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Valucre

scrivener

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  1. Need some burglars...

    i dont know how much slower youre talking but i dont mind slower than what we've been doing if its for two weeks
  2. A Case for Journalistic Integrity

    "Shit." Acorn kicked the table onto its side then grabbed it by the legs to flip it upside down. The table snuffed out the growing flames and Acorn, arms akimbo, addressed Jeremiah over his shoulder. "Wouldn't wanna draw attention our way by leaving a big ol' fire behind us." He found that Jeremiah was already on his way out of the warehouse and turned his walk into a brisk jog so that he could catch up. "I don't pay no nevermind to knee cappin' but I'll tell you this much. I don't like murder, not unless my own life is on the line, self-defense style. I don't like killin'. It makes things messier, cause of the blood, and cause of the law. It just makes me sick to my stomach thinkin someone lost their life over a vase or a painting or some information. It ain't no fun. "Besides which getting too tough gets me a lil green around the gills so if it's all the same to you I'll leave the knees in your hands." Once they got away from the derelict edges of the city and into proper service roads, they were able to hail a cab. Acorn had the cab take them halfway to their target, got out of the cab, hailed another which took them a quarter of the remaining half, and then walked the rest of the way." "Just so's we clear that wasn't no charity. We splittin' that fare." The two men were halfway up the full length of the adjacent parking lot, observing the main building in the shadows of support pillars and obscured by guard rails. They spent hours up there, getting used to the ebb and flow of people. Looking over the NNC, Acorn was brimming over with ideas. There were so many windows that he was sure they were being monitored, but he was just as sure they couldn't monitor every square inch and so started thinking about unconventional entry points. "All them there antennas need servicing, way I see it. Roof entrance is a damn near given but now I'm thinking maybe there's a service access type entrance too. I'm thinking we wanna find out where the cleaning crew keeps their gear, pinch us a few of their uniforms, and try to weasel in the back way. If that don't fly we find a soft-touch receptionist and try to finesse names and schedules outta her."
  3. Need some burglars...

    i dont mind skipping ahead and yes i'd say the next stop for them is the NCC to get a feel for the place and maybe even keep an eye out for the accountant if hes working late or something does that mean tyler is going next for the skip and scene setting stuff?
  4. A Case for Journalistic Integrity

    It took a particularly insensitive sort not to feel the heat of Jeremiah's steady gaze. Acorn was the sensitive sort. He felt Jeremiah taking his measure, ticking off items from a list whose end result would inform Jeremiah of the kind of person he was dealing with. His height and weight were no doubt at the forefront of this list. The nimble fingers of a pickpocket, the calloused hands of a laborer, the bright, lively eyes and quick smile of a con man. But Acorn was good at taking measures too. The man's complexion marked him a foreigner to the Terrenus mainland. He stepped light. He smelled of the grease of gun oil and the acerbic taint of explosive. He had tattoos on his hand whose content hinted at a poetic mind, and poetic minds hinted at intellects which were usually not so dull. When the tape's reel ran out and Jeremiah concluded his survey, he introduced himself to Acorn, and Acorn was obliged to do likewise. "Acorn. Just Acorn. Nice to meet ya bub." When asked for his take on the job, Acorn's lips parted, but the words froze before they could tumble out of his teeth. Jeremiah had kept talking, and Acorn didn't much like what he was saying. "Me? Convince you? You must be flyin' high as a damn bird, fella. I dunno 'bout you but I got called here to do a job, not to convince someone else to do theirs. If you don't like the way the job sounds or the hirin' practices of the client then you can go on and kick rocks – you either get replaced or the whole shindig gets called off. Skin of my teeth? None." Throughout the rhythmic cadence of his speech, Acorn's arms floated up to cross over his chest and his right eyebrow shaped itself into an arch. He didn't budge, and if Jeremiah stuck around to see what else the man might have to say, it would be nearly a half minute before Acorn spoke again. "If all that's outta your system . . ." He uncrossed his arms, eyes widening from the squint of skepticism into the wide-eyed expression of free-flowing thought. "Way I see it, this fella don't know quite what he wants. He wants leverage but he don't know nothing about professional crookin'. He says the only way to get it is to skulk around a crew and an armed patrol? Acorn don't like that. He'll do what needs to be done but if there's an easier way, Acorn likes that more. "I'm thinkin' we go, we case the joint, we see how heavy everythin' is and what it'd take to sneak around a crew and guards without so much as lettin' someone get a glimpse of our fannies. That's a big ask. And if it's too heavy, I think we can find dirt if we follow the money, and to do that, we follow the accountant. Break into their digs while they're at the office and see what we see." Acorn jutted his chin towards Jeremiah interrogatively. "How's that sit wit' ya fella?"
  5. A heist thing in casper

    yeah i'd like that a lot we can do another caper or something make a name for ourselves. i just added an associates section to my sheet and added mensa as a buddy
  6. Need some burglars...

    since it was easy to edit for the time thing i threw in a line about the bounty hunters anyway. anyway liking this rp already and looking forward to more!
  7. Need some burglars...

    that totally works for me. since I skipped the part that would have had acorn talking to his source of info I don't think there's anything for me to update or anything like that but if you want it explicitly added to my post I can throw something in just let me know
  8. A heist thing in casper

    @amenities since the museum is yours are you the person that approves canon for it? let me know if theres anything i should change to make sure i'm respecting your lore well
  9. To the victor

    Minor summary Acorn buys information on the Dragon Iris art museum and targets a painting for theft. He hires a partner through criminal contacts and together they stage a break in, grab the painting, narrowly avoid getting caught by guards and the police, and fence their stolen goods. Full summary The cook of the Aria pirate ship has landed back in his home town (ish) of Casper, ready to embark on a caper and make some money to send back home. He gets information on a piece of art in the Dragon Iris that will soon be very highly valued, but isn't yet, and sets up a job to heist it. He puts the word out through the criminal underworld and the thread starts with him waiting for his partner in crime. After explaining the plan to Mensa, the two head into Casper proper to verify the information that Acorn has bought on the location and get familiar with the target. Acorn disguises himself expertly before doing son and then takes Mensa on a walking tour of the museum, where he points out visible security measures as well as the painting they're interested – Smile of a Sad Clown. They return later that night to put their plan into action, synchronously knocking out two guards. They don't make it much further than that before there's a wrinkle in their plan in the shape of a guard that wasn't listed on the detail. He attacks them with a vertigo-inducing sonic attack. Thanks to his knowledge of bardic magic Acorn is able to neutralize the attack and give Mensa the opportunity to knock him out. Unfortunately their scuffle is loud and draws more attention. They cut the painting out of its frame and have to fight their way out before the police come on the scene. Once they're out of the museum Acorn reveals his escape plan, taking them down winding paths to a manhole and then down into the sewer where an inflatable raft awaited them. He lets the current take them through the sewer, using an iron hook to take turns as needed, and they emerge at the city limits. Acorn leaves Mensa at a safe house, sells the piece to the fence, takes his share, and joins up with Mensa again to tell him where and when he can pick up his own share. Consequences A work of cultural importance is stolen and sold on the black market A museum is broken into, causing the security team to review the crime and beef up their security as a response A private investigator company is hired to track down the stolen art Opportunities Work with the investigator company to track down the stolen goods Work with the local police to track down the criminals
  10. To the victor

    (Since I didn't hear back and this can be the last post before canon I'll just finish us off here. Thanks for helping me with the heist! Let's do another crime thing in the future) Mensa agreed with the plan. Acorn took a creased pad from his person, scribbled down a list of names and addresses, and handed it off to Mensa. "If you get caught, burn it. Those are safe locations. Every hour, or sooner, until I get back move to a new place. If someone's on our trail that should keep them guessing." Acorn gave Mensa an ironic salute, as if either of them would ever be caught dead in a cop's outfit or soldier's uniform, and rushed off into the city proper, his dark clothes allowing him to blend into the shadows almost at once. It took Acorn three times the amount of time to get to his fence as it would have taken him otherwise if he wasn't dead-set on taking the most confusing, circuitous path there that he could. The fence was a jeweler. His residence was attached to his shop, the second floor of a two-story building. Acorn stalked the alleys to get to the back. There was a back door, and an entrance to the cellar. The door Acorn knew to be locked, and could tell even from this distance in the dim conditions of a single porch light that the lock was heavy duty. The cellar door, however, was slightly ajar. The fence was waiting for him. He verified the goods and honored his end of the deal. Acorn took his share of the rhodium. "I can't carry the whole kitty all at once. I'll send my partner to pick up his share in the morning. It's been nice doing bidness wit' ya." (End thread)
  11. Need some burglars...

    that's two things so for the travel that's easy enough i'll just change it to 2 or 3 days. i can also change his mode of transpo to something that can fly which usually makes things easier cause its a straight line but that may not be necessary. as for the other thing i was figuring itd be something like a big game of telephone which is why i was kinda vague about it and just skipped him to norkotia afterwards. something like your guy looks in norkotia and maybe someone there passes it down to different orgs or guilds and my guy catches wind that way cause otherwise he'd have to have a reason to be there AND hear about it AND trust that it's a legit job, or he'd have to be a local pretty much. hows that sound?
  12. A Case for Journalistic Integrity

    Acorn was in the moldy room of a dingy little inn located in the more derelict parts of Casper. He had just finished a caper, less 'big' and more 'chubby', and was tabulating how much money he had left after the fence's cut, splitting the take with his partner, and sending off the lion's share back home to help pay off a substantial familial debt his father had accrued before his untimely passing. The short answer was: plenty, but not enough. So he finished his bitter coffee, smoked a bitter pipe, and went downstairs to the innkeeper so as to convert a small amount of rhodium for a larger amount of gold and silver before settling his bill. He still had more on him than he liked to carry, so he gave this to the first mate of the Aria and went to even shadier parts of Casper to look for more work before his furlough ran up. He found that work on the lips of two foreign bounty hunters holed up in Casper, talking about a place he'd never heard of before and a job that fit right into his wheelhouse. Three days later Acorn pressed his back against the leather seat and his index finger against the button on his arm rest. The hum of the motor rolling the window down was dim, barely louder than the whine of the rubber wheels against a paved road. He looked out of the window at Norkotia's skyline – Acorn had never seen something quite like it. He'd been to Hell's Gate. He knew about skyscrapers and complexes. But he'd never seen something like it outside of Hell's Gate, at this scale, with so many buildings made of what looked like poured concrete rather than metal or shaped earth. He'd been to Tia. Had seen their automatic wagons. But had never been in one that that wasn't designed for the all-terrain of the Wilds, but for the paved roads, of which there were more than he had seen in anywhere on Valucre. It was something alright. When he finished up the job he might stick around to see how these people made and moved their money, and maybe even spend some time chasing after the local women. The cab came to a stop at the last diner before one pushed towards the edge of town, and out of it. he waited for the cab to depart then walked past the dinner, towards that edge, to a fringe populated mostly with emaciated warehouses. Strict adherence to instructions eventually brought Acorn before a brick warehouse. Acorn put up the collar of his coat and mused to himself. "Hmmmm.' He was circumspect. Rather than heading down a line to the warehouse, he walked a circle around it. Finding no snipers in nests or bruisers lurking in shadows, he entered the warehouse through a side entrance. There was nothing of interest anywhere in the warehouse except at its center, which bore a table, upon which sat a recorder. "Hmmmm." He mused again. This time he waited, seated on an empty crate, amusing himself by fiddling a coin between his fingers. Before too long someone else entered the warehouse. He wasn't reckless or loud, but also made no attempt at caution – he just walked right up to the table and lifted the paper next to the device. Acorn held his breath. When local police didn't swarm the warehouse for a sting, he let the breath out with a word. "Hey." Then stepped out of the shadows. "Play the damn thing I guess."
  13. Need some burglars...

    hey @Tyler just to let you know your norkotia page says additional text here near the top
  14. To the victor

    Acorn screamed as he went down, and then kept on screaming. The bolt had only partially embedded into his clothes, and the half-contact wasn't enough to steal from him the full breadth of his conscious mind. Even as he struggled to stand his voice continued to climb in both volume and pitch, until it reached levels beyond mortal ambition to grasp. Acorn stepped close to Mensa so that the other was behind him, shielded from the brunt of his forward-facing screech by the Doppler effect, and granted a front row seat to watching the two guards fall to their knees, hands pressed against their ears, weapons clattering to the ground. He wasn't prepared to keep the scream up forever. His breath was running out and so the screech was lessening in intensity. The guards remained conscious and now fixed their eyes on Acorn, the flames of revenge burning behind the windows of their eyes. Acorn cut himself abruptly short and let Mensa clean up the mess. He relieved them of duty by way of his own flames, striking them about the face and body with quick brutality and leaving them slumped and swollen on the ground. Acorn took the opportunity to relieve one guard of his bolt gun, and both of their ammunition. He shot them with stunners as a parting gift, just to make sure they wouldn't wake up for a while. With a jerk of his head, Acorn and Mensa were making their way out of the art gallery. There were no sirens. The Constabulary did not announce their presence so garishly. But he saw lights in the distance, weaving between buildings. Another minute and they might have been thrown in the slammer. Acorn took Mensa through a few wicked turns down narrow, steamy, garbage-filled alleys and stopped outside the back end of a dive bar. From behind a dumpster Acorn claimed an iron rod with a hooked end. He used the hook end to leverage a manhole cover out of the way, slip down inside, and then slid it back into place once Mensa was inside. At the bottom an inflatable 2-person raft waited for them, tethered to a drainage pipe. They rode in it for about half an hour, Acorn guiding them by using the iron hook to swing them down appropriate channels which followed a map only he knew. His final hook brought them to a stop. Once they were on dry footing he popped the raft and let it sink to the bottom of the sewer. When they came back out into the fresh air, they were on the edge of town. The sun was a few hours away from rising. "We go to the safehouse, sit on this egg until daybreak, then we get our asses to the fence and get this thing," He patted the cannister securely strapped to his back. "Off our hands and get our rhodium. Then we don't see each other again until the next job. How's that sound?" (Grim if you post again I figure you can have us going to the fence and getting paid and all that)
  15. Need some burglars...

    i'll have what diremast is having
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