Nightwolf
Veteran
Black Rabbit
Where is my gun? Not that one, the bigger one.
Posts: 191
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Post by Nightwolf on Feb 2, 2006 0:22:49 GMT -5
When the EMT is done with her, Nighwolf goes in search of Tower to see how he is faring.
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Post by Beamer on Feb 6, 2006 15:42:21 GMT -5
Another note is written, "Bitty is out in Canyon City. She did not make it past the check points. What do I need to do to get my Mech down here? As well I would like to see that official call by the Chancellor. And I would like to know which shakes you reccomend, I am sure that I will be like this for a few days at least and am not used to Earth Foods."
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Post by Galadare on Feb 20, 2006 13:15:47 GMT -5
Nightwolf retraces her path to Tower's office where she finds him sitting at his desk. He is bent over a cardboard box that he is haphazardly dropping papers and dataspheres into. He seals the box and looks up.
"Ah, Marian. I have a favor to ask," as he hands her the box, he is visibly trembling and his voice has a slight edge to it. Nightwolf also notices that his arms are covered in what appear to be animal scratches of some kind, as though he had picked up a rather ill tempered house cat. "Please take this to Johnson, Siskel, & Brown on the corner of Lamar and Ross. Give it to Richard Brown, Esquire personally."
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Nightwolf
Veteran
Black Rabbit
Where is my gun? Not that one, the bigger one.
Posts: 191
|
Post by Nightwolf on Feb 20, 2006 19:26:28 GMT -5
Nightwolf takes the box from Tower. She inquires, "Did you get attack by some of those dog-men creatures or did you just have a bad run in with a cat?"
After whatever he answer, if he answers, she'll head over as instructed to make her delivery.
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Post by Galadare on Feb 22, 2006 15:32:46 GMT -5
Tower grins, "This is what happens when the cat learns the word Vet."
Tower closes the door behind Nightwolf and returns to his desk. Curse this infernal itch, he thinks to himself and absently scratches his arm. Reaching for the bottle of Jack Daniels he keeps in the bottom left drawer, he pours himself a double shot. He regards his hand for a moment, noting the progress of the discoloration in his wrist. Then downs the whiskey and reaches for the 9 mil in the top drawer.
He contemplates the weapon for nearly half an hour before screwing on the silencer. "Better than the alternative," he says at last. Then, with a rueful smile, Tower places the muzzle against his temple and squeezes the trigger.
OOC: The guy's name is Richard Brown, not James. Shame on me, forgetting my own NPC's name. I've fixed it in my previous post. James Brown? Honestly...
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