GARTF IC

Nameless Hokkaido Base

Base Funding: 1000

Base Stores: So empty you don't even have rats.

Base Coordinator: 'Boss'.


Base Personell:

MrGazzer as "Ed R. Shirtz"
HP: 12(14), Accuracy 1(0), Move 10, vision 20 [Meat Wall(+2hp, -1acc)]
Equipment: [Loaded Handgun 12/12], --, --

Megaolix as "Bill Darwin"
HP: 9, Accuracy 2, Move 10, vision 20 [Nimble (+1 dodge bonus)]
Equipment: [Loaded Handgun 12/12], --, --

Happery as "John Smith"
HP: 10, Accuracy 1, Move 10, vision 20 [Pitcher (+2 throw acc.)]
Equipment: [Loaded Handgun 12/12], --, --

Latewave as "Jonah Dead"
HP: 12, Accuracy 3, Move 10 vision 20 [Wrench Monkey]
Equipment: [Loaded Handgun 12/12], --, --

Enthalpy as "Wang Badan"
HP: 8, Accuracy 2, Move 10, vision 20 [Smooth Talker]
Equipment: [Loaded Handgun 12/12], --, --

Marked_One as "Wil E. Coyote"
HP: 8, accuracy 4, Move 10, vision 24 [Eagle-Eye]
Equipment: [Loaded Handgun 10/12], [Loaded handgun 9/12], --

Vindictus as "CAPTAIN WEEABOO, DEFENDER OF EARTH, alias Akashatsu Shinu"
HP: 9, accuracy 0, Move 10, vision 20 [Proficiency lolkatana]
Equipment: [Loaded Handgun 12/12], --, --

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Rolls of the Deceased:

Useless101 as "Keith 'Invincible Titanic' Red"
HP: 9, Accuracy 4, Move 10, vision 24 [Eagle-Eye talent]
Took critically heavy fire in a gang shoot-out gone wrong.

 

[img width=428 height=600]http://img543.imageshack.us/img543/387/1oqt.jpg[/img]

"Welcome to Japan, boys. And girls, if there are any in this sorry lot. I'm your duly-appointed GARTF coordinator. What this means is that I was competent enough, for long enough, that command at HQ decided I was too valuable to risk losing out on proper assignments, but wasn't so fantastic that they'd take the risk anyway, just because of my results. You can just think of me as 'the boss'. Any actual mission orders from HQ come through me, though I coordinate with the local government in a minor sense as well. In any case, HQ missions dubbed as a 'serious and immediate threat' should take precedence over anything else.

There shouldn't be a lot of those, and even if there are, schlubs like you shouldn't be called in for that unless something has really gone wrong with the first team on-site, or if it's too close to us to get anyone else there in a timely fashion.

I won't be joining you on missions. Technically, I'm not allowed to engage in combat except in clear self defense, or in defense of the base. My hands are tied to just a god damn go-between these days.

In any case, you all have your regulation side-arm and ammunition, regulation cheap and itchy black suits, regulation non-prescription color-concealing sunglasses, and regulation ID and badges. You'll also find in your right pants pocket, if you haven't already, a non-regulation cheap pre-paid cellular phone. Business use only, scrubs, and don't say I never gave you anything. It'll help you keep in touch in case you're off at the strip club when something important happens.

Your bios say that one of you has a little experience in the shop? Good, here's hoping you don't die. It's not like we rate any dedicated service mechanics up in Hokkaido. Of course, it's not like we've got any mechanical equipment to really service, either, so there you go.

Any questions?"

 

"What are your orders, Taichou?"

 

"HQ has weapon stockpiles that they say they can ship out to bases in a week, but in my experience, kid, better to plan on it not getting here for at least two after getting the request put in.

Now, you didn't hear this from me, but if you're a smart kid I'm sure you can find some sort of local dealer to pick up something serviceable in less time. Maybe for cheaper than standard rates, too. Or maybe for more, if you fuck it up. Go figure. Of course, they almost definitely can't get you the nice toys that HQ can, but who the fuck has the kind of money for that sort of hardware, huh?

As for money, well. HQ isn't going to pay you for critical missions. It's an honor to serve for the fate of the world and all of that horseshit their PR men keep shoveling. If some of the politicians have something to do, though, they're usually willing to pay at least a little, depending on how important it is to them and how discreet it needs to be. And hell, it's not like I'm the only person that might have things you could do for money. Sniff around. There's usually someone that has some sort of little errand that could use a big guy with a gun.

I'm pretty sure that there's gun prohibition in Japan, though, so don't go flashing your hardware around like an idiot. Don't go flashing it at all, if you ever pick up something particularly neat. Just friendly advice."

"Well, to start with, it's not an order but more of a friendly bit of advice, pal.

Call me that again and I'll shoot you in the face. Fair warning. It's 'Boss'.

That aside, I've got nothing right now. So consider today your introductory employee orientation where you don't actually have to do anything."

 

If you don't need us right now, I'm going to go rob student that are skipping school and pawn their stuff to get more money. Who want to come with me?

 

"No Baws, I ain't got no questions. Dis suit is a little tight doe."
The six foot three wall of muscle before you rolls his shoulders uncomfortably, huge hand going though his close chopped as he thinks.
"Actually, I do gots a question. Why am I in Japan? I mean, I speak it somewhat well, from my Ma. But I know German far more fluently den Japanese. It just don't seem like an optimal placement, is all."

 

Boss stares at you, slowly finishing off their cigarette. After a long moment at the end, they grind the last ember out against the wall, draw another crumpled cancer-stick from a pocket, and light back up. You can clearly see as they add you to some sort of mental list, though you can't say for what.

".... I'm going to have to request that you leave your badge and ID on the table over there if you're going to go ahead and do stuff like that. Also, I never saw you and I don't know who the fuck you are. If arrested or you somehow die, all knowledge of your existence will be disavowed.

Probably not a problem, since your name is clearly fake. God damn. I swear, nobody fucking reads the forms these days."

"I'm pretty sure command just throws darts at a spinning globe to figure out who gets sent where these days."

 

"If I'm not needed I'll go look for parts to cobble together into something useful. I know there is little chance of finding anything. But hey. Got to look. Right Boss?"

 

Very well then, I'm going to check around for weapon dealer or maybe check around if some people need guy with gun to do stuff.

 

Ed sighs, muttering to himself "No Ed, dey said, dis is a promotion, dey said, we forgive you for the indecent,, Agent Dunham only lost a pinkie, its no big deal, dey said, happens all da time in Interpol, dey said." his hand slides over his face. "Is dare a baw near by, baws? I need a drink somethin' bad."

 

"So. Nice to meet you all. How 'bout some introductions?"

 

"Sure, whatever. There's a junk-yard and city dump a mile that way. If the wind blows right, you can smell it from here. Maybe one of the hobos can point you to something. Or there's a couple car shops down in town. One or two of them might have work for you, or spare crap that they're going to throw away anyway to make way for new commercial model parts."

".... You go ahead and do that, kid. You have fun with that."

Please specify exactly where you plan on looking for these things, or just search randomly and haphazardly. Either way, roll a d20 in your post.

If anyone is going with Marked_One, now is the time to say, before he leaves the base.

"You'll want the Dog's Scrotum, three blocks west. When the wind is right, you can smell the beer fumes from here. Run by a funny little guy, spent a couple weeks in Britain, picked up a little of the local vernacular but doesn't quite always get it.

Well, or there's the Kappa's Well across town. That's higher class, more expensive, though. Also it has a bouncer, and they don't extend lines of credit."

 

Name Wile. I was arrested and given an option. Join the program or rot in prison for the rest of my life. They said I could be usefull for killing stuff. What about you?

 

I head off towards the Junkyard. Let's see what I can find.

 

I'm going to look around gang turf and try to make contact with some member to see request a meeting to discuss the purchase of weapon or if they have some job that need to be done with people that can't be traced back to them.

I'll leave after the introduction are over.

[blockquote]Rolled 1d20 : 15, total 15[/blockquote]

 

[blockquote]Rolled 1d20 : 10, total 10[/blockquote]

Junkyard let's hope for no fail

 

"Hello, I'm Ed, former agent of Interpol, I uh worked as translator and as a dat one guy who stands around looking scary. Before dat, I was a marine, proficient in most fire arms, aim kinda sucks though."

 

I'll head out with Marked.

Not planning on committing crimes near the base, but if we get a decent distance away and happen to pass a bank I'll want to note it's location and how protected it is. Just for reference.

Not sure if a die roll is needed as I'm tagging along with someone else.

[blockquote]Rolled 1d20 : 5, total 5[/blockquote]

 

After chatting a bit, Ed heads to the bar Boss talked about.
[blockquote]Rolled 1d20 : 3, total 3[/blockquote]

 

Noting actions and rolls, but not acting on them just yet. Being patient and waiting for decisions to be made.

 

John Smith nods. "I'll join the junkyard expedition then. With any luck I'll find something more aerodynamic then my pistol to throw at people when I run out of ammo. We really should order some spare clips.."

 

Try no to go wild at the bar Ed. If you start a fight and end in jail, I'm not helping you getting out of there.

By the way, if one of you is good with speach, you should also come with us. If we meet the people we are looking for, that should come handy. We're leaving in 15 minute, so make your mind.

 

Going to need a roll from you.

 

OOC: Can we try to make our home made explosive?

edit: Right let forgot about that. For now.

 

... I'm going to defer questions like that for now.

But even if you can, I don't see that on a talent, so you have no experience with it and you'd be going off of untrustworthy second-hand knowledge and under the understanding that screwing this up is probably going to have the same effect as attempting to swallow a primed frag grenade because you saw one defused that way on the cartoons.

 

Upon leaving for the Dog's Scrotum bar, Ed squints around and then starts walking confidently east. In very short order, he is very lost, and appears to have wandered into a residential district. There are a few corner-stores nearby, and idle pedestrians try to ignore the large man in the suit as they make their way around him.

Meanwhile, Jonah and John make their way to the junkyard and landfill. The mentioned hobos do not appear to be present at this time. John finds nothing of use, but upon Jonah's inspection a wrecked car reveals itself. It's hardly anything but twisted, crushed, and broken frame, and there is almost nothing of it that isn't in some way damaged, but the engine fuel has somehow not yet been siphoned away. He is able to carefully extract roughly one liter of fuel from the wrecked engine, into a two-liter plastic soda bottle.

At the same time, Red and Coyote approach a shifty individual with greasy and oiled slicked-back hair, dressed like someone from an old biker movie. He nods at Coyote with the casual recognition of one bit of street-scum to another. He is much less appreciative of Red, who is trying but not really succeeding at fitting in, and even Coyote's quick "With me." does little to dissuade his suspicion.

"... I don't trust ya's. You're gonna have to do me a little favor first."

 

"As long as it's the type of favor that gets us a discount later."

Might as well hear him out, hopefully this won't get us killed too fast.

[blockquote]Rolled 1d20 : 15, total 15[/blockquote]

 

[blockquote]Rolled 1d20 : 11, total 11[/blockquote]

Gather metal to be used as scrap for repairs.

 

You scavenge around, but don't really find much that isn't rusted beyond all recognition, or crushed soda and food cans, usually with rank traces of what they contained left inside. Still, there's a little scrap in here that might at some point be usable for something.

"Easy pal, I'm not the one who gets to decide things like that. But I'll put in a word for ya's. Anyhow, there's this little bunch of punks what think they're hot stuff. Cut classes and lift cigs and harrass people for money and think it makes 'em worf some'fin. Now, problem is they think they can get away with mugging people around here, getting the cops up in a fit, and then not even slide us a cut.

What I'm saying is, I want you to go ahead and teach these little shits a life-lesson, you know what I mean? Let them know just how much as we 'ppreciate that sorta thing around here."