113 replies to this topic

[xX PUG Xx]

Mac was impressed with the speed the young Clansman moved, the flurry of punches would have knocked many a man on his back, the fact that Bill Chambers seemed to roll with every blow impressed him even more. Then as quickly as it had begun, it was over: Bill and the Clanner exchanged nods and then he was gone, headed out of the doors onto the patio.

Bill reached out a hand to Macs shoulder and he felt the man lean some of his weight onto him "Tell me when he's out of the door", instinctively the question escaped his lips but he knew the answer as soon as he asked it "Why..." He barely had time to registered the words "catch me" before the man's legs folded and Mac shifted to soften his fall, his thick muscled legs catching the table and knocking over the empty glasses there. Shaking his head and sending his thick red hair across his face, Mac laughed softly as he checked his pulse and felt it pulsing strongly "That laddie cannae half pack a wallop right enough" he thought to himself, then dragged Bill to a chair and made sure he was supported.

Looking around he was amused to see the barmaid reappear with another round of drinks, a bag of ice and towel. With a wink and a smile she deposited the trays contents on the table next to Mac and turned away with a swish of her hips. Mac called after her with a laugh "Are ye married lass? 'cause I think am in love".

​I wonder whit they two lads are talkin' about on the patio then, it'd be interestin' tae get the clanners perspective on the invasion"

Edited by xX PUG Xx, 09 April 2015 - 02:15 PM.

[Bill Bullet]

Consciousness returned and brought an express delivery of pain. Bill groaned and opened his eyes thanking whatever gods who were listening that dim lighting was the universal norm for dive bars. "Sell my soul for some...ice!" seeing the bag and towel on the table, Bill reached for it happily. After wrapping the bag in the towel he pressed it to the side of his head. Spotting the round of drinks sitting there as well, Bill grabbed the closest one and drained it. "Mmmm to you oh lord I commend my spirits." he said happily. "I prefer C-bills to souls hon." said the waitress as she walked by with a tray of drinks for another table. Adopting the voice of a romantic hero from a cheesy holo-vid, Bill called after her "Oh darling, run away with me to stars! We'll make beautiful music together!" she laughed and rolled her eyes which made Bill laugh and he was suddenly reminded that laughing hurts when your jaw has been used as a punching bag, which made the nearby tables laugh as well.

"Ugh verdammt, the kid hits like Atlas. First my shoulder, now my head. Sawbones is gonna be pissed at me. I've pulled that stunt a hundred times with a hundred drunks and I've never been whalloped that hard. Maybe I should introduce him to that niete Colonel they gave my unit to..." chuckling through the pain as he pictured the buffoon's face, Bill turned to Mack seated across from him. "I tell you Mack, the day the LCAF stops giving field commands to pampered morons who bought their commissions rather than earned them will be the day the Archon sits on the Star League throne." Placing a hefty tip on the table Bill stood, gingerly testing his balance. Walking towards the balcony that overlooked the first floor of the bar, Bill was satisfied his legs wouldn't crumple underneath him when he went outside. Leaning against the railing, he saw a dangerous looking blonde woman at the bar talking to another fellow, her face sparking a faint memory. Where have I seen her before? Shaking his head and then immediately regretting it, Bill motioned for Mack to come over.

"I'll give it to you straight Mack, this Clanner business is all new to me." Nodding towards the patio doors where Nicholas and Marc had left, Bill continued. "When we go out there I'm gonna pick that kid's brain of every piece of intel I can get, but for all intents and purposes me and my people are going up against these guys blind. I've fought the Free Worlders, the FRR, the Dracs, and hell even some CapCons! ...But this bunch..." Bill sighed in frustration. He had seen Mack's reaction when Nicholas had first shouted and the reaction was one of recognition. "Tell me what you know about fighting them. A long time ago I heard a saying; "Information is ammunition." And Mack, I get the feeling we're gonna need all the ammo we can get."

Edited by Bill Bullet, 14 April 2015 - 02:15 PM.

[xX PUG Xx]

(Sorry this was a bit rushed, still hectic in the RL and spending what little time I have relaxing on the virtual battlefield)

Mack watched as Bill stood and shakily walked to the railing, motioning for him to follow. As he walked toward Bill he noticed a slight tilt to his head as though he had spotted something. Taking a look over the railing to the lower bar Mack spotted the blonde woman, "she's aw'ready got company laddy but yer tastes good". Just as was about to turn away the woman looked up at the two of them and recognition sparked in Mack "Aw hell naw, whits she dae'in here? That means the Rangers are oan planet tae, a wonder if thats Ace sitting wie her? This should be interestin', a wonder if she'll remember auld Mack?".

"I'll give it to you straight Mack, this Clanner business is new to me.......tell me what you know about fighting them". Bills voice brought Mack back to the here and now, he turned his back to the railing and gently tested its strength against his bulk; it creaked slightly but seemed capable of supporting him. "Whit dae I know about fighting them? I know they wiped oot aw but a handful o' the 2nd Regiment of the Grave Walkers on Apollo, it took less than a month an' we never stood a chance" Mack tilted his head back and closed his eyes, the railing giving a groan of protest but Mack didn't notice it; all he could see and hear were monstrous shapes shifting through smoke, back lit by man made lightning of PPC fire and the staccato strobe effect of pulse lasers.

"The 1st Regiment on Bone-Norman had got word oot tae us that we were'nae facin' normal raiders, so we were ready for 'em. Or so we thought, the Clan tech' is far beyond whit we hae; accurate oot tae o'er a three times oor range wie their energy weapons and able tae hit harder for it. The 'Mechs, OmniMechs they call 'em, don't run a particular configuration; they seem tae be able tae change oot the loadoot depending on the pilot or the situation. In the first engagement we lost a full Lance o' Mediums before they e'en got a shot off, the Major began pullin' us back tae the fort, lookin' tae use the fortifications tae gie us an advantage but it didnae quite work oot..." pausing for a second, Mack took a pull from his whiskey, a slight tremble to his hand as he raised the glass. He had never told anyone what happened on Apollo but felt that he should explain to the man he was about to take employment with. "Honest tae a fault as yer maw said Mack?"

"The fort wis an old Star League base and it turns oot the wee Falcon beasties had the plans for it, they sent in their Elementals; armoured infantrymen as big as yie've ever seen, they make me look small." Mack said with an apologetic look and slight smile "They caught oor guards cold an' started in oan the infantry and demounted 'Mech pilots, a wis lucky tae be oan the wall wie ma Griffin. If ye can call watchin' yer men bein' cut tae shreds by laser and SRM fire and only bein' able tae pick off the Elementals one at a time lucky." The memory of the screams picked up by his 'Mechs external microphones pressed in on Mack, he had watched helpless as one Elemental had waded through a group of six infantrymen firing their Blazer rifles into it with little to no effect. Eventually he had turned the pick ups off and set about grabbing the few Elementals that came close enough and either crushing them in the Griffins armoured fists or simply throwing them against or over the Forts walls. His 'Mech lacked close range precision weaponry, the extended range PPC would vaporise as many friendly forces as enemy and the short range missiles would devastate the interior of the base.

Eventually the Elementals had been destroyed or had simply pulled back and Mack had relaxed for only a few seconds when the first missile had struck the main entrance to the Fort. The huge armoured doors had been damaged and opened slightly by a squad of Elementals and the rain of explosions ripped one from its hinges. Then had come the message over a private channel, the Major wanted Mack to lead a Lance to an emergency evac site and provide escort to a VIP, all other forces were converging on the main gate and would hold as long as possible.

Mack did what any soldier would do and followed his orders but the shame of leaving that fight behind, leaving his comrades behind burned a slow, white hot hole in his soul. One that would only be extinguished by facing the Clans and slaying his demons. "If I can dae anythin' tae fight back against them I'll dae it, once Cullodens up an' running ye've got yersel' a Lance mate" standing tall Mack turned to face Bill Chambers "and ye can guarantee a'll NEVER run frae the wee beasties e'en if ye tell me to. They've got a bill tae pay an' I reckon on collectin!'"

Edited by xX PUG Xx, 15 April 2015 - 06:09 AM.

[WustenFuchs1991]

(Since the question regarding Natasha Kerensky being a clanner was not even rumour before the Wolf's Dragoons revealed themselves then it is safe to assume that Ulric has become IlKhan and Natasha has been made Khan. Making this take place sometime in 3051. RIP Leo Showers you manipulative pr*ck.)


Listening to the man drawl on, Nicholas realized that he had no clue who or what the Clans where. The way that he spoke and the context of his speech spoke volumes to his ignorance. It made the clanner consider his role in the Inner Sphere. Nicholas was a stoic Warden and believed that the IS needed to be protected not conquered. He was only here because he felt the need to prove a point regarding the worth of freebirths like himself and because his Khan and IlKhan had made it clear that if they would be forced to fight then they would win.

To be fair though was it the IS' fault if they didn't know anything about a society they didn't even know existed for hundreds of years? One could hardly find fault there. To take this line of logic further who could blame them if they had different values then the Clans? Posing the question to himself, Nicholas had an epiphany. This was not a war they had the right to bring with them. Conquest or protection where just a guise for what was really happening here. It was extermination. A Trial of Annihilation on an entirely massive scale. The complete destruction of the societies that exist within the Inner Sphere. Perhaps though, this was being thought out too much. Being a simple warrior, Nicholas did not know the machinations of the Grand Council.

Filing away these thoughts for later, the young warrior looked down in time to catch the mans question.

"Well, what about you, Mr. Wolf? Got any war stories? Say, is it true what I heard that Ole' Natasha K is ah, well, you know... a clanner?"

"You are referring to Natasha Kerensky, formerly of the Wolf's Dragoons, quiaff? If so, then yes, she is not only of Clan Wolf but she is now the Khan of the clan. Regarding war stories, I am not certain what you want to hear, but I have been involved in fighting on Oberon VI, Leoben, Hohenems, and Radstadt. On all these worlds my unit, the 11th Wolf Guards of Delta Galaxy, earned victory after victory regardless of opposition. I would think that you would find stories about the destruction of your own people to be distasteful. That said, if you are still interested then I will keep my end the bargain and explain how I came to be here once your friend wakes up."

[Thom Frankfurt]

[I tip my hat to your knowledge of BT lore, SourKraut. Since there isn't an official start date/timeline for this RP or even a planet name, it offers us a certain degree of flexibility to ah, 'wing it.' Also, Marc/Miguel is originally from the FWL (yes, I'm looking at you Bill) and has been on the run hiding out in some of the less civilized systems since late '49 and been listening to mostly rumor concerning the Clans. He's just looking for confirmation on one of the more unsettling rumors.]

During Marc's recital of his adventure of the barren Periphery world, Astrokaszy, it became apparent to the former Leaguer that the youth's stony visage was slowly eroding away to a strange mixture of contemplation, thoughtfulness, and ultimately pity. Marc wish he could crack open the Clanner's skull to see what was racing through the young Wolf's mind. His question about Natasha K. seemed to snap the youth out of his reflections.

"You are referring to Natasha Kerensky, formerly of the Wolf's Dragoons, quiaff?

Ah, what? Quiff? Marc wondered what type of insult the Clanner was pitching his way for a second before returning to the man's words.

"If so, then yes, she is not only of Clan Wolf but she is now the Khan of the clan. Regarding war stories, I am not certain what you want to hear, but I have been involved in fighting on Oberon VI, Leoben, Hohenems, and Radstadt. On all these worlds my unit, the 11th Wolf Guards of Delta Galaxy, earned victory after victory regardless of opposition. I would think that you would find stories about the destruction of your own people to be distasteful. That said, if you are still interested then I will keep my end the bargain and explain how I came to be here once your friend wakes up."

So many questions began to race through the bandit's mind as the youth offered his simple story.

Khan? Must be some odd title for General. Galaxy? they must structure their military differently, makes sense considering they reinforce all their lances with an extra mech. Must dig for more.

"Well that's a pitty," Marc offered noticing the flinch again. "I grew up idolizing Natasha, err, your Khan. Big red hair, that black corset she wore and that femme fatale attitude of hers, well sh*t I became a mechwarrior hoping to meet more women like her." Marc gave the Clanner a sly smile before continuing on.

"And that thing about hearing tales of my own people gunned down by your people, my family is from the League, I've got no emotional state invested in the Lyran Commonwealth, Combine or this new Rasalhague state. I'll worry about them once you children of Kerensky grind your way through all those divisions of assault mechs the Lyran's have."

That time Marc smirked at the Clanners flinch. I'm not sure what it is, contractions or familial references, but one or the either makes this guy uncomfortable.

Marc quickly glanced to the side and noticed the silhouettes of two people, roughly the same size as Mack and Bill slowly making their way to the veranda, he only had a few seconds more alone with the strange deadly youth before they were there.

"Listen, I just met those two, and I've already shared more words with you, buddy. And until that Lyran takes a bullet for me, he's just another Lyran Banker putting his name on my pay check." He glanced back to check the other two's progress before looking back to the youth, "And just between the two of us, if what you said earlier about bringing peace and safety from the House lords and their eternal struggles and lame attempts to oust each other, you and your people have my blessing."

Though I think it's all for naught.

Marc winked at the youth and turned in time to watch the door open discharging an ever-brooding Mack and slightly more stable looking Bill stroll out onto the veranda.

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 22 April 2015 - 01:49 AM.

[plodder]

The meeting at the water front went well. Bert was full of surprises,Mr. Factor was flummoxed and amazed.
Rizz is drinking the good scotch, alternating between furrowed brow and a face splitting grin. Shakes his head, takes a sip, looks around, then sighs.
The barkeep has been eyeballing him, himself shaking his head at the strange patron, drinking his almost finest scotch.
Mr. Rizz Factor has no idea the man is thinking about his odd behavior, but is curious to know.

[Bill Bullet]

Walking out into the early evening air was heaven sent to Bill's throbbing head. Inhaling deeply he took a moment to appreciate being alive. It was something his father back home had instilled into him. "William my son, you are MechWarrior. Your business is death. People will cover it in tales of glory and honor, gild it with oaths of loyalty and claim it is all for the greater good. But when all is said and done, you are bringer of death and destruction. Never forget that. But also never forget that every moment, every instant you are alive...is something to cherish." Bill could still remember the almost feral grin that crossed the old Baron's face. "So don't you dare die for any flag or any ruler...make the sorry sonuvagun in your crosshairs die for his!" Bill knew he had a lot to live up to and a pretty large shadow to climb out from under, and in the quieter moments of the night Bill would always worry if he was doing enough to prove himself. "And having that prancing, preening, little ponce in charge of my unit isn't helping matters." he grumbled to himself.

Walking up to Marc and Nicholas he clapped them each on the shoulder and put on his best "man of the people" grin. "Alright gentlemen, since we're all friends now what with the drinking together and bleeding together...or at least my bleeding in front of you while master Nicholas did his very best to flatten my handsome skull, I think we need a little more of the drinking and (for my sake) a lot less of the bleeding!" Raising his beer stein up for a toast and speaking solemnly Bill said "May our aim be true, our enemies' falter, our friends brave, our enemies craven, our women sweet, and our enemies ugly." laughing with excitement, Bill drained his stein and looked them all in the eyes. "Gentlemen, what do you say we get into a little bit of trouble?"

Edited by Bill Bullet, 06 May 2015 - 02:09 PM.

[WustenFuchs1991]

Looking own at the smaller man, Nicholas could not help but allow a slight grin to play across his face. "You seem the have recovered rather quickly. On the note of causing trouble, I could do with some enjoyment and I believe I may have the perfect idea. I may happen to know of a few sim pods that are left, shall we say, unattended in the evening. They are close by so it would only take a few minutes to reach them. Oh, and did I mention that these pods have data on many of our Omnimechs?"

[xX PUG Xx]

Mack watched as Bill passed through the patio doors, the shadow of his outline approaching Marc and the Clansman, he shook his head slightly and turned to look out over the lower bar. The gloomy light level and the constant thrum of conversation played tricks with Macks mind, the warm embrace of the whiskey he had consumed helping to magnify the effects. For the briefest moment the shadow of a large figure passed across the back wall, morphing from that of a man to the outline of something far more sinister. As the shadow raised a hand in salute or greeting to someone below, it changed to the outline of a claw; snapping open and shut fiercely, Mack started and focussed down into the crowded bar half expecting to see a Clan Elemental tearing through the slowly growing crowd.

Shaking his head once to clear the image from his mind, Mack chided himself for allowing the ghosts of Apollo to chase him this far ‘Yer getting’ skittish in yer auld age Mack, ye survived Apollo and ye’ll survive tae fight the wee beasties again. This time ye’ll no be caught unawares!’

As he started to turn for the patio area, a sudden increase in noise from below caught his attention, looking down once more he quickly found the source; a group of ten or so locals, all in military uniform, had surrounded the blonde woman and her compatriot. Fingers were being pointed and the air was most definitely not friendly ‘Whit is it wie that lassie? She’ll find a whiskey in a bleedin’ monastery and then goad the priest intae a fight afterward!’

Turning his head toward the patio doors but keeping his eyes on the crowd below, Mack used his best Master Sergeants voice to shout “Bill, Marc!! Looks like wae’ve goat a bit o’ trouble brewin’! Ye might want tae bring the Wolf wie ye!” Mack noticed the slight tilt of the woman’s head and the short sharp nod as she obviously heard his shout ‘Aye Faith, wae’ll be doon the noo!’ again shaking his head but this time with a devilish grin on his face ‘Bloody woman'll get me killed….eventually!’

Edited by xX PUG Xx, 06 May 2015 - 11:31 PM.

[Faith McCarron]

The Watering Hole
Free Rasalhague Republic
8 May, 3050


Faith raised the bottle of synthetic swill to her lips and took a sip. A sip was about all one could manage of this particular concoction. The taste was absolutely abysmal, but apparently that was part of the allure of the stuff. Well, it didn't matter, she didn't plan on drinking the stuff for very long. For now, the foul taste matched her post-Tukayyid mood. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned her head slightly. She figured it wouldn't be long before Ace tracked her down, there weren't exactly man places to escape on this backwater.

"You know, the Doc would be having a fit if she knew you were out drinking." Even with the battle concluded, Ace still wore the scruffy stubble of the battlefield, as well as a heavy look in his eyes that came from trying to orchestrate the unit over the recently concluded week long battle.

"Like I care what she thinks right now. Or you for that matter." She closed her eyes for a moment and paused, letting out a soft sigh. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I'm just on edge at the moment. I don't like losing, ever. But I'm also not exactly feeling great right now. The painkillers are starting to wear off, so my fuse is a little short." She mustered up a half-hearted smile. "But relax, this piss-water is non-alcoholic."

Her ribs were still sore, and there was a dull headache that she couldn't seem to get rid of these last few days. She didn't know if it was a side effect of the concussion, or withdrawl from the painkillers, or both. All she knew was it put her in a foul mood, to say the least. Combined with the other news that had been weighing heavily on her mind, and she doubted she was going to be very good company. She wasn't exactly thrilled that Ace had tracked her down either. He and Cat were the only two that knew what she was dealing with at the moment, and part of her wanted to escape that, at least until things sorted themselves out and she knew more. But that could be weeks, she had been told. For now, all she could do was try to drown it out with the rancid taste of this local non-alcholic brew.

"Right then. I'l leave you to it." Ace started to leave, but she grabbed his arm and pulled him back to the bar.

"No no, it's ok. Besides, if I have to suffer this Star League era sewer water-in-a-bottle, so do you. Besides, I'm pretty sure that right now you and I are the only non-Space-Vikings in the bar." She wasn't sure why she had chosen the first floor bar, when the upstairs was no doubt filled with plenty of mercs from across the Inner Sphere, especially with the battle just recently over.

They talked for nearly half an hour. She was about to suggest that they get going, when a loud, bellowing voice from next to her caught her attention. The big, scruffy man had a tankard of something in his hand that was about as large as Faith's head. His voice was deep and scratchy, matching the his physical appearance. "We would have turned those vat-born scum back if we had not had to carry those weaklings from the southern houses."

She hadn't heard anything from him earlier, as he had been talking in Swedenese earlier, but he had switched, no doubt deliberately, to heavily accented English.

"And how many clanners did you kill?" She didn't turn to face him, but spoke loud enough that he knew she meant for him to hear.

"What did you say?" He now faced her, rising to his full height and puffing his chest out to try to make himself as intimidating as possible.

"You heard me, Beowulf or Bjorn or whatever your name is. I've killed more clanners by accident than you have, so why don't you give it a rest." She still did not look him in the eye, pretending to dismiss him as unimportant.

He kicked the barstool angrily away. "I do not need to hear anything more from you, little Liao wench. You are not welcome here!" As the large man spoke, Ace had stood up and done his best to interpose himself between the two arguing mechwarriors. By now, a small crowd was gathering around them. She casually glanced up to the second floor, where a few of the regulars from upstairs had started to observe the growing commotion. By now, Ace was trying his best to diffuse the situation, but Faith knew it was futile. These FRR types were spoiling for a fight, and she meant to give it to them.

"No one is here for a fight. We've all had enough of that lately" the XO said. But the hulking Rasalhaguian was having none of it.

"You Capellans would know nothing of fighting. Cappies and Mercs both, you are. Get out of here and go back where you belong, and take your little ***** here with you." As if to emphasize his point, he splashed the half empty tankard of ale all over Faith. That was the opening salvo. Worn out or not, sore or not, tired or not, she wasn't going to leave this place without causing some chaos now.

She swung the nearly emopty bottle in her hand at the man, catching him squarely in the side of the head. With that, the room erupted into chaos...

[Bill Bullet]

"Bill, Marc!! Looks like wae’ve goat a bit o’ trouble brewin’! Ye might want tae bring the Wolf wie ye!" Mack's Scottish burr cut through Bill's good mood like a knife through rice paper. Walking back to the balcony overlooking the first floor, he saw the blonde MechWarrior from earlier swing an empty bottle right into the head of an angry looking Rasalhague trooper. Immediately the downstairs exploded into chaos as she and her friend were set upon by the downed trooper's friends. "Friend of yours?" Bill asked, cocking his head at the melee below. "Her name's Faith McCarron." Mack said. "I knew I'd seen her before somewhere." Bill said, ducking out of the way as a thrown bottle zipped past his head. "She's that hotshot CapCon Solaris jock that's been tearing up the Medium Circuit."

Bill's father, a veteran of the 4th Succession War that carved a bloody swath out of the Liao holdings, had an intense hatred of anything and everything Capellan but Bill had only ever been in light skirmishes with them during his early days as a MechWarrior in the FedCom military before he mustered out to serve in his father's household regiment. "Kinda difficult to hate a country that was able to survive Hanse Davion's rough handling." Bill mused as he watched Faith expertly kick an opponent across the room. Looking down into the press of thrashing combatants Bill weighed his options. On the one hand Mack looked ready to vault over the railing into the fray and Bill knew that ordering Mack to stand down would probably end poorly. On the other hand, Bill knew it was never a good idea to piss off the locals especially when said locals outnumbered you about 10-to-1.

Then Bill saw the face of one of the Rasalhague troopers and recognized him as the Quartermaster Sergeant that had been giving him the run around for the past week rather than find a replacement hip actuator for Bill's beloved Hunchback Matilda. Rubbing his hands together like a starving man presented with a feast, Bill chuckled evilly. "Mack, I do believe we are honor bound to save our fellow foreigners from the clutches of the locals. Especially when they are so shamefully outnumbered." Looking over his shoulder as he ran towards the stairs leading downward, Bill called out to Marc and Nicholas "Gentlemen, Mack and I are off to play with the natives! Care to join us?" without waiting for a reply, Bill sprinted down the stairs shouting "The fat one with the muttonchops is mine! Muahahaha!" and flung himself into the fray.

Edited by Bill Bullet, 07 May 2015 - 02:31 PM.

[Ace Kaller]

(( One hour earlier))
Ace Kaller kept his eyes closed and his breathing steady as the young woman lying next to him ran her hand gently over his chest. Every so often, he caught a hint of the rather musty room through the covering scent of the woman's perfume. It was an odd dichotomy. The room was cheap, the woman wasn't. This was a Rasalhague supply base, as well as a staging area for plenty of mercs, so cheap hookers were everywhere, but he had taken the time to be a little more selective. In his experience, you always thanked yourself later for a little patience beforehand. The motel, on the other hand, was a dive. He wasn't there for the decor, and he had never met a working girl that complained about the accomodations. “Isn't your time almost up?” He asked. She nestled her body a little closer to his. “Booking is slow right about now. Lot's of the mercs high-tailed it out of here as soon as Tukayyid was over. Spending their money on repairs. I've got time, nowhere to be.” He almost thought her Rasalhague accent thickened as she spoke about mercenaries. They were not well loved around these parts. Of course, the 4^th Tau Ceti Rangers were mercenaries themselves technically, although they were as close to house regulars as a merc outfit could get.

Suddenly, there was a loud pounding at the door and a female voice on the other side. “I know you are in there, hurry it up, I need to talk to you.” He recognized the voice as that of one of Faith's Solaris friends, a woman named Cat who had been spending a lot of time around the unit in the time surrounding Tukayyid. She had seemed friendly enough, and trustworthy, but he didn't like not knowing much of anything about her. Faith trusted her, but for him, it was still an uneasy friendship. His female companion gave him a quizzical look, with a raised eyebrow. “Sorry, must be unit business.” He explained. She laughed softly, “It's ok. That's my queue. It's been fun, Ace.”

She hurriedly slipped out of the bed and dressed herself, being sure to pick up the C-bills sitting on the rather cheap looking nightstand. She quickly made her way to the door and quietly slipped out, and as she did, Cat let herself in. Ace had only managed to get his pants on so far, and ran his hands quickly through his desheveled hair in an attempt to make it a little less chaotic. Cat was dressed in what seemed to be her usual garb, which consisted of more leather than a Canopian dominatrix, yet somehow it wasn't gaudy, but instead gave off an almost militaristic air to it. She always looked as if she could be about 2 seconds from pouncing into battle, making him wonder sometimes if Cat was even her real name at all. “Apologies for interrupting your little romp, but I thought I should let you know, Faith left the dropship and headed into the town here.”

Damn that woman and her stubborness. “The Doc hasn't even cleared her for duty yet. What the hell is she doing out on the town?” He said as he scrambled to get fully dressed. “Any idea where she went?” He asked. Cat shook her head, “Not for certain, no. Although if I know her, she will be heading to a bar, and there really is only one decent establishment in town from what the guides all say. It is only a few blocks from here.” Ace nodded, “Yeah The Watering Can or something like that. I'm not sure which I'm more worried about, that she'll get smashed or that she'll pull a repeat of that little fracas in Kurita space. Alright, let's go drag her ass out of there.” Cat chuckled, “I assumed that would be your plan, and I figured you could use the backup.” As they left, Ace locked the door behind him. “Good thing this dive is cheap, barely used the room for half the night.”

The streets were cold and damp. It wasn't raining, but moisture hung in the air. Most reputable restaurants and stores were closing up, but plenty of small bars a dens of god-knows-what still were open for business. “I still do not get the fascination this unit's officer corps seems to have with prostitutes. If you will pardon the observation.” He smirked in response to her statement. “Little late for that now. But if you'll forgive an equally touchy observation, I'm not surprised you don't understand. You're a woman, you can get it any time.” He chuckled slightly. She pressed the issue, “Oh come now. You are an officer, and there are plenty of women in your unit, especially if you count the support branches, technical staff and so on.” He shook his head, “Oh no. That's a whole big can of worms right there. Causes way too much trouble than it's worth to go down that path.” Her reply was sarcastic, “You are really going to try to get me to believe that? I already know you are no angel when it comes to that.” He cut her off, “That's different. No, wait, I'm not having this conversation.”

Just then, they arrived at the doors to The Watering Hole, and entered in search of their wayward compatriot.

(ooc: Faith keeps nagging me to join in on some of the fiction, so I finally obliged. Credit goes to her for the Cat dialogue parts)

Edited by Ace Kaller, 08 May 2015 - 05:22 AM.

[Thom Frankfurt]

[Welcome aboard, Ace. Oh and @Bill I hope this wasn't too 'far fetched' and will edit it if you want. Oh and sorry for trashing the place. LOL]

"Bill, Marc!! Looks like wae’ve goat a bit o’ trouble brewin’! Ye might want tae bring the Wolf wie ye!" Mack shouted out suddenly in a voice that'd make any drill sergeant green with envy. Marc couldn't help but think it was funny how the Caldonian/Highlander's accent seemed to drop when the big man shouted. But with all accented silliness aside, the big man had a point, which Marc could see watching a small group of locals slowing inching up on a couple of 'foreign' looking types as he neared the banister overlooking the floor below.

Marc raked his eyes across the assembled patrons below, seeing a full assortment of field uniforms from house units scattered about the whole Inner Sphere. Leaguers mingled nearby off duty Combine soldiers, Lyran bankers lounged nearby a clique of Davies, even token groups of Cappies milled about, and everywhere tall proud looking folk sporting impressive beards which Marc took as a sign of being one of the locals. The place was a powder keg waiting to go off.

An explosion of movement, the accosted woman swung out suddenly a stout bottle of local swill held tightly in her hand. With a sickly thwack the blow landed staggering the big local, who staggered back a few steps but even as he did, his friends surged forward with menace in their eyes. The whole bar seemed to suddenly become a churning cauldron of fist and feet as the various aligned warriors took it upon themselves to reignite hostilities with long time enemies.

"Friend of yours?" Bill asked, cocking his head at the melee below. "Her name's Faith McCarron." Mack said. "I knew I'd seen her before somewhere." Bill said, ducking out of the way as a thrown bottle zipped past his head. "She's that hotshot CapCon Solaris jock that's been tearing up the Medium Circuit." The Lyran paused with the looks of thoughtfulness and mischief plainly warring on his face. "Kinda difficult to hate a country that was able to survive Hanse Davion's rough handling." Bill mused as he watched Faith expertly kick an opponent across the room.

Rubbing his hands together like a starving man presented with a feast, Bill chuckled evilly. "Mack, I do believe we are honor bound to save our fellow foreigners from the clutches of the locals. Especially when they are so shamefully outnumbered." Looking over his shoulder as he ran towards the stairs leading downward, Bill called out to Marc and Nicholas "Gentlemen, Mack and I are off to play with the natives! Care to join us?" without waiting for a reply, Bill sprinted down the stairs shouting "The fat one with the muttonchops is mine! Muahahaha!" and flung himself into the fray.

...Oh Christ. Marc thought while watching Bill and Mack thunder down the stairs crashing into the fray of combatants like some sort of 16th century cavalry charge. Marc winced as the two slowly disappeared into the mass. Marc silently looking over the scene, looking over ways to enter the fight while finishing off the last dredges of his Timbiqui Dark. He winced watching as a Davion smashed a pool cue over a Capellan's back. The man dropped.

Marc then felt his stomach feeling how tight it was, then cursing himself for drinking so much, one good punch or kick to the abdomen and he'd be likely to urinate all over himself... With that thought in mind the same could probably be said for a good portion of the combatants below.

Can't have that now, can we? Marc thought while settling his mug down upon the floor and unzipping, raising in time to see one of the Cappies comrades smash in the face of the offending Davey with an eight ball.

Can't be much longer before people start pulling knives and other pleasantries... Marc thought rolling his eyes.

Relieving himself Marc caught a glimpse of Bill making a beeline to what he dubbed 'the Fat One' Mack hot on his heels as well as the 'oh so friendly bartender' rising from behind the bar with a brass studded club in his fist.

"Hey you, stop that!!" An angry shout nearby snapped Marc out of his concentration as he shook off the last few drops, it was the uprooted mountain of man turned knuckle dragging bouncer. Quickly zipping up, Marc looked over the rail at the fight below not showing any signs of stopping anytime soon and he had to understand the thumb breaker's plight, if given a chice he'd rather thrash some unassuming man than enter that mess downstairs...

"Catch me if you can, Fu*ker!" Marc hooked his foot behind the beer mug turned pisspot and sent it flying at the boucer then turned about and ran, the sounds of clattering glass and sputtered curses behind him, followed by booming wood creaking footsteps.

"Geronimo!!" Marc roared out springing up onto the railing and leaping out catching a handhold upon one of the slowly chopping ceiling fans and dangled there with the dusty fan blade banging into his arm. The Wallacian cackled out a triumphant laugh while looking for some unsuspecting fools to fall on but was interrupted by a lurch and shower of plaster and dust as the fans mounting gave under the mercenaries weight.

"OH SH*T!!" Marc roared as the fan dropped, it's wiring still attached being uprooted from the plaster as the man and fan crashed into the combatants below like a wrecking ball.

Edited by Thom Frankfurt, 08 May 2015 - 10:48 PM.

[WustenFuchs1991]

Nicholas stood still with a completely dumbstruck expression on his face. Two thoughts dominated his brain as he watched Marc fall from the ceiling on top of half a dozen men. First, was that every single person in the Inner Sphere was completely insane. The second was that if they fought like this on the battlefield then the Clans would have had a harder time beating them.

Completely content to stay upstairs and observe the dishonourable mess below him, Nicholas found that the decision was taken from his hands as he watched one of the locals get the drop on the Capellan women who Bill and Mack seemed so intent to help. She had not yet noticed him as he drew a combat knife from his belt and the others were preoccupied with their own opponents.

"Stravag. Nothing for it now."

With that the large clanner hurled himself over the railing and landed next to the knife wielder. Reaching out he seized the mans wrist, applying enough pressure to force the hand open.

"I will not condone such a shameful display surat. If you are so intent to spill blood then I will be your opponent."

The mans head snapped back to see why he was no longer holding a knife only to be met by a sight that fueled his nightmares night after night. The sight of an angry Clan warrior was something to be feared, but for those of the Inner Sphere it went beyond fear. For the most part the sight that this man now face was enough to cause outright terror and it showed.

"C-C-Clanner! Holy s*it, it's a clanner!

Rolling his eyes, Nicholas simply pulled the man closer and slammed his elbow into the bridge of his nose knocking him out cold. Apparently though, the fearful stammering did catch the attention of a few combatants. Three men, two Kuritans and a Leaguer turned to face him. All approached with a glint in their eyes that went beyond a bar brawl. They saw Nicholas as an opponent on the battlefield and intended to fight him as such. Realizing the raw malice that was approaching him, Nicholas decided that he would neutralize this threat as any other credible threat.

Kicking the knife as hard as he could, Nicholas watched as it sailed just above the ground and lodged itself in one of the Kuritan warriors shin. The effect was instant as the man fell screaming, grasping at his leg. This made the other two pause long enough to realize the tactical error they had made as the clanner seized the initiative and charged. The second Kuritan saw it coming and threw himself out of the way as the clanner slammed into the Leaguer like a freight train. Grabbing the man by the throat, Nicholas raised his fist to finish the fight when a pungent odor met his nose. A look of disgust crossed his face as he realized what it was. Snarling much like his Clans namesake, the clanner slammed his fist into the mans face. A sickening crack told the clanner that he had shattered the mans jaw. Moving to stand the warrior was shocked to see a bar stool crash down on his head. Stars exploded in front of him as the blow knocked him back to the ground. Looking up through the haze, Nicholas spotted the knife in the hands of the last combatant. Being in such a daze made self defence practically impossible.

"That must have hurt to pull out of his friends leg." Was the last thought Nicholas feared he would have. That was until the Kuritan was hit over the head by the bartender with what may have been the largest club he had ever seen "No one starts sh*t in my bar. Go help your friends and get them out of here. I doubt the police will be fair to mercs caught after this mess." Hauling himself to his feet, Nicholas moved to the CapCon women and stood next to her waiting for the next fool to try something.

Noticing the sideways glance she gave him that bordered on shock and relief he decided to explain. "I felt you could use some help, quiaff?"

[KuroNyra]

(I think about joining the conversation. But 2 Clanners in a bar in the Inner Sphere? That would not be logical or plausible, quiaff?)

[WustenFuchs1991]

(It really only matters how you approach it. I took the role of a warrior taken as a bondsman on Radstad by a merc unit. Also, since there is no set timeline you could technically make your backstory, such is it may be, based near the end of the invasion. Though I assume that this will be taking place before Tukayyid.)

Also, if I am mistaken then someone please tell me to shut up

Edited by SourKraut91, 09 May 2015 - 03:18 AM.

[Faith McCarron]

(Anyone and everyone is welcome to join in. Think of it more as a way to have fun expressing a character. It doesn't have to be 100% lore correct, lord knows my stuff isn't always. As long as everyone is enjoying themselves, let the good times roll.)

[KuroNyra]

When Kuro arrived in the Bar, he wasn’t very surprised to discover a fight going on. But he wasn’t involved, he worn a military uniform filled with a strange insignia, the Epsilon letter was on it, and there was also a Clan insignia. Clan Wolf insignia.
He looked at the bartender and with a smile asked.
“Can I have a PPC?”
His accent was very unusual, Kuro had Asiatic –even Japanese- look, but his English sounded weird… It sounded French!
The bartender gave him what he asked for, and the man drank it in a single shot.
He then looked at the fight and asked a very tall man -Nicholas-.
“What is happening here? Are these barbarians debating about what is better between an Atlas or a Dire Wolf?”
Dire Wolf, the name could shock some people. In the Inner Sphere: Most people used the Spheroid name to name the dreaded Omnimechs. A Dire Wolf was a Daishi, a Timber Wolf, a Mad Cat and so on.
For Kuro to name it this way prove that he had some knowledge about the Clans… And the Insignia was even more clear about that.



edit: Sorry if my english isn't good like yours... Still learning the language.

Edited by KuroNyra, 09 May 2015 - 07:20 AM.

[Faith McCarron]

No sooner had the bottle broken across the man's face, then the room erupted. Pent up anger and frustration from recent battles, mixed with alcohol, was an explosive combination. She figured it was probably wise to stay near Ace, given her current state, but within seconds, she had lost sight of him in the crowd. There weren't that many people on their "side" of the fight, but it didn't seem to matter at this point, people just wanted to fight.

Except, of course, that every person she bumped into wanted to fight her. It was the price of being the instigator, she supposed. After deftly evading several attackers and funneling them towards other combatants, she delivered a powerful blow squarely between the legs of a man wearing a KungsArme officers jacket. She paused for a moment, quite pleased with herself, just in time for someone behind her to wrap his arms around her, pinning her arms to her side and lifting her feet off the floor. After flailing her feet unsuccessfully, and somewhat comically, another Rasalhagian tried to grab her by the feet. For his efforts, he received her boot to his face, sending him clutching at his nose and stumbling backwards in an almost cartoonish way across the room.

Suddenly, the grip on her let go, as if by magic, and she collapsed unceremoniously onto her back. She felt sparks of pain run through her chest from her still not fully healed rib injury. Staring up at the ceiling confusedly for a second, a figure stepped over her and offered a hand to help her up. It was her friend Cat, who she had not even realized had come into the bar with Ace. She took the woman's hand and the help getting up, grateful for any allies she could count at the moment. Speaking of which, she counted several new allies that she did not recognize, one of which had apparently decided that bringing the fan down on the room was a good idea. She shook her head and laughed to herself.

"I felt you could use some help, quiaff?" One of her new allies was a clanner, it seemed. Well, she thought to herself, what was one more crazy detail on the night.

"Hellz yeah, but it seems like we might have overstayed our welcome. I'm thinking now might be a good time to strategically withdraw from this place, guys."

[KuroNyra]

Kuro was watching the fight and was smiling. It was like good old time, without waiting the answer of the tall man who was probably a "clanner" like him, he joined a Lady.
“Hellz yeah, but it seems like we might have overstayed our welcome. I'm thinking now might be a good time to strategically withdraw from this place, guys.
- Withdraw? How shameful but… Well, theses opponents are not worthy of your time, quiaff?”

Coming right behind the lady, Kuro punched one of the multiple opponents and knocked him back in a single blow. Then another one was done after meeting the fist of the second clanner.
“They are not worthy indeed, but they make a nice sound when they fall on the ground.”
He said it with a smile, and cracked his neck, and his hand. Taking place in front of the woman. Covering her retreat.
“If you want to leave, now is a good time. They maybe not dangerous, but they are a lot of them, and even I have some limits.”