The Crater Free Form RP

Welcome to the Crater!

What is free form RP?-Free form RP is just that role-playing without a game master. The players are both the characters in the story and the guiding influence in the tale being told as well.

If there is no Game Master how do we know who wins or loses?-The point of this game is not who wins or loses, but to tell a tale, and to interact with other Defiance fans in an RP setting.

There must be some rules?-Yes be kind to everyone. No god gaming. You should never make someone else's character do anything.

EXAMPLE-

Wrong-(I shoot my gun at Tim. The bullet hits him, and he dies.)-Tim has no say, he just dies.

Right-(I draw my weapon, and aim. I fire at Tim, hoping my aim is true.)-Tim can now post a reply on what happened to his character.

Now lets look how Tim might reply-

Wrong-(The bullet completely misses me. I laugh at my assailants poor aim.)-Degrades the original poster, and suggests actions.

Right-(At the last second I throw my body to the ground, and the bullet whizzes over my head.)-Allows the OP to maintain his view of his character. Both parties can continue from here.


IC/OOC- All posts will be considered IC or In Character unless bracketed, and using the OOC or Out Of Character tag

The setting-
The Crater. A great bar in the bay area. It is owned by Varus Soleptor. Baybee Doll is a dancer/waitress and is often on the premises. The exterior porch is open to everyone, and many Bay residents enjoy having a drink, and listening to KTAM on the radio. The inside however is restricted to VIPs, No Ark Hunters allowed!

Sam Skatch arrived at the Crater early in the evening. It was after all a Saturday night, and he had been invited by Varus to set up, and provide some live entertainment. His two E-Rep body guards, along with his Tech man Tim followed him closely.

"Hey you two don't just stand there! Help Tim get all this equipment out of the roller. We don't have all night!"

Sam shouted at the E-Rep soldiers. Shrugging, and somewhat used to Skatch's yammering they simply complied. Sam looked around. The crowd was lite, but it was still early. plenty of time for people to arrive. People Sam knew needed to hear the good word of the Earth Republic.

Wes Allbright sipped his beer as he watched Sam give orders to his E-Rep lackeys and thought, "What's that big mouth E-Rep kissing fella up to with all that equipment?

*taps fellow Crater Crasher on the head to get his attention*

"Watch those E-Rep tenderfoots struggle with those boxes."

Then!

Nefarious comes in and shoots everyone with a syphon SAW.

Everyone warps into purple mist!

Then Nefarious says..."That's what its like to chew 5 gum! Stimulate the senses!"

..and then walks out.

http://wac.450f.edgecastcdn.net/8045...-fieri-gif.gif

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Wess Allbright

Wes Allbright sipped his beer as he watched Sam give orders to his E-Rep lackeys and thought, "What's that big mouth E-Rep kissing fella up to with all that equipment?

*taps fellow Crater Crasher on the head to get his attention*

"Watch those E-Rep tenderfoots struggle with those boxes."

---

Skatch went over all of his equipment double checking all the cables, and wires. He saw the "Crater Crashers" looking on with that same slack jawed grin he had seen from them on most occasions. Cheap beer, and pow meat dulled the senses, and made watching people move crates entertaining.

No mind Skatch thought. The show will go on, and if anyone steps out of line then the E-Rep security would be here to handle them.

I don't mean to be a buzzkill but this is not story or lore. This belongs in off-topic.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Escyos

I don't mean to be a buzzkill but this is not story or lore. This belongs in off-topic.

---

OOC: (No buzz-kill here! I am used to the negativity on these forums. This is a Story about Defiance lore. Seems like the right place to me. Now if it was WoW or some other game then sure. Dont be shy folks! Feel free to saddle on up to the bar, and have a drink.)

RP is entirely 'Story and Lore' as long as there isn't a Roleplay thread.

And I'm not even a RPer.

Wes looks at Skatch checking all his wires and connections and says:

"Please tell me your not gonna sing. Cause if you are then I need to get my box of rotten tomatoes."

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Nefarious

Everyone warps into purple mist!

---

No rebuttal. And no one maintained the views of their characters. In turn my actions have taken place in this role play.

You all have been syphoned warped.

From here on out you are in a new and strange dimension where all syphoned warped ppl go when shot by syphoned guns and get warped.

Describe where you are and the things you see.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Nefarious

No rebuttal. And no one maintained the views of their characters. In turn my actions have taken place in this role play.

You all have been syphoned warped.

From here on out you are in a new and strange dimension where all syphoned warped ppl go when shot by syphoned guns and get warped.

Describe where you are and the things you see.

---

[You zapped everyone and gave nobody a chance to react. Look at the First Example at the start of this thread. Yea you did that. It was wrong. You should have done something like this:Nefarious comes in, pulls out his syphon SAW and brandishes it with cold death in his eyes as he starts ripping hot lead into everyone. Should have stopped here and gave ppl time to react.

Since you "syphoned warped" everyone without giving them a chance to respond it must be that YOU are in a strange dimension. Maybe you were shot from behind and zapped there without you knowing and now everyone is just a ghost to you and unable to percieve your actions. Give it another try]

*Wes Allbright feels a cold chill run up his spine and shudders*

"Damn. A cold chill just hit me."

* takes another pull off his beer and checks his Hailer for any new messages*

With the sun hanging low on the horizon, and a full day of hunting and general wandering under his belt, Keevan rolls into the lot of the crater bar in his battle scarred and lovingly worn roller.

Stepping out into the cool evening breeze, he glances over at the ghost form of Nefarious, and tilting his head askew...silently wonders what clamity befell this particular arkhunter.

Bemusing the frantic motions of the ghost for a moment, Keevan walks up on the porch and heads on over to the cooler to grab a few cold ones as a reward for a fruitfull day...in passing, he nods knowingly to the crater crasher crew as he moves on over to the barstools to take a load off.
glancing over his shoulder, he lifts a cold one in a salute to Skatch, and without missing a beat, spits into the dirt with a glaring eye at the e-rep stooges fumbling attempts at maneuvering crates and equipment into the crater bar.

Sighing to himself, he comments to the arkbelt and no one in general by gently mumbling "Jek E-rep, and the pow they rode in on..." and commences to hunkering down for a fairly enjoyable evening of entertainment, and bemusement at the ramblings of a corporate tool....

[while Sam Skatch is still setting up his big deal show. this crap happens enjoy]

After KeevanSixx roller drives up and he takes a cold one at the bar. Another roller drives up to the petrahal pumps. Out steps a grizzeled old farmer a teenage girl and a young boy.

The farmer passes Wess with a tip of his straw hat and the girl gives him a big friendly hug and says: "Pa is still thankfull for you saving him from those Hellbugs a few weeks back. He and Ma been fighten past couple days tho cause he wont give her some d ickens Cider when she wants. Little Jimmy has something to tell you tho"

*Wes Albrights hailer beeps and he's gotten a text from Jimmy Jay and reads it out loud for all to hear*

Jimmy Jay text: I been taken care of our champ Wes. I even gave him a name.

[Little Jimmy Jay was born mute. He uses his hailer to communicate. He can also wright English and Castithan]

Wes says: "You look after your Pa now Judy. He's a Damn good farmer to compete with Happy Pow Farms."

*turning to Jimmy Jay and ruffling his hair he says* [from here Jimmy is JJ ]

Wes: "So whats this about a name?"

*JJ tapps on his hailer n Wes gets the text*

JJ txt: I call him Spitfire!

"Spitfire!" Wes exclaims.

JJ txt: Yea cause when he wins people spit fire at you and when he looses you spit fire at them.

*JJ smiles proudly at Wes*

[ok Jimmy Jay is missing his two front teeth. You get the idea. You gotta love 'em]

Wes: "ok lets see 'em."

*JJ pulls a hand sized box from his coat pocket and opens the lid a bit for Wes to peak inside*

[inside the box is a roach the size of a mans thumb. yea that's right a big nasty strong lookin roach. get over it]

Wes: "Looks like he's grown a bit?"

JJ txt: Should have. I've fed him the best table scraps we have. Even got whacked 'side the head a few times by Pa cause he says them good food scraps need to feed those pows not some Damn bug! I think he still has nightmares 'bout the Hellbugs.

Wes: "You're a Damn fine boy Jay Jay. Dont you let your Dad get to you. He was in a bad situation with them bugs till the Crater Crashers came along."

*Wes pulls JJ close and says to his fellow Crashers and anyone who cares to hear*

"How about it boys? Anyone up for a Roach Race?!"

*a couple crashers exclaim their ready and one pulls a 5 foot long plank from behind some chairs with two lines marked START! at one end n FINNISH! at the other*

[i'm gonna stop it hear and let you guys decide if you want to race your roach. if so lets hear his name/number or what ever. i suppose we can do a random roll for the winner based on how many wants to participate. if none then we can all watch the Crashers wail and cheer in the bar and wonder what the heck is going on]

[btw welcome to the Jay Jay family Farm. Jonny Jay, father. Jeda Jay, mother. Judy Jay, daughter. Jimmy Jay, son]

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Wess Allbright

[You zapped everyone and gave nobody a chance to react. Look at the First Example at the start of this thread. Yea you did that. It was wrong. You should have done something like this:Nefarious comes in, pulls out his syphon SAW and brandishes it with cold death in his eyes as he starts ripping hot lead into everyone. Should have stopped here and gave ppl time to react.

Since you "syphoned warped" everyone without giving them a chance to respond it must be that YOU are in a strange dimension. Maybe you were shot from behind and zapped there without you knowing and now everyone is just a ghost to you and unable to percieve your actions. Give it another try]

---

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature...&v=6rZ2OBoWANk

You skipped me! You took what I said as a facade and didn't believe. And then went on your marry ways.

I gave you all a chance to respond.. . I gave you all "time to react". But you skipped me god damnit! Now its not my fault you took my actions as being farce and decided to ignore them...no no no...that's not my problem. You didn't Act!..NOW YOU DEAL WITH THE CONSEQUENCES OF BEING WARPED!

Naaaaaaah! Nunn nun nun nun na nun naaaaaaaaa! <(warped sounds)

Sam sighed loudly and audibly at the antics of the look at me ark hunters. They were so loud, and so ignorant in the way of polite public etiquette. Why did that have to go away in this new world.

He saw the crater crashers doing their thing. Playing with bugs what are we twelve? These people are simply animals. No matter, soon the real people will be here. People worth talking about, and people worth talking to!

J bob finally revives from his defiance beer induced comma. Looking around he has no idea what's happening all around him, he walks out to the vendors stall and takes pause. The scene unfolding before him is one of the most strange and terrifying things he's ever seen.

There's three female Irathiants dancing while some heavily armored fellow drives donuts around them in a runner, there are no less than five men dressed in traditional survivalist attire- jumping irrationally and discharging their weapons directly at the dancing Irathiants. The most un- nerving was the black hooded man crouched and circling him, gazing through the scope of his high powered rifle directly at j bobs midsection.

As fast as he can, jbob flees this horrific spectacle, tossing a flashnova behind him just for good measure.

Reaching in to the stash pack attached to his armor, Keevan pulls out a tattered and worn journal. It's been though the fire, stained, creased, and slightly dog eared, but has been a faithfull record keeper of his journeys through the badlands. opening the flap on one of many small pouches and panels attached to his armor, he pulls out a short stubb of a pencil....one of the few remaining true earth pencils he was lucky enough to salvage from the destroyed ruins dotting the bay....

he feels a slight tickle, and bluish aura at his back, and looking over his right shoulder, sees the spectral form of nefarious mouthing something about warping realities, doom, and cackling glee...... choosing to use a spanner protector, thinking it would send us into another reality, really? Keevan appreciates the little pick me up by Nefarious's actions, but next time he's at top notch, he'll have to ask Aeryn about long term effects of EGO implants, and any correlation to mental instability or cellular brain tissue detoriation.

glancing past Nefarious, he watches for a moment at the impromptu roach races of the crater crashers, and smiles inwardly while thinking to himself "you can remove the human being out of civilization, but you can't remove all the civilization out of the human being. No matter where you are, people will find a way to make their own entertainment together....nice to see we havn't lost that as well yet."

Keevan looks past the intense round of roach racing going on in the corner, to the parking lot.....he'll never understand the need for humans to waste ammo in a celebratory manner....especially when there are females present...."kinda pointless", he thinks to himself, when a lot of the female volunteers who signed on with von bach industries are fully capable of kicking in an over amourous fellow's teeth in with a giggle and a well placed armored boot heel to the face. He grins while thinkin... "been there, done that...got the chin scar to prove it" "If a female wants a man, she'll jek well walk up to him and take what's hers....the badlands plays no favorites."

Looking back to the left near the door, Keevan notices the disdainfull scorn playing across sam skatch's face at the antics of the arkhunters assembling on the grounds of the crater bar.....

"Upity hume....he wouldn't last 5 minutes out in the bay without his e-rep babysitters....the first volge that stepped into his line of sight would have him schtako pantied in no time flat....he's weak.....a true born and bred city boy without a clue to surviving out here in the bay....I guess the e-rep tolerates him as long as he's pandering to their whims" Keevan thinks to himself.

Turning back to his journal, while taking a long swig on the remains in the bottle, keevan scribbles a few more notes on a page marked "hellbug deterent".

"day 200.....need to get in touch with Aeryn at top notch and Yewell over in Defiace....maybe had a breakthrough regarding the pheromone incident with Rinn......after cutting open a few skitterling and hellbug carcases, I've noticed a couple of glands that are present in the adults near the apex of the cranial terminus that are missing in the little ones....can this be the scent glands that identify each species from each other? Or are these the orienteering or seismic ganglions found in certain species of earth fauna?, and if that's the case, is there a way to disrupt these organs using pitched sound waves? The applications of developing such a technology would benefit all....the ability to deter hellbugs from homesteads and occupied places making them safer for living would allow for safe expansion into the dangerous territories.
If it turns out to be scent glands for identification.....can we sensethize a broad spectrum spray that would mimic the flight response pheremone trigger in hellbugs? Too may questions, not enough answers...will return tomorrow to happy pow farms and gather more samples for analysis....maybe von bach will pay a few script for some unspoiled samples....it's worth the risk.

Need to start that new chapter on volge analysis soon, hopefully, if we don't get killed in the process.....we can figure out what makes em' tick and design something that will take one out with the minimum of losses, right now...too many people are dying trying to save others, this is unacceptable...there has to be a way for a few to take out a lot of them, and quickly........

I miss my family.....the gang is great an all that, but still no word as to survivors from what used to be known as Arkansas and Louisiana.......I can't give up hope....it's all I have left in this world besides the skin I was born in, a beat up roller, this book, and my guns....gods....I miss my kids...."

Keevan closes the journal and puts it away.....it's been another long day.....now is the time to unwind, forget the troubles for tomorrow, kick back, and let the world happen around him.....at best....amusing, at worst....sad......

he reaches for the other bottle and says to the assembled masses that tried and true well wish for everyone out here in the bay area... "here's to another day, may your script be plentiful, and your ammo full.......

*opens the other bottle, and takes a swig while looking at the arkbelt*

Returning from a long day of ark hunting, having no memory of the events that drove him away so quickly, jbob grabs a beer and lights up his end of the day cigarette. He notices the stares of disapproval, just doesn't care. "whole worlds gone to shtako and I'm supposed to worry about cancer?" he thinks to himself.

"hey what's this volge shtako? Turn on the tunes"

The usual echelon Mercs are polluting the scene and to top it off theres E-rep here now. He notices another VBI agent across the way, tempted to jest about Von Bach being late on his payments, he decides against it. Back to watching the republic goons, he flashes through memories of what they had done to his home town, a veteran of the pale wars he knows full well the weight of orders on the military.
Suddenly a man he vaguely remembers comes hurdling around the corner. "nefarious?"
Amongst the absolute drunken dribble jbob can discern something about his plans to "vaporize us all into another dimension with his siphon SAW", he falls into the ditch just outside. Jbob contemplates helping him, but fearing any association with the mad man, decides to let him sleep under the bridge.
Pulling out his battle torn knife to sharpen, he reflects on how rugged and worn it's become. His new charged blade should be here by the end of the month, hopefully. Mail in the new world is anything but reliable, then again it never was to reliable.
Pouring some out for ol Von Bach, he takes another drag and gets to work.

Ex EMC Sergeant Piers Nivens walks to the craters front gate, and has a flash-back from the Pale-Wars, the fireworks that celebrate the armistice turn into artillery shells firing at his unit. He sees Nefarious and confuses him for a Votan soldier and tries to wrestle his gun from him, thinking its a life or death situation to save his squad...

Life is good at the crater bar most days. Well.....as good as it can get out here in the badlands at any rate.

After Keevan finishes his toast to the assorted motley crew occupying the crater grounds, he and a few onlookers notice the scuffle going on over by the bridge. "this can't be good" he thinks to himself, as he notices a couple of eschelon goons and e-rep monkeys preparing to "intervene" in the conflict near the bridge.

Keevan catches the eye of Albright and the crashers, and nods a knowing look in their general direction. without a word, they all get up and start sprinting towards the fight....if there's one thing to be known about arkhunters, no matter who or what they are, it's that we take care of our own....no eschelon, nor e-rep, nor VC interference needed nor wanted.....

Keevan and Wes both recognize the symptoms of PTSD. Keevan has had occasional episodes himself in the past, and knows that this can get real ugly...real fast, unless someone doesn't intervene stat.

A couple of the crater crashers head off the eschelon and e-rep jekkers before they reach the scene......never a good thing to have corporate involved in anything in the bay....they tend to shoot first and ask questions second without a thought to who is involved.....never a good thing.

Wes locks nefarious in an armbar and wrestles him to the ground , then sits on him while batting the weapon out of reach.

Keevan leg sweeps Nivens to the ground, and before he can recover, keevan gets in a head lock underneath his armpits preventing Nivens from reaching for the gun strapped to his side.

Yelling into Nivens ear in an attempt to reach this arkhunter, and bring him back from whatever hell his mind took him to, Keevan says...

"AT EASE SOLDIER!!! STAND DOWN! I said STAND DOWN!!! So help me god, if you don't stand down right now, I will personally rip out your eyeball and skull jek you to death in front of god, and all these people! AT EASE SOLDIER!!!"

After a few moments, Keevan feels the tension release from Nivens body, and his breathing slowing down to near normal...."that was a close one" thinks keevan, "if he had succeded, it would have been a slaughter at the crater bar, in more ways than one"

After a few more moments, Keevan releases Nivens, and helps him up from the ground. Dusting off a bit of debris off his pants, Keevan turns Nivens around to look into his eyes to see if he has come back from a war long since over.....but never forgotten.

"feelin' better sarge?" Keevan asks "come on, let me buy you a drink, and we can talk about 'riding the line' for a few"

Keevan snaps off a salute to Nivens that is only known by those who fought in the pale wars, a salute of solidarity, of brotherhood, of bloody conflicts that no normal being should have ever had witnessed in their lifetime.

Keevan heads back on up to the porch to grab some more brew from the cooler, on his way, he passes by the slack jawed stares of the e-rep and eschelon soldiers, and the frown of sam skatch, and looking them dead in the eye with a thousand yard stare, says....

"we take care of our own, and don't you ever forget it."

Mudturtle Jones, sitting at a table on The Crater's porch with his back to the wall as usual, watches the scuffle with a keen eye. Once the others get Nivens calmed down, he reholsters his blaster. He didn't want to have to shoot another ark hunter. Especially if he wasn't getting paid for it, but a rabid dog just needs to be put down.

SGT. Piers finally remembers where he is, and calms down. He walks with Keevan to grab a brew and sees the looks from echelon and e-rep. Piers listens closely when Keevan says: "we take care of our own, and don't you ever forget it."


After a few brews Piers looses his thoughts and tears off his EMC RAZOR WOLVERINES Infantry Legion patch, and throws it into the campfire, then yells "**** you senator Gray!, You sent us kids to fight a war that was never there! Piers then takes one of his EMC Sergeant patches and tapes it to a grenade he rigged to only explode when you shoot it, he walks to the yard, pulls out his EMC magnum and throws the grenade into the air, as high as he can get it. Then hopes that his months of marksman training kick in as he takes aim at his grenade and pulls the trigger as its still going up...

Keevan wanders back from the campfire towards the porch to gather more brews for the upcoming entertainment provided by the corporate tool Sam Skatch, He knows what's about to happen next with Piers, and wants to give him some space for a bit to "clear the air" so to speak.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Mudturtle Jones ease his sidearm back out of it's holster, and thumb back the hammer under the table. Easing his way over to the table where Mr. Jones is seated, Keevan removes his EMC magnum, and lays it on the table in front of him, barrel pointing away from Mudturtles general direction, but the threat is still implied...

"Let him be, Jones....that man has had this coming for a long time. You don't get like that unless you've seen a few things one wishes he hadn't in this life. Besides, it's not like that nade is gonna do any real damage to us at any rate. well....except maybe scare the schtako out of the DJ and the hired goons...that's always good for a laugh."

" we're all wearing shield tech, and our EGO will patch up anything else....at most, that man will have one scruggin hell of a headache when he comes to, and a couple of bruises in the morning....nothing that a good sleep won't cure."

"Just look around you, everyone here has some sort of story to tell, some of them not so nice....but they get the idea....Look there. They're stepping back to give the young man some room to do what he has to do out in the yard, and the civies in the area are smart enough to get behind the nearest arkhunter for cover, or get behind something harder than their own skin....."

"If we're really lucky, that young man may just find a new reason for going on living out here in the bay.....if not....well......he won't be the first hunter to loose his mind out here, and certainly not the last."

"Here....have a beer on me.....looks like the show is about to begin."

Keevan picks up his sidearm off the table, and snaps it back into it's holster....picking up the other two brews off the table, he makes his way back to the fire to witness Piers transformation from soldier to Arkhunter.....the past can never be forgotten, and the future is yet but a dream, all we have is today, tomorrow is not guaranteed......


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ok ppl, I can't always be the voice of reason out here in the bay......there has got to be someone else out here who can think beyond a one paragraph thought.....geesh, this is DEFIANCE! stretch those imaginations a bit there people....we've got a place, a setting, and an event going on at the Crater Bar...where do you see your character fitting (or not fitting) in for a semi-casual bar event being hosted by a e-rep lovin' smug bastich? and for those who don't know, the e-rep scruggin bastich is none other than Ktam radio's own Sam Skatch broadcasting live each and every Friday night at www.Ktamradio.com (shameless plug) but will give ya a better picture of this threads intent than I could ever describe. dare to live your character......at the Crater Bar....where the drinks are cheap....and the women......not so cheap.

As Piers finishes his stunt with his grenade, he goes to the campfire and tells everyone his story with the EMC, knowing that he can not truly forget or be forgiven by the Votans for what his unit did in 2022.

I was conscripted into the EMC in 2015, before that I was a UN. peacekeeper. When I was drafted in, they put me into the RAZOR WOLVERIENES, we were a high-risk platoon of 36. On the night of September 15 2022, we were tasked with locking down this VOT village 15clicks south of Baja, our leader told us to kill anyone who runs out the villages front gate. When the assault team fired shots Iraths ran out, but not soldiers like we thought. It was civies, we radioed command and they told us to shoot. We did and because of my unit over 200 Iraths who were innocent are dead, and its on my hands.

3months after that my unit was killed, one by one. Always a round to the spine. By the end of the year there were just 6 of us left.
And the Dark Matter changed that, they had one of those monolith mechs fire on my team, and they got blown to bits.
They captured me alive and tried to pry information outta me. (Piers scans the surrounding people and notices that Jones is giving him a cold stare) Well when Dark Matter tried I had to kill them so I used this experimental drug that you all call adreno. And what happened next, I don't remember, I just have these flashes though every now and then. When I was found, by the EMC, they said that I was wounded, and that I was carrying over 30+ VOTAN holo-tags in my fist, and they took a charge blade from my boot and sent me back home, or what was left of it.

I learned something from this place... Getting where you want to go, that's just the beginning, the end is... letting go.




As Piers leaves the Crater he hands Sam Skatch a folded picture of the RAZOR WOLVERIENS and all of their dog-tags.
The E-reps look at Piers with that: I'm going to kill you stare, and one walks to him and punches him in the nose...

Keevan moves towards the e-rep and Piers, trying to help him after witnessing the blow dealt by the thug, but only makes it a few steps before he feels the cold steel of a barrel pressed against the small of his back. Keevan looks over his shoulder at the surley eschelon merc holding the SAW....

"Damn, I really am getting slow in my old age." Keevan thinks to himself.

the merc chuckles and says, "easy there tiger, don't want anyone to get hurt now would we?"

Varus, the slimy ganchi, sits back cackling merrily and praising "his" troops. "Now now, we'll have none of that here!" "You arkhunters are responsible if something gets broken around here..."

"Jekkin Varus! that slimy bastich! one of thses days someone is gonna grab that pathetic waste of a being, and feed him to a Monarch. I'm just hoping when that day comes, I'll be there to see it happen..." Keevan thinks to himself.

Keevan returns to his seat thinking "this isn't over merc.....not by a long shot......one day, one day....."

sighing....keevan turns in his seat at the departing figure of Piers...gives him a salute, and wispers to the air "good journeys, good journeys....I hope you find some small measure of peace out there in the wastes...."

Climbing out of a small hatch in the roof Beck pauses half way down the inset ladder and watches all the previous actions silently. Remembering a time when he turned from Boy to Man and made the choice to survive no only for himself, but to do what little he could for others.

Up on the roof Beck had been installing an upgraded receiver. His Ego babbling in his head about the benefits of the new engineering concepts thanks to some of the Volge salvage from Scrappy. They were as basic as Pows genetically; but their tech was impressive. They had much smaller communication systems than the hailers and could transmit much faster and further. A little reprogramming and there was not a touch of Volge left. K-TAM would broadcast further with less, and could even do some video streaming from time to time.

Beck didn`t mind the EGO Babble. the female voice was so enthusiastic, even a bad situation seemed a lot better when she cracked a joke or said he had who ever on the run, despite being pinned down. With a mental nod of agreement Beck climbed down, gave a polite nod to Skatch and predicted when he would be drafted into correctly setting up Skatchs gear. Beck knows the story behind Skatch being in the bay area. He might be a schill, but he was just making the best of a worse situation. The New Freedom was more than just Von Bach`s project transport. There was another mission objective and the E-Rep wasn`t going to let a little crash dampen their efforts to take over the bay area with their influence and prepare for the Mag lev.

Pulling up beside Keevan Beck gives him a nod and buys him a shot of TnB. Sweet as honey with a bitter kick it pleasantly chased away the evening chills from the roof of the crater bar. Beck Calls out to Mel and places a 20 on his roach. Wasn`t his kind of game, but Beck knew his success was because of all these people. They support him, and he inturn supports them when he can.

Varus waddles up to Beck and asks for a private meeting to discuss some business and they slip off to a dimly lit corner, 2 Echelon Merc`s ensuring they are not disturbed. While a K-TAM offering begins Streaming on a monitor. A special about what it would have been like for the Votan, knowing their world was over from a Human perspective in 2013. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6NmP2...ture=endscreen

The Crater Bar, a hub of E-Rep, wealthy Bay Area citizens and a few lucky ark hunters. The place stunk of lavish foods and could easily boast the largest selection of booze and easy women if you had the money. Just the kind of place right for the picking, if that sort of thing appealed to you. With the right attack one could easily make some script, so much potential. The thoughts of the 'retired' raider wandered as he signed and looked away from the scene. The irathient man looked to his stolen GROWLER, then towards the road that lead down the hill and towards the bar.

He had earned the name Zer0 from his last 'job'. He had been an orphan from a young age, the raiders capturing him and training him in the arts of living off the land and the people. He was jeckn good at it too, but the life of pillaging took a sudden turn when he too started taking children from their homes and families. Zer0 shook the thoughts from his head securing the last of his belongings to the ATV and begun his decent towards his new life.

Pieces of the past were not hard to find in the Bay Area, it was half the reason he had chosen to come here. His hobby of collecting old earth memorabilia was looked down by both the Votan and Earth natives, some calling him a grave robber, others claiming he was simply trying to stir up old painful memories. He belonged to neither of those worlds so their words meant nothing to him. The memorabilia always brought a smile to someones face, a laugh or a happy thought so it was always worth it.

The GROWLER skirted along the bridge and skid to a stop directly in front of the Bar. Zer0 was determined to start a new life and it wasn't until recently he found his calling. Old earth had once an entire sect dedicated to making people smile and laugh. This sect known as 'comedians' used any means to make the people forget their troubles even if it was only for minutes. Zer0's calling came to him in the form of a radio transmission, somehow someone had rebooted the old KTAM radio station and had resumed broadcasting music, news and commercials for the San Francisco area. This wasn't unheard of, but the opportunity of new station meant a chance for the former raider to do some good. ON AIR.

He took a deep breath thinking how dumb it was for him to be nervous, he shot people in the face without hesitation for years, now to simply have to look at one was harder than he would admit. Passing through the front door, he flashed a stack of script as if he was just another wealthy patron to the bouncers. Truth is he was lucky that the stolen ATV also had a bit of jaja stashed away. He had to find a way onto that radio station, but first he needed information.

After much shouting, screaming, and shoving Sam Skatch was finally happy with the equipment placement. He checked and double checked the position of the mic, and the stage set up, and everything was in its proper place. He was appeased for the moment.

He flipped on the power to the system, and nothing. He held his boiling rage because he knew that berating the E-Rep technician would not do any good. The man simply was not trained to handle the archaic scrap that Beck called radio equipment.

Looking around Skatch saw Beck walking over to a meeting with Mr Soleptor, and knew he would be no help at the moment. So back to screaming at the tech it would be. Sam kicked the power box as he walked away, and the generator fuel switch flipped from off to on. The lights, mic, and transmitter all sprang to life in a technicolor shout of sound and light. The needles of the gauges jumped across the display, pegging hard to ten, like an ark fall across the sky.

Skatch smiled wide, and congratulated himself silently on fixing this little technical hiccup. He brushed his hands together proud of his mighty achievement, and turned to go to the stage, as he was confronted by the ex EMC member. The man shoved some dog tags, and a photo into Sam's hand. Sammy dropped most of the dog tags, and puzzled at the picture. He wasn't sure what it meant, but the E-Rep MP's sure did. One of them punched this fella right in the face.

Ex EMC, Sam knew the type. Seen em before a hundred times on his journey across the continent. Disillusioned former soldiers that lost the will to fight the good fight. Ready to give up, and lay down arms instead of fighting for their planet. Samuel Skatchinsky could sympathize, but he knew Screamin Sammy Skatch would show no mercy.

"You weak minded peace of trash what is this? Some sort of sob story? Lost your friends in the war? Little sister to the Arkfall maybe? I dont really care. We all had some stuff go down since twenty thirteen. You actually feel the need to drop your little problems at my feet?"

Skatch leaned in closer to the man, and spoke in a softer voice.

"Your lucky all of these nice people are here or you would have received much worse then a bloody nose. Now i suggest, strongly, that you get out of here. Leave, before these apes lose their control, and take you in as it were."

Skatch stood back again, and stared hard at the man trying to look as serious as possible. He wished so terribly at that moment he was back in Columbia, and home in New York. He hated it here.

Varus was going on about how he has people helping him and some were more useful than others as he lead Beck to the small table. Glancing over Beck watched Sam Kick the amp. For a brief second the lights flickered, the system Skatch had set up lit up and a overly loud squelch could be heard over the speakers. The E-Rep tech lunged for the audio controls to mute the mic.

Skatch had a big smile on his face..."Tool, that's all his is, just a tool." Varus was still talking, not even paying attention to what was happening around him. "But I'll get Nolan, I will have other tools to use..."

Bringing his attention back to Varus, Beck thought to himself what it was that brought him to the Crater anyway, yammering on about the Most Wanted and how stupid it was and only those who were truly desperate would actually bother and likely jek it up anyway. Varus wanted more than just a bounty hunter, he wanted K-TAM to assist in tracking down Nolan and other Ark Hunters that owed Varus "Favors".

"Not for sale" Beck said, standing and moving towards the door in disgust, "You can advertise your wares, but K-TAM is not some NSA deal that is going to spy on people for you. If they are guilty of anything, catch them in the act and leave us out of this."

Mudturtle Jones watches Piers play his game with the grenade. Hears the boom and sees everyone at the Crater that wasn’t paying attention jump. Most jerk around with their weapons drawn and pointed at Piers.
Piers tells a story 23 years old about how he’s the only survivor of a 36 man EMC unit that slaughtered 200 unarmed civilian Irathients. His squad was killed one by one until there were only six left. Then they were attacked by Dark Matter. He was captured as the only survivor.
He then implies that with the help of some Adreno, he manages to single handedly kill 30 Dark Matter troops and make his escape. He is found by an EMC patrol, patched up and sent home. (During a war?)
Jones figures there is some truth to the story but figures nearly two and a half decades and many alcohol laced retellings of the story have pumped it up quite a bit. He wonders why Von Bach chose this guy for an EGO implant. Piers is clearly unstable and Jones knows from his experience as one of the original test subjects what can happen when an EGO is paired with a weak mind.
After Piers finishes his story, he walks over to where the DJ has set up, followed by a group of EMC troopers. He gets about half way there when the DJ seems to trip over something and all the lights flash on with a burst of static and some God-awful old music starts blaring. Guns come out again. Many pointed at the DJ.
Jones is not sure of the point of Piers’ story. He basically implied that the Iraths were taking revenge on his unit and somehow they missed him. Since at least a third of his audience is Irathient, maybe he wants to give them another chance. Its one of the EMC that knocks him to the ground, though. Jones thinks Piers has just made new enemies.
After the trooper punches Piers, Keevan tries to go running to his aid only to be stopped by one of Varus’ mercs. Varus seems to be enjoying the ‘show’. He makes it clear though that the arkhunters will be paying for any damage should anything get out of hand. Keevan gives Varus and the mercs a look that would stop a hulker in his tracks.
Jones considers the one sided conversation with Keevan. He is not quite sure of that man’s sanity either. Keevan came walking up to Jones, who he knew had a weapon drawn and cocked, and drew his gun. If he noticed how the people behind him scurried to get out of the line of fire he gave no indication.
Jones watched him carefully, not expecting to have to fire but if the barrel of that gun had come over just a little bit more, his blaster would have cut Keevan and the table in half. Keevan placed the Magnum on the table in a manner that he seemed to think was menacing but Jones saw as an act of submission. (See I’m no threat, I’m unarmed.)
Keevan gave Jones a spiel about how Piers had had it rough and seen and done things that no man should have to endure. (What arkhunter hasn’t? Almost all of us are ex-military, from one side or the other.)
He said to give the ‘young man’, (Piers is at least a couple of years older than Jones, who’s 43), some room. He has things to work out, (after 23 years). Our EGOs will protect us from any damage if we get hurt, (Obviously he hasn’t seen what happens when an EGO fails. Maybe he hasn’t heard about Nim.) Claimed it will only scare the civvies and the ‘hired goons’. (The civvies as in Varus and Cass. The ‘goons’ the EMC. The people that pay us). He called Piers stunt with a live grenade in a crowded courtyard a ‘show’. Nonchalantly picked up his pistol and beers and strolled away, not noticing the looks of relief on the faces of the people he passes. He left a beer on the table for Jones, apparently oblivious of the pot of coffee already there.
Jones looks at his watch. It was about time to meet Cass at her trailer to discuss another job. Piers was walking off across the bridge into the night, Kevaan had returned to his spot by the fire and Varus had waddled back into the gloom. It looked like the ‘show’ was over so Jones decided to head down the hill to see Cass. He picked up the bottle of beer, caught Keevan’s eye and raised the bottle. Keevan nodded and raised his own. Jones didn’t drink from the bottle though. He never had liked beer. He guessed Cass would appreciate it.
He meetsCass running up the hill, pistol in hand and only barely dressed. Jones guesses she was in the middle of one of her ‘exercise’ sessions. He must have been a little early.
“ What the jek is going on?” she screams. “I heard an explosion, saw a flash and heard something like hellbugs skrugging pows.
Jones thinks to himself, “For a guy that pretty much wants to kill all Voltans, I sure get a kick out of this Irat.” He hands her the beer and says, “A show”.

There were moans of despair, shouts of elation, and much hair pulling in frustration as Spitfire creeped across the finish line, two out of the three runs declaring him the Winner!

This was quickly followed by eager, out-streatched hands motioning: "Pay up, Suckers!" and mumbled groans of hard earned scrip being dolled over.

After the ecxitement of the race was winding down, things began to settle a bit and everyone was starting to relax.

Wes began to contemplate the dangerous, tence, and crazy events that took place during the race and shrugged.

He then thought, "How's that different than any other day at the Crater Bar?"

At that moment a high pitched sqeal skreeched through the Craters Bar's court yard bringing hands up to protect ears an more than a few Hunters grabbing thier guns in anticipation of the fresh new Hell that was obviously starting to go down.

Almost as quickly as it started, the ear renching assault subsided.

Wes glanced around not even noticing his pistol was drawn and he saw Sam Skatch beaming proudly at the colorfully flashing lights on his equipment as if this was what he'd been working toward all day.

"Oh", Wes smirked, holstering his gun.

"Thats how its different than any other day. Skatch is here."

Wes said aloud, "I guess that's why they call you "Screaming" Sammy Skatch, huh?"

During the few chuckles this remark sparked, Wes shook his head and pondered, "What are we? Ten-year olds?"

Pulling up an empty chair Wes sat down and took a long pull from his half empty beer. A week feeling began to grow in his knees as he mumbled to himself, "God. I really hope he don't start singing."

At that second his hailer squelched and he noticed little Jimmy Jay standing in front of him beaming with pride. "I told ya he could do it!" the message read on Wes's hailer.

"Damn straight you did boy! Damn straight." Wes handed over 10 scrip to Jimmy and said, "Now you take this as part of your cut and take good care of our 'ol Spitfire now, ok?"

As Jimmy was giving a "thumbs up!" to Wes he noticed Judy helping her Dad down the steps of the bar and said to Jimmy, "Now run along and help your sister with your Dad. Looks like he's reached his limit for the night"

A quick handshake and fist bump then off ran little Jimmy to help Judy put thier Dad into the back of thier roller.

A fellow Crater Crasher, Jeddadiah Sawyer, walked up to Wes and flopped down a stack of scrip on the table. "That's our take on the race.", he said then slapped Wes on the shoulder then shouted out loud so everyone at the bar could hear.

"Next rounds on Wes Allbright boys! Drink up!"

Wes just shook his head and smiled. "Well. Easy come. Easy go." he acknowledged tossing back the last swig of his beer with a smile.

Standing up Wes shook his empty bottle with a smirk of regret. A fellow Crasher then shouted, "Heads up, Wes!" and tossed him a beer. Snatching the drink, twisting the top, and hearing that satisfying, "Pfffft!" sound, Wes began to walk over to the Soleptor vender to see what new items might be up for a bargin.

Starring at the warm glow of the vendor screen Wes's attention was pulled away as a fellow Hunter drove up in his roller. Jumped out. Ran over to the vendor. Dumped a bunch of crappy mods in the slot. Punched a button to trade them for scrip. Then flipped throught the list of weapons. Purchaced an assault riffle. Grabbed the remainig scrip then began to empty his new weapons ammo into the sky. Then into the ground before him.

After a quick reload he climbed into his roller and sped off.

Wes shook his head in disbelief. "The wild n crazy antics of Ark Hunters", he mused.

Turning to face the Crater Bar he took in the sight before him.

He gazed upon seasoned war veterains now turned Ark Hunters. Each dealing with thier own private Demons haunting their every waking moment.

Strong drink at the Crater may be thier only means of escape.

He chuckled a bit as he watched Jed paying the proprietor for the free round of beers.

He felt a simpathetic connection as he noticed some of the Hunters hanging out at the Bar tonight.

As they nursed thier beers, Wes wondered what dark secrets, regretfull moments, sad memories, or past event they were mulling over.

*shudder*

Shaking his head and taking another long pull from his beer, Wes was not going to be pulled into the sullen aura that was pervading his senses.

Looking past the Bar, Wes noticed the setting sun, casting a surrealistic glow over the Crater Bar.

People often wondered why he loved to hang out at this crapy dive, but standing there basking in the sunsets warm glow as the strong beer numbed his sences, and glancing over the rich, interesting characters that have shown up at the bar today.

Wes thought to himself, "How can you NOT love the Crater Bar?"

After pondering this question he noticed the seedy looking Beck character conversing in secret with Varus Soleptor and the ever unpredictible Sam Skatch with his ever present E-Rep guards.

Wes wondered in amusement, and chuckled.

"Wonder what will happen next?"

[yea. I'm like Wes. what's gonna happen next??? Guess we'll have to keep checking in to see huh? Enjoy]

Weary from a day of raiding with the Reavers, Leigh Kornvu pulled up to The Crater in her purple challenger. Stepping out of the vehicle the young Irathient woman tightened her jacket, mainly to hide the assortment of weapons on her person. She was here to drink after all, not here to show up some hotshot E-Rep who thought he was tough shtako.

Pulling up a stool at the bar she tapped the counter to get the attention of the person behind it.

"So, what'll it be this time Leigh?"

"Same as usual. I've got the scrip to pay my previous tab tonight as well. Good pickings today."

The last sentence she spoke in a quieter voice, not wanting to have to deal with someone trying to ambush her for the scrip she had on her after she left the bar.

Looking over toward where the equipment was being set up, the woman smirked as she took a deep swig of the drink that was handed to her.

"So... KTAM is here then too? Great, I could use some old world tunes. Just hope that Varus doesn't try to boot them out too early, it'll bring that little man some good money into the bar."

Picking up her drink she swiveled around in her seat and leaned back to watch the events play out around her with a slight smirk on her face.

Well as Jed finally finishes payin for the round of beer he grabs a seat and wraps his hands around his newly opened beer. He sits and takes in all the action thats happening at the Crater thinking to himself how could this possibly get any better. Oh yeah, maybe if one of those sexy wild irathian chicks was cuddled up beside him in a cozy bed. But ain't no time for that. Jed got mutants and hellbugs to blow up and scrip to make.jed looks at his fellow crashers and smiles. This is an awesome family and couldn't ask for better friends as he realizes he is at the bottom of his free beer and has to pay for his next round

The big cats make their appearance Zer0 thought walking slowly towards the bar. His eyes scanned the room as he simply tried to think of what to do next. Seeing Beck talking to Varus and Skatch handling some business, it was easy to notice these were guys in charge. Both seem to flaunt the fact they were radio workers, perhaps this would be easier than he thought. He gathered himself in a quick breath and turned towards Skatch first, hopefully he would make it further in his talk than the other guy seemed to.

His step interrupted by a small laugh barley audible, but Zer0 picked up quickly, it was directed at him. He turned to look in the dimly lit area from wince the laugh came and eyed the Indogen female sitting with her legs crossed still smiling. The mere fact an Indogen was smiling made Zer0 quirk his head to the side in question.
“Oh don't look at me like that, I probably just saved your life.” She said bluntly. Zer0 approached her slowly, the Indogen a very cautious race to begin with, he didnt want to scare her before he could wrap his hands around her neck.
“Thats it big boy, come take a seat, we have a lot to discuss. My associates and I have been watching since you since you entered this part of... town. Needless to say a raider is not hard to...”
“FORMER....” He finally blurted out.
“Excuse me... former raider is not hard to follow. Especially one with you past; Zer0”
“I like to keep my past where is belongs, behind me. An Indogen who speaks so openly and like the humans must also have a past, and can understand the need for secrecy.” The Irathien man took a seat across from the woman and proceeded to helping himself to a drink of her expensive bottle, tipping it back for a few seconds.
“Indeed, and its not your past we want to discuss. While its uniqueness makes you a great candidate, perfect in fact for what we have in store. You'll find the people of this area all seem to have a story, some will tell you, but for others memories are too bittersweet.”
“Cut to the chase, I have better things to do.”
“Zer0, how would you like to work for us and be on the radio constantly.” She leaned forward, not letting the moment, the gleam in his eyes fade. “We are creating an advertising firm that will hopefully be aired on the newly rebooted station here. We have interests in helping some of the less fortunate or otherwise unheard of companies expand their influence around these areas. We would like you to be our spokesperson, or liaison if you will to KTAM and this Mr. Beck Altarr.”
“Didn't you just say you saved my life? Now you want me to go over there?”
The woman slid a small tablet along the table towards Zer0. “An account in your name, with it comes scrip, a home near the station and power. The backing of several influential business owners with the money to help keep that station on the air and further its broadcast range. The current owner doesnt choose sides in the VC or E-Rep power struggle,.With good reason, scrip to be made from both ends. This we can agree on as can my associates and they wish to further the broadcast range all the way to the edge of the badlands.”
“Why me?” Zer0 said bluntly already taking the tablet from the table.
“You can handle yourself in a bad situation? I dont know the exact details myself dear but why ask questions that could possibly be the undoing of something so beautiful as our would be relationship?”
“I'll do it.” He locked eyes with her.
“I know you will, that's why we are talking. Furthermore that is why I am leaving you to handle the details with Beck while I secure our first few advertisements. Remember you work for COMPLY Media now, so be sure to get some new attire befitting one of you newly elevated status. We also have an EGO implant we will be installing sometime this week so dont rum off now. That should keep you hopefully on the same level with these guys but it will take some catching up.”
Zer0 was already walking away as she finished up her sentence, it was time to hopefully approach Beck with a great opportunity for his station.

After he explains the 'show', Jones asks Cass about the job she has for him. She tells him that she overheard Cooper telling Grant that the Iron Demons had used the baseball stadium in Frisco as an artillery base. She wants her to bring her back a relic as a souvenir of the battle of Defiance.

Knowing Cass is not what you'd call a sentimental person, he figures there's an angle to this. He says, "You want me to go all the way to old AT&T Park, that's sure to be crawling with Dark Matter, mutants or those damn scrappers, for a trinket? How many other arkhunters have you sent down there and what's your market?"

Cass replies, "Okay, okay, the story was all schtako. I got a guy who says that **** will bring big money back east. I'd go myself but its a long drive and like you said, dangerous. You arkhunters with your EGOs can use the teleporters to get down there and back fast. I can't."

Jones asks, "All right, what's it pay?"

Cass replies, "A hundred scrip up front."

Jones says, "You must be joking. If I get knocked down once, it'll cost me more that that to get revived."

Cass says, "Don't get knocked down. Look, this is a risk for me too. I don't know how much I'm going to make on this. if any. I've already sent out about a dozen guys."

Jones asks, " How many have come back?"

Cass answers, "None yet, but no one's been gone more than a few hours. I don't think any have actually left yet. They're probably all up at the Crater drinking my money away. How about if I throw in that power muzzle for my blaster when you get back? You've had your eye on it."

Jones replies, "It would be of more use if I took it with me."

Cass counters, "But then I could lose both it and the hundred scrip".

Jones asks, "You don't trust me?"

Cass replies, "Its not that. Its just that a girl has to protect her assets".

Jones gives her barely covered form a once over and says, "I can see where they could be exposed".

Unbelievably, Cass blushes and says, *Uh, yeah, I have to get my assets back to something. Do we have a deal?

"Deal". Jones says, "I pick up the scrip tomorrow".

Sam Skatch backed away from the obviously slightly out of it ex EMC member. Perhaps his words had stunned the poor man. These people in the Bay are damaged goods. That much was certain.

It would not take much to whip them into a frenzy of violence, and rage. That would be just what the Earth Republic would want. A bunch of rampaging Ark Hunters! Plenty of reason to just lock them up in Vegas, and make them disappear. It sure would make rebuilding easier without these mongrels.

It was time for Screamin Sammy Skatch to do his part.

Sam walked up the the stage, and tapped the Microphone loudly two times with a thwump thwump.

"So how are all of you fine upstanding folks doing? This looks like a fantastic crowd. Was down at the Bug, and Chug a few days ago. Did not want to be there. That place is a hole. Full of no good, rotten, foul mouthed, unclean, inbred, simple, smelly, selfish ark hunters. Not like this bunch. You look like a fine upstanding group of Bay citizens, and if there are any Ark hunters out there, keep your simple animalistic grunts of what you call language to yourselves so me and the nice people can talk."

Sam paused for a moment to see how the crowd would react.

Jack looked up from the bar upon hearing Sam's words. "Excuse me sir" he said, raising his voice to be heard over the others. "I don't believe that your choice of words was correct, not every Arkhunter is so 'inept at linguistic skills' as you essentially inferred with your comment. Now, I know I would like an apology, and I think everyone else would like one as well." He said to Skatch, a slight smile on his face as he waited to hear what Sam would say.

CoolStoryBro stepped off of his runner and entered the Crater to hear what appeared to be the beginnings of an argument between Sam and others. Knowing that he only possesses two talents, one of which would likely cause a lot of bloodshed and bellyaches, CoolStoryBro decided to go with his much better developed talent...dance!

CoolStoryBro walked past the bar and climbed up on an empty table and just danced. He was hoping things would be different this time, that maybe others would dance with him. But this time is just like every other time, he dances while everyone else just moves on ****ing, fighting, drinking, looting, or whatever. He doesn't let this deter him. Although he only knows one type of dance, he does that dance damn good.

He dreams that one day the mighty Devs in the sky will grant him the ability to learn another dance. But until then, he'll keep dancing, at the bar, at Arkfalls, anywhere. Even surprising the Volge by popping out of cloak while busting a move. Those Volge really don't like dancing humans, and that's too bad, he thinks to himself.

Passing by Skatch as he made his opening remarks Beck Glances his way "Way to go champ, make sure your show is ready on Friday, getting the shtako kicked out of you is no excuse to be late." and continued to the bar for his free drink. Absorbed in his frustration at Varus for his attempts to use K-TAM as his own information network Beck twisted off the top of his T'n'B and pounded back a gulp.

What the big deal was about this swill Beck could not understand, looking around he spotted Jimm Bob over in a corner looking like his dog had just died. "Just buy her another bottle. It couldn't have had much in it and this last batch is not as bad as that last one. Little less Twig flavor."

Jimm Bob looks up slowly, his big eyes heavy with worry. "Ya don't understand Mr. Beck sir. Jus don't understand. It ain't about losin' mah Twig 'n' Berries, it's about what I was doin in the out house with it in the first place. Not wantin her to know I was sneakin' tugs on it with out her."

Beck shook his head, it was a nearly pointless conversation. It's been a year and already many local Ark Hunters had offered to give Jimm Bob's wife a taste of their Twig'n'Berries. Some were better than others depending on the season. No two batches were alike. Jimm Bob's wife took a tug on all the offered T'n'B's and just wasn't satisfied. It was becoming a local story that no man who's Twig 'n' Berries got a pull by Jimm Bob's wife ever had a happy ending.

Turning on his bar stool Beck's gaze scanned the room and listened to Skatchs delivery. Good thing it was armature comedy night or there would be a Riot and Beck needed his Friday show manned.

Jones walking back from Cass's heard the DJ make some offensive comments about arkhunters and saw about half the crowd reach for their weapons again. That guy was realy in the zone. Making friends and influencing people. he'd be lucky to make it through the night without being hung by his tansmission cable.

Then some arkhunter jumped on the table and started dancing. A few people near him lookedon but most didn't notice. Some of the women started taunting him, holding out pieces of script. Jones thought the dance looked familiar but he couldn't recall why.

Jones walked over to the teleporter, told his EGO, "Sleep mode, eight hours", and stepped in.