Difference between revisions of "Guerrilla Radio - RPLOG"
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| − | <div></div> | + | <div></div><br> <br>Pent lounges in the lobby, glancing around at the assorted people. Today was shaping up to be a reasonably boring day for the seemingly-human girl.<br> <br>What an annoying fellow, spamming innocent agents with various text messages on their communicators. "Now ya do what they told ya," it keeps spamming, over and OVER AND OVER until one finally blocks those messages for good. From all three factions comes a dispatch to the spammer's location where the group will rendezvous ASAP in order to investigate this rather strange disturbance. 94.9 FM Fairhaven Radio, a variety station from way back when, better days where radio waves filled the skies when their invisible splendor. However, considering the ruin and decay, the place has seen better days.<br> <br>Her day had been going well enough for the most part, the missions had been going smoothly, the ferals had lain in a puddle of their own messy entrails, and blood and the place Sara had been ordered to clear out for the scavengers had been emptied. "Sara Averith, heading out. Place is clear.." she states to the opened comm link to whoever had sent her as she walks on over to a ruined car-- atleast for the moment. A couple steps further and the illusion fades revealing a cbr 1000rr in still relatively good condition. "Heading home.. I expect a decent pay for this one.." she finishes before climbing onto the bike, and roaring off into the city. A couple blocks down and a loud song begins playing, atleast it's one line, over and over again. The act catches the ex-soldier off guard and sends her swerving for a moment, but luckilly not into anything. "What the hell was that?" she shouts over the music, hopefully getting to someone that could answer just that question. "God damn it's annoying! Stop!" she shouts again, holding her head, trying to block the noise from the internal comm-unit.<br> <br>Today was getting along nicely, no urgent need for samples meant that Pent could spend all day at the lobby, at least until the message spam and subsequent call to arms went out over the radio. But of course, actually responding was more a case of wanting to get out and do something rather than she had to. She stood a few buildings down from the radio station, all rugged up in her coat and awaiting whoever else turned up.<br> <br>Arriving at a dead out thruster assisted run, Cerris has cast stealth to the winds seeing as the culprit in this case clearly wasn't hiding himself. Cutting power shortly before reaching personal range of the others gathering and then gradualy coming in from jog to stroll. |
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| + | "Colonel Voss on the scene, commencing mission directive." | ||
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| + | His words are broadcasted both to the local area as well to his home base so CIC can't keep tabs on his progress and offer hints as required for his limited skill set.<br> <br>A recognizable pair of twins could be seen running from rooftop to rooftop, one just ahead, the other just behind following in sync with their twin. The two of them had been using their PDA as a kind of scanner, looking for any interesting broadcasts or messages that poped up. The only real danger being the occasonal airborne Feral.Today there was nothing, well untill the massive wave of nothing but one message. A good a lead as any, they decide to take off and head twoards the source.<br> <br>Edel saunters out of an alley and down the street towards the radio station, twirling a combination wrench on her finger as if it were a revolver. Being interrupted while working wasn't much of a big deal. Not like it was a pressing issue, anyway. She WAS, however, curious as to what the reasoning for the spam was, and, ever eager to indulge in her curiosity, it was only a matter of time before she found herself outside of the door.<br> <br>Flying in from above, a large and shiny solar dragon makes a perfect landing. His day had been very DULL for the most part, nothing really to do except poke around, and had been dealing with that text spam all goddamn day. When a location was finally broadcasted he dropped what he was doing and flew off towards the location as quickly as his wings would carry him. It was a radio station... for some reason, the message of 'Now ya do what they told ya' combined with a radio station triggered a faint memory, like something about it was familiar. Eh, he'll put it together later, for now he'd join the gathering party and find out who was broadcasting the message... and potentially get some phat lewts in the process! God did he miss video games...<br> <br>"W-wait u-up! Haa haaahh." Alastor called out to Arano. The dragon had just bolted and taken off from the Zephyr Lobby. Alastor had noticed the text spam, and decided to go along to see what this was about. He had recursed to wyvern form to fly and catch up, but his form was too big to fly much. He just had to jump and glide from building to building. By the time he caught up to Arano he was completely winded and his long tail was flailing about.<br> <br>Now that all the agents have arrived, there remains only one thing left to do! The building has certainly seen some better days. The once bold sign that declared to all passersby in a proud fashion "94.9 FM FAIRHAVEN RADIO" is now nothing more than a bleak mess, entire chunks missing from the letters and the brilliant luster taken away by grime and predatory nanites. Only four stories tall, each window is barred with the powers of iron, indicating that someone or a group of individuals have taken refuge inside. But beyond that... Silence. | ||
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| + | The two glass doors on the building's front beg for attention, allowing those around to peer inside if they desire. An ordinary lobby it seems to be, made to ensure the admiration of those interested in the radio station if they decided to visit. Unlike the outside of the building, the lobby seems much nicer by comparison, but the plague of dust and scattered furniture can't be ignored.<br> <br>Pent glances around at the assembled agents "Well, looks like we've got a veritable angry mob going on here." She laughs softly before stopping herself "Well, shall we head in?"<br> <br>Arano glances back to the tired wyvern and smiles guiltily, "Yah, sorry about that... don't know how I got so fast... practice I guess. And sorry about taking off so quickly, I'm really curious about what's going on here." He then glances towards the door and steps up closer, peering inside, looking around for any hint of traps or things of that nature, in response to Pent's comment the solar dragon remarks, "Not really angry, just curious..." as he looks he seems to be humming some half-remembered tune... damn it, how did that song go again?<br> <br>As soon as the text message had stopped, and the directions to the source of the disturbance found, the sound of squealing tires pours through the relatively empty streets as Sara turns in place and drives off towards the radio station. "Finally!" she states, still annoyed by whatever that was, a feeling that only gradually decreases as she drives through the streets and to the radio station. Eventually she arrives and notices she had not been alone, instead finding a few people, agents no doubt, waiting there. "Uh.. hi." she states as she gets off the motorcycle and sets the illusion up once more. "You all here for the same reason I'm guessing? Annoying text message and all that?" she soon just shrugs and looks to the glass doors, and the darkened hallways within. Noticing a large amount of dust settled down, and not willing to try anything, the ex-soldier reaches into her satchel and pulls a rebreather, quickly affixing it to her mouth before stepping past the threshold. "Song?" Sara asks as she walks, "What song?" | ||
Revision as of 08:34, 10 November 2013
Participants
Date
10/11/2013
Log
Pent lounges in the lobby, glancing around at the assorted people. Today was shaping up to be a reasonably boring day for the seemingly-human girl.
What an annoying fellow, spamming innocent agents with various text messages on their communicators. "Now ya do what they told ya," it keeps spamming, over and OVER AND OVER until one finally blocks those messages for good. From all three factions comes a dispatch to the spammer's location where the group will rendezvous ASAP in order to investigate this rather strange disturbance. 94.9 FM Fairhaven Radio, a variety station from way back when, better days where radio waves filled the skies when their invisible splendor. However, considering the ruin and decay, the place has seen better days.
Her day had been going well enough for the most part, the missions had been going smoothly, the ferals had lain in a puddle of their own messy entrails, and blood and the place Sara had been ordered to clear out for the scavengers had been emptied. "Sara Averith, heading out. Place is clear.." she states to the opened comm link to whoever had sent her as she walks on over to a ruined car-- atleast for the moment. A couple steps further and the illusion fades revealing a cbr 1000rr in still relatively good condition. "Heading home.. I expect a decent pay for this one.." she finishes before climbing onto the bike, and roaring off into the city. A couple blocks down and a loud song begins playing, atleast it's one line, over and over again. The act catches the ex-soldier off guard and sends her swerving for a moment, but luckilly not into anything. "What the hell was that?" she shouts over the music, hopefully getting to someone that could answer just that question. "God damn it's annoying! Stop!" she shouts again, holding her head, trying to block the noise from the internal comm-unit.
Today was getting along nicely, no urgent need for samples meant that Pent could spend all day at the lobby, at least until the message spam and subsequent call to arms went out over the radio. But of course, actually responding was more a case of wanting to get out and do something rather than she had to. She stood a few buildings down from the radio station, all rugged up in her coat and awaiting whoever else turned up.
Arriving at a dead out thruster assisted run, Cerris has cast stealth to the winds seeing as the culprit in this case clearly wasn't hiding himself. Cutting power shortly before reaching personal range of the others gathering and then gradualy coming in from jog to stroll.
"Colonel Voss on the scene, commencing mission directive."
His words are broadcasted both to the local area as well to his home base so CIC can't keep tabs on his progress and offer hints as required for his limited skill set.
A recognizable pair of twins could be seen running from rooftop to rooftop, one just ahead, the other just behind following in sync with their twin. The two of them had been using their PDA as a kind of scanner, looking for any interesting broadcasts or messages that poped up. The only real danger being the occasonal airborne Feral.Today there was nothing, well untill the massive wave of nothing but one message. A good a lead as any, they decide to take off and head twoards the source.
Edel saunters out of an alley and down the street towards the radio station, twirling a combination wrench on her finger as if it were a revolver. Being interrupted while working wasn't much of a big deal. Not like it was a pressing issue, anyway. She WAS, however, curious as to what the reasoning for the spam was, and, ever eager to indulge in her curiosity, it was only a matter of time before she found herself outside of the door.
Flying in from above, a large and shiny solar dragon makes a perfect landing. His day had been very DULL for the most part, nothing really to do except poke around, and had been dealing with that text spam all goddamn day. When a location was finally broadcasted he dropped what he was doing and flew off towards the location as quickly as his wings would carry him. It was a radio station... for some reason, the message of 'Now ya do what they told ya' combined with a radio station triggered a faint memory, like something about it was familiar. Eh, he'll put it together later, for now he'd join the gathering party and find out who was broadcasting the message... and potentially get some phat lewts in the process! God did he miss video games...
"W-wait u-up! Haa haaahh." Alastor called out to Arano. The dragon had just bolted and taken off from the Zephyr Lobby. Alastor had noticed the text spam, and decided to go along to see what this was about. He had recursed to wyvern form to fly and catch up, but his form was too big to fly much. He just had to jump and glide from building to building. By the time he caught up to Arano he was completely winded and his long tail was flailing about.
Now that all the agents have arrived, there remains only one thing left to do! The building has certainly seen some better days. The once bold sign that declared to all passersby in a proud fashion "94.9 FM FAIRHAVEN RADIO" is now nothing more than a bleak mess, entire chunks missing from the letters and the brilliant luster taken away by grime and predatory nanites. Only four stories tall, each window is barred with the powers of iron, indicating that someone or a group of individuals have taken refuge inside. But beyond that... Silence.
The two glass doors on the building's front beg for attention, allowing those around to peer inside if they desire. An ordinary lobby it seems to be, made to ensure the admiration of those interested in the radio station if they decided to visit. Unlike the outside of the building, the lobby seems much nicer by comparison, but the plague of dust and scattered furniture can't be ignored.
Pent glances around at the assembled agents "Well, looks like we've got a veritable angry mob going on here." She laughs softly before stopping herself "Well, shall we head in?"
Arano glances back to the tired wyvern and smiles guiltily, "Yah, sorry about that... don't know how I got so fast... practice I guess. And sorry about taking off so quickly, I'm really curious about what's going on here." He then glances towards the door and steps up closer, peering inside, looking around for any hint of traps or things of that nature, in response to Pent's comment the solar dragon remarks, "Not really angry, just curious..." as he looks he seems to be humming some half-remembered tune... damn it, how did that song go again?
As soon as the text message had stopped, and the directions to the source of the disturbance found, the sound of squealing tires pours through the relatively empty streets as Sara turns in place and drives off towards the radio station. "Finally!" she states, still annoyed by whatever that was, a feeling that only gradually decreases as she drives through the streets and to the radio station. Eventually she arrives and notices she had not been alone, instead finding a few people, agents no doubt, waiting there. "Uh.. hi." she states as she gets off the motorcycle and sets the illusion up once more. "You all here for the same reason I'm guessing? Annoying text message and all that?" she soon just shrugs and looks to the glass doors, and the darkened hallways within. Noticing a large amount of dust settled down, and not willing to try anything, the ex-soldier reaches into her satchel and pulls a rebreather, quickly affixing it to her mouth before stepping past the threshold. "Song?" Sara asks as she walks, "What song?"
