Topic: Storage Locker and Intro (Open)

JakStryker

Date: 2013-01-12 14:53 EST
*A black full sized pickup truck rumbles into the storage facility of RhyDin. It backs up to a locker the size of a decent garage, the tailgate lowering on hydraulics. A casually dressed Jak steps out, followed by Rusty, his 120lb red fawn Akita. Rusty hops into the bed of the truck, then onto the roof, lying down to stand guard while Jak works.* ~All clear up here, Jak~ "Thanks, Rusty. We shouldn't be too long. I'm just glad the cat moved our stuff over here before he woke up." ~Yeah, that was nice of him to empty out your house and get you this locker~ *Jak works the lock and rolls up the door of the storage locker. Storage cases, metal and wooden boxes, and rolling steel cages nearly fill the locker. In the back are a few pieces of furniture, but that is not the concern now. Despite the chill in the air, Jak hangs his leather jacket on the rear view mirror. A rubber band is used to tie his hair back before he puts on a pair of gloves. After a bit of digging, he begins loading the truck: 2 foot lockers, 8 metal cans(ammo can), several wooden wire-bound boxes, a plain looking suitcase, and 3 long, serious looking plastic cases, each padlocked. Were you able to get close enough to see them, the long cases would say "Barrett", "Remington' and "Springfield". The locker door is rolled down, and relocked. An additional wire seal is placed on the door, and its number recorded. Climbing into the truck, Jak now sets to work stowing the equipment. The cans and boxes fit in a steel toolbox, the "Barrett' and "Remington' cases fit(just barely) in two boxes running the length of the bed. The "Springfield" case and the suitcase go inside the truck. This leaves nothing more than 2 plain looking plastic footlockers visible in the bed. The jacket is retrieved, and gloves stashed.* "Ok, Rusty, that's it. Time to head out." ~Got everything we need"~ *Jak produces a tennis ball and bounces it into the bed of the truck. Rusty catches it as he hops down from the roof.* "Yep. And the cat left something for you too." ~Yay! A new ball!~ "Nope, not the ball, even better. Load up, I'll show you tonight" *Man and dog load into the truck. 8 diesel cylinders rumble to life, the tailgate hydraulics raise back into place, and they drive out into the streets of RhyDin. From behind his sunglasses, Jak viewed the city differently now. Some of these people were targets, some allies, and a lot were "other". The "who's who' part would come soon enough. For now, he sipped a soda as he drove.*

The duo drove through town until a wooden sign announced their arrival at the Red Dragon Inn. Being on one of the main strips through the town it seemed like a fine place to set up. That and it was the only Inn in sight.

*Jak parked the vehicle and hopped out. Before leaving he tucks his deep red polo into his black jeans. His leather coat is now swapped for a black blazer, and a black cap is flipped onto his head. Lastly, his .45 is press checked and tucked into a holster behind the point of his left hip, under the blazer.*

"Come on, Rusty, Let's grab some food and a room." It seems whoever was manning the registration desk was on break. So Jak procures a pen and notepad and leaves them a note:

Sir or Ma"am, I am in need of a room with a view of the main street. 1 King bed and 1 twin mattress on the floor. I'll be in the bar when you get back. 6"2" 185# black hair. I'll be paying in gold. -Jak Stryker

"Next stop, the bar." ~Great'starving~ *The pair head to the bar. Jak at a stool, Rusty sitting at his feet. The barman is waved over* "Something to drink, sir?" "Double scotch; straight; something single malt and old. A bowl of water and a menu, please." *Jak sets the bowl on the floor for Rusty, sips his drink and mulls over the menu*

haddassawarrior

Date: 2013-01-12 17:08 EST
loved it can't wait to see you in chat and to view more to come (at least I hope there'll be more.

JakStryker

Date: 2013-02-28 13:45 EST
"Have you decided on dinner, sir?" "Yes, I think we have. I'll have two dozen wings, extra hot, and some onion rings. Rusty will have an individual meatloaf, cooked medium. And drink refills for us both." "I've got several different sauces back here. How hot do you want?" "Use the one with the most warning labels. That's what I usually do" ?"..Ok".you asked for it. Also the front desk tells me your room is ready. You can move your things in while I get your food going. There's a garage under the building if you have a vehicle" *The barman sets a key on the bar, and tops off the drinks* "Thank you. I'll go move a few things. But I prefer to keep my truck on the street. Hotels I'm staying in have a habit of?blowing up." *Taking the key, Jak heads back out to the truck. A bellhop's cart is snagged on the way by. Upon reaching the vehicle this cart is loaded with a footlocker, the suitcase and the "Springfield" case. Rusty hops into the cab long enough to grab his new ball. After relocking the vehicle, the pair heads up to their room. Three floors up, corner unit, decently close to the elevator and stairs, whoever was at the front desk did well.* ~Back down for dinner now"~ "Almost, Rusty, just going to unpack a couple things to let the wrinkles start falling out of them." *Out of the suitcase, Jak pulls a black suit, white dress shirt, and a tie. The suit is more wrinkled than he'd hoped, shirt doesn't look too bad though.* "OK, that will do for now. We'll have to find a cleaner tomorrow to get the suit pressed right, but for now, let's go eat." *The barman is wearing gloves as he sets the plate of wings down. Jak and Rusty walk back into the bar in time to see him taking them off inside out and throwing them away. Jak sets Rusty's meatloaf down for him and inhales 3 wings right off the bat. The barman's eyes bug out at this.* "You did use the hot sauce, right?" "Yes".How are you doing that' This stuff nearly eats through the bottle." "Ah, ok. Just practice." *Jak and Rusty eat, drink and relax, taking in the bar around them*

JakStryker

Date: 2014-02-03 22:12 EST
*Laying in wait for nearly a year((ooc: partially due to writer's block)), Jak and Rusty have grown to fit in at the Inn. They have also cultivated a reputation for manners, good taste in drinks, prompt payment, generous tipping, and never starting (occasionally ending) bar fights. Not usually one for patterns, Jak had set one just out of boredom. Morning run with Rusty. A casual walk through downtown, chatting with locals and patronizing the local market for things one would need over a year's stay in a Inn. Then, about the same time each evening, the pair would arrive at the bar to waiting drinks and a familiar bartender. Shortly after midnight, Jak pays the night's tab and retires to his room. A year of nights in the same bar, even a quiet one, will lead a person to learn a lot about the town he's staying in. All the more amplified if it happens to be the buisiest inn and bar in town. Now, all his listening, overhearing, planning, and waiting were going to pay off. Tonight it was time to go to work.* "Time to call it a night. Same bill as usual?" "Same tonight as every other, Jak. 10gold" "Come on, no sales?" "Half off on the second Tuesday of each week, I keep telling you? "Man, we keep missing it" *The end of the night banter was as predictable as the good service. Jak sets 15gold on the bar and exits with Rusty. Tonight rather than turning down the bed and going to sleep, Jak opens up one of his cases. Out of the Springfield case emerges what some may recognize as an M1A rifle. The table in the room has been moved in front of the window. He loads a single round into the magazine. Setting weapon and mag on the table, a can is screwed onto the end of the rifle. Jak checks his watch, 10 minutes. The room lights are turned out and the window opened. The extra, loosely hung screen at the window insures that from the street his room is dark as the surrounding night. Five minutes. The range is rechecked. 275yds, same as it has been the last three months. A very slight wind, but nothing of any concern at this range.* "Rusty, watch the door" ~Already there~ *Jak's only focus now was the scope on his weapon, and through it the intersection where soon".There, A RhyDin town guard pulling to a stop. Car number is right, face matches the target. At the natural pause in his breathing Jak stops. The only movement in his body is the beating of his heart and the final joint of his index finger as it presses the trigger. At exactly 2.5 pounds of pressure the trigger releases the sear and sets in motion the chain of events that will soon end this guards life. Jak didn't know this man's name; didn't know his story. Nor did he care. This man waited outside the inn every night for drunks to leave. That part did not bother Jak in the least, but the harassment, threats, beatings, and robberies did bother him. Tomorrow the station would receive a file with pictures, dates and times of this man's transgressions. But at the moment there were more important things. There was a bullet on the way to his brain. The can, or suppressor, screwed onto the end meant the usual bark of this .30 caliber rifle was no more than slight cough. As it tore through the screen, the sabot fluttered away leaving a .22 slug flying straight, true, and without rifling marks. The intended target, the left temple was reached in short order. The bullet did its job perfectly, fragmenting and turning the brain to chowder. He was dead before his head hit the passenger seat.* "Ok, RhyDin, first one is free?

JakStryker

Date: 2014-07-03 18:42 EST
*Another night, another trip to the bar. His shoes are shined, pants pressed, the .45 on his hip riding between the open collared shirt and the blazer. Ready for dinner. Jak's usual order is called back to the kitchen before the door stops swinging behind him. The customary dark beer is drawn as he pulls up a stool; Rusty ever present at his side.* "Shame isn't it?" *Jak has noticed the article Stan is reading behind the bar. A town guard got himself killed last night not far from here.* "Is it really a shame" Jak, this guy was scum. Normally I fully support the guards, but not him. He was basically a thug. Shaking down customers as they left, roughing them up if they didn't have enough money for his tastes. He sent several to the hospital. Even a few rapes. All with the protection of the Almighty Badge so no one would touch him, well, almost no one apparently. The guards do good work keeping the city safe, but every now and then one of them goes bad, and just becomes-" "A pest" "Wouldn't have been my choice of words, but yes." "Then a toast. Two whiskeys, Stan" "This punk is hardly a cause for celebration, but ok" *turns to pour the shots* "Every death is cause for a toast. Either in mourning, or in joy. Maybe a bit of both in this case: Wife, two kids".not a good day for them." "That's true Jak. *he stops to think, shots still in his hands* The paper didn't mention his family" "I know?" "What is it that you do for a living?" *setting his glass down he looks Jak in the eye so they both know it's a loaded question* "I'm just a simple exterminator" "Don't much dress like an exterminator, do you?" *Jak takes up his glass* "I guess that would depend on the nature of the pest in question." *He throws back the shot with Stan as dinner arrives, breaking the line of conversation. Jak and Rusty eat as normal, Stan tending to the bar as normal. When its time to cash out for the night, Stan reaches out and slides the 15gold coins back over to Jak* "You are all good tonight. You know Jak, I think you are going to do a pretty good business here in RhyDin: Lots of work for exterminators around here." *A knowing smile, a tip of the hat.* "You hear of any jobs, let me know. Night, Stan" "Night, Jak, Rusty"