Mercenary RPG (Psuedo-Firefly)

Addressing the medics, Rae replied: "Shotgun wound. So far I've managed to get the pellets out, but that's about it." She backed away from her patient, to give the medics a better view.

"We've ended the problem." Ted replied to the big man, "A little more violently than I would have preferred, but we weren't given much of a choice."

One of the medics went over to the already dead man and checked him for vitals. "This one's gone." He noted plainly to the other medic.
The other medic pulled over his medical kit and inspected the shotgun wound, double checking Rae's work.

"Where are the other injured?" The unoccupied medic asked Rae, standing up from the dead man.

The big man nodded slightly to Ted's answer.

The regular stature police man waited for an answer. Pete looked to the others to explain, considering he wasn't exactly present for the beginning. More so Raymond and Ted, considering Rae was busy with the medics.

-
ooc:
If you'd rather not summarize what happened, the bartender could do it.

"I'm not one for stories." Ted said before motioning to the bartender, "You should ask him if you want one. Although there may be a few details I'd like to make sure are correct."

The policeman's gaze shifted towards the bartender.

"A fight started, an' 'cause my bouncer was out for one fuckin' day, it got huge." The bartender started, venting some frustration. The policeman quickly wrote stuff down as he went. "Then these guys came in, lookin' for one'a my guys Gary, this brute handlin' me." He motioned towards Ted. "I was busy with the fight, so then they try'da stop the fight by threatenin' the guys with guns. Then 'coarse everyone starts shooting, and people ran an died."

The bartender crossed his arms and remained quite. After catching up with his writing and flipping a page, the policeman looked at Ted. "Anything you'd like t' add 'r cerrect?"

-
ooc:
I still haven't really figured out accents.

"I object to the term 'brute'." Ted replied, "But other than that the only thing he left out is how we had reached an agreement where we stopped the fighting in return for information."

"Shiong-mung duh kwong-run ..." The bartender mumbled when Ted brought up the term brute. "I never agreed to that!" He objected to Ted's claim of an agreement being made. "You just started shooting!"

The policeman's gaze subtly moved up from his notes and his writing pace slowed. He brought one of his legs underneath him (as opposed to leaving it stretched out).
The big man's head turned to focus in on Ted, and his finger slipped into the trigger guard.

-
ooc:
*Violent lunatic.

"There was plenty of time to stop us before we started shooting or even decline our offer." Ted said calmly, "The fact that you made no move to do so, and you even joined us in raising your weapon means we had a legally binding contract."

Rae felt a growing sense of worry in the pit of her stomach, but did her best to hide it. To the medic's inquiry, she replied: "Gone. One of them ran out of here a little while before you showed up, and the other..." She looked to her companions. "He ran out before that, I don't know where he is."

OOC: Sorry I've been gone, the power adapter for my computer rolled a matched failure.

"He took a couple shots at me so I shot him." Ted answered for Rae.

ooc:
@Glyph: Double zeros would be more appropriate for such a thing (critical failure).
No problem though, obviously.

Funny that no one's rolled a double zero. In another little RPG I did with UA (arena training), there were several double zeros.

-

"The one outside?" The medic asked Ted, standing up.

The note taking police officer gestured for the medic to stop though. "So lemme see if I got this right. There's a big bad bar fight. You three come in lookin' fer infermation, but the good bartender's busy with the fight, so you decide to help'em with 'is problem. So ya shoot at the rowdy... I get that so far?"

-
ooc:
It occurred to me that the medics skipped over the body outside on the porch. I guess they thought he was already dead.

"There's one right outside, and another further along." Ted said to the medic, "Both dead."

Then turning back to the police officer, "We only shot at those who shot at us or had obvious intent to do so."

Rae stood back and let the professional medics do their job. She stood near the wall and listened to the conversation in the room.

OOC: DUUURRRRR BECUZ I DUNNO WHAT ELSE TO DO A HUUUUURRRRRRRRRR

"We threatened them to leave, then they shot at us, and 'then' we returned fire." Raymond clarified. "After we thought it was over, one of them shot me out of nowhere, so we chased him down and killed him." He added, helping the image of the mercenaries.

"... Right." The police officer nodded. "Good." He thought for a moment, then stood up and put his hands on his hips. "Well, all's well in the world then. Only problem then is damages."

-
ooc:
Thought I'd help out your case a little by botting Raymond. I probably didn't play him perfectly.
Something might need to be figured out for his character, if Fluffy doesn't return.

OOC: I'll give him an offer he can't refuse

Rae let out a short breath of relief. "We'll be sure to pay for our share of the damages. As well as a tip for the information," she said, looking towards the bartender. "Speaking of which..."

Ted waited for the response.

ooc:
Sorry for the late response. (No real excuse.)

-

"We c'n loot the other guys fer what they owe." The police officer commented. "Other than that, I think we're pretty much all set here. If I can just get some way t' keep in touch with ya." He asked, getting his notes ready again.

(Assuming you give him contact info. Probably phone number and address.
It occurred to me that you guys don't have a mercenary group name.)

"For the tip, how much we talking?" The bartender asked.

(I'll just assume you guys agree on something around 50 bucks, to move things along.
If you'd like to haggle, you're welcome to.)

"Lemme check my records..." The bartender said as he walked off into the back, bumping into the counter.

(Assuming either you follow him into his office or he comes back out.)

"He's at the 'apartment' at back sight." The bartender informed the mercenaries.
"I know where that is." Pete said.

The medics helped the injured man onto his feet, and then lead him out the door to their truck. The two police officers followed them out.

"Lead the way then." Ted said to Pete intent on following once he did so.

Rae followed her compatriots quietly, contemplative of what had occurred in the bar.

As the mercenaries walked out of the bar, the policeman walked up alongside them. "I should ask, what was that info related to?"

The big man stepped through the group as he carried out the dead body that was inside the bar. A small trail of blood followed behind him.

"A kidnapping. We're looking for leads on how to get someone back."

"Izat the Sanborn case?" The officer asked.

(Assuming you say yes.)

"Hmm. We'll prob'ly check in with you, see how yer doin'. If ya need anything, let us know and we'll see what we can do. 'Til then, good luck." He nodded goodbye and then assisted with the rest of the body clean up.

And so the mercenaries were on their way with Pete at the wheel.


It didn't take them long to reach their destination, just going from Grip and Handle to Back Sight (because they're close on a gun).
They came to a relatively simple and large building. It stood three stories tall and maybe forty yards across (give or take largely) with its caged glass windows spaced out evenly.
It seemed a little worse for wear, having no paint, breaking down at some points, with boarded or broken windows and some rusted points.

The front entrance was easy to spot, a door in the front with the sign "Apartment" posted directly above. Only a few of vehicles were parked outside, and a few men were chatting by one.

Pete pulled up by the entrance with the driver's seat closest and killed the engine.

-
ooc:
When I'm not busy and the opportunity presents itself, I'll probably try to remove Raymond (assuming Fluffy doesn't return).
Ideally, in such a way where he could return without much issue (sent off to do something else).
Getting badly injured is a less ideal way. I doubt I'd resort to death.

For now, perhaps leave him and Pete to watch the car? (Cause you don't know what those other guys might be doing.) Up to you.

Sorry if I'm not putting as much effort into things. School's gotten a little busy lately.

OOC: Sorry I've been quiet recently, school, my new job, and my mother with her college-related nagging have all kept me busier than usual.

Rae stepped out of the truck, but kept her eyes locked on the building. She was looking for any discerning features or possible threats. Intuition and assumption overrode her cautious logic, however - it was just an apartment building. Trying to ignore the nervous pounding of her heart in her chest, Rae stepped warily towards the front door. Her nerves got the best of her, however, and she stopped. From time to time she eyed the strangers chatting by the car. "So... does anybody know his apartment number?"

ooc:
@Glyph: No problem. A little slowness might do me well.
You're in the searching for colleges stage, right? Best of luck to you.

-

The apartment didn't have any threatening signs. No one was watching out in the windows or anything.

The nearby group seemed about as paranoid of the mercenaries as the mercenaries were of them. In other words, keeping an eye on them but not much else.

Pete stayed in the driver's seat of the truck, assuming his previous role of car watch.
Mindful of the other men, Raymond stayed with Pete, standing in the bed of the truck. He rubbed his ribs every now and then.

ooc: I can speak to the college nagging bit, I've been getting an earful lately. Always fun.

Ted strolled up to the group of strangers, trying to be as unimposing as possible. "Any chance you guys could answer a quick question?" He asked when he got closer, "We're looking for Gary but we don't know his apartment number."

Ted's attempt at being unimposing at least slightly worked. The fact that he was particularly armed and not exactly innocent looking didn't help.
The group quickly took notice of him and turned towards him as he approached, looking at him seriously. There were four men, a couple of which had holstered pistols and their hands resting by their sides.

They glanced at one another for a moment when Ted asked his question. "Not sure who ya talkin' about." One of them replied. The others seemed equally unknowing.

Rae stepped forward and tried to gauge the reactions of the foreign ones. She stayed a couple steps behind Ted, but raised her voice in question. "He's a bartender. We don't mean harm, we're just looking for useful information."

The men glanced at each other again to see if any of them knew 'Gary,' but none seemed to. "I still dunno 'im, sorry." The same man as before said with a shrug, seeming genuine.

"What info?" Another one of them asked.

"A friend of ours. He's gone missing and we're trying to find him. Thanks anyways." Rae turned and walked towards the entrance to the apartments.

The mercenaries hit another road block before that of finding Gary's room number.
Actually getting into the building.

The front-front door was open, but it led into a small room. A relatively large door mat was on the ground that failed to reach any of the walls, and a puddle of dried vomit was in one of the corners (thoroughly giving the room an awful stench).
At the other end of the small room (opposite the outside door) was another door, which had a key lock in its knob.

Next to the door was a list of apartment room numbers (some crossed out), each with a ringer button.
In the side wall of the room was little mailboxes, each with key locks. One looked like it'd been broken into, hanging open and deformed.