[X] To spend time with my dad. (Exactly what it says on the tin.)
[X] To spend time with my dad. (Exactly what it says on the tin.)
Lets not demand anything right away. We should simply test the waters.
Lets not demand anything right away. We should simply test the waters.
King Arthur
The Once and Future King
[X] To spend time with my dad. (Exactly what it says on the tin.)
- Location
- Cyberspace
[X] To spend time with my dad. (Exactly what it says on the tin.)
Chimeraguard
We do deserve to exist.
[X] To spend time with my dad. (Exactly what it says on the tin.)
[X] To spend time with my dad. (Exactly what it says on the tin.)
[X] To spend time with my dad. (Exactly what it says on the tin.)
Given that we have a reputation now, it'll probably be prudent next turn to take and double down on:
Or a similar Intrigue action.
Or a similar Intrigue action.
- Location
- Tel'aran'rhiod
The sound of gms getting upset is like music to my ears because it usually means 100s have been rolled
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As if thousands of GMs cried out in butthurt and were suddenly silenced.
Drunken Misadventures
Voikirium
SV's Estalia Guy
- Location
- Ruritania Illinois
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Drunken Misadventures
"To spend time with my dad. I missed you, old man, as stupid as it may seems."
Old Man Reaction: Needed:60 Rolled:85+6=91
He rubs his stubble, the mangy attempt at growing a beard dominating his face. Quickly, he shrugs on his jacket, the blazer and longcoat coming down to his knees. He heads past you for the speeder, leaping it in and turning it on. You get in to the passenger seat, strapping in quickly. "So where're we going?"
"A place I wish my old man had taken me, when I was about a deade younger than you. Better late than never, yeah?"
The two of you finally land ten minute later just outside a cantina that strikes you as deeply unpleasant. "A cantina. Bit stereotypical, don't you think?"
'You'll thank me later, boy." He opens the door and slides into a booth, and you follow him. A waiter droid- rusted and old, just like the rest of the cantine- steps out, holding two glasses of some frothy concoction, slapping them down in front of you. You arch an eyebrow as he pays, slipping twenty credits to the droid. "Ewok Ale. Little furry bastards might make me want tear out my own ear drums, but they make damn good drinks."
You check something on your holopad quick, only to frown. "Pa, I'm checking the list of authorized liquor distributors on Corellia, and I'm not noticing any-" You sigh as the full name of the cantina strikes you. "Really? Tiny Tian's Topless Twi'leks? Really?"
You give a long suffering sigh, while he simply flips a few credits to an Ithorian who came out as you checked the information. "That's only during the night, Tellus. Right now it's nothing more than a cantina with a few suspicious stains." He taps the mug in front of you. "And right now, there's a good drink in front of you. You're a Rebel now anyway, boy, so might I suggest Rebelling?"
With a shrug and sigh, you take one short drink- and have your precaution rewarded when it turns out to be liquid fire. It burns all the way down, though you must admit it tastes good. Your father nods. "Smart lad. Didn't get to laugh, but I'll still take not having an idiot for a son." Drawing back, you brace yourself for a night with your father...
---
"So I said to her 'I don't think this gonna work', went home, and had myself a bucket of chocolate." Man, that stuff's strong- three- no wait, four- mugs in, and flickery or not, it's gotten even more burning.
Your father laughs, and flicks away a wrapper. "And that right there is why I'm never gonna become a grandfather."
"Few reasons more pressing than that, jackass." You tried to mumble, but being slightly drunk you didn't get a chance. Your father, ever vigilant, hears, and gasps.
"You mean-"
You sigh and cut him off at the pass. "Yes, father- I'm a lot like you, in that regard." He beckons for one of the eponymous twi'leks to come over. You make a very noble effort to look at her face, before draining a mug of ale again. It's going to be a long night.
---
"So I said 'I'm not just my body' and she flipped the hell out." The nice twi'lek with the pretty eyes nods along.
"I know what you mean, pal."
"Is it so wrong to want to be wanted for my mind as well? I mean I fixed a damn Space Station with a hydrospanner and some scrap- but no, he was desperate for credits once and suddenly I'm an idiot!" You sob once. "I just wanna be loved for once! Is that so wrong to ask?"
The Twi'lek nods along. "I get what you're saying." Meanwhile, your father simply squeezes the bridge of his nose.
---
You sing along with the chanting song that your fellow patrons have come up with, ale in hand. You accidentally spill your ale on your shirt, and some poor fella tries to grab your shirt to point it out to you. Your father, misunderstanding this, kicks him between the shoulder blades- and catches you underneath him, where you blessedly pass out without getting beaten- though before you do you hear dad break a chair over someone's head.
---
The next time you wake up, you're in an alley and there's a note next to you scrawled on flimsi in quick, precise hand- your father's.
Tellus,
Took the liberty of calling for a ride for your- the pretty Alderaanian girl. Got you an alibi, too- just say it was a guy called Greedo. You know where to find me when I'm not here- just look for the Oath Star.
-Dec Othello
I missed you, son.
You haul yourself to the spaceport, where Mira's ambassadorial ship waits. You are let on without much fuss, while Mira tends to your wounds- slight though they are- chatting with you the whole while. You also note as you step off in your own port that a ship with Ewok ale is disembarking its cargo.
You step into your office, the sparse work space familiar, and you feel content.
+50 Credits for base Income, Contact made with Dec Othello
"To spend time with my dad. I missed you, old man, as stupid as it may seems."
Old Man Reaction: Needed:60 Rolled:85+6=91
He rubs his stubble, the mangy attempt at growing a beard dominating his face. Quickly, he shrugs on his jacket, the blazer and longcoat coming down to his knees. He heads past you for the speeder, leaping it in and turning it on. You get in to the passenger seat, strapping in quickly. "So where're we going?"
"A place I wish my old man had taken me, when I was about a deade younger than you. Better late than never, yeah?"
The two of you finally land ten minute later just outside a cantina that strikes you as deeply unpleasant. "A cantina. Bit stereotypical, don't you think?"
'You'll thank me later, boy." He opens the door and slides into a booth, and you follow him. A waiter droid- rusted and old, just like the rest of the cantine- steps out, holding two glasses of some frothy concoction, slapping them down in front of you. You arch an eyebrow as he pays, slipping twenty credits to the droid. "Ewok Ale. Little furry bastards might make me want tear out my own ear drums, but they make damn good drinks."
You check something on your holopad quick, only to frown. "Pa, I'm checking the list of authorized liquor distributors on Corellia, and I'm not noticing any-" You sigh as the full name of the cantina strikes you. "Really? Tiny Tian's Topless Twi'leks? Really?"
You give a long suffering sigh, while he simply flips a few credits to an Ithorian who came out as you checked the information. "That's only during the night, Tellus. Right now it's nothing more than a cantina with a few suspicious stains." He taps the mug in front of you. "And right now, there's a good drink in front of you. You're a Rebel now anyway, boy, so might I suggest Rebelling?"
With a shrug and sigh, you take one short drink- and have your precaution rewarded when it turns out to be liquid fire. It burns all the way down, though you must admit it tastes good. Your father nods. "Smart lad. Didn't get to laugh, but I'll still take not having an idiot for a son." Drawing back, you brace yourself for a night with your father...
---
"So I said to her 'I don't think this gonna work', went home, and had myself a bucket of chocolate." Man, that stuff's strong- three- no wait, four- mugs in, and flickery or not, it's gotten even more burning.
Your father laughs, and flicks away a wrapper. "And that right there is why I'm never gonna become a grandfather."
"Few reasons more pressing than that, jackass." You tried to mumble, but being slightly drunk you didn't get a chance. Your father, ever vigilant, hears, and gasps.
"You mean-"
You sigh and cut him off at the pass. "Yes, father- I'm a lot like you, in that regard." He beckons for one of the eponymous twi'leks to come over. You make a very noble effort to look at her face, before draining a mug of ale again. It's going to be a long night.
---
"So I said 'I'm not just my body' and she flipped the hell out." The nice twi'lek with the pretty eyes nods along.
"I know what you mean, pal."
"Is it so wrong to want to be wanted for my mind as well? I mean I fixed a damn Space Station with a hydrospanner and some scrap- but no, he was desperate for credits once and suddenly I'm an idiot!" You sob once. "I just wanna be loved for once! Is that so wrong to ask?"
The Twi'lek nods along. "I get what you're saying." Meanwhile, your father simply squeezes the bridge of his nose.
---
You sing along with the chanting song that your fellow patrons have come up with, ale in hand. You accidentally spill your ale on your shirt, and some poor fella tries to grab your shirt to point it out to you. Your father, misunderstanding this, kicks him between the shoulder blades- and catches you underneath him, where you blessedly pass out without getting beaten- though before you do you hear dad break a chair over someone's head.
---
The next time you wake up, you're in an alley and there's a note next to you scrawled on flimsi in quick, precise hand- your father's.
Tellus,
Took the liberty of calling for a ride for your- the pretty Alderaanian girl. Got you an alibi, too- just say it was a guy called Greedo. You know where to find me when I'm not here- just look for the Oath Star.
-Dec Othello
I missed you, son.
You haul yourself to the spaceport, where Mira's ambassadorial ship waits. You are let on without much fuss, while Mira tends to your wounds- slight though they are- chatting with you the whole while. You also note as you step off in your own port that a ship with Ewok ale is disembarking its cargo.
You step into your office, the sparse work space familiar, and you feel content.
+50 Credits for base Income, Contact made with Dec Othello
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Ok, more seriously… Are you using physical dice? One SB/SV GM ran into a similar problem, his younger brother cooked his dice in the microwave so that they'd always come up crit-success.
Being Greedo is suffering.
- Location
- Cyberspace
Ah, drunken bonding, the proper way to repair family bridges.
Now I'm tempted to try and make it a consistent thing, where we constantly cause problems for Greedo, either because he's a convenient patsy, we panic and use the name as a fake, we accidentally draw customs officials across a bit of business he's doing, that kind of thing.
The goal is to get him to just whimper on seeing us run by.
Now I'm tempted to try and make it a consistent thing, where we constantly cause problems for Greedo, either because he's a convenient patsy, we panic and use the name as a fake, we accidentally draw customs officials across a bit of business he's doing, that kind of thing.
The goal is to get him to just whimper on seeing us run by.