From: Jeff Huo Subject: IC: Wolves Glen Pub Date: 26 Nov 2000 00:00:00 GMT Message-ID: X-Trace: news.itd.umich.edu 975283634 207.75.181.102 (Sun, 26 Nov 2000 19:07:14 EST) Organization: Denizens of the Wolverine White Coat Ghetto NNTP-Posting-Date: Sun, 26 Nov 2000 19:07:14 EST Newsgroups: rec.games.frp.storyteller The Pub door whooshes open again, as it did earlier for Cassie...same street scene, from same place. In strolls a tallish canine Pooka, a black and brown mongrel, by the looks of it. He's wearing a weathered brown jumpsuit with a ton of pockets on it. The jumpsuit looks partially armored, much like partial plate. The jumpsuit has a hood which would normally enclose his head, but it is unzipped (if that is the right word) and tucked back; a black, Crocodile-Dundee style hat instead on his head. A hard-case shoulder-bag is slung across one shoulder; one obvious weapon (a largish blaster of some kind) on his right hip, along with other tools. Over the jumpsuit he wears a leather flight jacket. The jacket has a patch on the right breast --a white lion rampant on a Red background http://www.owbn.com/images/whitewolf/HouseFiona.gif and under it in embroidered letters is the name "McFlop, Dustin." In the back, a lump under the leather jacket looks like a smallish backpack --perhaps a life-support unit for the jumpsuit. His tail is visible, tho, and wags in a carefree way. (It would appear he just tucks it in when the need for atmospheric containment comes by.) On the back of the jacket is drawn, in 40's style airplane-nose-art pin-up girl style by someone obviously with a great deal of talent, a beautiful lady, leaning back seductively, under the caption "Fortune's Lady"...and you realize suddenly that you might have seen that particular Lady drawn there before...unless you happen to know more than one raven-haired Tigress Pooka who autographs jackets with "Hugs and kisses, Christina"..... He's got that easy-looking attitude about him, a "no worries, mate!" sort of air...he strolls into the Pub, looks around; seemingly satisfied by whatever it is that he sees (or doesn't see), and somehow unbothered by the shattered glass, broken furniture, holes in the floor, scorch marks, residual water flooding damage, laser-blast scorch-marks, residual smoke, knocked over jukebox, naked guy in a wheelchair (Alan, you still haven't put clothes on, right?), [OOC: Maybe Mahri isn't sleeping --maybe she's just weeping in defeat... ;-) ] ...anyway, all the general signs that should tell a rational human being to turn the hell around and find somewhere else saner to drink don't seem to bother him. He walks over to an empty booth near the door, leans back in it, and punches a stud on his belt. Instantly, a field of energy appears around him, about five feet away from his body and enclosing the booth. Satisfied, he moves his hat over his face and within moments is soundly asleep. [OOC: He's here for a specific reason, relating to something in the background --if anyone, like with Cassie, is going to actually do anything with him, e-mail me the post as well. Thanks!] -Dustin McFlop Y'all don't mind if I just sleep here, no? -- Jeff Huo | jeff@spundreams.net.nospam (remove nospam) U. Michigan Med | http://www.spundreams.net/~jeff New to the group? Welcome! Please visit http://www.pepin.demon.co.uk/wolves/ IC Character sheets at http://www.spundreams.net/~jeff/wgpatum.html