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Cree drops to the ground, taking up a position near the exit to cover the woman's potential escape, reaching into his belt for a new clip of ammunition and slamming it into The Business. His eyes never deviate from the woman as he reloads his weapon, keeping the barrel trained on her. "Best start talking, after throwin' an accusation like that around."
Cree slams the bolt back in his rifle, loading the next round in the chamber as he slides it forward, a motion he's become quite accustomed to over the past couple of days. Here goes nothin' He mutters to himself, kissing his trigger finger and lifting it to the sky in thanks as his cybernetic arm adjusts to target the leader of this gang. With another breath, he squeezes, firing another round of hot metal at his new target.
Cree winces as his organic arm is hit, the smell of singed fur in his nostrils as he drops to the ground to reduce his profile, taking careful aim at the Vesk and squeezing off another round from his weapon. It is clear by his expression that he is far too annoyed to come up with another clever retort for his quarry.
Cree springs to his feet, dipping into the room and loosing a shot at the nearby Vesk as he throws his shoulder into the bar, hoping to use it as cover from both his target and the woman hiding further within. He looks over his shoulder and chuckles as he notices where his somewhat rogue shot had landed. "Ha! Better back down, big fella!"
Cree ducks below the worst of the grenade blast, shielding his face with one arm. And again, I'm grateful they make those things explode up. Let'em tear up the tall folk... Following the explosion, he drops to the ground, sighting in on the nearby bouncer and loosing a hot metal slug - an all too familiar routine for the young Ysoki by now.
Cree sighs, springing to his feet again and sprinting for the now-open door that the bouncers retreated into, so he could see more than a mass of bar patrons packed at the door. "Every time I go right, they go left..."
Cree races further into the establishment, taking position near the circular bar inside and dropping to his stomach to sight his rifle.
Cree follows the taller folk into the club, his rifle still firmly in both hands, eyeing the crowd. "Pull it, and let's get out of the way and find something to hide behind, eh, fellas?"
Cree pops himself up from the ground, spitting two rounds of ammunition from his cheek into his open hand and sliding them into his rifle as he closes the distance between himself and his comrades. "I'm with Krev. We get in now, before more show up to cause a whole lotta ruckus. Done enough killing for today, I think. At least the unnecessary kind." His voice hardens as he finishes his statement, staring at the open door to the club with malicious intent in his eye. "I'll save the last of today's deaths for the ***** responsible for Kreel."
Cree relaxes, falling into the familiar pseudo-trance that allows his mechanical arm to make micro-adjustments to his aim. "Dimmo, stay where you are, you lazy prick, and don't get yourself shot!" Cree shouts back in the same direction as the bouncer did before inhaling and squeezing the trigger.
Cree sighs, muttering under his breath. "Son of a....really, with this?" The Ysoki steps forward and pulls his rifle from his shoulder. He drops to the ground, prone, and takes careful aim at the bouncer, waiting for things to escalate before firing the loud weapon. "Stop it! There's no way you win this, fella! Don't wanna get yourself shot, do you?" OOC/Mechanics:
Move action: Move 30' closer, draw weapon Swift action: Drop Prone Standard action: Ready action to fire if bouncer makes another hostile action
Cree chuckles at Val's question, shaking his head. "Okay, that's a good point, and one I hadn't considered. My poker face is as good as I am tall - which is, not at all. I'm all ears, then, when it comes to a different approach."
Cree snickers, turning to the others. "Fellas. I have a plan. I'll need a cart, and about 10 minutes. I bet I can rig us up a fake bill of lading, and smuggle all of our stuff in. I'll push the cart full of weapons, you guys get the pat-down, and we meet up inside while you 'help me unload.' Thoughts?"
Hey folks. I'm writing to all of my games to let you know that I'm going through some stuff right now. A dear friend of mine just passed away, and the past few days have been rather hectic, with friends and family visiting from out of town, a memorial service this afternoon, etc. I'm not abandoning anyone, but I do appreciate your patience and understanding while I take a couple of days to get things sorted. I estimate I'll be back sometime before the end of this week. Thank you.
"I'd like that story very much, Jabaxa. We'll revisit that later. As far as our recent nosiness, Duravor Kreel is dead, and we didn't think you had anything to do with it, but we thought you might know who did."
Cree follows Herald into Mama Fats, unable to control his awe as he stares at Jabaxa's scars and eye. He flexes his own cybernetic arm, staring down at it, almost wistfully. "That's...I'd love a drink. Did you put that eye in yourself? It's gorgeous, Jabaxa. Like, damn. I'm a little jealous. Can I ask what happened?"
Cree ponders Krevlor's statement for a moment before shaking his head. "That shot was too clean for an accident. Something seems fishy here. I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but I've been in deep enough trouble with sketchy enough folks to be wary." He gestures at his mechanical arm as he speaks, as if to imply it's somehow related to his experiences with these sorts of gangs.
Cree shakes his head, shrugging. "Not blaming anything for anyone - ourselves included. Everything is chaos, friend. Sometimes good things happen to bad people, and sometimes good fellas like Kreel get murdered for no good reason. Just saying we shouldn't feel guilty for acting on the information we had."
Cree snickers at Krevlor's comments, and Valorus' correction. He replies to the Shirren's message to him out loud. "Val, I'm happy to do any sort of work that doesn't involve getting shot. Fiddling on the infosphere is hardly an effort, after saving all of your lives back on the landing pad." He has a wide grin on his face as he speaks, clearly joking. Later, the Ysoki shakes his head at Herald. "No use killing yourself over what happened. We saw live fire, we stopped it. These Level 21 folks sound like a gang for hire, not some pillars of virtue. It's sad Kreel died, but if you're not gonna keep your ass out of trouble, you should be able to watch it, you know?"
Cree will bunk with Krevlor, and will begin the evening by setting to work, laying out a cloth on the floor and cleaning The Business, a nightly ritual he finds somewhat cathartic. He'll also reload the spent magazine from earlier in the day. After, he'll flip open the panel on his forearm, and connect via the sluggish hotel network to the central Absalom Station infosphere, calling up anything that Krevlor might ask about.
Cree looks up at Krevlor and Darshe, sighing. "Well, I was going to suggest we stay at my place, but I doubt it would accommodate you great big ********s. So I suppose I'll spend some of my recently hard-earned cash and stay someplace ritzy. You know, in case we get murdered, or attempted-murdered, for that matter. But I'm claiming top bunk."
The Ysoki nods, his expression uncommonly solemn. "Chiskisk. Thank you. We'll find out what we can about Kreel's untimely demise. I ask that the Society provide us the...leeway we may require, should things arrive at their violent logical conclusion. Will we be jailed, if it becomes a matter of defending ourselves? I've spent nights on the cold floors of those cells, and I wouldn't wish that upon my friends, here."
Cree saunters off of the ringtrain underfoot of his Kasatha companion. "The Spire's a great, big monster of a place. They know just about everything happening in Absalom, so it wouldn't surprise me if they knew about Kreel." He lets out a low whistle as the Lorespire comes into view. "I never get tired of looking at it, even now."
Cree sets off toward the Lorespire Complex, nodding up at officer Dereforth. "Thank you kindly, Officer. We'll catch up later, I'm sure."
Cree steps back as the medical teams swarm around the bodies, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and waving at the human woman. "Howdy. Sure, you can ask us anything you like. We got off that ship," the Ysoki points at the ramp the group had departed only a minute ago, "watched ol' Durovar here get shot, and then participated in a lively kerfuffle. You need anything more specific?"
Cree skirts around the info booth he'd been using as cover, yanking a handful of new rounds from his belt and holding them in his teeth. He reloads his rifle as he walks toward the Dwarf's body, bleeding on the ground. "He's gone, ain't he?" Shot looked clean. That's too damn bad. I liked Duravor."
Swift Action: Stand from Prone (because I'm not sure I could see over the booth otherwise) Move Action: Target R2 Standard Action: Fire
Cree pulls the bolt-action back on his rifle, ejecting the cartridge before slamming the bolt home and firing again in quick succession.
Updated a status bar for Cree.
Cree focuses his attention on the gang member outside his makeshift foxhole , taking steady aim as he drops to the ground once more. He plants his elbow against the floor to steady himself, inhales, and squeezes the trigger with his exhalation. "Gonna give all you ********'s The Business if you keep this up."
Cree kips up to his feet in a hurry, charging the information booth behind Valorus and posting up inside.
Cree remains prone, pulling the bolt back on his rifle to eject a cartridge, then slamming it home to fire another shot. His hand twitches slightly, aiming the weapon of its own accord, and he sighs. "I'm gonna give this fella The Business twice, it seems."
I'm also being logged out constantly, both in Chrome and in Safari on my phone.
Cree remains low to the ground, focusing his attention on the nearest member of the gang to the right. Time to level the playing field, I suppose. He stares down the barrel of "The Business" - the rifle has the words burned into one side - and aims, relaxing his computerized arm and allowing it to adjust the trajectory of his shot with its own calculations. After the adjustment, he exhales slowly, squeezing the trigger and firing.
Cree slides his hunting rifle off of his shoulder, dropping to his stomach and lifting it to rest his metal arm on the trigger. "Come on, Big Poppy. Don't let me down today..." He mutters to himself as he surveys the scene from the ground.
I'm here! I posted! Work was busier than usual, and I got all wrapped up in other nonsense.
Cree steps down the ramp into the station, his rifle slung over one shoulder, spacesuit covering his fur, still wet after the long, luxurious shower he'd taken during the docking of the ship. He stretches his arms above his head, yawning, and looks around. "Ahhh, home, sweet home. Now, where's Durovar?"
Cree doesn't even look at his cards - instead, his beady little eyes watch his fellow passengers as they fidget and examine their hands. "So, why the Starfinders? What brought you all to this point? Did you lose a bet or something?" His voice carries a note of casual curiosity mixed with mild disdain.
Cree chuckles as the rest of the group discusses their talents. "I get the feeling we could all go on about what we do all day, but it's not gonna make a lick of difference unless we can back it up when the time comes. So, instead of wagging our tongues, who wants to play a game?" The small man produces a deck of cards from within his forearm, grinning.
A lanky, tawny-colored Ysoki steps out of the shower quarters. He is holding a black towel around his waist with his conspicuously metal left arm. He seems not to mind or notice his state of undress as he addresses the gathered passengers in the adjoining common room. "Howdy folks! Name's Cree en Absalom. I'm finally heading home after some unsavory business." He holds up his free hand as he walks over to the trunk at the foot of his bed. "Give me just one second, yeah?" He lifts the lid, retrieving a pair of undergarments, and removes the towel to step into them. Afterward, the small Ratfolk retrieves what looks like an old, wooden pipe, and sticks it into his mouth. He totters over to the nearest seat, next to Herald, and slides into it. "Now then. I didn't hear y'all coming in over the sound of my shower - I take'em kinda long, just to piss the captain off. I did hear that you're all going to become Starfinders. If that's true, it seems like you could use a computer geek. Perhaps a charming, clever, one-armed Ysoki with a pile of gambling debts and a desperate need to turn his life around?" He winks, a wry smile on his face as he addresses the group.
Cree is from Absalom Station. Is it possible for him to meet the rest there, or is there stuff happening on the shuttle that matters? I could've been called away for something, and be headed home, if that's the case.
Cree is a smart, snarky Ysoki Mechanic with a mechanical left arm that serves as his custom rig. He's your go-to guy for engineering problems, and he's also a crack shot with a rifle.
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