Historical Earth Unclassifiable The Station --a Black Sheep RPG spinoff, all are welcome!

So the Black Sheep X-wing game is on hiatus, due to a serious attack of life for the GM. And in our chat thread, the pilots of the game got, well…a little silly. And so to keep us amused, we came up with the OTHER Black Sheep Game:

THE STATION



In the bucolic town of Wangaratta, Flash Jack Durham, owner of the Black Sheep Station in Victoria, Australia, has a problem. A rogue ram, called Big Duff, has been on the lam for twelve years, unshorn and unaccounted for. Smiling Jack wants him back, fearing that he may be carrying parasites and diseases that could pass to the rest of the flock. In desperation, he has called on Maxine “Max” Cameron MacMaxxon, three-time holder of the Golden Shears championship (female division), renowned Scottish sheep-whisperer, to help him track down and shear the wily pest. But the location of Big Duff is not the only mystery in town…


Rules:
1) Obey the rules of the board, and be respectful to each other.

2) This is Earth, in the present day (an alternate version, without COVID). All players are human. Only skills/abilities are permitted which an actual person might have. When in doubt, PM me.

3) No god-modding. Feel free to make suggestions to the GM. There is no hardcore storyline here, it should be very freeform. But I reserve the right to step in if things really go off the rails.

4) While the game was developed for the players of the Black Sheep X-wing game, anyone is welcome.

You can put in a very brief character sheet, name/age/description and a brief background. Don’t worry about your equipment, pets, etc. The main station has several sheepdogs, random barn cats, a few horses, 250 head of cattle, and sheep.

Lots and lots and lots of sheep.

(Special thanks to @Adalia-Durron for naming the town for me!)

 

INTRO:

Black Sheep Station, Wangaratta, Victoria, Australia
August, 2021

Max MacMaxxon stepped out of the plane, a little off-center. She didn’t have a problem with flying, as a rule, but these tiny planes always made her a bit nervous. Still, in the broad expanses of the outback, they seemed to be a must to get around.

A man walked up to her, tall and lean, with furrows etched in his face, and gave her a firm handshake. His blue eyes twinkled. “Miz MacMaxxon? Jack Durham. Welcome to Black Sheep Station!”

“Thank you, Mr. Durham. Please call me Max.” It occurred to her that she’d really have to see about changing her name. Her ex was in the past, and she wasn’t going to carry his name anymore.

“All right, and I’m Jack. If you call me Mr. Durham again, I’ll think my dad’s risen from the dead.” He gestured to a beaming woman with a long gray braid who was standing nearby. “My wife, Muriel.”

“Welcome,” said the woman. “It’s not your first time in Australia?”

“Och, no,” said Max. “I’ve been here before. I’ve never been in this part of the country, though. Browner than I’d expect.”

Muriel shook her head. “Drought,” she said. “It’s been bad the last two years.” Max nodded sympathetically. Lack of rain wasn’t something they dealt with in Scotland, but it must be taking a toll on the sheep industry. No rain, no grass. No grass, no sheep. She could see multiple water towers, and she wondered how full they were.

But as Jack showed her around, she was impressed. It was a big station, and well organized. Barns, sheds, dips, paddocks…not new, but everything seemed to be in good repair. There was a large kitchen garden, a bit barren at this time of year. In the distance, she could see what looked like cloudbanks clustered on the ground. “All Merinos?” she asked. That was the breed most commonly associated with the area.

“Oh, yeah. We’ve also got about 250 cattle at some of the outstations. Big demand now, in China and Japan.”

“Aye, got to diversify nowadays,” she agreed. She and her father still had sheep, but the big money now came from the swift, clever Border Collies they bred and trained. She also had a social media channel, a certification in accounting and tax preparation, and had a few other small sidelines. When she’d finally gotten the courage to leave her ex, she’d had nothing. Now, she was able to stand on her own two feet.

She followed Jack up to the main house, where Muriel had prepared tea and something she called Lamington cakes, which were delicious and probably fattening as all get-out.

“So, now, Big Duff…?” she said.

“Oh, well… we first noticed him about eight years ago. Overgrown wool, tried to bring him in, but he evaded us. Tried to get him the next year, no love. Didn’t see him for the next few years, and figured he was dead…then someone spotted him.” Jack shook his head. “Like Chris. You’ve heard of him.”

“Oh, aye. Chris is a legend!” The Merino ram had nearly six years of wool on him when he was finally shorn, setting a record. He’d died a few years ago.

“Well, Big Duff’s been on the run for longer than that. About twelve years, I’d say.”

Max was doubtful. “And you’re sure he’s still alive?” Twelve years was a very long lifespan, for a sheep. Most Merinos lasted about ten.

“One of my rouseabouts spotted him a month ago. That’s when I called you.” He looked at Max. “After all this time, the wool will be no good. He might have flystrike, lice, flukes, riddled with God-knows-what. But…I can’t let the poor fella suffer. I want to bring him in, snag him, drench him…just make sure he’s comfortable.”

Max noded. She could certainly understand that. But Jack hesitated and glanced at his wife.

“Especially since…”

Max waited. The silence got uncomfortable. “Well,” said Jack, “something’s taking the sheep. Killing them, draining the blood.”

“Wild dogs? Wolves?” Did they even have wolves in Australia? They’d been gone from Scotland for centuries.

“No,” said Jack. “We don’t know what it is, but it’s something else. With a strange, triangular shaped bite. I don’t want Big Duff to fall prey to whatever that is.”

“Well, I’ll make no promises,” said Max, “but I will do my best for you.”

“You’ll stay on as a snagger?” asked Jack. “We were goin’ to start in about two weeks.”

Max nodded. “Aye,” she said, “I’ve got my visa in order. I’ll stay for you.” And when she’d finished the job here, there would be plenty of other places around that could use an expert shearer. She’d sign on with one of the contract firms; she could fetch pretty good money. Shearing in Scotland had mostly ended a few weeks ago, so a trip to the Southern Hemisphere would fill up the coffers nicely. And even though they were in the winter season here, it was still warmer and sunnier than it was back home. A nice change. “Your fella, the one who saw him, is he around? Maybe tomorrow he can take me out to where Duff was spotted?”

“Sure, I’ll have him do that.”

“And you have a map of the place?”

“Yes, I’ll give you a copy.”

“Now,” said Muriel, “why don’t you go have a lie down? I’m sure you’re tired from the trip, and still catching up on the jet lag. Join us for dinner tonight. Seven o’clock?”

“Thank you,” said Max. She’d been in Australia for about three days, but her body clock still wasn’t fully synched up. She nodded her farewells and wandered back to the shearer’s quarters, where her luggage had been deposited. It was a large room in a one-story house with a broad, covered porch, in the traditional Australian style. There was a large kitchen, which would turn out meals for the shearing crew when they arrived. A large dining area, a small lounge with a fireplace. There were several other rooms, mostly with bunk beds. She’d been given one with a double bed, and there were three others.

In the off-season, the Durhams accepted guests who wanted to know what life on a real sheep station was like. They wouldn’t be accepting any more bookings, though, as the rooms in the house would soon fill up with professional sheep shearers, hard-muscled men and women who would methodically take the fleece from a thousand wriggling bodies, before packing up and moving on to the next job. Not an easy life, but one Max was used to. The more experienced crew would be here, or bunking in trailers on site, while the younger, newer folk would be relegated to a room in the row of rooms behind the house. Like the old-fashioned motels in the United States, they’d have a small wardrobe and some bunks. Not at all fancy, but, if Muriel was anything to go by, they’d be clean. Overall, it was an impressive operation.

She took off her shoes, and stretched out on the bed. Muriel had left a pile of clean towels for her, but she’d wait to hit the bath house before dinner. She’d spotted a room off the porch with a couple of washing machines, and a clothesline, so the shearer’s quarters would be really quite comfortable. At the moment, she had it all to herself, but she was sure it would fill up soon enough…

TAG: EVERYONE

 

IC: Louise "Lou" Vaughn/Airen Vaughn
Melbourne Airport
Melbourne, Australia





"Maker that was a killer flight," Louise, Lou to her friends, Vaughn grunted as she hauled her carry on luggage hrough Melbourne airport.

"21 hours," Airen Vaughn replied wearily.

The two newlyweds had driven seven hours from their home in North Eastern Oregon up to Seattle to catch the first leg of their flight to Australia. The flight from Seattle to Los Angeles was mundane and only took about three and a half hours. Then the big haul was before them. The haul across the Pacific from Los Angeles to Melbourne. 18 hours aboard a plane. Killer.

Lou had slept a bit on the plane but the in flight movies had kept her awake most of the time. She just didn't adjust well to the time change either now that they were a full day ahead. Make that 19 hours ahead of their usual time on the west coat of the United States. It was going to be rough but the trip they planned would be worth every bit of it. The two, living on a farm themselves, signed up through an online agency to tour Australian farms and see how they operated. It would be a bit of work mixed with pleasure. A perfect combination for the married couple.

The pair trudged through the airport and presented their passports to customs and after a brief moment were officially welcomed to Australia with a stamp and a curt, "Have a good holiday."

"Honeymoon," Airen corrected to the uncaring eyes of the customs official.

After an eternity of navigating their way through the airpot the pair came to a car rental station. They ended up renting something cheap. A Hyundai Accent. Hardly big enough for their two large suitcases let alone a cup of coffee. Slipping into the passenger seat Lou glanced over to see Airen muttering to himself.

"What's the problem?" Lou asked.

"I forgot they drive on the left over here," Airen grumbled.

"Oh," Lou said and realized that through her jet lag she'd gotten in on the opposite side of the car she was used to from home, "it's really not that bad. I spent a month in the UK when I was younger. Did some driving. Left is right and right is left."

"Say again?" Airen said as he rested his left hand on the stick.

"Left is right and right is left," Lou said.

Airen hesitated.

"You want me to drive?" Lou asked.

"Sure," Airen finally admitted.

The two switched places and Lou popped into the driver seat.

"Got the address into the GPS," Airen said.

"Great," Lou replied, "looks like we have almost a three hour drive to get to where we're going in Wangaratta."

Lou put one foot on the clutch and the other on the gas and ripped out of the parking lot of Melbourne airport.

This was gonna be a good trip.

Tag: All!

 

Ianna Mcear- Independent Shepard
Wangaratta

"You can't go running off like that." Ianna said coming over a slight rise, her Essendon Football Club shirt wrinkled and covered in dry grass. The full grown ewe that was thrown over her shoulders bleated at her. Though she was of smaller stature the young shepherdess was strong as an ox. "I know my fault for not checking the fencing." The sheep bleated again, Ianna rolled her eyes. "I'm going to get to it, this arvo, it would be this morning but someone had to on walkabout." A Blue Heeler, also known as an Australian Cattle Dog barked as it walked along at Ianna's side.



"Pat's right, you can't go running off not with all the deaths recently." The ewe was quiet for a little while, Ianna kept marching. It been a crazy few weeks sheep being killed left, right and center. Ianna's flock had been lucky, no losses, yet. That didn't mean she wasn't worried. But, being the only worker on Mcear Farm kept her busy enough that she didn't really have time to worry. It might have been minuscule compared to Jack's place or even Amber's but it was hers and she loved every animal on her land.

"Alright in you go." She said depositing the ewe back in the pen then moving over to the fencing. Just some rusted out wire, nothing trying to cut through it thankfully. She'd have to go into town to get some fencing later but for now she could patch it. Most of the time the sheep stayed away but this one got curious it seemed. Wiping her brow she looked out over her little piece of land, she still needed to get Jeen's help with some things around the place but, it was coming along.

"Alright Pat let's go see if we can patch this fence." The dog barked and wagged her tail following along with her master.

TAG: Everyone

 

IC Ethan Malek
German Ambassador

It was nice to be back at home again, even if it was only for two weeks. But after the stress of Melbourne Ethan always enjoyed being back here. Back in the countryside. There had been a time when he had spent his vacations back in his home country, but these days the stress of traveling to the opposite end of the world lead to him usually spent his time here. In the small homestead he had bought from his diplomats salary. Now he stood on his veranda, leaning against the wooden table, surveying his property, and enjoying the clear air and warmth of the sun. As he looked further he saw his eight year old daughter Ilona play with her little friends Kat'harina and Ulrika. All three girls wielding wooden swords, screaming at the top of her lungs. Ethan allowed himself a smile at the sight, he was glad how much his daughter enjoyed Australia and how easily she had found friends here. Maybe, once he and Tanya had reached the end of their service they could retire here, live out the rest of their days on the countryside.


"How is Ilona doing?" His wife Tanya asked as she exited the building, holding her sleeping baby son in her arms.


"She teamed up with Kat against Ulrika, I think," Ethan smiled, "or the other way around their alliances tend to shift all the time."

"Sounds like our job," Tanya joked. "Honestly glad to be out of that for a while." Being the military attaché in the German consulate in Melbourne she usually worked alongside her husband, but with Adrian´s birth she had been granted parental leave.

"It's good to be back here," Ethan said after a while.


"Good to have you back," Tanya agreed before handing Adrian over to her husband. "You are a great ambassador but as father you have neglected your duties quite a bit lately."

Ethan nodded slowly as he looked down at the sleeping boy in his arms. "I know, hope to catch up now. Will take the girls to the countryside as well."

"Next year, when I´m back at the consulate you can take leave," Tanya reminded him, wrapping her arms around him from behind. "Then you have to deal with filled dipers and screaming all night."

"Deal," Ethan smiled, "was thinking about inviting Amber to dinner later tonight." He and Tanya had befriended the vineyard owner shortly after moving here.

"Fine with me, haven´t seen her in ages." Tanya agreed.

Tag: @Adalia-Durron

 

IC: Lou Vaughn/Airen Vaughn
Almost to WANGARATTA



"You're speeding again, Lou," Airen said as he woke up from his nap and took a peek over at Lou's speedometer.

"Am I?" Lou questioned as she glanced down at the speedometer.

"You really are cruising for a ticket aren't you?" Airen said with a grunt.

"I just wanted to see what this rental car could do," Lou replied as she backed off the gas a bit, "besides this whole kilometer to miles per hour thing isn't working out so well in my head."

"Well we just passed a sign that said speed limit of 110 kilometers per hour," Airen said, "and by my math that translates as 70 miles per hour. You're going at least 90 MPH by my reckoning."

"So? I'm on vacation," Lou replied, "they can mail me the ticket. By the time it gets to the United States who knows where we'll be."

"You just keep telling yourself that," Airen said as he looked out the window.

The GPS blared a loud warning.

"Speed camera," Airen gently reminded his wife.

"Yeah, yeah," Lou said as she eased off the gas to drop below the speed limit.

The pair zoomed past the speed camera and once clear Lou stomped on the gas again. She weaved in and around a pair of slower moving vehicles.

"Sorry I couldn't get us to go see where Mcleod's Daughers was filmed," Airen admitted.

"We're in the totally wrong state," Lou replied, "that was filmed next door in South Australia."

"Still," Airen continued, "would've been cool to see Drover's Run."

"Yeah, totally," Lou replied, "although you know the show got kind of weird after season four."

"Didn't they end up killing everyone off?" Airen asked.

"The good ones left early. Claire, then that Nick and Tess crap with their relationship, and I think it just got really tangled and messed up to the point that by season eight Mcleod's Daughters wasn't even about Mcleod's Daughters..." Lou trailed off as they entered Wangaratta, "more like Mcleod's distant relatives."

Airen laughed out loud.

"What about Man from Snowy River?" Airen asked.

"Love that movie," Lou replied, "especially the music. Jessica's Theme is so beautiful. That scene at the end where he goes after the mustangs down that hill. Chills down my spine, man, chills down my spine."

"What's the name of the place we're staying at tonight?" Airen asked as Lou eased into Wangaratta, slowing down to the appropriate speed.

"The Sheep's Head," Lou replied as she glanced over at the GPS mounted on the dash.

"Sounds like a real winner," Airen said.

"It's all I could book on short notice," Lou pointed out as she pulled in front of their bed and breakfast.

The pair quickly checked in, took a shower, and then decided to head out to do some exploring as it was still mid afternoon. They had to force through their fatigue as their body clocks were totally off from the flight. Neither one was particularly hungry.

Lou clambered in behind the wheel, clicked her seatbelt, and gunned it in reverse. As she did so she heard a loud thump behind her. She grimaced thinking she'd hit a curb or a sidewalk. Lou got out and walked to the rear of the vehicle and covered her mouth.

"Airen...." Lou choked out.

Airen got out of the car and walked behind the vehicle. He tracked Lou's gaze to the ground and saw that they'd hit a dog. By the looks of it the animal was someone's pet. It even had a name tag. The poor thing was still alive. Breathing was shallow and rapid. It's hip was pretty mangled.

"We need to take this dog to a vet. Now!" Lou cried out.

"Yeah," Airen said as he gently scooped up the dog.

He slipped into the back seat while Lou quickly went in to talk to their host regarding the nearest veterinarian clinic. Lou raced out seconds later and this time did a double take before ripping out of her parking spot. The vet clinic wasn't very far. They got there in record time.



"Dr. Paws Veterinary Clinic," Airen said as he got out of the car.

"Come on," Lou said walking briskly into the office.

Lou walked over to the receptionist and managed to choke out, "I need to see a vet, now! This dog was hit. I ran it over by accident."

Airen looked into the dog's eyes and whispered, "You're gonna be ok, buddy. You're gonna be ok."

Great start to the honeymoon....Airen thought as he looked around the lobby noticing a few other people were there.

Tag: @Adalia-Durron; @darthbernael

 

Max MacMaxxon
Black Sheep Station
Two Hours later...

Max woke from her nap, feeling much better. She felt something pressed up against her legs and looked down with dread. She'd been to Australia several times before and was often reminded that it was fully of nasty wee beasties that could kill you almost by looking at you. But it was only two cats, curled up on top of her. Max wasn't sure how they'd gotten in, since the door was closed. But then, in her experience, cats seemed to have some weird ability to move through dimensional portals or something, to get where they wanted to be.

She got up and gathered her things together, checking the plastic shower mules for creepy crawlies, then went to the bath house for a quick shower. The cats watched her go, then returned to their nap. Then she dressed in a simple knit dress of dark red. Nothing fancy, but it could be dressed up or down as needed. Most of her clothes were work clothes, but she had squeezed in one or two pieces suitable for being seen in polite company.

While she waited for her hair to finish drying, she edited her latest vlog. Her viewers were keen to hear the story of Big Duff, and Jack had been happy for her to include the station in her filming. When her phone alarm went off, she finished up, put everything away and walked up to the main house to join Jack and Muriel for dinner, leaving the cats to their rest. Muriel was putting plates on the table and beamed when she came in.

"Ah, there you are! I hope you're hungry."

"I am, indeed." She took a step back as a tall, broad young man edged through the door. "Oh, excuse me." The young man's eyes widened, and he looked anxiously at Muriel.

"This is our nephew Davey, Jack's sister's son. Grew up in Perth, but he's helping out here now. He spotted Duff the other day."

"Oh, aye?" Max sat down. "Can you tell me where?" Davey looked panicked, and cast a pleading look at his aunt. Max began to wonder if he'd been at an all-boys school. Maybe she shouldn't have worn a dress?

"Grace first," said Muriel. Max looked at two extra plates.

"Are we missing anyone?"

"We're supposed to have guests for the weekend; they'll be in the house with you, but they haven't arrived yet. Now. Grace." They bowed their heads and said a short thanks for the food before them...and Max was thankful. Homemade chicken pie well filled with meat and veg, a big salad, roast potatoes, and some very good wine.

She commented on it and Jack nodded. "That's Amber's," he said. "Her property is next to ours, to the south. She's got a vineyard, makes wines."

"Does she have tastings?" asked Max. "I'd certainly like to send a case home."

"I think so. You'll meet her, eventually. She's got a few sheep herself, mostly to keep the weeds down."

Things got quiet, then. The food was too good to waste time talking over.

TAG: @Vehn, @Adalia-Durron, Anyone

 

IC: Alonzo Cain
Near Hollywood

The old Huey helicopter resounded reassuringly with its distinctive 'whop-whop-whop' rhythm. A voice crackled in his headset. "Cameras are rolling. Action!"

It's time to pay the bills, thought Cain. He kissed his thumb and pressed it to a photo on the instrument panel. A serious looking young woman with a beautiful face and hair done in twin purple ponytails looked out of the picture. Wish me luck, Sara.

"Huey copies, rolling in."

The chopper rolled and dove, turning toward an aircraft hangar with doors open on both ends. The structure rushed forward at his windscreen, swelling with frightening speed. Cain ignored the camera crews, the stuntmen rushing around doing their things, the lights, the vehicles, even the hangar itself. All that mattered was the center line. If he stayed on the center line and no more than 10 feet off the deck, nothing around him would matter. The sky darkened as he swept into the hangar at 100 knots indicated, the pounding rhythm of the rotor blades redoubled as their noise echoed back at him, and time slowed to a crawl. The overhead lights were passing overhead at what seemed like a glacial pace and he fought the urge to bring the stick back; his toes curled as he anticipated the tail rotor striking the roof beams.

Then he was out, back into clear air, still going a hundred knots and less than ten feet up. He eased the Huey back to a more comfortable altitude of fifty feet. "We got it! Cut and print!" came over the radio. Not exactly FAA approved radio lingo, but he wasn't about to complain about that to the people signing his paycheck. He sighed in relief and turned toward the landing pad.

After shutting down and securing the Huey, he walked to the flight line office. Two men were waiting inside, looking at him expectantly. They both wore the distinctive ballcaps emblazoned FAA. Cain's gut tightened. It looked like the Federal Aviation Administration wanted to talk to him. And, like anyone with the government, they were undoubtedly here to help.


A month later, Cain was flying over the outback in Australia, nursing along a 1949 Antonov An-2 with a sick engine, and telling himself he was lucky to be in the air at all. The FAA had pulled his commercial ticket, and all his rotorcraft ratings. All because the film crew that hired him hadn't gotten the required waiver for the stunt they hired him for. There was no arguing the fact that he had busted the regs by flying within 500 feet of people, vehicles, and structures; the evidence was all there on hi-def IMAX film.

Without a commercial pilot license, he couldn't take any flying job for pay. So now he was hopping around Australia, giving people rides 'for free' (nudge nudge) and persuading them to pay him for odd jobs (wink wink). No doubt the authorities would take a dim view of his entrepreneurial endeavors if they caught him, but so far he was getting away with it, and he was still in the air.

He frowned as a faint vibration rattled the airframe. The engine maintenance logs were mostly in Polish, but he was fairly certain they indicated the Soviet built radial engine was due for an overhaul. Long overdue, probably. That was the only reason he'd been able to afford the monster biplane; no one else at the auction wanted it.



Still, the old bird had its virtues. A stock An-2 could easily take off and land on a soccer field, and this one wasn't stock any more. Equipped with added leading edge slats on the lower wings as well as the stock ones on the upper wing, plus vortex generators all over the wings and tail, in a decent headwind he could almost stop in midair and didn't need much more landing room than a helicopter. It was originally designed as an airliner, but it made a formidable bush plane. Which is why drug runners had modified it for their own use. Luckily for Cain, they had gotten caught and the plane went to the auction block.

A metallic bang shook the plane. It began vibrating so hard he couldn't read the gauges and had difficulty keeping his hands on the controls. He yanked the throttle back to idle, which reduced the shaking somewhat, but he still felt like the engine was about to tear itself out of the motor mounts. Magnetos off, mixture to cutoff, fuel off. The engine rattled into silence as Cain set the pitch trim full up, best glide speed, and peered down for an emergency landing spot. He should have been paying closer attention to those; he had gotten complacent cruising along at 5000 feet. At least I've got enough height to have some time and options.

As he peered down past the nose, he caught a glimpse of a broken propeller blade. The engine hadn't failed him; it was the prop. But running at cruise power with all the imbalance of a broken blade was sure to cause all kinds of internal destruction to the engine case and crankshaft. And where had the broken blade fallen? Worry about that later! Land this pig!

There was a small town below, and a dirt strip, short one, probably didn't handle anything bigger than Piper Cubs, but with full flaps he'd manage to squeeze the An-2 into it. He circled overhead, losing altitude and trying to judge distances and glide angles. Thankfully, there was a windsock at the end of the airstrip, looked like a twenty knot quartering headwind from the right. He recovered from the descending circle on short final, still a little high, right wing down and controls crossed to bleed off altitude and airspeed as he countered the crosswind, wind shear decreasing as he neared the surface, round out, flare, right wheel down, hold it there, keep the left wings up as long as he could, tail down, controls going soft as airspeed dropped, all three wheels on the ground now, full left rudder against a swerve to the right, stand on the left brake, straightening out now, ease off the brakes as the tail tried to rise, and then he was coasting slowly off the side of the strip. Aside from the faint whistle of the wind across the glass panes, all was completely quiet and still.

A weather-beaten sign indicated at least one local pilot had a sense of humor. WELCOME TO MACHO GRANDE MEMORIAL AERODROME

Now what?


TAG: @Adalia-Durron @Corellian_Outrider @Mistress_Renata @adaml83 @TheAdmiral @Sinrebirth @darthbernael @Mitth_Fisto @Rebecca_Daniels

 

IC Ianna Mcear

The sun was falling and Ianna was still working away. She'd gone into town to get more fencing, and was currently adding another layer of wire fencing in the hopes it would keep whatever was lurking around out, and her sheep in. Pat's barking alerted her to the approach of Traer and his dog Aden. Aden looked tired as Traer laid him down on a patch of grass. Pat instantly tried to run up and sniff around but, Ianna called him back.

"Yeah, had one of my ewe's escape this morning so while I was patching it, I figured I should just do the whole thing right." She walked forward crouching down in front of Aden. "Aww poor fella, been running flat out huh?" She heard music in the distance it was Karaoke Night wasn't it.

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

IC: Jocelyn “Joy” Chen
Resting in her police cruiser



Joy was not used to such a warm climate. But that was the point of her moving from Canada to Australia. She was getting sick of the cold and one boring night shift she browsed through job offers, an idea nested in her mind.

At first it had to do with a hypothetical subject for daydreaming, then during her off day Joy browsed through the requirements for a police officer to transfer to another country. It was just hypothetical.

She was even willing to abandon her dream of becoming a detective. Oh, she was not that desperate to move, but it was somewhat enticing. Joy was sure she was not going to move up the ladder anyway. Most she could do was become a Sergeant…

Not that moving to Australia was going to make her into a detective either, but at least she would have had some more control over her life. So far she had mostly listened to her parents. Her father was a former Deputy Commissioner of Operations and was putting her under great pressure to succeed.

Needless to say her parents were not happy with the decision. Even the explanation that she would be closer to her maternal homeland did not fly. But Jocelyn stood her ground and there she was.

Her first posting… well it was not Sydney, but she was happy with where she landed. Not much to do, warm weather and her newly found freedom. Jocelyn had to go through some additional training, local laws and procedures, which she did well enough.

There was nothing to worry about, aside an attack by some random animal that was out there to kill her. If the Internet was to be believed.

It was her first week at the new place and she wanted to get to know it and so on. But now she was resting in the cruiser, while her partner went for coffee. At least there was air conditioning…

TAG: Anyone?

 

IC:Tom Kingsley
At the pub
The light was piercingly bright for a pub with one dingey window, showing the morning sun. Tom Kinsley woke, slumped over the bar, as he does every morning. He collapses at three, usually while counting the nights earnings. After he wakes up, he would usually slink to his crusty, sun torn wooden chair and read a book or watch re-runs of kath and kim. Before standing up and serving the same slobs beer again at night.

But as Tom woke today, he knew it was different, it was Friday. Karaoke day. He knew this was the only night the pub brought in the big bucks, so he stood up and got to work. He cleaned the floors of broken glasses, wiped the tables so sticky, peoples hands got stuck on them, and took out the expensive karaoke set that wouldn’t dare show its face to the regular neighbourhood drunks. After all this, Tom went to Woolies, which surprised locals, for most of them had never seen him leave the premisses (well, not since the accident). He picked up bangers and mash in a jar, hoping to convince the patrons he cooked it himself.


It was time. People from all around were at the door of the small bar, exited. The depressed drunken wreck of a person suddenly transformed into a Russel Coight as he opened the door.

“ah welcome all! Welcome to ya local pub! I see your new here, try some of our (triple price) wine straight from the orchard!” he said to one guest, A crazy looking guy with a huge bus that looked too clean to be from here.

“g’day! Howsit goin?, you need some karaoke! Prices start at 5 bucks a song!” he said to another, who came from the sheep’s head.

Then the locals came, He saw most of them before, and new a few names. All he was concerned about was that they gave him money. While it was unappealing, Tom had to keep his Australian attitude up, and said;

“Drinks half price if you lost cattle this week!” most of them managed a smile (mostly because they knew he was only doing this ‘cause the tourists lap it up).

Tom was a solitary person, he knew very few, and was friends with even fewer. The only person in the entire bar he knew well was the vet who helped him with a heart attack, Jeen. He the closest thing to a doctor around here. He also saw amber, who was supplying the wine.

He secretly always felt freed, when he pretended to be a jolly Australian publican, friends with everyone. Talking with the tourists, asking where they are from, (he was sure someone said they were hired as a sheep detective). Or talking to the locals about fence and vet issues, and someone saying “your loose animal will poison my cattle!” All fun. Tom took everything in his stride, and the night was starting to shape up.

Then the karaoke started. Tom hates all music, but he even managed a smile when a beached whale sounding person sang unpleasant habits (or was it bad habits?) on the machine.

He would never slip out of his fantasy act every karaoke night, because he secretly loved it. Unless of course, something horrible occurred. Then he would be the scoundrel he is…
Tag: everyone at karaoke

 

Sarge and Addie combo. It's been too long.

IC: Alonzo Cain, Amber Win’Destari
Karaoke, here we come.


Cain hiked up the road in his cleanest clothes: jeans, flight jacket, and his DO YOU EVEN FLY t-shirt.

A big purple truck passed by and pulled into the bar. Purple. What is it with that color? Is it my lucky color or my unlucky color? Regardless, the vehicle looked like it would be just what he needed.

A man got out and opened the door for a redhead in the passenger seat. No, wait, that's the driver's seat... crazy Aussie roads. He was too far to overhear their voices, but they were acting like one of those pleasantly awkward first dates.

Inside, he spotted her at the bar, apparently ordering while her date waited at a table. He moved up beside her with a nod and a friendly smile. "Hi. That's quite a truck you're driving. Grape is my favorite flavor."

Leaning on the bar she could see that it was getting busy so was waiting patiently with her foot on the bottom rail when someone spoke beside her, another out of town accent. "Grape? Oh you mean purple.....yeah, she's a beauty. 3.6 litre V8, gets the job done and looks good doing it." She smiled and bragged slightly, she loved her car, a slight frown then creased her forehead. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"Alonzo Cain, my friends mostly call me Cain. I'm new in town. Did you see the big purple biplane with the broken propeller at the airstrip? That's me." He held out a hand to shake. Looking her in the eyes, he noticed how green they were, like bright emeralds even in the dim light of the bar.

"Sorry mate, saw no plane land, I am guessing you landed with it broken and didn't crash. Might have heard that one!" She reached over and took his hand, shaking it. "So, you planning on stayin' around town till you can fix it?"

"Don't have much choice. It's my only transportation. Kinda makes it hard to go get a new engine when you don't have an engine to get you to the new one at Wadonga Airport, right?" He noticed that she hadn't given him her name yet. How was he going to sweet talk her into loaning him her car? "So, ever been up in a biplane?"

"No....in a Cessna yeah, but not a bi plane. You a crop duster? Most of them around these parts are choppers, a bi plane would be a very ...........old fashioned way to do it." She smirked hearing his unspoken question and knowing that her Thunderstruck was off the table. "I know a few truckies, maybe I can get one of them to slip it into their load on the way through?"

Cain tried not to look overeager. The redhead was practically offering to solve his biggest problem for him. "Yeah, I've dusted crops. You got something that needs spraying? I can do pesticides, fertilizers, liquid or powder, you name it. If I can get an engine from Wadonga, that is. Can't just get your truckie to load it though, it's still attached to another old plane. I'll need to remove it myself, can't afford to hire somebody to do it for me."

Amber digested that information and began to wonder if this was another one of her charity days. "Just had my vineyards down a couple months ago, so I'm all good. But I guess you can't do that till you get your hands on that engine?" She pursed her lips; she'd been planning a trip into Wadonga to get some supplies. "Amber Win'Destari, I own the Winery just out of town.......and I was planning a trip next week, I guess I could bring it forward...." She mused out loud. "Where ya from? It ain't around here."

"Pleased to meet you, Amber Win'Destari with the winery out of town. Hey, is that why your car is purple? And I'm just another Yank come to see the 'roos." Cain didn't see any need to go into details about why he found it necessary to make a living on the other side of the world; it wasn't even his fault. "Have you ever had your vineyards surveyed from the air? I do aerial photography too."

Amber chuckled; he was amusing if nothing else. "Car's purple because I like purple, wine is red and white mostly." She grinned, "and yes, it’s in the pamphlet I give out to tasters. Part of the promotion package and all that." She glanced over her shoulder, "I'm having dinner with a fellow countryman of yours, care to join us?" She offered. "We can discuss it over a parmy if you like?"

Cain had the feeling things were going where he needed them to, and he could afford to act a little considerate. "I wouldn't want to be a third wheel... "

Amber was confused. "On what? He arrived in town today, investigating what's killing sheep out there." She indicated to the table where Finn sat looking at his phone. "This ain't no date or anything like that, just gave him a lift in to town to get some food and drink." Amber didn't think this was a date, was it? Who knew, she certainly didn't and as it'd been years since she'd been on a date, she had no idea. Why not have dinner with two interesting strangers?

"Oh, all righty then. Parmy, you said? Is that chicken parmesan? I've learned that y'all laugh at me when I ask you to toss a shrimp on the barby, but honestly, I still love the bloomin' onion." His mouth twisted into a self-deprecating grin.

Amber laughed openly. "Yes, it is, and I'd roll my eyes at the shrimp." One of the assistant bartenders appeared and she proceeded to order three chicken parmies and three glasses of Win'Destari Estates 'Dry Chardonnay'. "They'll bring them out, shall we?" She gestured, it was going to be an interesting evening for sure.

Cain nodded agreeably and followed her to their table. Things were looking up.


TAG: @Mistress_Renata @darthbernael @Vehn @galactic-vagabond422 @TheAdmiral @Corellian_Outrider

 

IC: Ethan Malek and family

"Think it was the best idea to bring the girls here?" Ethan quietly asked Tanya as they left the car and made their way to the entrance of the pub.

"Want them to prank their babysitter again like last time?" His wife replied with a smile. They had left Adrian back home with the sitter but taken Ilona and Ulrika with them for the karaoke night, they had asked Kat as well but she and her family had been invited in another part of town for the eve. "Relax, it will be fun."

Ethan took a deep breath and followed his wife's advice as he tried to relax himself. It was good to be out of formal suits for once, as he and Tanya only wore simple shirts and pants, like 'normal mortals' as his wife would jokingly call it.

Ilona, and Ulrika had run ahead to open the door for the adults, at least until now behaving. You really need to stop seeing your own child just as a source of trouble. Ethan chided himself as they entered.

"There is Amber!" Ilona suddenly yelled as she and Ulrika in tow rushed deeper into the pub, to a table were a good looking young red head sat with a couple others.

Ethan smiled at the sight of his friend and decided to follow his daughter a bit slower, they had all the time in the world.

"Hi Amber!" Ilona introduced herself to their family friend as she reached her table.


Tag: @Adalia-Durron, @Sarge

 

IC: Max MacMaxxon
Karaoke Time!

After dinner, Max helped Muriel with the dishes. The woman grinned at her. “So, it’s Friday night. Jack and I usually go to the the Watering Hole. It’s karaoke night, you up for it?”

Max grinned. “I’m always up for karaoke! We’ve got it on Tuesdays and Fridays back home.” She let her mind roam, pondering what songs she might like to sing. She’d done enough Gloria Gaynor, no more. She wasn’t going to go around sounding like a bitter divorcee. The bitterness had passed; she’d spent three years in bitterness, but now she realized that she was truly free and in a far better place without him than she’d ever been with him. Someday there’d be a new him, and she’d be better with the new him. But the new him had not yet appeared, so for now, she was happy being solo. So, then…

They squeezed into the truck, with Davey following along. Max laughed as she saw the sign. “The Watering Hole! I didn’t realize that was the actual name of the place!”

Jack chuckled. “Tom ain’t the most imaginative fella, and the drinks are overpriced. But Fridays are always a good time. Folks round here have pretty good pipes.” He glanced her. “You’ll sing?”

“I will if you will.”

“Oh, we will. Me and Muriel, we got an act. Our song, eh?”

He winked at his wife, who blushed and giggled. Max smiled, happy to see a marriage with love still in it, even after years. “What about Davey? Will he sing?”

The couple laughed.

“Davey will sing. He’ll surprise you, he’s really good.”

The place was packed. Max wasn’t sure whether they’d find seats, but Jack and Muriel knew everyone, and they moved through the crowd, pausing to chat and greet people, and introducing Max around. She met the winemaker, and a German couple who didn’t seem to be tourists. There was a good-looking man who was in an intense conversation with someone who had been introduced as the local veterinarian, a young woman happily chattering to another man who was already well-lubricated, if Max was any judge, and an older man with a fancy jacket studying the catalogue of songs for the karaoke set-up.

“What’s yours, Max?” asked Jack.

“Whatever’s local,” she replied. They squeezed in to a table next to the winemaker and the German couple, and sipped the beer, which seemed a bit off to her. As an out of towner, she couldn’t be the first up, so she sat back, waiting for someone to kick things off.

TAG: @Adalia-Durron @darthbernael @Vehn @galactic-vagabond422 @TheAdmiral @Corellian_Outrider @Sarge @darth orange shirt guy @Sinrebirth
and anyone I left out

Let the madness begin!

 

OOC: Many thanks to @TheAdmiral for this one. Was hilarious to do!

IC: Louise "Lou" Vaughn/Airen Vaughn
Wangaratta, Australia

"Let's go check out the pub life," Airen suggested as the pair decompressed from an eventful day.

They were both dressed for a night out on the town.

"Absolutely," Lou said scooping up the car keys, "besides I hear they like karaoke down under and we need to see just what they can do."

"They?" Airen asked as he slipped into the passenger seat.

"The Aussies," Lou replied waving her hand at the various citizens of Wangaratta walking around.

"You're characterizing again aren't you?" Airen questioned.

"Sorry," Lou said, "I guess I'm being a typical American."

"If there's one thing I've learned about you," Airen said as they backed up and eventually merged onto the main road, "there's nothing typical about you."

Lou laughed and shook her head as she gunned the throttle. She could hear the engine whine as she revved into a higher gear. She was getting better at shifting with her left hand. It was still a bit awkward but with each minute the movements were becoming a bit more natural.

"Lou," Airen said as they passed a speed limit sign, "you're speeding again."

"Am I?" Lou asked with a grin as she asked even more of their cheap rental car.

Hyundai Accents be damned. Accent this! Lou thought as her lead foot dominated this particular driving session.

"Lou," Airen groaned, "there's a police car up ahead. Slow down."

Lou tapped the brakes as they zoomed on by. She was still over the speed limit. She looked in her rear view mirror as her heart slipped into her throat.

Would the officer follow?

There was not that much time left till the end of her shift. She was going to hit the karaoke after work, probably will end up with the heavily inebriated singers, but she did not care. She liked to sing, but was too camera shy to try her luck in The Voice or the other talent shows.

"Sh-" Joy exclaimed as a car sped by. Just her dumb luck, someone decided to break the law on her first week!

"There goes the record." her partner, Anais, muttered as she started the cruiser's engine "We went almost a couple of days without a speeding ticket."

Joy gave a silent chuckle and braced herself for a potential chase. Hopefully the perp would be smart enough and stop when they saw the lights of the police vehicle.

The flash indicated that it was all over. Red and blue lights whirled behind Lou as she pulled over in a safe place, rolled the window down, and killed the engine.

"Nice," Airen groaned dropping his face in his hands.

"Let me do the talking," Lou replied.

She had her license and car rental agreement handy resting quietly on the dash in front of her. Years of driving in the United States, however, made her keep both hands on the wheel as the officer approached. It was better that way. Kept out any unnecessary complications.

"Evening, officer," Lou said, "what can I do you for?"

They stopped just behind the car and Joy turned to Anais "I will handle this." she grinned and her partner chuckled "Suit yourself." so Joy took her flashlight and headed towards the perp.

It seems the driver was another woman and judging from the accent an American. That amused her a bit and added a pang of homesickness. Well, despite being from Canada...

She was accompanied by a man, who seemed either nervous or embarrassed. It was hard to tell in the dark. "License and registration ma'am." she said matter-of-factly "You also realize that you have been speeding, right?"

Lou groaned as she handed over the required documentation. She felt she caught a break with a female police officer but that didn't always mean much. Not where she came from. Maybe she had fallen right into a trap. Her fatigue from a very long day finally catching up to her. Her reckless abandon while driving in Australia was now going to be filed away in things that should never have happened.

"Was I?" Lou asked playing dumb, "I just got here today. I still haven't gotten used to the speed limits over here. It's hard enough that I am driving on the opposite side of the road from back home. I'm just headed to karaoke right over there. Mind letting me off with a warning? I swear it won't happen again. I'll even buy you some drinks if you come join me later tonight."

Lou pointed to the pub a few blocks down the street. Its sign glowing in the growing darkness of Wangaratta.

Joy managed to keep a serious face, but the lame excuse was rather amusing. But she had to keep it professional. Even out there in the wilderness. "I am sure the signs are similar to the ones you have at home." she took the documents and pointed the flashlight at them. Yup, American. "You trying to bribe a police officer?" Joy decided to grill the woman a bit more. She was going to let her go with a warning, as asked, but the last line gave her the idea.

"No," Lou replied, "just thought you might like to party with some Americans after your shift ends. And if you don't I completely understand. It's been a long day for me. I just wanted to kick back and relax. I promise I won't speed again."

Lou what are you saying? You're just digging yourself a deeper hole!

Oh, this is getting good! Jocelyn thought amused "I hope you are not trying to hit on me... ma'am?" she tilted her head "You know I can book you for that?" she then pointed the flashlight towards the man in the car "I am sure your husband won't be happy about that either."

Hit on you? What the hell? Lou thought as she frowned slightly.

She glanced over at Airen who suppressed a laugh.

"We have an open relationship don't we honey?" Lou said stroking Airen on the leg.

Airen buried his face in his hands and shook his head, "Yeah, we do."

Lou turned her attention back to the officer and said, "Sorry, you're a little short for me. So how about you send us on our way and we get on with the rest of our day?"

Lou realized she was rhyming.

Frak me she thought.

Jocelyn had her fun and decided not to press the couple any further or either side could say something that they might regret "A shame, you are actually my type." she allowed a little joke and sighed "Alright you lovebirds. Off you go, but if I catch you again you won't go that easy. Also don't drink and drive."

"Thank you, officer," Lou replied with a grin as she took her documents back, "won't happen again. Maybe we'll see you around later."

Lou sighed and gently eased back into traffic and parked in front of the karaoke bar. So far the honeymoon Down Under had been a real beast.

"Lou," Airen said as they unbuckled, "promise me you won't sing that one song?"

"What one song?" Lou asked.

"You know which one," Airen replied, "the one you sang in Cabo that one time?"

"That wasn't me singing," Lou said with a grin, "that was Jose Cuervo."

"Right and my name is Captain Morgan," Airen grumbled as the pair walked into the pub.

"I thought it was Margaritaville?" Lou teased.

Tag: @Mistress_Renata @Sarge; @Adalia-Durron; @Anedon; @Mitth_Fisto; @galactic-vagabond422