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Drifter One

Drifter One


 

As Ricky puffed away, enjoying the tabacco taste as it burned his throat with every inhale. He was often like this; enjoying the pain of lifes choices one minute, and then drowning them with whiskey the next. It was a paradox. The fella who gave him the light did not seem to be a talkative sort, but then most people on the game wern't. It was easier that way. As ge reached the end of his cigarette, a petit looking woman appeared, dressed to impress yet had the odd accessory which suggested a big "**** You!" to the system. He felt for her a little, for he knew the system could not be beat, and it always won. Nevertheless, she seemed quite confident and announced she was looking for something. 

 

Only a moment later another woman appeared, very young looking Ricky thought. 

 

Damn kids should be at home with their folks having breakfast! Yet, as she got closer, Ricky noticed there was wisdom in her eyes, maybe not as young as he thought. She pleasantly introduced herself, which took Ricky back a bit as manners were in short supply in Night City, and although he lacked them himself through the nature of his career, he sure as hell appreciated them. The second individual mentioned Pastor Robert. 

 

"Paster Robert?" He affirmed. "You too?" he asked, turning to the other woman. Exhaling a final puff of blue smoke, Ricky tossed his cigarette into the road and walked over to the pair. "Looks like we are all part of the same crew. I'm Ricky." he introduced.

 

Before any conversation could start, a thunderous noise interrupted the formalities. Ricky looked up and could see a red vehicle screaming towards them, hitting the kerb with the dull thud of rubber on concrete before screeching to a halt. The din was cut immediately as the engine was terminated.

 

"You the pastor's lot?  If'n you wanna roll 'n talk, hop in, otherwise point me where you want me.  Rather not park on a main." Came a gruff voice from inside the cab. Ricky walked over and leant into the window, one arm resting on the roof. A pungent smell punched him in the nose and he almost baked at the odour.

 

"Hey man. You the wheels? Im Ricky." He motioned over to the side street opposite. "Why don't you pull up over there? We need to talk to this dandy fella over there and get the deets."

 

Drifter One

Drifter One

<blockquote class="ipsQuote" data-gramm="false" data-ipsquote="" data-ipsquote-contentapp="forums" data-ipsquote-contentclass="forums_Topic" data-ipsquote-contentcommentid="19541" data-ipsquote-contentid="2341" data-ipsquote-contenttype="forums" data-ipsquote-timestamp="1668677196" data-ipsquote-userid="559743" data-ipsquote-username="Drifter One">
    <div class="ipsQuote_citation">
        On 11/17/2022 at 9:26 AM, Drifter One said:
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    <div class="ipsQuote_contents ipsClearfix" data-gramm="false">
        <div class="ipsQuote_contents ipsClearfix">
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                    <p>
                        <span><strong><span style="font-size:20px;"><span style="font-family:PLAY, serif;">RICKY FO</span></span></strong></span><a data-wrappedlink="" href="//mwbaldrcdkstack-ipbuploads6f377ba5-6asvxg6ywium.s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/monthly_2022_11/token_1lm.png.91a7496faaf87677239c32425daa7b10.png" title="Enlarge image"><img alt="token_1lm.png.91a7496faaf87677239c32425daa7b10.png" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" data-fileid="2630" data-loaded="true" data-ratio="100.00" data-src="//mwbaldrcdkstack-ipbuploads6f377ba5-6asvxg6ywium.s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/monthly_2022_11/token_1lm.png.91a7496faaf87677239c32425daa7b10.png" src="//mwbaldrcdkstack-ipbuploads6f377ba5-6asvxg6ywium.s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/monthly_2022_11/token_1lm.png.91a7496faaf87677239c32425daa7b10.png" style="float:left;height:auto;" width="175"></a><span><strong><span style="font-size:20px;"><span style="font-family:PLAY, serif;">RTUNE</span></span></strong></span><em><span style="font-size:20px;"><span style="font-family:PLAY, serif;"> - LAWMAN</span></span></em>
                    </p>

                    <hr>
                    <p>
                        <span style="font-family:PLAY, serif;"><strong>Head Armor: </strong>7 | <strong>Body Armor: </strong>11 |<strong> Shield: </strong>0 | <strong>HP:</strong> 45</span>
                    </p>

                    <p>
                        <span style="font-family:PLAY, serif;"><strong>INT: </strong>7 | <strong>REF: </strong>8 </span><span style="font-family:PLAY, serif;">|<strong> DEX: </strong>7 | <strong>TECH:</strong> 5 | <strong>COOL: </strong>6 | <strong>WILL: </strong>8 |<strong> LUCK: </strong>7 | <strong>MOVE:</strong> 6 |<strong> BODY: </strong>5 | <strong>EMP:</strong> 4</span>
                    </p>

                    <hr>
                    <p>
                        <span style="font-family:PLAY, serif;"><strong>Humanity: </strong>40/40 | <strong>Wounds:&nbsp;</strong> |<strong> Critical Injuries:&nbsp;</strong> | <strong>Addictions:</strong> </span>
                    </p>

                    <p>
                        <span style="font-family:PLAY, serif;"><span class="mwooc"><span class="mwooc-shown">Heavy Pistol 4D6 | ROF 2 | Hands 1 | Shots (8) | Concealed | </span></span></span>
                    </p>
                    <span style="font-family:PLAY, serif;"><span class="mwooc"><span class="mwooc-shown">Shotgun 5d6 | ROF 1 | Hands 2 | Shots (4): </span></span></span>

                    <p>
                        &nbsp;
                    </p>
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</blockquote>

<p>
    &nbsp;
</p>
 

As Ricky puffed away, enjoying the tabacco taste as it burned his throat with every inhale. He was often like this; enjoying the pain of lifes choices one minute, and then drowning them with whiskey the next. It was a paradox. The fella who gave him the light did not seem to be a talkative sort, but then most people on the game wern't. It was easier that way. As ge reached the end of his cigarette, a petit looking woman appeared, dressed to impress yet had the odd accessory which suggested a big "**** You!" to the system. He felt for her a little, for he knew the system could not be beat, and it always won. Nevertheless, she seemed quite confident and announced she was looking for something. 

 

Only a moment later another woman appeared, very young looking Ricky thought. 

 

Damn kids should be at home with their folks having breakfast! Yet, as she got closer, Ricky noticed there was wisdom in her eyes, maybe not as young as he thought. She pleasantly introduced herself, which took Ricky back a bit as manners were in short supply in Night City, and although he lacked them himself through the nature of his career, he sure as hell appreciated them. The second individual mentioned Pastor Robert. 

 

"Paster Robert?" He affirmed. "You too?" he asked, turning to the other woman. Exhaling a final puff of blue smoke, Ricky tossed his cigarette into the road and walked over to the pair. "Looks like we are all part of the same crew. I'm Ricky." he introduced.

 

Before any conversation could start, a thunderous noise interrupted the formalities. Ricky looked up and could see a red vehicle screaming towards them, hitting the kerb with the dull thud of rubber on concrete before screeching to a halt. The din was cut immediately as the engine was terminated.

 

"You the pastor's lot?  If'n you wanna roll 'n talk, hop in, otherwise point me where you want me.  Rather not park on a main." Came a gruff voice from inside the cab. Ricky walked over and leant into the window, one arm resting on the roof. A pungent smell punched him in the nose and he almost baked at the odour.

 

"Hey man. You the wheels? Im Ricky." He motioned over to the side street opposite. "Why don't you pull up over there? We need to talk to this dandy fella over there and get the deets."

 

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