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 "Speakin' of flies on the wall, sir, maybe the greenhouses could do with some ladybirds to take care of these aphids an' mites that keep growing? See, I've got awful itches from 'em sir, every shift I do there sir, 'specially on my behind." +0 Anatoly Minionings: 2 -> 3 Votes Remaining: + -
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May 2, 2019 19:02
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"This is our destiny. This is the world's destiny. This is the future." +1 to Dieter Von Schwartzwald Votes remaining: 0 - - Minion points: 1->2
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May 3, 2019 02:16
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"Glorious." Dieter Von Schwartzwald +1
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May 3, 2019 02:46
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 Reach: 4 | Grasp: 4 | Loyalty:  Crimson Eye (+1/-1)Backstory: Former Oil Baron [Using] Motivation: Return things to the Good Old Days (i.e. a Lawless World) [Used Act 2] Lair: The Ranch in the Middle of Nowhere _________________________________ "Good news: you're going to Russia, just like ya wanted." A not-quite-sober Crimson Eye stares blankly at Old West. "Don't worry, this ain't about gettin' rid of ya, it's a sorta exchange program with an associate of mine. They're sendin' some sort of technical genius, I'm sendin' someone who isn't a tickin' time bomb. I'm still expecting ya to fill me in on whatever's goin' on in that part of the world, especially with H.A.M.M.E.R., of course, but after that you work for Doctor Yelagin." He didn't say it, but it was probably a good thing Crimson Eye'd be leaving now, before Old West's capitalist past made working together difficult. The old cowboy threw a fake passport and some traveling money at the commie sharpshooter. "Now get the hell out, before the rest of the boys realize you're leavin'." Double Agent: Sending Crimson Eye to Dr. Anatoly Yelagin in exchange for +1 Reach and +1 Grasp. Some time after, Wesley wandered through the Ranch's warehouse, checking how far along they were to accomplishing his plan. They had kept some of the stolen weapons and supplies from the Korean war, which should be quite useful soon. His men continued to stack oil barrels, which should more than last them long enough to get the steam engine in a state to power the entire Ranch. They had plenty of guns and ammo, and the moonshine distillery was up and running. Once this Spanner arrived, their expertise would be needed to complete the device...but there was still a necessary component missing. A component he had finally tracked down. It'd taken more time and money then he'd liked, but the fortune and contacts he'd built up when he was an oil baron came through. P.A.T.R.I.O.T. was working on something big, and no matter how much they focused on keeping a lid on their work, money had a way to make people, upper management and disgruntled workers alike, talk. Project: Thunderstorm was supposed to be a way to stop nukes before they came close to the east coast, using "electromag-whatsits" to fry the circuitry in the missiles. Wesley didn't care what their intended purpose was, what was important was that this was all he needed to finish his device. Smiling, Old West turned to his gang. "Enough subtlety, it's time to go out and steal somethin' fancy from those idiots at P.A.T.R.I.O.T.!" Steal Project: Thunderstorm from PATRIOT: 1d20 1 +2 from Background, total of 3 "Oh for God's sake, who's in charge of the drinkin' rations?! I told you we don't drink until after the mission is over!"
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May 5, 2019 21:15
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"But Hoss didn't yer say it was always fives o clock shhumwhere?" Abstain Minion Points: 3 TheNabster fucked around with this message at 17:26 on May 6, 2019 |
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May 5, 2019 21:22
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 A particularly unscrupulous switchboard operator, bribed by at least six sources, frantically attempts to ensure that all the communications coming through are properly - or, rather, improperly - rerouted. Berlin receives a bulletin on an African cryptid thought decrypted, while the Russian embassy receives reports that a P.A.T.R.I.O.T. superweapon has caught the eyes of a particularly private sector. The volume, however, is overwhelming, and it's hard to say for certain if every communique has been properly sabotaged... Or if the new recipients will stay silent, when all is said and done. Abstain Votes Remaining: + - Minion Points: 2 -> 3 MaxieSatan fucked around with this message at 17:37 on May 6, 2019 |
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May 5, 2019 22:04
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Votes Remaining: + - Minion Points: 2 -> 3 "Yeah, honey? I'm going to run a bit late. Boss wants me to do a little overtime. I'm going to do the worst overtime ever done to get him back, but still, some progress is going to be made. But I am going to neutralize it!"
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May 5, 2019 22:06
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Little did Billy Boe Job know that his mess-up with the ranch's speaker controls just as Wesley was addressing his gang would have far-reaching consequences. -1 "Old West". Astus posted:
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May 5, 2019 22:30
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 Series: 1 | Act: 3 Reach: 6 | Grasp: 5 | Heat: 3 | Loyalty: None Backstory: Mad Geneticist Motivation: Biological Perfection / Deific Adoration (using) Lair: Uncharted Jungle Island (X) Caper: Scheme in Lair The woman... That woman... That accursed woman had shot and killed Providence, the first-made mother among the tiger-people and trusted leader among her fellow beast-kin. What had been lost to the animal-man tribes in the process of losing Providence, no one in the civilized human world would ever know. More's the pity for humanity, for they would all pay for the proud tiger-mother's death just the same. That woman... the one who did this to Providence, that did this to her children, Chance and Kismet, and to the beast-people as a whole - she will pay for her transgressions, slowly and painfully and under a dull operating knife, if Dr. Sergio Monstroso had anything to say about it. The blasted woman Mariana Marimba would die on the operating table and become reborn anew, as a rabbit or a mouse or a chicken or a snake, or some other cowardly, tiny creature that had an innate tendency to find its way underfoot. Until that day of blessed karmic justice arrived - bound and gagged - on his doorstep, Dr. Sergio Monstroso would put his attentions on improving the lives and the safety of his beast-people. * * * * * * * Several months had passed since the ritualized funerals of Providence, the dog-boy Sanjay, and the rest of the Dragon-kin slain by the humans in the village on the big island, and Dr. Sergio Monstroso had found himself patiently instructing a rather bull-headed demi-cow-woman on the finer points of midwifery while a team of nervous gazelle-nurses assisted him in the births of a litter of lion-people. Seized with relief, Dr. Monstroso noticed that, among each of the lion-people cubs, there was a faint striping pattern that reminded him of Providence's inimitable fur coat. Surely, the original tiger-woman's geneline would prove to be useful to others, and so to some degree it would be present in all the felid-folk from this day forward. In this way, Providence would prove to be more than a metaphorical mother-figure to most of the feline beast-kin. After the births of Leo, Lea, Lio, Lia and Lou, Dr. Monstroso retired to his personal thatched hut for an evening of silent meditation. Dr. Sergio Monstroso knew that he was at the cusp of a bottleneck in the further evolution of demi-mankind. He could choose to allow the various animal-people tribes to split along genetic lines and become even more segregated and differentiated from one another, or he could try to guide them collectively toward an even-more-improved melange of genetically-altered advances. A person with the hide of a dragon and the retractable claws of a cat, perhaps, or a person with the horns of a ram and the trunk of an elephant? Why should one's progeny be so limited by one's own inherited genetics? Surely, a choice could be allowed, since the technology is there... Surely, if there was a perfect human out there, they would have been created by now? Dr. Sergio Monstroso reached into the fires lurking within and drew deep from the blazing coals of his malevolent, smoldering being. He had a collection of wildly-skilled beast-people at his beck and call, listening intently to his every word. All he needed to do was to merely say the word, and the flocks and herds and prides of animal-folk would listen. Dr. Monstroso decided he would go as "primitive" as he dared and found his own religion. He already had the magics of genetic science to back him up and the worship of his beast-kin, all he needed now was a code of ethics to enforce, a rite of passage to codify, a promise of an afterlife to encourage, and an enemy to identify. Dr. Monstroso worked his magics among his people, and - whether or not they knew it - the world felt it. Taming Tiergarten's Terrors: Theology, Theosophy, and Thaumaturgy: 1d20+2 19
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May 6, 2019 02:05
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A soft breezes blows in the Australian outback, barely disturbed by the airplanes flying to and fro, bringing athletes to the Olympics. Elsewhere in the world, Masterminds may be scheming, but here and now, there is peace. Abstaining. 3 Minion points Votes remaining: + - paradoxGentleman fucked around with this message at 09:31 on May 21, 2019 |
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May 6, 2019 16:53
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