This is a test drive for The Last Resort. You can use one of the handy prompts or make up your own.
Prompts
Prompt #1
You're about to leave Pugsy's bar, and you pull out your wallet to pay the tab. It runs away.
Oops.
The wallet was a prop and now you're stuck with a bill you can't pay. Pugsy is irritated, though, with some patrons ripping off tonight so he doesn't really want to just "put it on your tab". Someone else is going to have to cover it for you. Hopefully there's a freind or a potential friend around.
Prompt #2
You got stuck out at night, and you can't make it back to Blackstaff in time. Or you couldn't get the teleporters to lock on to you at your exploration point and you have to wait for a retrieval team. Whatever has happened, you're now stuck up a tree with six terrible little frowning green faces staring up at you as creepers toddle around the tree silently.
Have you called for help and have a rescuer coming? Are you planning an escape with your companion? Or are you passing the time and throwing fruit from the tree down at them.
Prompt #3
Optional. This can even be a potential 1st introductory post or network post asking questions about the setting.
1. Don't suppose you'd believe I left my wallet in my other robe, would you?
[ It's a good thing Dorian is just so charming. Finding someone willing to foot the bill shouldn't be too hard. All it should take is flirtatious a smile and a wave and good laugh or two. He doesn't even have to be disingenuous about it-- Dorian would have probably flirted with you regardless.
So yes, whether you are at the bar or walking in or wherever your character wants to be, rest assured, eye contact is being made and Dorian is smiling right at you, his head tilted ever so slightly. Do come join him, new friend. ]
2. [ Normally this would the point where the Inquisitor would have made camp. Truthfully, Dorian managed to avoid traveling at night when he was on his own. Caravans and traders made for much better company than tents and wildlife.
If one could even call these creature wildlife. If he could use all of his magic, he'd be fine-- oh, it wouldn't even be a problem. But well, that's not the case. And if it's a choice between making a fool of himself and being at least mostly exploded by bizarre green monsters, he'll go with the former. So time to broadcast his whereabouts and pray for a rescue. ]
So... I seem to be caught in a bit of a bind, as it were. Would any of you kinder souls out there be willing help me find my way back to the inn? With minimal damage to my person, if possible. I'd be so grateful.
[Elle doesn't immediately respond. It takes her a second to realize that the man is speaking in her direction and not to someone at the next table over. And then she thinks that he's talking to someone sitting next to her. But then she looks one way and then the other, and then remembers that she came to Pugsy's alone tonight purely to absorb the social atmosphere.
She finally returns his eye contact.
And she stares.
And then she finally starts to smile back, a little unsure, a lot shy, and incredibly sheepish.]
Um... I dunno. [Smooth. She blinks owlishly.] Why, did you?
[ Aw, how sweet. Dorian is quick to chuckle, signaling the drink he's already ordered for himself, as well as the spot where his coinpurse had previously 'sat down,' as it were. ]
Honestly, I didn't know I had another wallet until mine grew legs and ran off.
[ He doesn't miss a beat though, in fact it's almost funny, for all its inconvenience. Here's a guy who just oozes self-absorption-esteem, even after finding himself at the bar without a dime. ]
[She's glad that he's not... offended or something. She doesn't think he's laughing at her, exactly... Elle doesn't know. But she doesn't feel troubled by it.]
Oh. It happens every now and then, yeah. [Elle shifts in her seat in order to face him properly. If they're gonna be talking, she may as well.] There are these things... Little animals, I think? They're called props 'cause they can turn themselves into stuff. You should probably report it to somebody. They're an invasive species, so...
Normally if my wallet's wandered off, I'd think I had too much to drink.
[ He looks down at his glass of wine before picking it up and examining it thoroughly. No legs on this one, thankfully. Dorian seems at least pleased by that. ]
So, soon the rest of the guests might gain ambulant wallets as well? Sounds like they're quite the nuisance, these props. Fascinating.
[ Terrible and annoying, but that too. ]
They wouldn't happen to eat wallets, would they?
Edited (spacinggg) 2015-01-27 06:35 (UTC)
2 So late! Just ignore if you're not still interested
[Jokes on you, prop, because Fry didn't have any money in the first place!] Can't I just pretend like I'm gonna help out in the kitchen and then bail in twenty minutes or something? [Apparently not. Aw crud.
Maybe he's got some change in his pockets? Hey, yeah, that sounds like a good plan!]
You take quarters? [Not that he has many of them, either. Or that he can count them particularly quickly. Somebody help bail this poor sucker out?]
What ho, good chap! You have the look of a gent in need of some assistance with the oof. Allow me.
[And Bertie takes out a very full wallet and tosses a few high numerical bills at the publican. He doesn't know the extent of the poor fellow's tab, but reckons that that should cover it. Bertie doesn't think about money very much in general, being of the sort who always has enough that thinking about the value of money isn't required.]
Hey, you take that back! I've never met the oof before in my life!
[...No, his reply doesn't quite make sense. Thanks for noticing. In fact, he's got some suspicious eyes going on until the wallet comes out, and they fade entirely when the cash joins it.]
Wait a second... Five... Ten... Carry the one... Twenty-- Oh, crap, you're loaded!! [Of course, realizing that comes part and parcel to blurting it out. Still, he hasn't seen that much money since.... he doesn't know, forever maybe. Close enough to it. So, yeah, he's looking at it with the gaze of a guy who isn't jealous solely because he can't count how many dollars he doesn't have.]
[Bertie wonders if the man is speaking of Oofy Prosser, who does have a great deal of oof, even more than Bertie (hence the nickname). But to his knowledge, no one has called Oofy "The Oof" before.]
I say! That is very strong language. Too strong for the likes of this Wooster. [It's not quite a scold. Bertie doesn't have it in him to scold anyone. But the word "crap" is much harsher than what he's used to hearing.]
What, crap? [Oh, boy, the Twentieth Century is going to be so shocking to this poor rich man.]
You're not gonna write me up for it or anything, right? I won't do it again, maybe, I mean, if I remember. [fifty-fifty shot right there. But hey, he seems pretty okay for a rich guy with a stick up his ass---
[It's a good thing Felix is wearing his armor; he would so be pinching himself right now because seriously, this is his room?! It's like a fucking palace compared to the shithole barracks the New Republic had him staying in! (Mind, he had his own room there, but compared to this room, it was just a metal closet. Better than staying out with those idiots, though. God, he was going to go fucking crazy...) He sets his two duffel bags down, glad to be free of that weight, but he makes himself turn right around. As much as he wants to take advantage of a hot shower and ridiculously fluffy towels, there's way too much he needs to find out about this place.]
[So, he heads down to the lobby, communicator in gloved hand, and finds a nice cozy spot to sit down, throw his feet up, and people-watch while he checks the communicator out. It doesn't take long for him to figure it out. A video will pop up showing a man in full gray and orange body armor. He sounds kind, friendly, his merc with a heart of gold persona firmly in place.]
Gotta say, the representative? So didn't lie about this place. I haven't been anywhere this nice in years. And that Jeffers! [He looks up as a robot drone passes by.] Never might a more helpful robot. [Says the man who had to argue with the AI's robot drones not to take his luggage. The drones didn't need to feel how heavy they are.]
But...where to begin now that I'm here? I've got a few ideas: maybe play the tourist for a bit and check the resort out, maybe head into town for lunch or dinner. [He also has to put out some feelers. He wants to start getting his hands on this ancient tech as soon as possible.] Anyone want to play guide to a poor, jobless merc?
I would be happy to show you around this fine town of ours. [And get a bead on the newcomer. But all Niles Pottinger shows is a friendly smile.]
But you don't exactly look dressed for dinner. Go into Xyma's like that and you might unnerve the restaurant patrons. [Actually, the patrons are probably all used to seeing stranger things than a man in a battle suit. But Pottinger wants to see what the new guy looks like underneath that armour. Human? Alien?]
[Felix is smiling too. Behind his helmet.] That's a thing? [He shakes his head. Such an old way of thinking, especially when it's just food.] Naturally, I'll have to take my helmet off to eat. It's not like I'm going to use the helmet waste disposal system to eat shit through a straw or something. But this is just armor! [State-of-the-art armor with a few extra perks not found on the original models. But you know. Details.] And besides, it'll give them something to talk about over their dinner. Who am I to deprive someone of a dinner topic?
All right, then. I certainly don't mind being a topic of gossip and speculation if you don't.
[And he'll get to see the man's face, which is all he really cares about. The stranger sounds human, but that doesn't always mean anything. Plenty of aliens can pick up idiomatic language.]
Call me Pottinger. Or Niles depending on how formal or informal you prefer to be. And now that you know my name, would you care to tell me yours? It's a bit inconvenient to just call you "battle armour man."
[Linda is not sure what to make of the sight of a man in full battle armor sitting casually in the lobby. and so, she goes with the first thought that occurs to her:] You know it's relatively safe within the fence, right? [Felix may have learned enough about this place to recognize the uniform she's wearing as that of the security patrol--but even if he hasn't, it's obviously a uniform of some kind]
[Felix doesn't mention the fact that fences aren't impenetrable and can be foiled very easily if one is determined enough. Instead, he nods and continues to sound pleasant and grateful for that needless reminder.] Oh yes, but I'm just...used to it. I came from a world constantly at war, so this armor is my normal attire. Wearing clothes like yours is weird to me. [He makes note of the security patrol uniform. If he joins them, he hopes he can keep his more practical gear. Maybe get a magnet and slap that on his chest when he's on duty.]
But...I appreciate you reassuring me. It's going to take some getting used to here. This is the longest I've gone during the day without hearing a bullet shot in my direction. [Which is almost actually true--but the bullets were from the recruits those morons were training.]
[she frowns at that] You only ever wear armor? [she's not going to ask the questions that come to mind, but that does sound pretty extreme]
[her expression is sympathetic when he explains, though. trying to be reassuring, she says:] It won't be like that here. Most of the trouble we get is from the wildlife, and the fence and our security patrol keep them out of town. There's the quarantine, yeah, but it's nothing like being at war. It's a pretty safe place, like I said.
[There's little denying that oddity has become part and parcel of the Brigadier's life of late. It comes with the job, really. That or it has a distressing habit of following the Doctor around, and he's not sure which is the worse irritation.
On the bright side, this latest set of unusual creatures are at least susceptible to bullets. On the rather less so is the fact that he rather can't keep up a steady rate of fire forever; there's ammo to be considered and he hadn't really expected to find himself more or less besieged and without any of the backup he'd usually be used to. And that, in turn, means that it's probably about time to see if there's any other options; once he's found a suitably defensible position he sets about managing at least some sort of broadcast.]
There wouldn't be a... less potentially explosive way of dealing with some of the native wildlife, would there?
[Back in Blackway, Narvin is trying to adjust the teleporter to get a lock on Lethbridge-Stewart ever since they lost him. When the broadcast from him comes, it's a relief. At least they didn't lose the lock because of a sudden cessation of life signs.
He pauses in his work and quickly turns on the microphone on his network device, then speaks with his arms elbow-deep in teleport electronic innards.]
I would suggest a vaporization pistol. That or run very fast. How long can you hold out against them?
[He might not have a vaporization gun, but damned if he's going to let some extra-terrestrial menace get the better of him. He's found his ground; he can and will hold it by any means possible.
The sharp crack of a pistol report follows not long after his words, offering some amount of credence to them. It might be no vaporization gun, but it'll do well enough.]
But I'd as sooner not spend the whole night out here, if it's all the same.
Yes, the [one can almost hear a sigh in his voice along with the next words] 'hissy explode-y things.'
[On the other hand, advice is still advice, even if he's not exactly planning to turn tail and run just yet. It's not good for morale, even if none of his men are here as best he can tell.]
You wouldn't happen to know of any other options, would you?
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guest_list2015-01-26 02:57 pm
Dorian Pavus | Dragon Age: Inquisition
[ It's a good thing Dorian is just so charming. Finding someone willing to foot the bill shouldn't be too hard. All it should take is flirtatious a smile and a wave and good laugh or two. He doesn't even have to be disingenuous about it-- Dorian would have probably flirted with you regardless.
So yes, whether you are at the bar or walking in or wherever your character wants to be, rest assured, eye contact is being made and Dorian is smiling right at you, his head tilted ever so slightly. Do come join him, new friend. ]
2. [ Normally this would the point where the Inquisitor would have made camp. Truthfully, Dorian managed to avoid traveling at night when he was on his own. Caravans and traders made for much better company than tents and wildlife.
If one could even call these creature wildlife. If he could use all of his magic, he'd be fine-- oh, it wouldn't even be a problem. But well, that's not the case. And if it's a choice between making a fool of himself and being at least mostly exploded by bizarre green monsters, he'll go with the former. So time to broadcast his whereabouts and pray for a rescue. ]
So... I seem to be caught in a bit of a bind, as it were. Would any of you kinder souls out there be willing help me find my way back to the inn? With minimal damage to my person, if possible. I'd be so grateful.
1
She finally returns his eye contact.
And she stares.
And then she finally starts to smile back, a little unsure, a lot shy, and incredibly sheepish.]
Um... I dunno. [Smooth. She blinks owlishly.] Why, did you?
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Honestly, I didn't know I had another wallet until mine grew legs and ran off.
[ He doesn't miss a beat though, in fact it's almost funny, for all its inconvenience. Here's a guy who just oozes self-
absorption-esteem, even after finding himself at the bar without a dime. ]That sort of thing happen often?
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Oh. It happens every now and then, yeah. [Elle shifts in her seat in order to face him properly. If they're gonna be talking, she may as well.] There are these things... Little animals, I think? They're called props 'cause they can turn themselves into stuff. You should probably report it to somebody. They're an invasive species, so...
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[ He looks down at his glass of wine before picking it up and examining it thoroughly. No legs on this one, thankfully. Dorian seems at least pleased by that. ]
So, soon the rest of the guests might gain ambulant wallets as well? Sounds like they're quite the nuisance, these props. Fascinating.
[ Terrible and annoying, but that too. ]
They wouldn't happen to eat wallets, would they?
2 So late! Just ignore if you're not still interested
Describe where you are, and I'll come out there to meet you. Until then, stay away from the creepers as best you can.
Philip J. Fry | Futurama
[Jokes on you, prop, because Fry didn't have any money in the first place!] Can't I just pretend like I'm gonna help out in the kitchen and then bail in twenty minutes or something? [Apparently not. Aw crud.
Maybe he's got some change in his pockets? Hey, yeah, that sounds like a good plan!]
You take quarters? [Not that he has many of them, either. Or that he can count them particularly quickly. Somebody help bail this poor sucker out?]
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[And Bertie takes out a very full wallet and tosses a few high numerical bills at the publican. He doesn't know the extent of the poor fellow's tab, but reckons that that should cover it. Bertie doesn't think about money very much in general, being of the sort who always has enough that thinking about the value of money isn't required.]
i am so sorry bertie
[...No, his reply doesn't quite make sense. Thanks for noticing. In fact, he's got some suspicious eyes going on until the wallet comes out, and they fade entirely when the cash joins it.]
Wait a second... Five... Ten... Carry the one... Twenty-- Oh, crap, you're loaded!! [Of course, realizing that comes part and parcel to blurting it out. Still, he hasn't seen that much money since.... he doesn't know, forever maybe. Close enough to it. So, yeah, he's looking at it with the gaze of a guy who isn't jealous solely because he can't count how many dollars he doesn't have.]
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I say! That is very strong language. Too strong for the likes of this Wooster. [It's not quite a scold. Bertie doesn't have it in him to scold anyone. But the word "crap" is much harsher than what he's used to hearing.]
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You're not gonna write me up for it or anything, right? I won't do it again, maybe, I mean, if I remember. [fifty-fifty shot right there. But hey, he seems pretty okay for a rich guy with a stick up his ass---
oh, crap, can he think that word here?]
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Felix || Red vs Blue
[It's a good thing Felix is wearing his armor; he would so be pinching himself right now because seriously, this is his room?! It's like a fucking palace compared to the shithole barracks the New Republic had him staying in! (Mind, he had his own room there, but compared to this room, it was just a metal closet. Better than staying out with those idiots, though. God, he was going to go fucking crazy...) He sets his two duffel bags down, glad to be free of that weight, but he makes himself turn right around. As much as he wants to take advantage of a hot shower and ridiculously fluffy towels, there's way too much he needs to find out about this place.]
[So, he heads down to the lobby, communicator in gloved hand, and finds a nice cozy spot to sit down, throw his feet up, and people-watch while he checks the communicator out. It doesn't take long for him to figure it out. A video will pop up showing a man in full gray and orange body armor. He sounds kind, friendly, his merc with a heart of gold persona firmly in place.]
Gotta say, the representative? So didn't lie about this place. I haven't been anywhere this nice in years. And that Jeffers! [He looks up as a robot drone passes by.] Never might a more helpful robot. [Says the man who had to argue with the AI's robot drones not to take his luggage. The drones didn't need to feel how heavy they are.]
But...where to begin now that I'm here? I've got a few ideas: maybe play the tourist for a bit and check the resort out, maybe head into town for lunch or dinner. [He also has to put out some feelers. He wants to start getting his hands on this ancient tech as soon as possible.] Anyone want to play guide to a poor, jobless merc?
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But you don't exactly look dressed for dinner. Go into Xyma's like that and you might unnerve the restaurant patrons. [Actually, the patrons are probably all used to seeing stranger things than a man in a battle suit. But Pottinger wants to see what the new guy looks like underneath that armour. Human? Alien?]
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So. What should I call you?
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[And he'll get to see the man's face, which is all he really cares about. The stranger sounds human, but that doesn't always mean anything. Plenty of aliens can pick up idiomatic language.]
Call me Pottinger. Or Niles depending on how formal or informal you prefer to be. And now that you know my name, would you care to tell me yours? It's a bit inconvenient to just call you "battle armour man."
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But...I appreciate you reassuring me. It's going to take some getting used to here. This is the longest I've gone during the day without hearing a bullet shot in my direction. [Which is almost actually true--but the bullets were from the recruits those morons were training.]
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[her expression is sympathetic when he explains, though. trying to be reassuring, she says:] It won't be like that here. Most of the trouble we get is from the wildlife, and the fence and our security patrol keep them out of town. There's the quarantine, yeah, but it's nothing like being at war. It's a pretty safe place, like I said.
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Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart | Doctor Who
[There's little denying that oddity has become part and parcel of the Brigadier's life of late. It comes with the job, really. That or it has a distressing habit of following the Doctor around, and he's not sure which is the worse irritation.
On the bright side, this latest set of unusual creatures are at least susceptible to bullets. On the rather less so is the fact that he rather can't keep up a steady rate of fire forever; there's ammo to be considered and he hadn't really expected to find himself more or less besieged and without any of the backup he'd usually be used to. And that, in turn, means that it's probably about time to see if there's any other options; once he's found a suitably defensible position he sets about managing at least some sort of broadcast.]
There wouldn't be a... less potentially explosive way of dealing with some of the native wildlife, would there?
Eeeeeee!!!!
He pauses in his work and quickly turns on the microphone on his network device, then speaks with his arms elbow-deep in teleport electronic innards.]
I would suggest a vaporization pistol. That or run very fast. How long can you hold out against them?
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[He might not have a vaporization gun, but damned if he's going to let some extra-terrestrial menace get the better of him. He's found his ground; he can and will hold it by any means possible.
The sharp crack of a pistol report follows not long after his words, offering some amount of credence to them. It might be no vaporization gun, but it'll do well enough.]
But I'd as sooner not spend the whole night out here, if it's all the same.
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[There's an electric sizzle on the other end of the audio line and Narvin yelps and swears under his breath in Gallifreyan.]
Make that five microspans.
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omg
[Yeah, no fancy set up here, just an idiot chiming in.]
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[On the other hand, advice is still advice, even if he's not exactly planning to turn tail and run just yet. It's not good for morale, even if none of his men are here as best he can tell.]
You wouldn't happen to know of any other options, would you?
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