Dave Judd's page

Dave hears the crash, some shouting, then the truck engine start up out back. “Damn,” he mutters, “I really wanted to steal that truck…”

“Forget being quiet Sam,” he says more loudly, pushing open the door. “Let’s just start loading stuff up as quick as we can. If you find a window or something yell for the other two to get in here too.

“Now, I want a couple of crowbars, a pair of bolt-cutters, a screwdriver set, a wrench set, a proper first aid kit, those gas masks if we can find ‘em, a hammer, a bag of nails, we’ll grab a trolley or wheelbarrow or something to dump it all in, let’s see, what else? Some heavy-duty duct tape, a couple of good torches or flashlights or whatever they’re called here – some of those L.E.D. ones if they have ‘em, good light output and they draw like no power – a good assortment of batteries, a length of hose-pipe …”

He’s jogging as he’s talking, into the store, looking around for the things he wants and grabbing them off shelves.

If at all possible, he'll grab something he can use as a weapon first - a crowbar if possible, or a heavy wrench, big screwdriver, hammer, whatever.

Stealth: 4+5 = 9 … lucky there doesn’t appear to be anyone around.

Dave peers into the staff room and then, strangely, tiptoes in and grabs one of the metal chairs around the table and brings it out into the corridor, although he bangs the leg against the door frame on his way out. Leaving it pushed up against the wall in the corridor, he then points to the large door, shrugs, makes an “I guess that’s it” face, and then heads over to the door. Listens at it (11+4 = 15) and if the coast seems relatively clear, pushes it open.

When Sam gets near, he puts his mouth to her ear and whispers, “with those guys out the back, we might need to get everything ourselves. I’ve got a mental list. Look for a wheelbarrow we can load up with stuff…”

“Rightio, follow me Sam. Put your feet where I do, jump at the points that I do, you’ll be fine.”

Dave is pretty sure she will be. Her martial arts training should do her good. Again, Dave makes it look easy. He takes the jump between the burger place and the roof of the hardware store from near the north west corner, then drops into a crouch behind the bulk of the stairwell, and turns to watch Samantha running the course.

“This thing is airborne?” Dave rummages in his backpack, and pulls out his first aid kit, containing a few white cotton mouth masks. “I picked up these for bird flu … haven’t been wearing them, ‘cos you look like kind of a dick if no one else is … but it might be a good idea until we can get some proper gas masks.” He slips one of the masks on and offers the others around.

“Yeah, no worries Patrick, we’ll head to the hospital with you,” he says, his voice slightly muffled, “but lets pick up some masks and gloves and stuff … we’ll probably be heading into infection central. I’m just glad I don’t get sick very often. Hey, can you load my pack into your van? Maybe drive it around to the back door of the hardware place, don’t let the guys out on the street see that you’re heading over there. I’ll go in through the roof, come out and give you the all clear … well, anyone else is welcome to come with me if they can keep up.” He flashes a grin.

Kruel, time of day? Outside lighting conditions?

Dave notes where the punk went, and also the open door on the hardware store roof, then climbs back down from the roof and makes his way back into Starbucks.

“It’s getting pretty crazy out there,” he’s addressing Samantha, but speaks loudly enough that the others can hear as well, “seems to be a gun battle or something going on down in the city, and the locals here are starting to get a bit feral.” He indicates with a gesture the guys with rifles who can still be seen in the distance along the road to the north, and the angry group outside the hardware store. “I was in Vietnam during one of the bad bird flu outbreaks a few years back, but things never got near this crazy. This A.S.E. thing is serious sh*t. I hope the quarantine holds back home …

“Anyway, I think we need to get some supplies and find somewhere to hole up for a while. Somewhere there’s not too many people around. I sure as hell don’t want to catch this thing, and I don’t want to get shot or anything either if people start rioting or something.

“There’s a big food place or something just up the road, we could probably pick up some canned food or something – something a bit more long term than cake and chocolate bars … and if we want to pick up anything from the hardware store – it seems popular – there’s a couple of ways in that the crowd outside doesn’t seem to have twigged to yet.”

At this point he lowers his voice, speaking more quietly to Samantha (listen check for the others to hear?). “You know I like getting around by foot … but if we wanted to pick up a lot of supplies – who knows how long until this thing blows over – we might want to pick up some transport. Don’t go all psycho cop on me or anything, but I think I could hotwire a car if we needed to … I’ve done it a couple of times before. There’s a big mother f*cker truck out the back, and plenty of other cars and bikes and stuff around…”

Dave walks out to the centre of the street, then glances about, keeping an eye out for the cops he noticed earlier – too often those guys didn’t appreciate the art of movement. The coast is apparently clear. He turns and gives a sloppy salute to the remaining trio of the would-be traceuers, and begins his run.

An quick jog brings him towards the silver SUV parked outside Starbucks – an easy leap and he’s on the bonnet, another gains him the roof – in both cases his tread is kept to the edges, the strong points, to avoid damaging the vehicle and throwing himself off balance. He sets the car’s alarm wailing, but he’s done that often enough before that it doesn’t startle him.

Without breaking pace he leaps out and upward, stepping onto a broad, conveniently placed tree-branch and a short leap from there and he’s the parapet of the building.

The flat roof is graveled and littering with air-conditioning hoods and other pieces of plant equipment. He chooses a curving path that clears most of the obstructions and will line him up for the jump at the end. His run begins easy, then speeds up as he curves around. He reaches the parapet near the north east corner and leaps again, easily clearing the narrow gap between this and the adjacent building. He doesn’t have the height to reach the other roof – at least not without a better run off and more speed – but as he jumps he reaches out and grabs the edge of the other roof, and using the momentum of his leap, pulls himself up and over in a vaulting motion, until he stands atop the flat roof of the burger joint.

He turns and flashes a self-satisfied grin to those (he assumes are) watching from the window of Starbucks, then turns to talk to the punk.

“Bugger … were’d he go?”

Feeling perhaps slightly silly, Dave looks around the roof. Presumably the guy went back downstairs. He’ll look at the roof access door, see if its been wedged open or anything, and if it hasn’t, he’ll try it, see if its operable without a key from this side. Then he’ll use the vantage of the building’s height to see what can be seen around about, to all sides of the building.

Perception: 14+4 = 18

What time of day is it? And what time does the sun set in this time and part of the world?

“I’m Dave,” the Aussie introduces himself to the pair over by the fridge, as he too helps himself to a couple of bottles of water and some biscuits. “Are you two locals? Sam and I,” he indicates the blonde woman that he’s been sitting with, “have only been in town a couple of days, haven’t really gotten our bearings yet … Lonely Planet can only tell you so much,” he adds with a wry grin.

He glances out the other window, away from the street, towards the parking lot, and looks thoughtfully over at the burger place, taking in the guy sitting on the roof.

“You mentioned a van man – Patrick was it? – is that yours out there? The black one? Yeah … hmm, ok, I guess I’ll find another way up then.”

Abruptly, without explaining himself, he stands and walks outside, letting the glazed door swing shut again behind him. He spends a few moments looking around.

I need a way to get up on the rood of the burger place. I’m thinking, start the other side of the road outside, bonnet of the silver car, roof of the silver car, across a few handy tree branches, onto the roof of starbucks, run across the roof in a curve, leap and grab the parapet of the burger place and pull myself up. Seem reasonably doable? Checks required?

EDIT: Dave is looking for the most direct way between point A and point B here. He’s smart enough to realize that this is not a good time or place to break a leg or anything like that, so if this looks tricky (DCs above 10) he’ll reconsider, hard (DCs above 15) he’ll give it up.

Samantha seems pre-occupied, and doesn’t answer him immediately. Dave looks around at the other guys left in the Starbucks, and nods slightly as he catches the eye of the Filipino looking guy who sits nearby. Guy looks nervous, worried. Hell, they all did, Dave included he was sure … but this guy maybe a bit more than the others. Maybe he was the nervous type … or maybe he knew something that Dave didn’t.

He stands, and begins walking around the place. He doesn't like sitting still, but he's at a bit of a loss for what to do.

"You guys gonna hang here long?" he asks the room at large, looking at the keys left on the counter.

“Martial law! Bloody hell! Sam, did you hear that?”

Dave Judd looks out the large front window of the Starbucks, almost as if he expects to see soldiers marching down the street right now, but, as it was when he looked out thirty seconds ago, the street is not crowded; there's the groupies outside the hostel, and he saw some cops a few minutes ago ... but it's fairly quiet.

“Man, I knew we should have walked to the airport – we’d have been there by now, might have made a flight. F*ckin taxis. Still …” his voice grows less heated, more thoughtful, and he sits back down into the cushioned seat, “they reckon this thing has hit all the airports anyway … not sure what we do now.” He slips into silence, toying with the zipper of the backpack that rests on the floor in front of him, and looks out the window again, quirking a half smile as he watches the groupies practice their backflips. He takes another sip of coffee.

Hey, just because there’s a potentially deadly disease breakout, doesn’t mean a man doesn’t need coffee!

I’m thinking that Sam and Dave are staying in a cheap hotel or upmarket backpackers hostel located upstairs or across the road from the Starbucks. If things seem serious, they’ve probably decided to get out of town, but it’s taken them a while to be able to organise flights / tickets whatever.

They may be currently waiting in the Starbucks for their (now late) taxi or shuttle bus to the airport, grabbing a last coffee or checking out the worsening situation at the attached internet café or on the in-house tv or whatever.

Sound ok Flash?

Alright!

I'm done with the basics. Need to add background, description etc, and might tweak a few things...

Haven’t stated my guy yet, but I think I’ll use this name and avatar.

The character concept is developing … I think he’ll be something of a “professional” (or at least prolific) traveller / backpacker and into some sort of fringe or extreme sport; maybe parkour, free running, BASE jumping, something like that. Whether he’ll be best served as a Fast, Strong or Tough hero I’ll need to refresh my familiarity with those classes. He’ll most likely use the Adventurer background / profession.