A small Unassuming Office, Center Level 3.

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A small Unassuming Office, Center Level 3.

Postby Consumer » Wed Oct 14, 2020 8:10 am

In a small unassuming building is a few small unassuming offices, they're tastefully decorated, but when one thinks about it, they're easily forgettable in every way. Inside these offices are a few employees, who also seem unassuming and easily forgettable, save for the man in the back office, but we'll get to him in a minute.

Mungo was certain that his last audition would get him the job, but the venue ended up going with a two-headed alien who did insult comedy against itself. As Mungo was slithering across town to get to his humble temporary dwelling, he nearly bumps into a rather stunning looking woman, who seems to color coordinate with her hair color of white. She wears a stylish white dress and some accent jewelry. "Ah, perfect, you're right on time." She says cryptically.

In her hand seems to materialize a small card. "My employer would be interested in meeting you, he says that he has work for you. So if you'll make your way to this location in two hours, I think you'll like what he has to say." The pretty lady in white says before handing Mungo the card. Mungo takes a moment to look at it, finding an address on level four. He looks up and the woman in white is gone, like a ghost.

So now approximately two hours later Mungo finds himself outside of an unassuming building.

What are your intentions?
"Death is the only true constant, for everything dies, but not everything truly lives."
GM of the Galactic Rogues (PW), The Templar, and AGM for Eurasia (Acting GM at the moment.)

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Re: A small Unassuming Office, Center Level 3.

Postby Mungo » Fri Oct 16, 2020 6:14 am

Perception: 1d100 = 68 21%
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 11 / 1d100 = 23

Mungo paused outside the building, checks the address once more. Yeah, this is the place alright. He sighs as he was aware this could be some sort of trap or trick. One that he was going to risk anyway. He'd already made up his mind. Well, it was actually his pitiful and rapidly depleting credit balance that made his mind for him. Work is work, work means pay and pay is good. Now, the nature of the work... well that was going to be the interesting part. I don't think this stage work. Nope this will be some shade of dodgy, dangerous and possibly illegal. Mungo thinks to himself. He is at peace with these possibilities.

The humanoid in white gave him a vibe, a vibe he hadn't seen in a while. It was a vibe he was familiar with, grown up around. She worked for SOMEONE. Not just any old boss. No, no she had a BOSS who was SOMEONE. A boss who could employ someone like the white woman got what they wanted. He takes a minute to wonder who this Playa could be... No matter who it is, Mungo is well aware that they are not the kind of person one keeps waiting. He checked the time. "Well, it's now or never." He says under his breath.

He knocks on the door or presses the buzzer, introduces himself politely to whoever greets him and presents the card he was given. He will hand over his weapons if requested. If asked to wait he'll ask for some sort of refreshment because he hasn't eaten in a while and could do with a decent meal. Yeah, I really need some cash... I'm totally over eating cheap food.

Skill roll:
Does Mungo have any idea who this playa who has summoned him may be? Lore: Galactic 1d100 = 34 / 49% - pass
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Re: A small Unassuming Office, Center Level 3.

Postby Consumer » Fri Oct 23, 2020 5:39 pm

Mungo finds another woman, sitting behind a desk in the lobby, if you could call it that. She's dressed in what could only be described as business attire. When the octo-man makes his way in, she almost immediately speaks. "Mr. Mungo, last door down the hall, he's expecting you." She says without even looking up.

Mungo finds the only door down the hall that is remotely open is the last one, a light shines from within. Once through the door, Mungo sees what he's seen a dozen or more times before, the back office of some low level shlub, but that is where the similarities end. Sitting behind the desk in a suit that would cost the average entertainer a years wages, is a humanoid male with slightly bluish skin and red eyes, his dark hair short and slicked back.

"Mr Mungo, please have a seat. Not the best accommodations, but it's what was available." The man gestures to the only other chair in the room.

"My employer recently saw a video of you dealing with a Splugorth Assassin. It impressed him, and that's not exactly an easy task. He'd like to offer you a possible place to work." The man says.

"It pays... well, it pays by the job. It's with a band of mercenaries he has under retainer. You would work with them, as a member of their team. They could use a clever individual such as yourself. So what do you think?" The man says.
"Death is the only true constant, for everything dies, but not everything truly lives."
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Re: A small Unassuming Office, Center Level 3.

Postby Mungo » Mon Oct 26, 2020 6:32 am

Perception: 1d100 = 40 /21%
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 11 / 1d100 = 53
Smooth red eyed fellow wrote:"My employer recently saw a video of you dealing with a Splugorth Assassin. It impressed him, and that's not exactly an easy task. He'd like to offer you a possible place to work. It pays... well, it pays by the job. It's with a band of mercenaries he has under retainer. You would work with them, as a member of their team. They could use a clever individual such as yourself. So what do you think?"

Mungo opens his beak as if to speak then pauses. Some-days I feel like everyone has seen that damn footage! This guys offer is interesting though... However, he isn't the boss though and seems to be leaving out quite a bit of info... He then asks a series of questions in an effort to learn more about the job offer.

"What do I think? I think I'm going to need a lot more detail before I can accept or decline this offer.
    First of all - who is your, an possibly my future, employer?
    Two. Why mercs 'on retainer'? Aren't mercs hired on a 'as needed' basis?
    Three. I assume this job is dangerous. How dangerous are we talking?
    Four. Could you give me a rough indication of the payout per team member per job?
    Five. Who else is on the team?
    Six. Why are your eyes red?
    Seven. What kind of jobs does the team do?
    Eight. Full disclosure here. I have a Staphra problem, as you can probably guess by the video. There is a fairly decent sized warband that wants me dead. I doubt that joining a team will dampen their desire for my demise. Will that be a problem?
    And last but not least. What's your name?"

He stands up and conjurers up a blackboard, stand and several pieces of chalk. He places the board facing the man and draws a line down the middle of the board. On one side he writes the word 'good', on the other he writes 'bad'. He then listens carefully to what the man has to say.
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Re: A small Unassuming Office, Center Level 3.

Postby Consumer » Tue Oct 27, 2020 2:09 pm

Mungo wrote:"What do I think? I think I'm going to need a lot more detail before I can accept or decline this offer."


The man nods. "Fair enough." He then shakes his head when the blackboard appears.

Mungo wrote:"First of all who is your, an possibly my future, employer?"


He nods. "Easy Enough, Thraxus, lord of the Manors, richest man in the known universe."

Mungo wrote:Two. Why mercs 'on retainer'? Aren't mercs hired on a 'as needed' basis?"


Again easy enough, don't have to go looking for them when you need them, having them on retainer is just convenient." The man says.

Mungo wrote:Three. I assume this job is dangerous. How dangerous are we talking?"


"Varies, sometimes real dangerous, other times not s much." The man says with a non-committing shrug.

Mungo wrote:"Four. Could you give me a rough indication of the payout per team member per job?"


"I honestly couldn't. I could tell you the job they're currently doing has a two million credit reward. But the hows and what's of their paying practices inside the team are unknown to me, as we're quite a bit hands off with them." The man says with a genuine confused look.

Mungo wrote:"Five. Who else is on the team?"


The man nods. "Not sure of the majority of the group, but their team leader is a man named Alex. They have a Promethean on the team too, but I only know that from past experience." The man says with a sigh.

Mungo wrote:"Six. Why are your eyes red?"


"Not a question I expected, born this way, it's rather normal for my race, and before you ask no I am not going to tell you what race I am." The man says with a chuckle.

Mungo wrote:"Seven. What kind of jobs does the team do?"


"Varies, but mostly fetch missions. Thraxus has wants and needs, and they help him facilitate that." The man says.

Mungo wrote:"Eight. Full disclosure here. I have a Staphra problem, as you can probably guess by the video. There is a fairly decent sized warband that wants me dead. I doubt that joining a team will dampen their desire for my demise. Will that be a problem?"


"Likely not, but then again it's not exactly my concern. I'm sure they all have skeleton's in their closets they would rather not let others know about. So that would be something you'd need to discuss with them personally. I'm just a middleman or Talent scout in this transaction." The man says earnestly.

Mungo wrote:"And last but not least. What's your name?"


"My name is Holt, I used to be the leader of the team we're recruiting you for. But Thraxus found better suited duties for my particular skill set." Holt says with a wave of his hand. "Not sure what more I can say. The pay while erratic, generally is good, and you'll likely find far more valuable things than credits in the long run." Holt says in closing. "So do you have more questions, or are you ready to make a decision?"
"Death is the only true constant, for everything dies, but not everything truly lives."
GM of the Galactic Rogues (PW), The Templar, and AGM for Eurasia (Acting GM at the moment.)

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Re: A small Unassuming Office, Center Level 3.

Postby Mungo » Thu Oct 29, 2020 5:29 am

Perception: 1d100 = 46 /21%
JiC d20/d100: 1d20 = 12 / 1d100 = 91

Mungo listens to Holt as he answers his questions. After each answer he shakes his head, grimaces or occasionally 'tut tut's or even 'tsk's. He clearly marks a tally for each response on his chalk board. All the marks on the bad side. Once Holt his finished Mungo turns to the board and looks at it intensely. Hmmm, looks like I don't have any choice really. I'll join. It's not like I've got anything else to do. Playing fetch for Thraxus... There are worse jobs out there for sure. Oh, I bet ol' Sourface would not be impressed to find out that I'll working for Thraxus now. He chuckles at the though of his old Splugorth High Lord master discovering that little bit of information. Then he immediately stops chuckling when he thinks about what ol' Sourface could or would do about it.

He turns to Holt and nods slightly. "I must consider this carefully. I will open myself to the tenuous strands of the whims of fate via a song of mediation to find an answer. As is the way of my people. Please sir, indulge me."

Mungo conjures up a little crank powered music box. He starts turning the crank, stands up and starts to sway rhythmically side to side. It's a sad, melancholy tune. He closes his eyes and starts to hum, apparently reaching deep within to reach the insight he seeks. After a few minutes be breaks into song.

All the things I'll never see
All the things I'll never be
All there is that's left for me
Is here in this eternity
Of isolation

The cavalcade, the jamboree
Of life, I thought was meant for me
I never dreamed that it would be
Replaced by this eternity
Of isolation

All the things I'll never see
All the things I'll never be
All my hopes are memory
All there is that's left for me
Is isolation


The song finished, Mungo looks at Holt and wipes away a tear. "Oh my... It seems I have been alone too long. Yes, Mr. Holt I would like to join the team. It appears I have grown lonely and the strands of fate have hinted that I must do something about it! What's the next step?" He says with solemn gravity. Well, that's the effect he's going for at least. Why just say yes when you make this Holt chap listen to a silly song? There is no lasting impression of a mere 'yes', a song though... Now that's something Holt will remember. Well, he might. Who knows. Whatever, this is for my own enjoyment.

Skill rolls:
Performance 1d100 = 55 /44% - fail
Dance 1d100 = 73 /44% - fail
Sing 1d100 = 59 /49% - fail
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