RPR Archive The RPF Adoptions Game: DANGER ROOM - Scenario 3 now playing!

Stuart E. K Reardon, Esq

Stuart looked up as the butler, the man who'd invited him here in the first place, spoke up. He listened gloomily to the account of Jimmy Horn's death. So it was true. Jimmy, gone after all these years. Stuart contrived to look as melancholy as possible. Truth be told, he was only here because it was a job, and a job meant money. Money which could keep him in his lodgings, and he hoped, comfortably inebriated until his book finally got itself written.


"So ... are there any questions before we begin?"

Ah, oppurtunity. Stuart raised a hand.

"I say, over here?" he cleared his throat and straightened his tie. "Erherm, sorry about old Jimmy and all that, but, will there be financial reward if we catch said miscreant, wot?"

[TAG Butler, others]

 

IC: Mac
Location: In the Foyer

Dude.... those two Sherlocks were mighty cranky...

The first guy offered a hand... some Quincy Shackleford or whatever...

"Quincy eh?" Mac said. "Awesome name. With the Q and all.... ain't many of those around, let me tell you."

There were other folks coming in. Some chicks and a dude or two...

The other Sherlock Holmes guy raised his cane at his chest...

"You, my young rascal, need to wipe that smile off your face before you wear out your cheekbones. What a good life you'd live then, hmm? And didn't you read the sign out front? No headphones?"

"Dude, I totally did not see that. My bad." Mac said, still keeping his smile but removing his phones. "And chill out Mr. Holmes. Trick to life is to just go with the flow, my good fellow. Seriousness is just nothing but negative energies. Bad for the zen."

A butler came in and gave some long spiel about his how someone got murdered or whatever. Woah. Crazy days it seemed. Like an episode of CSI.

Mac always wanted to be on that show...

Maybe he was...

Dude! That would explain how he got here! Ain't Hollywood freakin' grand?

He raised his hand to the butler after some British chap muttered something.

"Uno questionay by me good sir. I must have missed my script. Can I borrow yours? Or... get a reprint... or somethin?"

TAG: I'm so crazy . Whoever wants it

 

Aislynn smiled at the man.

"I suppose I shall. I already snapped a picture of the letter."

The butler entered and gave further instructions. The the questions began. Aislynn didn't know what to make of her companions for the next while, but she was beginning to get a bead on two of them. One seemed to be a money is what matters person and the other obviously was clueless as to what was going on. He said something about a script. Weird.

Aislynn decided she should document those in attendance. So she snapped off a shot of the butler and then went around to take a mug shot of each person. Through her life she had found out that you can tell a lot about a person by flashing a camera in their face.

Tag: KILIK and EVERYONE

 

GM IC - The Butler

Harold sighed as the first question was asked.

"Yes, yes. There will be a reward. That reminds me ... I still have a bill to pay" he mumbled to himself.

"Uno questionay by me good sir. I must have missed my script. Can I borrow yours? Or... get a reprint... or somethin?"

"Ahh," he suddenly smiled, "Mac is it? That's right ... I've been looking forward to ... well, maybe I'll explain it later," a frown soon followed, "And I'm not really sure what you mean by a ... script?"

tag: All

 

OOC: you have sparked my interest kart. i'm looking forward to this.


Name: Josh McDougle
Gender: male
Age: 24
Species: Human
Homeworld: New Hampshire
Affiliation (or lack there of): Is an independently wealthy playboy.
Personality
---Traits: Eccentric, Speaks with an Olde English accent, thinks of himself as something of a comic, suave and charming.
---Likes: Is a music addict, likes pizza, and beautiful women
---Dislikes: Stupidity
---Habits: Has too much intelligence to grasp a real world situation sometimes.
Appearance
---Skin Color: Tanned
---Hair Color: Dark brown
---Eye Color: Ice blue
---Clothing: Wears tailored blue jeans, comfortable tennis shoes and a polo shirt.
---Other Attributes: Athletic as only the wealthy are (not really in otherwords, but appears to be), 5?11, 195 pounds.
---Other Details: He has a diamond stud in his left ear.
Weapons: He always carries a switchblade in his right hand pocket.
Biography:
---Personal History: He grew up in a wealthy family and never had to do much of anything other than what he please. He has little appreciation for real work, and this shows in his attitude. He recently graduated college after studying olde English, and the way it is spoken fascinated him.



IC: Josh McDougle/ Outside the Mansion

He had just arrived, his appointment with Jimmy past due by 20 minutes. How in the world did I end up this late? Traffic wasn't that bad. He walked up the granite steps to the mansion. There were obviously several people here, that was obvious from the footprints on the portico.

He rang the doorbell. And here I was led to think t'was supposed to be a private meeting. Oh well. He stood and waited for someone to answer the door.

TAG KART

 

Quincy P. Shackleford

Quincy chuckled appreciatively. This Mac, he wasn't who appeared to be. This was no mere beach-bum.

As the butler answered Mac's question, Quincy decided he had one of his own.

"Excuse me, sir, but is there any clue as to the manner in which Jimmy-" Quincy said the name with more than a little difficulty. It was just so... common. "-was, dare I say it, murdered?"

This was the most plausible explanation for the man's unexplained death, and Quincy was no stranger to it. Once, in Singapore... Nevermind. That was far too long of a story to think about now.

Tag: Mac, the Butler

 

IC: Matt Masters


In one of them of the rooms.



Matt looked at Aislynn as she took pic after pic.


"Wow she loves to take those, Matt thought letting a grin show.

After a few seconds he hard the word money.

"Money sure would good right now, Matt that in plan tone. I could use for the band, but I've got to check this place out first.

He looked up at Aislynn as she was makeing here way around.

Matt took out a note book, he had never drawen anyone, but some of his tatoos looked like people that he had drawen before.

He got a pencil and started drewing anything to get an idea.

He wasn't quit sure what to drew, but he had learned for a friend to just keep your hands busy.

Tag. Anyone.

 

Brenna

Brenna stared on as the Butler droned on about the dead man. Someone he kept referring to as poor,poor Jimmy. Hmmm a murder eh? And she was suppoded to help solve it? Well alright that should be fun. She stared around her at the odd array of people. And her eyes landed on another redhead who was snapping photographs. This girl may come in useful, she seemed to be detail oriented. Brenna turned sharply as she heard a bell ring, another oddball for this group? Just as she was turning back she whacked smartly into a broad chest she believed it was the man Quincey "whoops!" she said as she reeled back.

Tag: Quincey, anyone

 

Quincy P. Shackleford

Before the Butler could reply, a young woman bumped into Quincy.

"Whoops!" She reeled back, looking up at Quincy, for, indeed, he was quite a tall man.

He reached out with his righ hand, turning from the Butler for a moment, to help re-gain her lost balance.

"I'm dreadfully sorry, Madam, It was all my fault."

One of Quincy's personal rules was that it is never the lady's fault. He took her hand, taking this oppurtunity to introduce himself, and held it gently in front of him, like any good Englishman should, and bowed slightly. "Quincy P. Shackleford, pleased to meet your acquaintance."

Tag: Brenna

 

Name: Trenton Banner
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Species: Human
Homeworld: Earth
Affiliation: Banner Private Investigating
Personality
---Traits: Loves to joke, always making a wisecrack
---Likes: Guns, money, his job, dogs
---Dislikes: Sloppy criminals, "Dick" jokes, kids
---Habits: Drinking, Define "Chain smoking"
Appearance
---Skin Color: Light
---Hair Color: Somewhere between light and dark brown
---Eye Color: Brown
---Clothing: Black slacks, button down shirt and vest, black duster "trenchcoat", black hat
---Other Attributes: Stockily built and 5'10" tall
---Other Details: Perpetual five o-clock shadow
Weapons: .38 Special on his right ankle, butterfly knife, hand cuffs
Biography:
---Personal History: Born and raised in Chicago, Trent grew up in a military family. His father was in the army, mother in the reserves. He decided against the military, and instead became a police officer. He quickly abandoned the job to create his own detective agency.

One dark and stormy night, while Trenton was sitting alone in his office with a flask and his thoughts, he got an anonymous call. They gave him directions to the mansion. The caller said a murder had taken place. Trent grabbed his had and jacket, and was out the door, tucking the flask into his coat pocket.

OOC: The Sleuth!

Trenton Banner
Mansion Foyer

The rain is calling murder.

Trenton looked up at the ceiling, listening to the dull thrumming of the storm intently. He loved the rain, even as much as he hated getting soaked. He tapped the pack of reds against the palm of his other hand, smoothly snatching a smoke out of it and moving it to his lips. He blocked the cigarette with one hand after slipping the pack into his coat pocket. He lit up, taking two long drags before surveying the scene, listening as The Butler rambled on.

My mystery caller wasn't lying. There was a murder.

Trent tipped his hat back, watching as a woman took pictures of almost everything. His police training almost kicked in, which would have forced him to stop her and confiscate the camera. But he wasn't a beat cop anymore. He was a private investigator.

"Not like the money's much better." Banner mumbled, taking another drag of his cigarrete.

Trent planned on sorting out the mystery behind the murder. If not for the pay, then for the principle of it. He didn't become what he was for money. He would have been a dirty lawyer if that was the plan.

Tag: Any who take it

OOC-2: Imperial_Hammer has what I predict to be the most comically entertaining character of the group

 

IC: Josh McDougle

Having stood outside for what he considered far too long he tried the door. Pleasantly it opened. He went in, his shoes making a squleching noise as he walked in, shaking the rain from his overcoat. Bloody noise. Why do shoes make that noise everytime they get wet? He growled in frustration.

As he walked down the entrance hall he heard voices, and a camera. He heard most of the conversation, the thing that sparked his interest the most was that Jimmy was dead. Figures the scum'd get out talking to me. I really needed that information too. He sighed as he entered the room and saw the smoker. Filthy habit, he has to be the token private investegator here. There were several other people standing around, one a redheaded woman. She was the one with the camera. This could get interesting, a photohappy woman. Lovely. He thought sarcastically.

He went over to the beach bummish looking guy and just stood there, listening to what was going on. He had no questions for the moment. However, he was curious about what the beach bum, Mac he thought the butler had said, was doing here. "What doth thou happen to be doing, Mac ist it not?" his voice smarmy in the extreme. He watched to see what his way of speaking would illicit by way of reaction.

TAG: I_H, ANYONE ELSE

 

Name: Doctor Rodney McKay
Gender: Male
Age: ??
Species: Human
Homeworld: Earth, Canada
Affiliation: Stargate Command. Atlantis expedition, Pegasus galaxy
Personality
---Traits: Self-obsessed. Loves blonde women, especially Colonel Samantha Carter of SG-1. Can be brave in short bursts, but outside purely scientific situations, always fears the worst.
Eg. not just the glass is half empty, but it wasn?t his glass in the first place, and belonged to that big Wraith that has just come back from the loo.
---Likes: People who worship his genius, and give him room to work; anyone who he can talk his ideas over with, and will ideally take a bullet for him.
---Dislikes: People who ignore his self-evident brilliance, and then expect his to shi?err?defecate miracles.
---Habits: Thinking aloud, rushing headlong with ideas, interrupting people with own thoughts
Appearance
---Skin Color: Causasian
---Hair Color: Brown
---Eye Color: Brown
---Clothing: Brown and blue uniform jacket and trousers, blue short sleeve t-shirt. Jacket has Canadian flag patch on right shoulder, and an SG Atlantis patch on the other.
---Other Attributes: Carries a small hand-held sensor and a wooden rod that he can attach it to. Refers to it as a ?MALP on a stick?. A MALP is a wheeled probe device that his organisation use as an extraterrestrial probe.
---Other Details:
Weapons: Zat. Alien weapon that fires electrical blasts. One shot stuns. Automatic handgun. Sometimes he can shoot it rather efficiently, sometimes he?ll jettison the ammo clip unintentionally. Never can tell.
Biography:
---Personal History:

Spent several years in the subterranean Area 51 facility researching the stargate and other alien artefacts.
Has been to Russia to help them install and build their own Naquata reactors, and is currently assigned to a human expedition based at Atlantis, a water-bound city on some waterworld in the Pegasus galaxy.
By virtue of his job, is fairly used to the idea of being transported to alternate dimensions.

---

[b]IC: Dr McKay[/b], [i]whatever room we are in[/i]

Behind the gathered guests, and near the wall, a bright light appears, accompanied by a humming sound, and when it just as quickly fades, a uniformed individual walks out of it, still in animated conversation with whoever he was talking to before arriving. His tone is typically sarcastic and scathing.

?"Oh yeah, when we weren't out on harrowing missions, we used to hang out together. I'd share my dreams of self-sustaining fusion, he would talk about how you could sever a man's torso with a P-90."

Then he notices something is awry, grimacing and rolling his eyes as he takes in his new surroundings.

?Oh wait? what the hell is this? Where is everyone? Major Sheppard? Ger-[i]reat[/i].?

[b]Tag: anyone present[/b]

 

Stuart E.K Reardon

"Yes, yes. There will be a reward. That reminds me ... I still have a bill to pay"

"Splendid!" Stuart nearly rubbed his hands together withglee, but stopped himself just in time. Not really the done thing to get overtly excited about wealth. If his father hadn't cut of his inheritance he wouldn't even be in this mess. Had Giselle really been worth it? Probably not. She was most likely halfway to Mexico by now.

His trip down memory lane was diverted by the smell of tobacco nearby. Stuart had given up smoking to save money, but it was terribly difficult. You couldn't really get the muse going without the proper amount of tobacco. He turned to the unshaven gentleman next to him and gave the man his best smile.

"Can I trouble you for a cigarette?"

[TAG Trenton Banner]

 

IC:Brenna McKnight

Brenna stifled a giggle at the stuffy tones of the man Quincey. Hmmm a gentlemen eh? She vigorously shook his hand and gave him a brilliant smile "No problem, even though it was technically my fault as I bumped into you. But I'm willing to let you take the blame." She gave him a wink and fought te urge to start rubbing her neck, she had to crane it just to have a look at his face. She was quite a small girl and he was quite tall. She turned her head to get a look at the new comers. This was getting curiouser and curiouser.

TAG: Quincey, anyone

 

IC: McKay

Rodney ignored the others for the moment while he patted down the nearest walls for some sign of how he had entered this place.
He would probably continue to do so until someone spoke to him.

Tag: anyone

 

IC: Kenneth Q. Jameson III

Kenneth didn't get a chance to interact with the two younger gents and the older man before the butler came in and interupted them. He said something about investigating a murder. Kenneth didn't pay close attention. It wasn't something that interested him too greatly. He had asked for questions. Kenneth chuckled to himself. Most of the times when someone asked a question, Kenneth would reply with a simple "no, but I have the answer".

He turned his head to survey the room, to see the reactions to others at the news, and the call for questions. He gently and pensively stroked his chin. Quickly, someone broke the silence. It was the young punk who reminded him a bit of his grandson. He spoke with absolutely no respect and in a very ... disturbing manner ... very distrubing to Kenneth.

"Uno questionay by me good sir. I must have missed my script. Can I borrow yours? Or... get a reprint... or somethin?"


Kenneth had to swallow his tongue, to avoid snapping at the young punk in public. That would not look good for either of them. He made a mental note to be sure to pull him aside later, and tell him he needed to do a better job of showing the upbringing his parents gave him. In the meantime, Kenneth moved himself a bit closer to the young punk, close enough that he could smack him on the back of his head if he made another rude and idiotic statement. He looked at him and gave him a "fatherly look" of displeasure, hoping that might be enough to get him to calm down.

Tag: Hammer, others

 

OOC: This is why I love doing this stuff.... folks' reactions...

Look for posts hopefully tonight, back home for the weekend which really cramps my style dude...

-I_H

 

Quincy P. Shackleford

Quincy smiled inwardly. He knew that many viewed him as a prim and proper Englishman, but Quincy knew otherwise. His hobbies and interests were far too broad in scope for him to become an old man. Hunting, boating, exploring, these were some of his favourite past-times.

He liked to lull others into thinking he was a clumsy, quiet, and stuffy young man, especially the women. Then, when other rivals showed up to take them from Quincy, he'd let his full talent show, and humiliate the arrogant suitors.

It was a lot of effort, but in the long run, it was worth it.

Tag: Anyone, Brenna

 

IC:Brenna

Brenna looked coyly at the man Quincey, he wasn't bad looking and since he was a bookish sort he might be able to help her track down the killer and get the reward and the story. Brenna was affable and liked to joke but when it came down to it she could be all business. She looked to the butler wondering when they were going to start the great search, her little hands were just itching to start pawing around for clues.

TAG:Quincey, Butler, Anyone

 

OOC: Now to get this all into something workable...

IC: Mac
Location: The Mansion Foyer

Mac smiled wide as he waited for an answer from the butler. He's probably, like, the main actor on the movie. Or maybe the director? Those dudes always like to find a way into their movies.

"Ahh," the butler suddenly smiled, "Mac is it? That's right ... I've been looking forward to ... well, maybe I'll explain it later," a frown soon followed, "And I'm not really sure what you mean by a ... script?"

Mac raised his brow. Woah. The butler dude knew Mac's name already. That was a mite bit creepy if you asked him. And what was he looking forward to? As to the question for what a script was, Mac simply replied...

"Ah, no worries dude. I get whats going on here. I'll keep it 'real'" he said with a big wink-wink.

Reality shows. How could he have been so dumb. Of course! And that would explain all the people from all over the place here.

Mr. Q then asked about how the dude Jimmy was killed, all sleuthy and like. Which was awesome. Fits the mood very well.

Suddenly some tall preppy dude bumped into him and started chattering away in Olde English.

"Woah woah, hombre" Mac said, putting up his hands defensively. "Slow it on down. I don't understand British. Now, try again noble dude, easy on the thous and thees."

Mac noticed some grumpy looking guy in his periphery but gave it no heed. All negative energy. He so didn't need that right now, not with him being on TV and all.

Mac just needed to keep his eyeballsies on the two gents that creeped him out. The Butler and the Shakespearian dude. The others seemed A-OK so far.

TAG: Come one, come all

 

Trenton Banner
Mansion Foyer

"Can I trouble you for a cigarette?" Giving the man near him a sideways glance, Trent casually pulled the crumpled pack out of his pocket once more. He tapped it against his wrist, a single smoke popping slightly out of the opening.

"You shouldn't smoke. These things will kill you." Trent said with a smirk, taking a deep drag off of his own.

He glanced away then, making sure to keep his eyes always moving.

"Slow it on down. I don't understand British. Now, try again noble dude, easy on the thous and thees." A young "free-spirit" carried on near him, and Trent almost widened his smile.

Kid's these days. He probably has no idea what was going on. Got high and just wandered off, most likely. Fell into a group of people coming into this house and followed them in.

Taking another drag, Trent realized his smokes wouldn't last too long. He'd have to procure another pack.

Tag- Livi, Hammer-time

OOC- That's one of the best things about character building. I wish I hadn't missed most of the first scenario because of disabled computers. I have a feeling that Tec Lec the Ewok Thief will return in later installations, however.

 

OOC: i'm one of the two creepy dudes?[face_grins]

IC: Josh McDougle/ Scenario 2: The Mansion


"Woah woah, hombre" Mac said, putting up his hands defensively. "Slow it on down. I don't understand British. Now, try again noble dude, easy on the thous and thees."

Josh sighed when he heard this. Figures he wouldn't be able to understand a word I said. Guess I'll have to do it... at least for this character.

"All I said was, how are you and the names Mac, right? I'm assuming that's a bit more... palatable to your tastes?" This time he had a basic accent... or what would be considered a lack of accent, as he spoke. It's incredibly sad when people lose they command of the olde language, but it appears that Mac has indeed done so.

He looked over at the older man who had joined them, and appraised him. Dressed in a three piece suit, complete with purple tie, he knew the sort. Especially since he had the look of the south on him, despite the suit. Or mayhaps it was because]/i] of the suit. I'd bet he's one of those bible toting, family wealth, bluebloods who can't stand most people. Guess I can find out rather easily. He held out his hand to the man and said, "How art thou? I ist Josh McDougle, tis a true pleasure to make thee's acquaintance Mr..." He paused so the man could fill in his name.

Having seen a flash of light and a guy appear... he wasn't sure what to make of it, he was dressed in a military style outfit, but of some branch that he had never seen. The Canadian patch on the shoulder more than likely explained that. He had no clue what the other patch was though. He wasn't really sure what to make of the guy... he seemed to be rather distracted for whatever reason.

TAG I_H, DI, SITH_I_5 if he wants it, anyone else who cares to join.

 

Stuart E.K Reardon

"You shouldn't smoke. These things will kill you."

"If I'm lucky." Stuart replied ruefully, instering the cigarette into his mouth and lighting it with a match. He took a drag andf looked around at the man who'd given the cigarette to him.

"So, I'm guessing you're some sort of detective chappie, am I right?"

[TAG Trenton]

 

Trenton Banner
Mansion Foyer

"So, I'm guessing you're some sort of detective chappie, am I right?"

Trent smiled, holding his smoke casually between two fingers.

"As long as chappie isn't a derogatory term, you guessed right."

The Private Investigator rubbed the bridge of his nose, following the butler with his eyes. Hopefully the man would be alone for long enough for Trenton to get a moment to speak with him. It would help him get to the bottom of the homocide more quickly.

Tag- Livi, Butler

 

IC: Kenneth Q. Jameson

Kenneth smacked his forehead. There was no point, at this point in time, trying to rationalize with the young boy. He was clearly attention starved and idiotic. He wasn't worth risking a heart attack on. Kenneth decided to move to the back of the room, far away from the punk. He found a nice section of the wall to lean on and folded his arms. He looked around for someone ... well ... sensible to talk with.

Tag: Any