Creature heads off with the rest of the motley band of misfits to take the Green Line towards Queensth Tower. If he sees a pizza place along the way he'll will pick up a couple slices.
Max
Creature sets off for the Green Line even as the whirring vocaphone powers down, and the rest of you follow. The sturdy 'Stein pauses only long enough to grab a king-sized slice of pizza from a robodroid pushcart (today's special: jerk chicken with tealeaf and vinegar spices) before hopping onto a Sky-Bulb headed northeast toward Queen's Tower.
Rondo
On the way Buck recounts his conversation. "Well, which one of us is gonna be a damned Human Knight of Ooogy-boogy? Gee, tough choice..." he says looking around at his band of wooky-ape-frankie-droogs...."Nice. How the hell did I get in this mess? All I wanna do is make some money, now I'm playing the husband of who or WHAT I don't know, to a 'woman' I've never seen, with a lisping, hair-lipped son.....real nice."
Dr Rotwang!
"I'll tell her I had an accident."
Rondo
"Yea! No, offense, but you better hope she's got some wild tastes there, my midget donkey friend!" Buck grins and rubs Quazzer on the noggin.
[First round of hurricanes was nothing....this one looks like it might be rough, so you guys will know what's going on if i can't post...should be over by the time the weekend ends..]
Dr Rotwang!
"Sir," Quazarn snaps, "if we are to have a successful adventuring partnership, you will kindly keep your hands off my head."
Max
[Indeed. That's how slashfic happens, Rondo ]
wulfgar
[So says the conehead making groping gestures and jumping in people's laps!!]
Rondo
Buck grins at Quazarn, "I'm just ribbing you bud, relax."
Max
The Bulb door slam-bangs shut behind the four of you, and with a grunt the dwarf tram-smith releases the brake. After a grinding lurch and a shower of electro-magic sparks your convoy of Sky Bulbs ascends along its guidewire to the tramway above.
[I've got the day off, and after I go get a damn haircut I'll be back and able to post as substantially as needed. If anybody has anything they want to do before getting on the Green Line feel free to chime in now.
[A few other notes:
[Sadly Gorgo Ubar's trance was but the first symptom of Degenerative Aura Contamination, and he has succumbed to Astral Peristalsis, swallowed up by unknown extra-dimensional forces. None can say whether he'll be seen again....
[JM note: I'm relying on you players to keep an accounting of your wealth at least adequate for horseshoes & hand grenades. Unless I tell you differently for a given purchase, let's keep it stupid, simples, and say everything costs 1 GC.]
Max
The Sky Bulb convoy slides easily along tramway, rising to each anchor post and sinking again as it passes, trailing arcanostatic all the while.
There's a short wait for the intersecting Blue Line to clear the interchange and you have a moment to take in the sprawling vista of God City, from the nosecone shacks and jet booster tenements of the Rocket Town slums to the mossy palaces out past the Elvesbeard Heights. The rooftops and streets below, lit with the red and gold light of late afternoon, look like the rough sketches of a city planner with amnesia. Half-built skyscrapers jut from the stone fortifications of Dwarven Delve. Nearby a terraced hive of evolved apes shadows a meadow of cave hobling burrows. A few streets beyond, Gypsy Haints have set up a ghost carnival in the rubble of a leveled city block. In the far distant hills glowers the unfinished Viraxis Pyramid, its upper floors still blackened from the fires of the Boxcar Rebellion.
wulfgar
Creature rides standing, holding onto one of the poles in the middle of the car. His other hand is nonchalantly at the hilt of his black hole metal riot baton, as he keeps his eyes open for pickpockets or cannibalistic hobos.
Rondo
Buck, being ever germ conscious, keeps his gloves on, and eyes peeled for the same. I might point out that he keeps his .38 "cross-draw" style on the holster under his left arm...he's keeping the snap down on that for sure, and watching distances for any knuckleheads in his breathing space.
Max
As it turns out you have the Bulb mostly to yourselves, save for a sleepy orgoyle 1 nodding over the day's broadsheet. Buck spots neither germs nor knuckleheads.
The Sky Bulb sways as the Green Line continues on, and you soon arrive at your stop. Queens Tower is just a few blocks away, a six story spire in the high Galactic Medieval style. White pennants and flags bearing a purple crown on a field argent 2 hang from the battlements.
Rondo
Buck starts looking for a little store of some sort, "Aw nerts! I forgot to get the hair-lipped kid some kind of gift! Maybe I'll just give him my 'Hobling Army Knife.' Every kid wants one of those.....kid will probably turn out to be 42 years old and living in the basement."
Max
It's a fairly swank residential neighborhood, so there's a few classy restaurants and the kind of corner bar where the tables are so clean and glossy you can almost see your reflection in the wood grain. But no shops to be seen.
Dr Rotwang!
"No matter!" Quazarn beams. "Any random piece of crap will do. Lest we all forget," he says conspiratorially, "...I am a warlock."
1 Dear Dave Hargrave: I love you, man.
2 In true scientific fashion I did no research on heraldry -- or castles for that matter. Do not seek to trouble me with facts.
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