The Ships Inn ... Wall Street Station, Honshu

[IND]

Welcome one and all [IND] VPs and Epsilons, new home for us. Manhattan is returned to the masses
once more.
Please note everyone else, this is our Roleplay thread, and unless invited I would appreciate keeping
this spam and OOC free if at all possible.

"Drinks are currently on the house again, Lord knows how we make any money ...
Sophie's employment has been continued with us, with another raise. Took all of my sweet talking to
get her to move over here. Continued good manners are the order of the day.
Smouldering Joe's combo unfortunately got wind of the move, and he has threatened to put in an
appearance later, though God willing that won't happen ... Just turn the Juke box up.
Usuals are on the specials board, the 'Effin Server' still being the most popular, followed by the
old favourite, 'The Bloody Corsair'. Disclaimers still apply.
Sapphire is still stocked for the odd FSFP appearance, and beers are readily available in most forms.
Enjoy your stay here, and its open twenty four hours a day as usual ... Bar snacks available."

[Nightfall]

The bar commscreen comes to life. On it, an old and worn-out LSF blue and a matching helmet. Behind the pilot, at least as much can the commcam FOV catch, there was a glimpse of a Titan's port wing and a barrage of red-blue neutron projectiles - Corsair Salamancas obviously. The pilot didn't look concerned, he was a veteran, he has many vaporised Corsairs paved his routes through Omicron Delta.

'Boss, I heard the news! Keep 'em cool up there, I'll be commin' in hot, err, dry I mean! Later, Boss, these 'Sair gals are in a bad need of a dance and it looks like they don't plan to let me go without one. Kiss Sophie for me!' Pat Boone laughed loudly as he broken transmission, killed his engines kicking the burners and facing the Corsair Titans.

A second of truth, another three seconds firing at the closest Titan, shields down, a bright Nova and the Corsair was vapor and debris.

'Warning, Shields failed' he heard his onboard computer.
'Not smart' he kicked the burners, evading...

---

If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God? - from 'Nightfall' by I. Asimov
The Outcasts consider Siniestre Nube a sacred place for several reasons. Early explorers discovered a jumphole within the depths of the cloud that leads to a strange world of ringed stars and strange craft. All ships in the burrial ground are placed facing that hole to honor the Alien Spirits. - An Outcast rumor

[Malaclypse 666]

Welcome one and all [IND] VPs and Epsilons, new home for us. Manhattan is returned to the masses
once more.
<snippalifagus>
Sapphire is still stocked for the odd FSFP appearance, and beers are readily available in most forms.
Enjoy your stay here, and its open twenty four hours a day as usual ... Bar snacks available."

Hoodlum,

Congratulations on the new digs. Bugger the decor, as long as the sumptuous Sophie is still in your employ.
Kind of you to keep the Sapphire in stock for me. Sophie Noir of course is partial to a good jolt of "Current Cordial", and I believe my new Courier Shamus is fond of Coronas, a taste he acquired during past business trips.

Please advise when you'll be "christening" the Ship Inn. Wild horses, etc.

Regards,
Pops

---

[onca]

Pete walks into the bright, shiny, dingy new area of the Newark bar appropriated for IND. He was pushing something large and heavy, obscured by a sheet, on an anti-grav gurney.

He pulls up by one wall. "Right-o lads, a little something to christen the new place."

He whips off the sheet, revealing an antique pool table.

"Ok pub rules apply... bigs 'n smalls, no free shots, and if you lose without sinking a ball you have to drop your dacks!"

[Zukeenee]

A tall man in a long, yellow coat with dark hair and small circular glasses walked into the IND Members Area in the Manhattan Bar.

"Um... huh." He said, looking around at the empty tables. "Kehn chehv re'glastee tsoidahl," Yahvo muttered to himself, leaving the dark, deserted room.

---

[romer]

"Well, alrighty then....no need for any pomp and ceremony. Only way to properly christen a new bar is to patronize it. Soph! Good to see you've decided to stay with us. I hear you made the boss sweat a little...no doubt you negotiated a little extra vacation time then. Let's have a beer hun, nothing fancy for me just yet. Well, Sophie... this is it. Our new home away from the tradelanes..."

---

[Kane]

The first sign of Kane was his rather loud voice echoing down the corridor...

"Nein! Dogzard, come back here! DOGZAAAAARD!" A very large, six limbed looking lizard creature burst in, scrabbling down the room trying to get a specialized space suit off of it. Quite violently at that.

"Gangway!" A green robot rushed into the room, following after the wayward lizard. He paused for a moment and turned to the people in the bar.

"Guten tag, meine Freunde. Sorry, but I must stop Dogzard from destroying that suit. Custom made, and expensive to... ARGH! Nein! Nein! Schlechtes Dogzard! Shlecht!" Once more, the green robot known as Kane chased after the fleeing lizard, leaving behind a few scraps of the once-useful Dogzard shaped space suit.

---

This is the real true story of rock and roll; it was not about anything more then, how to live your life, as a gangster, in sartorial splendor, and turning the world into a place where normality would never return again...- Malcolm McLaren

[marauder]

"You know, I usually see that after I've had a few, not when I walk in." Max shrugged, "Still it's good to see kane back here."

[Fellow Hoodlum]

"Damn Sophie, seems with all the crap going on in Sirius at the moment the boys and girls are all round the
place and not here right now ... Long cold cider with ice please.
Even had a thought about moving Ops HQ up to Roppongi for a while, routes changing and all that old crap.
Even been out to Waterloo and Bonn a few times recently. Still, nowhere like home ...
Damn, Kane been in with that lizard again ? Told him to keep that thing on a lead." ...

---

Some say he is a proud member of: "The most paranoid group of people in the Community."

[Malaclypse 666]

"Sophie, it appears I owe someone a case of the Bombay Blues. Put two on my tab, will you? Oh, and a case of Old Crow as well. I feel hungry.

"Here's a case of fresh Canarian Primos for the lads, Sophie. See they get distributed and lit properly, please; and tab another 10K for your troubles.

"Hood, quit staring at me as if I were a ghost. Yes, I know my arse won't fit in a fighter. It's all these late-night meetings and cross-sector calls, bloody lag! Nothing but rich appetizers and champagne.

"I'll be glad when I can roll all this up and turn it over to Sophie Deux. Gods I miss the Mangelwurzel!

"Sorry, Hood, gotta run. Onca! Guys! Off the table, put the sticks away. We need to work out some orbital mechanics here, and I'm a visual person."

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