Forums » Sci-Fi Roleplay » Boards of Bounty (1x1 Closed)

Background: The continent of Ergaea has seen many advancements over the past one hundred years. It has rapidly developed since the discovery of various forms of energy production. Burning of natural resources pulled from the ground, the plentiful steam pushed through mechanisms, and the methodical passing of energy through the turning of gears. Each one of these three pilots has seen pinnacles and gatherings of individuals who specialize in crafts that utilize their source. There has been some convergence, but regions have devoted themselves to specializations for the time being for development.

Even under the rule of King Felix II, the abundance of opportunities and ignorance of their potential allowed a blossoming of criminal activities. For years the streets were ruled by the strongest or smartest individuals. That was until the Bounty Hunter's Guild was established by the citizens who couldn't take being unfairly controlled by those with ill wills. Volunteers ventured out to thwart the injustices presented to the land. As the Guild gained more participants and momentum, the ruling body began backing the Guild and eventually adopted it into their tools to use. To keep the jobs clearly identified for access from both novice and veteran hunters the bounties were divided into fifteen different ranks which sorted them from least to most dangerous. As Bounty Hunters complete jobs, they are given a Rank of their own which grants them permission to take on more dangerous tasks.

Beginning Post:
"Rank fives...Remind me never to go to this town again," the greasy pilot rolled hazel orbs around their sockets as he grasped the most interesting of the postings from the tavern's Bounty Board. "Disruptive Behavior, Solicit Gambling...Maybe this one's not so bad. Alright, there you are. Maybe I'll have have a bit o' fun before cashin' you in." Tristen's left thumb tapped lightly on the character sketch of the criminal to be. The gloved hand attacked a sudden discomfort under his prickly chin before the Rank Twelve Bounty Hunter turned to the entrance, setting out to find out more about the less-than-worthy Rank Five troublemaker.

Cori sat in an alley way, waiting impatiently for her contact. She leaned against the building, crossing her arms. She wondered if the poor bastard got picked up, seemed bounty hunters were multiplying these days. She glanced around the alley way, if he wasn't here in ten minutes she would forget the parts for her pod and just leave.

Ten minutes passed, and Cori pushed herself up off the wall, walking towards the end of it and headed home. Getting parts these days seemed to be more of a hassle than anything. She ran a hand through her short pink hair and sighed, she could always just make something from scratch she had enough scraps of metal around to weld into something else. She walked down the street, keeping a wary eye out, she had been busted once when she was younger due to a fatal mistake, but now they were after her again since her reputation had risen among the ranks of racing. She didn't participate in any of the other illegal activity that most racing groups did, she was there for the thrill, and the danger. She had the fastest pods in Ergaea, and that drew a lot of attention to herself good and bad. Unfortunately a lot of bad men had muscled her into building them pods, not only did she not want to do it, but it made her a bigger target for bounty hunters as well.

Posting tucked away in one of the pockets of his leather jacket the Bounty Hunter scoured the streets for any signs of what he was looking for. Gambling...well, if I was gamblin', I'd probably keep it to the inside. Tristen reflected on what else the posting had said. Specifically, disruptive noise from vehicles...Hmmm... He figured he'd ask around, perhaps someone knew her and would point him in the right direction. Eyes shifted from side to side as he searched for the seediest looking merchant or pedestrian he could find. A particularly dirty stall runner...if that's what you'd call a man who sets out hunks of metal with prices written on paper stuck to them would be classified, caught his eye. "'scuse me but....you wouldn't happen t' know a "Rocket" would you? I need to um...find 'er to deliver some ...parts. Any ideas where I can find 'er?"

The man glanced up, narrowing his eyes slightly. "Yea I know a Rocket, she usually has parts delivered to her shop. It's down the street that way, then make a left when it dead ends. Since you're going there anyways I have a piece that needs to go to her, mind taking it?" the man asked.


Cori made it back to her shop, which appeared to be shut down and not operating. She opened the side door, glancing around before going inside. She sighed once she was inside and shut the door behind her, throwing her things on her already cluttered couch. There were parts everywhere, her shop was a cluttered mess, everything mixed together. She walked over to a half built pod, putting her hands on her hips as she looked at it. Her deadline was a week, and she had three days left. She frowned, grabbing her goggles off the pod and put them on. She crawled underneath it, grabbing a blow torch and began working on it more.

(bump, case you didn't see)

"Left....dead end. Got it. Yeah, I'll take the part to 'er, no problem." It was a simple part, Dieselien in descent. An impact cylinder, six gauge from the size of it. But why would he only need one delivered, he wondered? The name implied not only its size but also its grouping. Six were generally needed to give the engine enough power. Tristen only gave the anomaly a quirked brow before nodding in gratitude to the man and proceeding on his journey.

There seemed to be nothing in this dead end. To an unaware eye it'd look as if the buildings on either side were the only attraction unless one were to have an unfortunate encounter. Following the instructions the Bounty Hunter glanced to his left. Sure enough there was a slightly worn wooden frame to his left. You'd think with race earnings this Rocket girl 'dve had better quarters... his mind pondered as his right hand hammered four times. For a moment Tristen considered going completely out of character and shouting his business with her obnoxiously. That moment passed by quickly as the sheer ridiculousness played out in his mind, leaving him nearly disgusted with the concept.

Cori was welding underneath her pod when she heard the door, she rolled out from under it and rose a brow as she looked at the door.

"Just a minute!" she called out, getting up and pulling her goggles up on her head. She had smears of grease all over her face and clothing as she opened the door.

She was a bit surprised to see someone she didn't know, but saw her part in his arm. Something told her to be careful, he didn't look like a delivery boy. She frowned slightly, wiping the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. "Can I help you?" she asked, leaning on the door frame.

Admittedly this man was a caliber of clean above most of the people he had seen let alone for any delivery boy currently being circulated about the city. "Erm, yes. Rocket, is it? 'ere." He holds up the cylinder gauge with little grace for her to take. "From the parts merchant just down the road over there." After giving her a few moments to take the part from him Tristen's head slowly peeked inward through the open door's threshold. The place was swamped with parts as his gaze analyzed her environment, only ignoring her greasy presence for a few moments. "Happened to be lookin' for you m'self and figured I'd do him a favor. So you're a mechanic too eh?" Smalltalk was a good start. Stating the obvious....probably not so much. He hadn't even thought of the words rolling from his lips until after he heard himself speaking them. So much for trying not to look like a complete moron. That could be to his advantage however, he reasoned mentally.

She glanced up at him after she examined the part he gave to her and nodded. "Yea I'm a mechanic, but went out of business awhile ago if you can't tell." she said, being very careful at what she said. "You were looking for me? Funny, usually means trouble when someone is looking for me."

Rocket set the part to the side, staying where she was in the door way. "So what do you want? I don't have all day, tight schedule." she said, rubbing the back of her neck. Her eyes roamed his form, wondering what business he could have with her.

"Out of business? You could've fooled me. Anyways, considering I'm deliverin' this to you and all, I guess the rumors I heard were true. About your...hobby?" A slender smile slithered across his lips as his eyes locked onto Rocket's. He went silent for a few moments to allow her to respond to the bait. Criminal or not, people in this sort of situation wouldn't come right out in the open about such activities.

She blinked at him, "Look if you are looking for pod repairs, the guy who gave you this part is good, and he is cheaper than half the shops in this town." she said, putting her hand on the door to close. "I'm sorry, but I don't have extra time to work on anything for you." she smiled and then nodded her head, "Thanks for the part." she said, going to close the door.

"Oh, so I guess you're not doin' so well on the tracks, the way you put things there. And here I was, thinking I had stumbled upon one of the better racing pilots." Tristen shrugged his shoulders and turned around. "And to think I was going to put money down on you to win in the next competition." The airship pilot was oblivious but curious. He padded a few short steps out of the dead end, a frown donned across his face.

She opened the door back up, frowning slightly. She put her finger to her lips and shh'd him, "You're not very bright if you talk about those things in public. That's how you get killed, or arrested." she said, leaning back against the door way. "What do you want?" she asked, looking him over again. He really did not seem like the type who raced pods illegally.

"I guess you can say I'm lucky then. Or a dead man walking." A small, singular laugh puffed from his lips. "I want to get as close to the action as possible without actually racing. Pick up a thing or two about them in case I change my mind later. So I figured workin' is probably the next best thing. A mechanic job. And you DID say you're rather busy. I happen to have a bit of a background in airship repair, of all energy focuses if that helps. I'm a Jack in a sense." Tristen's hands nestled behind his head as he stayed with his back turned to her. "With the way the world's been goin' the good jobs are nothing but table scraps and or a noose around y' neck. Might as well go big, ya?"

"You want a job?" Rocket asked, blinking at the man. She pushed her mouth to the side frowning slightly, she could use the extra help. What if it's his only option? she thought, frowning slightly. "Alright, you can do some small jobs for me." She always had a weakness for the less fortunate. She stepped to the side, gesturing into the shop, "Come on, you can start now." she said, glancing up at him.

Two hands slapped together as Tristen spun around, a wide grin on his face. The tension on his face seemed very uncharacteristic for him. It was as if he was trying far too hard to smile. "Excellent! Thank you!" Quickly his feet trotted through the door and his eyes quickly took to scanning the room. Now that I'm in, it's just a matter of playing out m' fun until it's time to take her in, his mind wandered. The clutter of her inner sanctum reminded Tristen of his younger years when Fatty brought him aboard to teach him the tricks of the airship mechanic's trade. The memories were quickly pushed out of his mind which cured him of his gin and perky attitude. "What ch'ya want me to do first?"

Cori raised a brow slightly at his reaction and shook her head a little, "Uhm yea, uhh well I guess you can work on that radiator for me. As long as you know what your doing, I need that done by the end of the day, but my other deadlines are getting in the way" she said, walking back over to the pod she had been working on. She sat down on the floor in front of it and glanced up at him, "Sorry about the mess, I'm always too busy to actually clean...ehh most of the tools are laying around so you just kind of have to find them." she said, rubbing the back of her neck. She must look like a slob, she thought as she frowned. She laid back and pulled herself under the pod and put her goggles back on, going back to welding. "So you're into racing?" she asked, shouting over the sound of her blow torch.