Hey, I'm sorry, but I've been struggling with this game. I'm just having a hard time getting the character's motives and drive settled.
I am enjoying your other games immensely.
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Sylar approaches the first agent and strikes up a conversation about the train's schedule. After exchanging pass phrases, he tells the agent that his assistance is needed for an upcoming operation only a few days ahead.
Sorry, i think a post got eaten. April, How do you want to go about trying to trip up the mole? I was thinking some sort of canary trap.
Peter Hafner* smiles, not a friendly smile, but a 'how long will this take' smile. He hands over his papers, and carefully notes down his currency as requested. Since he wasn't hiding anything he was helpful in displaying his farm tools when asked. He happily went onto a lengthy description of each tool, the known or suspected origin and use of the tool through the ages, why so many different and yet similar tools were used. *his alias
Travel together or as strangers?
You're not scared are you? I'm sure they could find someone else if this seems a little daunting. Sylar grins as he ribs April.
I'll be looking for a set of Swiss made farming knives. harvest machete
These are blades between 3 and 8 inches. And fits the cover.
Sylar cocked an eyebrow at April, well it looks like we'll have to skip the beach. He looks closely and carefully at each of the pictures, committing them to memory. Followed shortly by the contact procedures and operation instructions. Last he studies his credentials shifting his thought process to become his new identity. No longer Sylar, his stance shifted slightly, no longer the predatory watchfulness of an agent, but a more carefree relaxed demeanor of a salesman.
Sylar nods in thanks, he knew she probably didn't know anything so he found a chair and settled in for the wait.
It wasn't a cover blown message, for which Sylar was thankful. He waited seven minutes before folding the paper he had been perusing and heading for his room. He had come lightly, with an attache and only the lock-picks hidden in the bottom of the attache to suggest he was something unusual. He walked to a bus station and purchased a ticket to Gyor. From there he bought a train ticket to Prague that had a stop in Vienna.
I'm good either way.
I'm still here, but maybe we need to recruit and reboot?
Sylar understands that sometimes a stake out is simply boring and requires patience as he continues to sit and read the paper while looking for the mark to enter the hotel.
We seem to have skipped the part of what each of us plans to do in this caper. So far it seems more like a bunch of solo agents working the same mission. Maybe a fade-back to when we discussed roles?
Sylar nods and returns to the TASS paper he had been reading. It makes a nice prop while he keeps an eye on the comings and goings in the lobby.
Sylar plays dumb about knowing he can speak Russian or German but has no problem recognizing a camera or gestures. He stands and after a quick look around the area will pose them and take a few snap shots. He'll try to get the guy sipping coffee into the background of at least one of the pictures, just to see if there is a reaction.
Sylar heads back to down to the lounge and looks for a publication he can read. He grabs a seat that gives him a view of the lobby and orders a coffee.
Sylar smiles and involves himself occasionally in the conversation with the other Nintendo representatives to set his cover and be noticed. That evening he reviewed and memorized the hotel floor plans before tearing it up into small pieces and flushing it. He didn't want anything untoward in his room. The next morning he headed for the tour.
At least I tried to research a local beer, I just didn't have time to research when those companies developed their brands.
Sylar made a quick glance around the room, nothing obvious to tie him to anything other than what he arrived as, a businessman on a trip. He preferred to leave the clandestine tools to his companions as he gave himself a once over in the mirror before heading for the bar. Sylar paused for a moment at the entrance to the bar and gave the room a once over before heading for the end of the bar, A dreher bak, please. Sylar watches the patrons of the bar through the mirror along the back as he sips the Hungarian beer.
Sylar flies to Japan to switch identities. Then flies to Italy, travels by train to Yugoslavia, then into Hungary and Budapest.
Equipment list: Attache case 3#, $10
Binoculars 1.5#, $50
Remaining funds in dollars, deutsche marks and Forints.
Well that's rather racist to assume that anyone that works for Nintendo must be Japanese. Do you expect everyone at Taco Bell to be Mexican?
Seriously? All this over a kids toy? Buy one and take it apart? Sylar shrugs, Maybe from Hasbro, but I was trying to work a non-american angle.
Hmm, I think one cover identity for me would be as a representative of Nintendo's European Acquisitions group. Second would be as a bridge engineer for Hungary's department of transportation. I'll want that one in reserve, the first will get me into the game convention.
Fnord72's alias
Fnord72's TS character, with background. I have left off equipment. I also have one language that he is fluent in as undecided. I figure that I can use that as an in to mesh with the group if needed.
Ditto!!! We need to pick up the momentum!
Sylar continues to ask questions, trying to get a feel for what has changed and what is in store. Status of internet? What about the rest of the world? Dino's breaking loose seems like it would be regional. US government? Tanks didn't make big holes in dino's? How do they survive on this farm? Seems weird the military couldn't hold back the dino's but this rickety farmhouse can. Who won the last superbowl? Ham radio work? How far has society regressed? (Looking for a decade or level of technology to compare to, i.e. WWI era, 1800's etc.)
I'd suggest learning a bit more from these kind folk before blidnly moving on. Like, this Brockton place. They have the same laws we're used to? Is there still a USA? Do we need to worry about bandits?
Interesting, it doesn't feel hotter. But we sure found an ocean where there should be farmland. Just how many dinosaurs they make? Should have been no problem for the military to take care of that issue.
Ripper? We ran into a T-rex on the beach, it took a few shots, and fortunately didn't get a chance to chomp on anyone. Sylar takes a look around, looking for any signs of technology. What happened? Where did the dino's come from?
Crew and passengers of Transglobal Airlines Flight 652 trans-Atlantic from New York to Heathrow, we crashed a bit after take off, landed in the ocean, washed up on shore, attacked by, and killed a dinosaur, came here. My name's Sylar. We have wounded with us. And it was 204 when I woke up this morning. Sylar waves at the others step back a bit, lets not all crowd his front door.
What year is it? Sylar looks back at the others, the building doesn't look like it would last against a trex walking by. Wonder how he keeps them away.
HELLO?! ANYONE HERE?! Sylar motions for the others to hold up. Richard, watch right. Sylar shifts himself slightly to the left, keeping an eye out for anything threatening.
Like I said, middle of a corn field. How far away are we? Can we tell the condition of the structures? Any signs of movement? Worked fields?
It'll probably be easier to move if we deflate it and pack it up. If we really need to cross water, the kit should have a small manual pump. Sylar motions to a couple of sturdier passengers, help me with the travois please, we need to get the pilot and... well whatever his name is, into these and get off the beach.
ok, i'm having fun with the character, but where is everyone? Let's get this show going!
While working to cut out strips for a travois Sylar kneels facing the group especially Gregor, Never said I was in charge, but you'd be chow if Richard and I hadn't been here. So I guess that gives me a vote. And instead of complaining about the state of things, I'm doing something about our situation, you could call that another vote. And, I have a gun. Sylar gives Gregor a discerning look before addressing the others. If you have something useful to say, say it. If you have a useful skill, get with it. If all you can do is complain about the situation, stand next to Gregor. Now, are those rafts ready to carry?
While the others argue, Sylar takes a closer look at the rafts, they are pretty big, and inflated unwieldy. The two rafts would be easiest to keep in one piece, at least one of them, for now. Pulling his pocket knife out he looks for a good spot, and stabs one of the inflated cells of the plane ramp. As the air hisses out he looks at the others arguing, walks over to a life raft, pulls the emergency bag out and slings it over a shoulder, one emergency beacon, ready for travel. He shakes his head and walks back to the deflating ramp and drops the bag on the ground, maybe more action and less discussion will get us there quicker. With the cell deflated, he starts cutting along the seam to cut out a section of the material. We can cut this into strips and wrap them around a pair of oars. Fold up the rest of the material for shelter. If someone wants to look for the plugs on the life rafts, and pull all the gear out of them. Pull the ropes off too. Unite the knots, don't cut them.
I hope things work out better for you.
According to google maps, 20 miles inland of the Massachusetts coast, 23 years from now. Anyone else have a cell phone? I'd like to confirm this with another devide, and i'll take those codes Richard. Sylar takes a look at his watch and turns, pointing out to sea. According to the map, Plymouth, Massachusetts is 20 miles that way, and we're standing in a corn field.
Interesting, I have a signal from a satellite, but nobody is responding. With the satellite connection established, Sylar tries to query his calendar to verify date and time. He'll also pull up his map application and see if it can sync up his current position.
Yeah, a freaking dinosaur. This is surreal. Sylar looks at Killian, what kind of fan? How much research did you do? Hear anything about any research into dino-cloning, like that movie? Does your fandom cover paleontology? Sylar pulls his sat-phone attachment from his bag and hooks it into his phone. Whispering softly to himself he watches the 'acquiring signal icon blink', come on, come on. I just hope this is some secret research facility's escaped project. The alternative is less fun to consider. Not that it will do much good... Sylar walks over to the others in the raft. You can come back to shore now. And just for what it's worth. Screaming just makes you sound like food. Do try to be quiet when the giant dinosaur comes charging. He takes stock of the others checking to see which seem to be holding it together and which are ready to bolt. He finds himself already switching into a triage mode, save those he can, run faster than those he can't.
It was kinda obvious to me that it was going to be some sort of "lost" kickoff. (Just about any time all the players start on a boat or plane) Not that I don't mind. I know there is the whole "I want to surprise the players thing." But there is also the "those that don't have a lot of luck, or the right skills, die anyway" aspect. Making a character that the player "knows" is going to be in some sort of altered existence may be metagaming, but it also symbolizes the innate preparedness or luck of the character. (The players already know they are going to play fantasy, or star voyaging, or gritty steampunk, etc.) I look at my sheet and I still took a lot of abilities that in a "lost" setting immediately become moot (wealth, law enforcement, etc). The game has mechanics for dealing with those kind of situations, if they are unlikely to be of use for the foreseeable future. The question becomes, is this going to remain some sort of "modern" genre, or will it be changing? Be careful that you didn't tell the players to make star trek officers and the game is actually Faerun. Some players like that, and will try to plan for it, others won't.
Sylar stares in shock at the creature laying before him. This was something from a nightmare. And it wasn't New England. Even through his shock, his recent training at the academy pushes him to action. Options? This is some scary s#$t! The beach is exposed, but with this fog we have no idea which way to go. Back in the rafts? And what, just float in the current? Wait for the fog to clear? Only positive I can consider right now is that if this is an apex predator, it hopefully means there aren't any more nearby. Sylar's talking is partially just voicing his own thoughts, partially opening up to the others. While talking he drops to one knee, and quickly ejects the clip from his Sig Saur and loads a fresh clip. Chambering a round, he ejects the fresh clip and loads a round from his partial clip and reloads the full magazine, providing him with the maximum rounds in the clip. Setting the safety, he slides the pistol back into his shoulder holster. Pulling a box of shells from the bottom of his bag he reloads his first magazine and slides it back into the holster. His gear had been packed for a flight, not walking. He next pulls out his sat phone and powers it up looking for a signal. Redistributing some of his gear, he next pulls the rifle stock from the bottom of his backpack and pulls the shoulder plate off. Inside the pieces of the .22 are stored and he quickly assembles the rifle. More for rabbits and wolves than dinosaurs, but its what I got. Every couple of seconds during this time, Sylar takes a quick look around checking for additional threats. He keeps everything inside one of his two bags, ready to grab and run if needed. It takes only a couple of minutes to ready himself. Standing he straps the carry-on under the backpack and shoulders the backpack. With the rifle slung from a shoulder, he looks back at the others. What? You don't travel prepared? I just wish I could have brought my mossberg and AR! Richard, right? Nice shooting, for a beat cop. Always thought you guys just sprayed and prayed. Thanks.
The T-rex was fast, maybe as fast as hollywood portrayed them. But still faster than himself. Knowing he wouldn't have time to turn and run for the raft, Sylar shifted to the side, separating himself from Richard in a hopes of keeping the creature in a position to choose between the two of them.
Seeing how the creature was affected by the shots, Sylar fired again.
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