sits down next to Copper.

FJS follows Dashpot to see what he's up to. "So what do you do when you're actually on the ship? Do you always play recruiter?"


"Again, they don't expect someone to blast a hole open in them on their home turf."

Copper giggles,

"To be honest, I don't think I would be able to either. Worst would be a warning shot. That'd get authorities involved."


"Brave choice!" he says cheerily, registering your bet. He tells you a little about Helter Skelter: a well traveled spacer and part time bounty hunter, Helter Skelter is a crack shot with his guns, one of the best slingers in the 'verse. He's a one time champion of the arena on planet Dylath, and got second place in last year's tournament here on Euryale. The others, however, are slightly more qualified than him by a margin, so he's a bit of an underdog this year. "He may pull through yet though!" the bookie concludes. "Good luck, chum!"
>-40 sovs

He nods and shrugs. "That'd be Jody Domingre's gang. They've been roughin' up newcomers for going' on a year now. Haven't been able to uproot 'em yet, but someday, maybe."

Keg shrugs and grabs himself a huge, frothing mug of house brew ale. He toasts silently and downs most of it in one swig. "'S alright, I guess," he shrugs. The bartender looks a little miffed.

"Good choice, good choice." You learn a bit about Frankie: a newcomer to the arena, he's gone undefeated since he started. He's young, cocky and an extremely skilled bare hand fighter. He even beat the previous three time champion, Garland Ferris, in one of the tournament matches. No one knows how he lost his finger. "Best of luck!" says the bookie. "This is gonna be his biggest challenge yet!"
>-40 sovs

You follow Dashpot as he heads to the bridge, stopping him in his tracks. He looks a little irritated by the interruption, but he brushes it off. "Well, I'm the pilot," he answers. "Cap's my copilot. Used to be the other way 'round, but… well, situation done changed. I'm the first mate, so I get to do a lot of the dirty work. Including admin stuff like recruiting newbies, I guess. Mae ought to be the one doin' it, but she deserves a break. Last mission was… Well, you don't need to know about that." He gives you a warm smile.


"Oh, this should be really fun! I hope they all play it up a lot!"

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