SWRPF Archive Holo Fiction

Welcome to the first RPG inspired by such gangster films as Quentin Tarantino's "Pulp Fiction" and Guy Ritchie's "Snatch". Set on the streets of Coruscant, in all the hives of scum and villany that abound. The time setting, no more than 2 years before the events of TPM.
And the characters? This game is all about criminals, gangsters and other low-lifes. It's about stealing stones and... dodgy deals, hunting bounties, smuggling illicit goods, etc.
There will not be a single main storyline. I'll try and work as many different "missions" in as I can. We'll see how things go. Feel free to try and "explore" the world around you, I will try to reward players who roleplay.

Expect reference to various movies, especially noir/gangster movies, and expect liberal use of the word kriff.

Now for those who are interested it's time to get down and dirty. Here's what you'll need.

Name:
Species:
Gender:
Appearance:
Starting Weapon: (You can only begin with a blaster pistol.)
Bio/Other: (Any extra information about your character. Personality traits, background, hates, desires, addictions, etc..)

Everyone starts on Coruscant. I may include storylines that spread to other worlds later in the game.

And now, onto the first main story...

---

ONE STORY...
[blockquote]ABOUT THREE STORYS...[/blockquote]
[b]PULP[/b] (pulp) n.
1. A soft, moist, shapeless mass or matter.
2. A magazine or book containing lurid subject matter and being characteristically stored on cheap, disposable datacards.

[hr]
[b]Location: Hooper McFinney's Bar and Grille[/b]
The bar is filled with a motley assortment of patrons, many are preoccupied with their own conversations to even notice the human male that enters the bar and makes his way over to a lone Rodian in a dimly lit booth.

"I'm glad you could make it, I almost thought you weren't going to turn up," the Rodian grinned and took a sip from his drink.

The human chuckled, "Then let's get down to business. I understand your boss has a job for me?"

"Yes, he's been quite interested in getting you for some time now."

"Well, I'm the best at what I do!"

"That's what the last one said." The Rodain paused, pulling a small datacard from a pocket and placing it on the table. "I'll be at Falker Towers tomorrow. Be there around midday, give me a call and I'll take you to meet him."

The Rodian finished off his drink and left the glass on the table. He stood up and headed out of the bar into the night. The man picked up the datacard and turned it over in his fingers a few times before pocketing it safely away. He looked towards the bar, but the Rodian was gone.

 

Name: Manuel-Jaque (Jaque Pronounced:Jack)
Species: Ongree, Like Pablo-Jill
Gender: Male
Appearance: Typical Ongree Apearence, with heavy body-armor, and Bounty Hunter Gear, About 6'10', with Green Eyes.
Starting Weapon: AR-15 9mm Shell Blaster
Bio/Other: Born on Ongree, Manuel-Jaque became Very Violent At The Age Of 12, And Proceded To Murder His Parents Because They Had Prices On Their Heads. Manuel-Jaque is Now 22.

*Manuel had overheard the man's conversation with the rodian, and needless to say, being a bounty hunter, he wanted in. He approached the man unnoticed and pressed his pistol to the mans head, then the man heard the click of the gun he tried to turn around, but the Orgree slamed his head down on the table*

"Seems as I have overheared your conversation" Said Manuel violently as he slammed the mans head down on the bar, he was begining to draw attention to himself, he wanted to get out without killing the man because he knew that then the bar would erupt in gun fire. "I want in you damn hooklicker!"

OOC: This Sounds Fun, But Hooper McFinney's Bar and Grille isn't really a star warsie name, also what is this "Mans" name?

-Yoda

 

A few things before I get into reply mode. Thanks to a PM from Coota, your starting weapon can now be a slugthrower pistol if you don't want to take a blaster pistol.

Also, I should have made this clear before, no body armour and minimal accessories. The idea is you're all on the bottom rung of the ladder, so to speak.

I don't see how Hooper McFinney's Bare and Grille isn't StarWars-ish... Maube if I called it Hooper's Holo-Bar is would be... and what about names like Dex's Diner, The Outlander Nightclub, Watto's Scrap Yard... they might sound SW-y because we know they exist in the SW universe, but really, all could very easily exist in the real world... I mean diners, nightclubs and scrap yards weren't exactly made-up by Lucas now were they..
As for the man's name, well, you don't know the man, so you don't know his name, maybe if you asked next time

On to the story:

Location: Hooper McFinney's

The man coughed and spluttered a little, the wind had been knocked out of him when his head hit the table.

"Alright," he gasped, "you want in? I'll let you in."

Immediately he brought his elbow back, hitting Manuel under the chin. Taking advantage of the situation he spun around and kicked the Ongree in the chest before pulling a small blaster rifle from inside his jacket. He held a HardTek PB-9 Personal Defence Weapon, with an EL-2 light grenade launcher attached to it. Things were definately getting out of hand, but the man tried to keep it all together.

"Alright everybody, stay cool!"

He looks across the bar to a young woman by herself in one of the other booths. She'd been there in case things had gotten rough with the Rodian. She was already getting into action though, after this unexpected turn of events. Standing up on her table she draws two modified E-11 Blaster Pistols,

"If any of you kriffing wang's move, I'll execute every bantha-kriffing last one of you!"

 

Name: Marlowe
Species: Feorian
Gender: Male
Appearance: A large, heavily muscled Feorian, like many of his species, Terson dresses well, but low key. He always wears a slightly rumpled suit and a black fedora. This contrasts slightly with his dark green body and tentacles, but no one has brought it to his attention yet. His trusty .50 Morellian Combine slugthrower is carried in a shoulder holster under his armpit. His eyes are a light blue. He stands at 6'3, though his bulk makes him appear slightly taller.
Starting Weapon: .50 Morellian Combine Slugthrower
Bio/Other: Marlowe is surprisingly subtle for a Feorian; he can actually ask questions and find people without destroying too many buildings. These skills served him well in the Republic Security Forces, but he left when he realized how corrupt they were becoming. They only lived to serve the rich, and he felt that if he was going to end up working for the rich, he might as well get paid for it.

Now he works as a Private Detective, solving the problems of both rich and poor, whoever has the credits. He'll find people, protect people, solve murders, cover up scandals and all around handle situations.

He's good at what he does, but he has just started operating on Coruscant, getting a feel for the place...

-----

The woman standing in front of him was pretty, by human standards, but Marlowe wasn't the type to go for human women. Women in general were pretty dangerous, actually, which was probably why he had never tried finding any Feorian women, either. Not that that would be easy, exactly; with only six million Feorians left in the galaxy, it wasn't a walk in the park to set up a blind date.

As it was, the woman here wasn't romantically interested. She wanted a job done. If she wanted it done fast, and quiet, she had come to the right place.

"You want me to find this man for you?" Marlowe asked, looking at the datapad she had given him.

"Oh, yes. He's run off with my sister, and I *do* fear they will elope together. That would be *horrible* for the family! Father would just die!"

She was lying, no doubt about it. She wanted the man for something else, and it didn't have anything to do with her sister, if she had a sister. But Marlowe didn't ask questions. That's why he got jobs.

"Alright, but it's gonna cost you. Two hundred credits now, twenty credits a day, plus expenses."

"I'd be happy to," she replied, taking out two hundred credit pieces. This was why he wasn't asking questions. There was no need to, when cold, hard credits were involved.

"I'll get right on it. You got a place where I can reach you?"

"Oh, yes, here's my com number. I'll keep in touch with you."

"And I'll keep my bill in touch with you. I'll get right on this, ma'am."

Marlowe nodded to her as she left, and then laughed his booming, Feorian laugh. That had been too easy! Two hundred credits, plus twenty credits a day, just to find some guy who was probably lying in the gutter somewhere. It was likely that all he'd have to do in this case was head over to Hooper's or the Outlander Club and ask a couple questions while putting a few ten credit pieces down.

Nice and easy.

He got off his seat, stood up and grabbed his pistol out from under the desk. He then walked over to the coatrack, where his overcoat, fedora and shoulder holster all rested. A few moments later he was suited up and ready to head towards the Coruscant underground. At the very least, the nightlife would be interesting...

 

Name: Kiara M'iadi
Species: Lorrdian
Gender: Female
Appearance: 5'9", curly blond hair, slate-blue eyes
Starting Weapon: Blaster pistol
Bio/Other: a hired killer with an itchy trigger finger, kiara is all for the sniper rifles. she loves her job and relishes the kill.

Hooper McFinney's

Kiara slid into the booth and looked at the man across from her. Or is it even a man? The figure was shrouded in a black cloak, and it's voice was purely mechanical.

"I have a job for you, Kiara M'iadi."

"I figured that one out," she replied, eager to get the job and go. This creature was making her itchy, something no other being had done.

"His name is Jijah. He has shamed the family name. I want him disposed of."

Family name? Good Force, he's getting me to kill his son! She swallowed. "The price will be steep."

"I am prepared to pay." He paused, reaching under his cloak. He brought out several credit chips. "I will pay 500 in advance, and 6500 upon delivery of his body."

She sucked on her teeth. He was paying a lot of money for a simple kill. He was hiding something. Pocketing the 500, she said, "It will be done."

As she left the booth, she heard a low chuckle from under the hood, and shivered.

 

*Just as the man was telling everyone to calm Manuel grabbed the barrel of the man's gun, and pointed it up, a few rounds were fired into the clubs ceiling, the man refued to lose grip of his gun, so using this to his advantage Manuel swung the gun over his head, with the man attached, and smashed him through the nearest table, the man finally let go of the gun, and Manuel dischanged the last few rounds of the gun on club patrons that were getting rowdy, he also threw the grenade into the crowd killing 10 others. Manuel then took his own gun and fired a round into the man's shoulder*

"Yeah, I want In" snarled Manuel "Or I'll Hit A Little Closer To Home Next Time" he said loading his gun with a new power cell "Ya Kriffing ****!"

-Yoda

 

OOC: what does "kriff" mean?!?! (in loose terms)

 

OCC: Basically its a "Five Letter Word" that we can say and not get in trouble, thats about it...

-Yoda

 

OOC: ah. that makes sense.

 

OOC Coota and corellian_chic242, welcome.

Hooper McFinney's

The man sighed, clearly unfazed by the shot to the shoulder. He unclipped a small blaster from his belt and turned his head slightly, facing the woman. Without a word spoken between them the woman opened fire with the dual E-11's, hitting Manuel square in the chest. The man quickly stepped to the side, out of his direct line of fire and came up next to him.

Almost immediately the woman stopped her barrage and the man slipped one arm around the Ongree's neck, the holding the pistol to his head. With a single pull of the trigger the man stunned Manuel and he fell to the floor, unconscious. (The pistol was, in fact, a Sleep Inducer)

The man and woman put away their weapons and carried Manuel outside. The man placed a datacard on the counter as they left,

"Sorry about the mess"

 

Marlowe entered Hoopers about an hour after the fracas, though he could tell that the place had been through some rather heavy damage. The Repbulic security force was still there cleaning things up, taking prints and looking for the alien who had killed ten while trying to hold up another pair who were trying to hold up the grill.

"Looks messy," Marlowe commented to a Republican security officer as he entered, "Somebody not get what they ordered?"

The Republican officer looked at him for a moment, and then snorted. "Ah, Marlowe. I've heard about you down at the station. Real joker, huh?"

"I like to think of it more as a demonstration of my incredible powers of observation. Why aren't you shutting this place down, questioning everyone?"

"What's the point? This guy'll kill someone else in another, more important place, and we'll pick him up then. If not, too bad."

"You guys are all heart," Marlowe grunted, then continued towards the Grill's bar.

This was why he had quit the Republic Security Forces; they just didn't seem to understand the point of 'protect and serve.' It was more like protect and serve the people with the credits. Still, if they had shut this place down, it would have made his job a little more difficult.

He walked up to the bar and took out the datacard the woman had given him. Keying it to the picture of the man she wanted found, he showed it to the bartender while dropping a ten credit piece in front of him.

"Hey, mac, you ever seen this guy before? Or know anyone who might have?"

 

*Hours later Manuel woke up and relized what had happend, he found the data card, and reliezed that he was "In", but still, he couldn't let those shots go without uncontested, he quickly ran into the bar grabed a bottle of Correllian Whiskey, hours later, he finally found the man and ran up behind him, and broke the bottle over his head, he then picked the man up by his neck and shoved the bottle through his abdomin, the man grunted, Maneul laughed, twisted it, and pulled it out*

"Haheheha, your good!" He said to the stunned man "I guess I'm in, So, where to? What Now?"

-Yoda

 

Location: The Starstrike Lounge, The Outlander Nightclub.

Whilst the Outlander nightclub caters to the everyday being looking for a good time, The Starstrike Lounge is designed for those with more specific wants. The Lounge has it's own bar and gambling area, as well as numerous stages for various forms of entertainment.

A large Hutt sits in one of the farther corners, which seems to have been designed specifically for his use. A Twi'lek sits next to him, sipping his ale and drinking in the dancing girls with his dark eyes. Two brutish looking humans sit a little further away, both have large blaster pistols slung, quite clearly, from thier hips.

On the other side of the Lounge, one of the repulsorlife dorrs hisses open and a well dressed man steps out. He wears what can only be described as a cross bewteen a suit and combat fatigues. It's stylish, yet clearly functional. To further add to the strange clothing, he wears combat boots and a pair of sleek black glasses. He is clean-shaven and his hair, as black as his clothes, is styled neatly.

The bartender pours a drink for the man as he approches. He thanks the bartender and head to the corner where the Hutt is seated.

"Ah," The Hutt turned his attention to the man in black, "Zevrak Axim, our man in Alderaan. Get your ass over here."*
Zevrak grinned, taking a drink as he sat down.
"So, Marus my man, what's happening?" asked Zevrak.
The Hutt laughed, "Straight to the point, eh? Well, I guess we can catch up afterwards. I've got a little something for you to work on, it just came up this afternoon, but it's your kinda job." The Hutt turned back to his drink and the Twi?lek stood up and led Zavrak out through a side door.

* Translated from Huttesse

Location: Hooper McFinney?s
The bartender slid the credits off the counter as he examined the datapad. He squinted his eyes as he mused silently. Finaly he laid a hand down on the bar, ?Yeah, I seen him before. Not what you?d call a regular, usually in here every month or so ? likes to have a good time, usually buys a round or two for everyone here. Most people know him as ?Slim?. I think he works ?round here somewhere, down at that CompuTec store.?

He wipes down the bar a little, ?So, can I getcha anything??

Location: Storeroom, The Outlander Nightclub.

OOC: Kung-Foo-Yoda, I guess I wasn?t clear with my last post. You?re not ?in? yet, and the datacard that was placed on the bar was a credit chip to pay for the damages. I?m going to disregard your last post, since I?ll resolve the situation here, but I?m also going to ask you to ease up on the action a little. You?re lucky that your character?s still alive, after all, the woman did have 2 E-11?s pointed at your head. Anyway, what I?m trying to say is violence isn?t always going to get you further in the storyline. Now, let us continue?

Zevrak Axim and the Twi?lek, Vin?Kota, walked down the narrow corridor that ran around the back of the Starstrike Lounge. Vin?Kota was describing a few smuggling jobs that Marus had planned. The Hutt was especially interested in getting another shipment of Spice in from Alderaan, but he had a few jobs on Coruscant ? mainly hot vehicles and modified weapons.

The two came to a door at the end of the corridor. Vin?Kota opened the door and Zevrak stepped through. Two humans, a man and a woman, and a Rodian sat around a table, drinking and playing sabacc and an Ongree. The Twi?lek waves and leaves back to the Lounge.

?Hey, Zevrak Axim, what?re you doing here?? asked the Rodian.

?Nothing much, just a few jobs. Who?re your friends??

The man offered his hand, ?I?m Coen, and ??

?And I?m Kira? the woman interrupted.

Zevrak shook the man?s hand, ?And who?s this?? he pointed to the Ongree, who had remained quite.

?He overheard a conversation between me and Pikee, he wanted in, real bad. Tried to bust me up. His name?s Manuel-Jaque.?

?So, what?s he doing here?? inquired Zevrak

Pikee answered this time, ?I figured we could use another set of hands, I didn?t know yo

 

Marlowe grinned slightly and replied, "Yeah, gimme a drink. Gin, Sullustan, in a highball."

"Coming right up, mac," the bartender replied and mixed the drink with the speed of a practiced hand.

Marlowe knocked out the drink, thinking. CompuTec? Just a normal joe? Yeah, right. What was there around there worth stealing? Nothing legit; no banks or storage depots, to speak of. Maybe this was more along the lines of in-house business. Criminals taking care of other criminals, and of course they bring in the expendables like himself to do their dirty work for them.

Well, the only thing he could do was follow up the job, make the money. And make sure he got the twenty credits transferred to his account day to day. If he ended up in the middle of something, he at least wanted his payment.

Finishing his highball, Marlowe left the resteraunt and grabbed a hovertaxi for the lower district the CompuTec was set up in. Making sure to be dropped off two blocks away from the superstore, Marlowe walked the rest of the way, taking in the ground as he did. It was an upscale district, mostly populated by highclass resteraunts and bars; but the CompuTecs were everywhere, even in the places where the rich didn't want them. Go figure, with chain stores.

Marlowe walked into the store with the flow of traffic, blending in easily despite his height. With as many alien species as you get in a place like Coruscant, it's easy to blend in, even if you're 6'3 and green.

It only took a few minutes to find him. Now, came the boring part; waiting and tailing him home. It was going to be a long day. Marlowe left again and headed to a bar with some windows across the street. He wasn't going to be drinking anything hard, but at least he could get some blue milk into his system while he waited for the guy to get off work. Even bars have blue milk.

 

Location: The Starstrike Lounge, The Outlander Nightclub.

Manuel sat next to a dug named Ferrnooda toward the back of the club, Ferrnooda was a known drug dealer.

"Joo Budy Wanta? (What do you want?)" asked the dug.

"An Induced [W/ Malastarian Menthol] Death-Rod (Large Death-Stick)" replied Manuel.

"Ja Bada Pooska (That's Gonna Cost You)" said Ferrnooda.

"I Know, Just Give It To Me" said Manuel, offering the stolen data card left by the man at Hooper McFinney's.

*Ferrnooda accepted the card and handed Manuel a lighted induced death-rod*

"Patoon(Enjoy)"

*Manuel Took A Puff Then Asked "I saw you at Hooper's when I got in the shoot out, so tell me, what do you know about this "Coen" charecter?" asked Manuel.

"Hmmm...." said Ferrnooda, lost in thought.

-Yoda

 

OOC: Um, Yoda, you lost me again. I'm assuming you've walked out of the room with Coen and the rest - which neither Pikee nor Zevrak are going to let you do.

Secondly, you can't have stolen the datacard from Hooper McFinney's - you were unconscious when Coen and Kira dragged you out the door.

Please, read through the posts and try to follow the story. Why not talk to Coen, Kira, Pikee or Zevrak and find out what sort of mission you've gotten yourself into?

Location: A small bar opposite a CompuTec store.

Coota - A waitress comes past your table, clearing away an empty glass.

"Can I get you another round of..." she examines the glass, "blue milk?" She smiles.

Across the road, Slim exits the store, looks up and down the street and heads down towards an Airbus station.

 

"No thanks, beautiful," Marlowe replies, getting up as he tosses enough credits to pay for the bill, plus a generous tip, on the table.

He walked out and blended in with the teeming crowd, crossing the street to mix in with the crowd headed towards the airbus. The key to tailing is to be everywhere, just the like usual crowd. Just ahead of the person you're tailing, a few steps behind, to the side. Just never make eyecontact, never look at him, but don't avoid looking at him, never try and hide from him behind a newspaper unless you're actually interested in the newspaper. If he stops, keep walking. It's an artform, and you have to learn it by trial and error. Luckily, Marlowe had long practice.

Slim got on the number 4 airbus, which lead deeper into the Coruscant underground. It wasn't hard to get aboard with him, and get a seat where Marlowe could keep an eye on him.

He got off again a few stops down the line, and again it wasn't hard to follow him, as a few other people had gotten off as well. Marlowe just wasn't sure exactly where they were, and glanced around to get his bearings as he followed the guy...

 

Name: Sidnay Karten
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Appearance: Tall, handsome is he wasn't haggard and drunk most of the time. Blonde hair.
Starting Weapon: Blaster
Bio/Other: He is a lawyer for the downtrodden. Taking many cases for traitors, and drug dealers and criminals. He is himself an avid drinker and frequents many of the underworlds clubs and bars. He also has contacts in spice smuggling.

 

Name: Faythlene Kaelar
Species: Human
Gender: Female
Appearance: Breathtakingly beautiful, but you couldn't tell by looking at her. Grime covers her head-to-toe. Dressed in formless, unassuming gray pants and shirt.
Starting Weapon: (You can only begin with a blaster pistol.) Vibroblade*
Bio/Other: (Any extra information about your character. Personality traits, background, hates, desires, addictions, etc..) Faythlene Kaelar has long, dark brown hair and fathomless brown eyes. She has a somewhat pointy chin and matching somewhat pointy, perky nose. She's tall and slender.

Fayth has long since hated her father, the owner of a successful durasteel manufacturing company. And so when chance came to take her father down, she took it. Fayth became involved in an embezzlement scheme but was caught and kicked out of her father's home. Now she wanders the streets, living off the refuse of Coruscant.

 

As was usual, Sidnay had been drunk during the action and had actually been asleep at the bar. All the commotion finally woke him up and he looked around. Seeing a dirty, yet beautiful woman he walked over to her.

"Heeey, Bea-uti-ful. Got any medicinine for an headachesh?"

 

Faythlene slapped the man, hard.

"There. And go pick on some other gal, man. I'm not one who trades favors for money. Get on now."

 

Not deterred in the slightest by the slap, Sidnay sat down. "No, You don't underssstand. I'm jusst starting to come out of my drunknessssss and I have this really bad headache. I jusst want ssome medissine."

 

Faythlene rolled her eyes.

"Men. So helpless. Come on, if you can walk I'll take ya down to my place."

 

"Ssure I can walk. I'm coming out of it, not going inn." Sidnay got up, staggardly but stable.

 

Faythlene shrugged.

"Okay then. I've got some pretty strong medicine for ya. Just come this way."

As they began to walk, she started to interrogate him.

"So, what kind of work do you do?"