On the way Buck recounts his conversation.  "Well, which one of us is gonna be a damned Human Knight of Ooogy-boogy?  Gee, tough choice...", he says looking around at his band of wooky-ape-frankie-droogs...."Nice.  How the hell did I get in this mess?  All I wanna do is make some money, now I'm playing the husband of who or WHAT I don't know, to a "woman" I've never seen, with a lisping, hair-lipped son.....real nice."

Creature sets off for the Green Line even as the whirring vocaphone powers down, and the rest of you follow.  The sturdy 'Stein pauses only long enough to grab a king-sized slice of pizza from a robodroid pushcart (today's special: jerk chicken with tealeaf and vinegar spices) before hopping onto a Sky-Bulb headed northeast toward Queen's Tower.

The Bulb door slam-bangs shut behind the four of you, and with a grunt the dwarf tram-smith releases the brake.  After a grinding lurch and a shower of electro-magic sparks your convoy of Sky Bulbs ascends along its guidewire to the tramway above.

This post brought to you by EGG and Appendix I

[I've got the day off, and after I go get a damn haircut I'll be back and able to post as substantially as needed.  If anybody has anything they want to do before getting on the Green Line feel free to chime in now.

[A few other notes:

[Sadly Gorgo Ubar's trance was but the first symptom of Degenerative Aura Contamination, and he has succumbed to Astral Peristalsis, swallowed up by unknown extradimensional forces.  None can say whether he'll be seen again....

[JM note: I'm relying on you players to keep an accounting of your wealth at least adequate for horseshoes & hand grenades.  Unless I tell you differently for a given purchase, let's keep it stupid, simples, and say everything costs 1 GC.]

Quote from: Rondo;246854On the way Buck recounts his conversation.  "Well, which one of us is gonna be a damned Human Knight of Ooogy-boogy?  Gee, tough choice..."

"I'll tell her I had an accident."

"Yea! No, offense, but you better hope she's got some wild tastes there, my midget donkey friend!", Buck grins and rubs Quazzer on the noggin.

(First round of hurricanes was nothing....this one looks like it might be rough, so you guys will know what's going on if i can't post...should be over by the time the weekend ends..)

The Sky Bulb convoy slides easily along tramway, rising to each anchor post and sinking again as it passes, trailing arcanostatic all the while.  

There's a short wait for the intersecting Blue Line to clear the interchange and you have a moment to take in the sprawling vista of God City, from the nosecone shacks and jet booster tenements of the Rocket Town slums to the mossy palaces out past the Elvesbeard Heights.  The rooftops and streets below, lit with the red and gold light of late afternoon, look like the rough sketches of a city planner with amnesia.  Half-built skyscrapers jut from the stone fortifications of Dwarven Delve.  Nearby a terraced hive of evolved apes shadows a meadow of cave hobling burrows.  A few streets beyond, Gypsy Haints have set up a ghost carnival in the rubble of a leveled city block.  In the far distant hills glowers the Viraxis Pyramid, its upper floors still blackened from the fires of the Boxcar Rebellion.

The Sky Bulb sways as the Green Line continues on, and you soon arrive at your stop.  Queens Tower is just a few blocks away, a six story spire in the high Galactic Medieval style.  White pennants and flags bearing a purple crown on a field argent* hang from the battlements.

*In true scientific fashion I did no research on heraldry -- or castles for that matter.  Do not seek to trouble me with facts.

[Hope you don't mind a bit of scene-setting.  I'll move things along this evening.  Perhaps you'll even meet Darryl...and his Mom  ]

Buck starts looking for a little store of some sort, "Aw nerts!  I forgot to get the hair-lipped kid some kind of gift!  Maybe I'll just give him my "Hobling Army Knife".  Every kid wants one of those.....kid will probably turn out to be 42 years old and living in the basement."

QuoteHope you don't mind a bit of scene-setting

Mind?  This is awesome.

Creature rides standing, holding onto one of the poles in the middle of the car.  His other hand is nonchalantly at the hilt of his blackhole metal riot baton, as he keeps his eyes open for pickpockets or cannibalistic hobos.

Buck, being ever germ conscious, keeps his gloves on, and eyes peeled for the same.  I might point out that he keeps his .38 "cross-draw" style on the holster under his left arm...he's keeping the snap down on that for sure, and watching distances for any knuckleheads in his breathing space.

Quote from: wulfgar;246972Creature rides standing, holding onto one of the poles in the middle of the car.  His other hand is nonchalantly at the hilt of his blackhole metal riot baton, as he keeps his eyes open for pickpockets or cannibalistic hobos.

Quote from: Rondo;246988Buck, being ever germ conscious, keeps his gloves on, and eyes peeled for the same.  I might point out that he keeps his .38 "cross-draw" style on the holster under his left arm...he's keeping the snap down on that for sure, and watching distances for any knuckleheads in his breathing space.

As it turns out you have the Bulb mostly to yourselves, save for a sleepy orgoyle* nodding over the day's broadsheet.   Buck spots neither germs nor knuckleheads.

Quote from: Rondo;246965Buck starts looking for a little store of some sort, "Aw nerts!  I forgot to get the hair-lipped kid some kind of gift!  Maybe I'll just give him my "Hobling Army Knife".  Every kid wants one of those.....kid will probably turn out to be 42 years old and living in the basement."

It's a fairly swank residential neighborhood, so there's a few classy restaurants and the kind of corner bar where the tables are so clean and glossy you can almost see your reflection in the wood grain.  But no shops to be seen.

*Dear Dave Hargrave: I love you, man.

Quote from: Rondo;246872"Yea! No, offense, but you better hope she's got some wild tastes there, my midget donkey friend!", Buck grins and rubs Quazzer on the noggin.

"Sir," Quazarn snaps, "if we are to have a successful adventuring partnership, you will kindly keep your hands off my head."

Quote from: Dr Rotwang!;247019"Sir," Quazarn snaps, "if we are to have a successful adventuring partnership, you will kindly keep your hands off my head."

[Indeed.  That's how slashfic happens, Rondo :eek:]

Quote from: Rondo;246965Buck starts looking for a little store of some sort, "Aw nerts!  I forgot to get the hair-lipped kid some kind of gift!  Maybe I'll just give him my "Hobling Army Knife".  Every kid wants one of those.....kid will probably turn out to be 42 years old and living in the basement."

"No matter!" Quazarn beams.  "Any random piece of crap will do.  Lest we all forget," he says conspiratorily, "...I am a warlock".

[JM: Check yo' PMs.]

Queen's Tower stands on a small, neatly kept lot.  The base of the tower is ringed with tall windows, and ivy climbs the rough stone.  As you reach the low stoop the front door opens slightly and a lanky figure in gym shorts and a t-shirt edges outside.  Motioning for quiet, he wedges open the massive door, a fair foot thick, banded with iron and carved with runes.

"Hey guyth," says Darryl.  

The doorstop secured, he straightens up.  He's an unfortunate looking half-lizard teenager, all gangly knees and elbows, too large feet and bony foreclaws.  A pointed skull-knob and a ruff of scales frame his mostly human face, giving him the look of a weak-chinned squire in a helm and cowl of green chainmail.  But any knightly semblance is overwhelmed by his enormous moon eyes, shining behind bottle-thick goggles, and the dagger-like teeth revealed by his shy grin.

"I was sthtarting to think you got lotht," he continues.  "Sthorry I got all crazthy on the phone.  I'm not usually thuch a little wuthsy.  You guyth got me good though."  He glances around your group hopefully.  "Are you really in the Brawl? What'th your fighting  style? Where'th your dojo?"

[Darryl, more or less.  Imagine across between a sleestack and Milhouse and you're in the ballpark][/I]

Quote"Sir," Quazarn snaps, "if we are to have a successful adventuring partnership, you will kindly keep your hands off my head."

OOC: So says, the conehead making groping gestures and jumping in people's laps!!