Inside 4: Long Overdue! [ACRO]

[Dirk Kris]

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All standard forum rules apply here, as do the godmodding rules generally agreed upon on this sub-forum.

This thread is for urban shenanigans as Outside is for wilderness shenanigans. It's generally a good idea to mark your PC's location with a [Location] tag at the top of your post so that other players using the thread will know where you are.

This thread is open for use by everyone. Feel free to make up locations within or even man a booth at the open market place. Please be respectful of other people's locations and refrain from blowing them up with an orbital laser strike or something.

There are NPCs all over the place, being a city and all. They are free to be used, abused, blown up, or turned into brain-hungry undead at your desecration. Please be responsible with your NPC use and clean up after you're done.

Above all else, be nice and have fun. That's the point of FFRP after all.

Locations
Barkhouse Bestiary (Public)

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Odd that the building had seemed to simply spring up overnight. Even stranger is the fact that is has somehow managed to grow over at ACROville as well. Things like that happen all the time in Nexus though, so perhaps not. Or... perhaps so...

You see, when a building pops up over night in Nexus it is usually not there one moment and then there the next. Those who happened to be wandering about during the wee hours of the morning swear that they saw this odd structure growing out of the ground. Like a malformed tree maturing far faster than any tree has any business maturing. And like a tree the roof of the building sports a canopy of branches and leaves which several local birds have already taken up residence in.

The leaves are thick and broad, the bark a curious brick red color and as smooth as a paint finish. Said bark is peeling in several places, revealing younger mottled green bark below. Rather reminiscent of a madrone, really.

Despite the fact that the building is quite clearly a tree it is also quite clearly a building. A tree that has grown into a rather unnatural shape. Above the front door one will find a sign of bright yellow barkless wood which reads:



Off to the side is what one would assume to be a carved wolf of the same wood baying at the sign. Because tree puns are funny.

One will find that the door opens quit effortlessly into the roomy interior of the tree-house. Perhaps the first thing that might strike one as odd is how well lit it is inside, due both to window pains of transparent plant membranes as well as bioluminescent globes hanging from the ceiling. The whole building feels somewhat humid, though the temperature is quite comfortable for your average humanoid.

Also hanging here and there are wooden cages. More akin to old fashioned song-bird cages that the ugly boxish wire mesh variety. Some of the cages are empty. Others contain various animals, both fuzzy and not, which watch passersby with curious eyes.

Like the cages, in truth like the building as a whole, there really don't seem to be any corners to speak of. Only smooth organic curves in this place. Which makes the counter in the main room stand out a fair bit. But only because of its planed surface. It's certainly by no means square. Or even rectangular. Rather it curves and meanders around a fair bit in a very haphazard way.

Behind the counter is a perch. And on the perch is a rather odd bird painted with earth tones and a fair bit of blue. Should a customer have a message for the owner while he's out it will be more than happy to remember it for you. And if he happens to be in another room the bird will probably squawk until it gets his attention.

From the main room one will find three doors branching off to other chambers, all with similar furnishings and décor as the first. One seems to be packed with various supplies for the proper care of curious critters. Food and bedding and cages and the like. To the right one will find more varied critters as in the first main room, though the temperature here is a little warmer and the lighting slightly more dark. Also of note are a series of raised ponds which contain a plethora of colorful fish.

Yes. Even trout.

The final room is fairly large and packed to the gills with all fashion of truly bizarre plants. Many of which seem to be growing what could be assumed to be... equipment. Rope. Individual pieces of armor, pauldrons and bracers mostly. Pendants. And other less identifiable things. At one wall of the chamber is another pond with a smallish waterfall running out above it. And basking on a rock at the edge of the pond is a three foot long salamander. The amphibian, not the elemental. Near it is a sign which reads:



On the second floor of the tree house is Avatar's workshop and personal quarters, though the means by which this portion of the building is accessed isn't immediately clear. The quarters are rather plain and Spartan. The workshop seems cluttered with notes and cages, though there is some semblance of method to the madness.

In all a rather strange place, no doubt. A strange place that sells custom magical beasts and living wondrous items. How very curious indeed. What an item that won't get fried by disjunction? Need a fire breathing guinea pig? Have you always thought that it would be useful to be resistant to petrifaction? Do you need some exploding seed pods? Then, fine customer, you have come to the right place! The proprietor even takes custom orders, though expect that such creatures will take a day or two to complete. After all, it isn't easy to build a living thing from the ground up.

So come in! Look around! Have your lycanthropy repressed and buy a monkey of healing to sit on your head!

Erin's Emporium (Public)

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Construction Gnomes have been hard at work renovating a small store along one of the various merchantile roads. Well, it was small. Now it's bigger on the inside.

And filled with every sort of weaponry imaginable, from across the multiverse. From blaster carbines to P-90s, surface-to-air missiles to ballistas, zats to nunchucks, they're all here.

Is that a siege crossbow sitting in the corner?

The Scrivener (Public)

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Just inside the front door are rows of bookshelves, featuring many a book, tome, and article filled with useful information. At first one would assume that this is just a bookstore, but, as the clerk behind the counter will cheerfully inform you, The Scrivener specializes in obtaining and researching information for a fee as well. On the second floor is Douglas' office, where one can hire him as a private investigator.

Camlar Wines (Public)

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Camlar Wines
Proprietess: Tessa Camlar Fairley

On entering, Camlar Wines appears more like a home than a shop. There are comfy chairs and a fireplace. The wine is, of course, in the cellar with magical wards to maintain its environment.

The shop specializes in wines from Camlar Vineyards in Faerun, though there are other varieties as well.

Not advertised, but possibly known through word of mouth, is that the proprietess can craft custom magic items with no waiting. Of course it takes time to do, but Tessa cheats. However, the cost is very high.

House of Oddities (Public)

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*squeak*
*squeak*
*squeak*
*squeak*
*squeak*

This man approaches an empty lot. Walking over, the man kneels down, setting his briefcase next to him. Opening it up, he leans far in, almost to the waist, before drawing himself back out again, holding a beaker of water in one hand and what appears to be a small model house in the other. Closing the briefcase, the Squeaky Shoes Man maneuvers to the center of the lot.

Placing the model down, he pours the water on it and then dashs back to his briefcase quickly. The model grows, slowly at first, then faster until soon, there stands a single story house. The paint was a hideous cat-puke green and peeling. Rust lined the porch railings and shutters were hanging on their sides. The windows were covered in dirt and dust. The man smiled and picked up his briefcase. Moving quickly to his new abode, the wooden steps gave a strained groan under his weight, but held. The door swings open with a screech and the man steps inside.

Some time later, the man comes out with a hammer and a wooden sign. Staking it in front of the house, somehow pushing it into pavement, the man nods, seemingly proud of his work and goes back inside. The sign reads as follows:



Those who walk up the ominously groaning steps and enter the shop/house will be greeted by an incredibly dusty room. Cobwebs lie all along the walls. Floorboards creak precariously. There even seems to be a hole or two in the floor. This place certainly seems unfit to live. To the right and towards the back of the room is another door that must lead further into the house.

In the middle of the room is a card table with one leg shorter than the others creating that annoying, impossible to remove, wobble. Sitting in a cheap folding metal chair facing the doorway is the Squeaky Shoes man. On top of the table is the briefcase.

Welcome to the House of Oddities. What is your flavor today?

Hestia Cyanide's Potions and Poisons (Public)

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The rumbling of cartwheels and the clippetty-clop of carthorses comes to a halt as the quaint little wagon comes to a halt in the empty lot. And I do mean quaint. About the size of a small room, the wagon seems comically tiny compared to the large twin carthorses that pull it, appearing too small for someone to live in, let alone hold a shop in. At least, until it expands. The wagon seems almost to explode as it enlarges, rooms and walls and chimneys and roofs popping and appearing until the wagon resembles a small, double-story, brightly painted cottage on wheels. The house sinks to the ground, wainscots lowering lowering to hide the wheels from view, until steps pop out from the bottom of the front door, coming to the floor, and a stable pops out from the side. A large creature, perhaps a troll, or maybe an ogre or a morlock or a bugbear, comes out the front door, herds the two carthorses into the stables (which, curiously, hold room for four), then returns inside, but not before hanging up a wooden sign proclaiming
Hestia Cyanide's
Potions and Poisons

in large white letters.


The inside of the shop is smoky and warm, with a sitting room at the front, consisting of a variety of mismatched comfy chairs arranged around a low-slung table, and a 'kitchen', if it can be called that, at the back, a chaotic arrangement of shelving containing a perplexing multitude of jars, vials and bottles, all facing inwards towards a giant cauldron (and a small stepladder, for Hestia is of the small sort).

The upstairs part of the store is out of bounds, for it is where Hestia lives and sleeps, when she is not at PEACE.

Samantha's Smith (Public)

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An open workyard greets you as you walk up to this building, an anvil and random scatterings of all sorts of raw materials lying on the floor, with neater, untouched pieces stacked in piles up against the wall. A few tools lay on a work bench attached to a forge, which, should one be knowledgeable about these sorts of things, will be found to be of the highest quality.

Inside the building your eyes are immediately drawn to the rows of weaponry adorning the walls. There aren't too many modern weapons there yet, most of the weapons primarily being swords, although there is a large selection of other such weapons as well. All of the weapons that are there are obviously the highest quality, and have clearly been polished recently.

Once your eyes finish taking in the weaponry they'll spot the counter on the opposite side of the room, with a young woman, probably in her early twenties leaning on it, with a cash register off to the side. Her blond hair is tied back in a sensible ponytail, and her smile is warm and genuine as you come in.

Club 30's (Public)

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A posh nightclub run by Jack, one of the area's businessmen. Ladies and gentlemen from all walks of life meet and mingle here, so long as they follow the formal dress code. The interior is set up in 50's modern-jazz style. There is a private VIP area for business dealings or couples who want to be away from prying eyes, a bar, and a raised stage. Live music is played nightly, currently fronted by Jack's girlfriend Layla, a pretty blonde elven girl.

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Rising up above the urban filth is the golden visage of K-CORP, towering above the neighboring buildings like some sun-temple, casting a dark shadow on the nearby houses an-
...
Okay, it looks pretty much exactly like the Tyrell Corporation building from Blade Runner, with a few additions. But then, what would you expect from a robot? They aren't exactly renowned for their creativity. People who enter, past the wrought iron gates and the gardens, complete with ornamental peacocks (Replicants, of course), will find themselves in a tremendous foyer, several stories in height (seven, judging from the balconies overhead), dominated by a giant golden fountain, populated by a variety of 'mythical' beings and fae, producing pure water from their mouths, which falls, sometimes for several meters, into the wide pool below, populated with nymphs and mermaids and various aquatic creatures, frozen in a single moment, a snapshot of an idyllic, fairytale life so sickeningly sweet one could contract diabetes from it at a glance.
Past the fountain, at the end of the foyer is a single stone reception desk, bearing the company motto, 'THE FUTURE IS NOW' across it in large friendly letters, manned by a single bored looking receptionist. Soft music drifts across the wide empty space, somehow avoiding echoing or distorting in the cavernous area. That's future tech for you.
Past the foyer? Well then, that's the adventure...

OOC: K-CORP is a manufacturer for various arms and weapons of war, though they do also produce several other future technologies. K-CORP caters mainly to organizations and major groups, and individual buyers shall be directed to Erin's Emporium, which I do believe contains a quite few of our wonderful wonderful products. Of course, the main reason for K-CORP's existence is to provide a base for KR-15 to further his plans to TAKE OVER THE WORLD! Enjoy!

The title is a misnomer, of course. No doubt the moniker of this place was settled on after a brief conversation that started with, 'Wouldn't it be funny if...?'. But now the name has stuck.

But what is this place, you ask?

Quite simple.

This is the place between the others that isn't Outside. Now, not outside as in outdoors. That out-door market place is certainly outside. But it isn't Outside. It isn't nestled between the roaring waves of the sea and the ancient, decaying mountains. It isn't hidden in the wilds.

It's here.

In this city.

This urban center that has burst forth like a field of toad-stools after an autumn rain. This city that begun to grow as soon as the first place of business was planted outside the various ACRO organizations.

It's a strange city, to be sure. Filled with all manner of people and places and dangers and wonders. One day a location may be an empty lot. The next a butcher shop. The next a lichen-choked cathedral long since abandoned. Nothing is static. All is in flux.

It had to have been here before. Right? People walked from the Taverna to the various Orgs all the time. So how would it have been missed? Perhaps it is now so much more real because it has been acknowledged.

So then, what is this place you ask?

Well my dear hypothetical inquirer, it is the urban counterpart of Outside. It is the inns and shops and streets and slums. The markets and the parks and the fountains and the city squares. It is the libraries and the places of worship and the dank sewer systems. It is all the urban locations that don't have a place to call their own.

Always wanted to crash through a fruit stand in a dramatic chase scene? Well now you can.

Beware the Cute Diseased Pigeons, however. While they may be adorable they are known carries of the deadly Vaporization Flu.

[AmberVael]

(Might want to remove that OOC tag up at the top. =P)

[horngeek]

[Robot Guards R Us]

Hi!

...whatever. I just need two robot guards that could be reasonably expected to defend against stuff of a moderate level.

Of course! We have guard dogs!



They have lasers.

Okay, I'll take four. I'll transport them myself.

[Ashen Lilies]

[Robot Guards R Us]

A little spy camera swivels, wondering who the hell buys robot guard dogs.

[Dirk Kris]

Jack's Penthouse
After a long weekend spent at the club, Layla sleeps dreamlessly in Jack's bed, curled on her side, snuggling a pillow. Aww.

[Neon Knight]

[Jack's Penthouse]

Jack himself is sitting close by, smiling at her while petting one of the large, quiet shadow dogs.

He gets up and goes to make a call about getting a street repaired.

[Dirk Kris]

Jack's Penthouse
Layla mutters something in her sleep and nuzzles her face against the pillow. Suddenly she bolts awake and sits straight up, the sheet falling. Her caramel-colored eyes are wide, and her chest heaves as she pants for breath. "She needs me." The statement is simple - a fact. Layla swings her feet off the bed and heads for the closet to fetch herself something to wear.

[Neon Knight]

Jack's Penthouse

Jack hears Layla getting up and finishes his phone call. "Good morning, darling."

[Dirk Kris]

"Morning." Layla seems distracted, her hands shaking slightly. "I need to go...do you know someone named Bushranger? From...HALO? I need to find him. Well, her, but..." Layla clenches her hands into fists, unclenches, clenches. She's clearly upset about something.

[Neon Knight]

[Jack's Penthouse]

Jack is surprised, but reaches out to stroke her cheek. "Hey, hey.. hold on. You need to go somewhere, I'll let you go there. But could you please explain to me? I don't know who you're talking about."

[Dirk Kris]

Jack's
Layla sighs, melting a little as Jack touches her cheek. She wonders if she'll ever get used to it - and hopes that she doesn't. She slips on a black baby-doll style dress and sits at the foot of the bed. "Remember when you found me? There were three of us. Alexi was the man, and she and I...something's wrong with her. I can feel it."

[Neon Knight]

[Jack's]

"Oh, I see. Do you need to go alone, or can I come with you and try to help?" Jack looks at her carefully. "She's like a sister to you, isn't she?"

[Dirk Kris]

Jack's
Layla shrugs. "I guess. And I feel so silly, I don't even know what name she's using now." She reaches over and takes Jack's hand in hers. "I would love it if you came with me, Jacky. Thank you." She stands and tries to give his cheek a kiss. "I guess because we all used to be the same person, I can tell when something's wrong. I hear that twins sometimes have a connection like that."

[Neon Knight]

[Jack's]

Jack is kissed on the cheek and reciprocates the action. "Alright, then. It's settled. Let's go find her." Jack will grab his cellphone so that he can make a few business calls on-route.

[Dirk Kris]

Jack's
Layla nods, deciding to leave her gun, then heads for HALO.

[Neon Knight]

[Jack's]

Jack follows.

[Darkcomet]

[Gangland]

The merc assault force, significantly weakened by the Deus Ex Mag-ina, is working on establishing control over the areas they've blown through already rather than advance further. They won't do that until they get reinforcements.

[Neon Knight]

[Gangland]

The turf lost to the mercs has apparently been conceded, as probes and attacks on these sectors is almost non-resistant.

[Neon Knight]

[Relief Center]

May is busy aiding those harmed in the recent fighting. Today she's working in the triage, having taken enough first aid lessons to help out there.

[The Bushranger]

[Erin's Emporium]

Erin is behind the counter today, reading a book.


[Streets, somewhere...]

A shimmering, wintry-looking chimera-like beast swoops over the various fighting, its rider paying no heed to events below as it heads in the direction of the Taverna.

[Dirk Kris]

Erin's
A little ferret wearing a pouch slung over his back scampers into the store and up onto the counter. He regards Erin curiously, then a low male voice comes into her mind. Hey there. I got the thing delivered to the guy at...this address. He slides over a little scrap of paper and tilts his head to the side. Anything else? And who're you, anyway? We haven't met.

[The Bushranger]

[EE]

Erin looks up and regards the ferret curiously for a moment, then smiles as she takes the paper and looks at it. Are you talking about Greg, perhaps? And I'm Erin, Erin O'Connell.

It might be noted that there are two entirely different Erin O'Connells in town at the moment.

What's your name? I presume it's not Ferretina the Weasel Queen...

[Dirk Kris]

EE
The ferret's mental voice is tinged with amusement. About as likely as you being the King of Trolls. I'm Meridian. He tilts his head to the other side, pawing at his whiskers. Erin - as in shop owner Erin?

[Lord Magtok]

Raril lets out a low growl in frustration. He was still angry, but the conniving drow could see the brutal logic in the Cyborg's plan. "Provoke them? Yeah, it'll get them to rally and go after him, eventually. Until then, He's got me playing hit man and doing tasks that are more suited for my brother. You know I'm getting the short end of the stick, here. If I do anything to hurt them, they'll come after me long before they get to him, and I don't dare refuse him. My sanity can't take it. Damn you, Magtok!" He snaps, letting go. "I was trying to stay away from this. I was trying to change, but now you've got me back to being a hired killer. You had better pray I can play this right. I had finally built up a tiny bit of happiness for myself, and if that gets ruined, you are the first one I'm coming after."

The Magtok who might not be Magtok takes care to hold that lead umbrella just right again. He still appears awfully unemotional about this whole state of affairs. He can't help but worry that Rabbit may've had a point after Melody died, that he possibly doesn't actually care about others at all, and this is all a big ego thing for himself.

If it's any comfort, after your wife'll outruns you, gets to me first, and tears off my jawbone with her bare hands, I'll probably have at least a few hours for you to do as you wish before I go back to Hell. More, if you've got any healing supplies at the time.

Now then, I've an important meeting to get ready for. If there's something else you'd like to say or a fist you'd care to introduce to the soft side of my face before we go, now's your chance.

[The Bushranger]

[EE]

Erin chuckles, and nods. That'd be me. Shop owner, happily married and proud mother of two daughters, and cheerfully chaotic netural.

[Dirk Kris]

EE
The ferret extends a tiny paw. Well then, I work for you. This nifty little thing... He pats at the pouch on his back. Was a little out of my budget. So I worked out a trade deal. I'm working it off. You're looking at your newish courier. He grins.

[The Bushranger]

[EE]

Erin laughs good-naturedly and carefully accepts the paw to shake. I bet you're pretty good at it, too. Nobody expects the ferret.

[Dirk Kris]

Or his bag of holding. And I'm not a thief - that's what made me the right man for the job - so to speak. His jaws crack in a ferretty yawn. Look, could you do me a solid and find me somewhere soft to sleep? I'm bushed.
((ruh-roh, the deadtimer is calling))

[Neon Knight]

[Jack's Penthouse]

Jack and Layla should arrive here.

[The Bushranger]

[EE]

Erin chuckles. Sure can. I've got a nice soft cushion in a basket right here. She sets it out in a quiet place for her muscaline courier to snooze in.