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[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Old Man Bridger
History: -Engaging First-person Monologue-
It was a cold gray September morning when I came outside to realize it had been taken. My entire collection of vintage lawn ornaments, stolen in the night! I knew it was those damned religious nuts over in the building down the road. Damned crazy scientologists over there were always parading about with rare lawn statues and such. They took my '97, my '86, even my '53 collectors' flamingo! I knew something had to be done. A man doesn't take another man's decorations. That's a capital crime in Florida, and this place sure is sunny. I strapped on my glove and picked up my gun, and headed down the road.
Items:
Leather Glove, Black Fedora, Gray Wifebeater, Pink Bathrobe, Gray Cargo Pants, Pink Bunny Slippers, ID Card, Wallet, '90s cell phone, Bottle of Whiskey, .357 S&W Magnum(2d6), Combat Knife(LW,1d6), Sasha, Celine, Mr. Smith, Eric Clapton, Joan, Bill Nye, Henderson, Little Joe  (Combat Fitted) (Sub machine gun 1d10)
Guns: 20
Melee: 10
Agility: 35
Knowledge: 10
Charisma: 15
Abilities:
Duel Wield
11
11

You attempt to hit Thomas over the head with the first object you find. Unfortunately, this is difficult, seeing as the first hard thing you found was the wall behind you. Giving up on that, you flail your arms wildly looking for a second object. You find something that fits in your hand perfectly, kind of like a gun. An invisible gun. You bring it down on Thomas's sunglassed face, but he opens his mouth wide and blocks it with his teeth by biting down hard. He then picks up his fist, sending it toward you....

Before his fist connects, the ship finally hits into the ground. You and Thomas are thrown apart, as the flying saucer makes a crop-like circle in the snow (First a corn cob, then an apple, and finally a potato in case you are wondering) as it skips across the ground. You are battered all over by invisible walls and objects, but seem to avoid the worst of it. It finally skids to a stop, leaving both you and Thomas prone on the ground.

"FIRE! FIRE!" One of the aliens shouts. "Don't give him any ideas! The crazy one took my Glock 17! Its the exact one that the great Tom Cruise used in the third mission impossible movie!"

What do you do now?

=================

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Aiden Wainright
History: An Ex-English teacher who after getting fired because he mouthed of the head head of the school-board became a PMC after his entire squad was massacred by various Eldritch beings. He has since been tracking down any he can find and making sure they cease to exist.
Items:
-A Barrett M107A1 with bipod and custom carrying case labeled with Fenris in large gothic font. (2d12)

-A Beretta M9A1 (1d10)

-An ACU (Army Combat Uniform) with an Advanced Combat Helmet with goggles and balaclava.

-A large black trenchcoat with no pockets.

-And a large Malamute that follows him everywhere.
Armor: 5
Guns:35
Melee:0
Agility:10
Knowledge:25
Charisma:30
Abilities: One Shot, One Kill
21

((Can't decide if the obvious escape route is a trap or not.))

Every route is a trap. The more obvious ones are just more obvious traps.

================

You turn around, pushing the dumpster with all your weight on the uninjured foot. It goes a good distance, just as the man who seams to lead the gang began following you. He wasn't rushed. He didn't even raise his gun. He was calmly walking after you. When the dumpster hit, he reacted only by a momentary pause as it bounced off as if hitting a brick wall.

Of course, you had already made it to the other side of the alleyway. Even with your leg injured, it wasn't to difficult under this adrenaline rush. The fence approached quickly, but scarcely felt like more an obstacle then the paper leaning against it. You raise your shoulder into a tackling position and simply rush through the rotting wood, splinters of destroyed planks filling the ground around you. You weren't slowed a second.

Light. Intense light. You instinctively raise your hand to block it out. Four pairs of headlights where pointing directly at you, from two fully loaded black cars. Short men with bowl cuts begin pouring out of buildings on either side, joining with the sizable mob of gangsters brandishing weapons in your direction. No obvious means of escape this time...

What do you do?

[Remuthra]

GUNSHOOT!

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Old Man Bridger
History: -Engaging First-person Monologue-
It was a cold gray September morning when I came outside to realize it had been taken. My entire collection of vintage lawn ornaments, stolen in the night! I knew it was those damned religious nuts over in the building down the road. Damned crazy scientologists over there were always parading about with rare lawn statues and such. They took my '97, my '86, even my '53 collectors' flamingo! I knew something had to be done. A man doesn't take another man's decorations. That's a capital crime in Florida, and this place sure is sunny. I strapped on my glove and picked up my gun, and headed down the road.
Items:
Leather Glove, Black Fedora, Gray Wifebeater, Pink Bathrobe, Gray Cargo Pants, Pink Bunny Slippers, ID Card, Wallet, '90s cell phone, Bottle of Whiskey, .357 S&W Magnum(2d6), Combat Knife(LW,1d6), Sasha, Celine, Mr. Smith, Eric Clapton, Joan, Bill Nye, Henderson, Little Joe  (Combat Fitted) (Sub machine gun 1d10)
Guns: 20
Melee: 10
Agility: 35
Knowledge: 10
Charisma: 15
Abilities:
Duel Wield
11
11

You jump to your feet in a single motion, pointing your invisible gun at the helpless Thomas Crews. You pull the trigger twice, causing the insides of the destroyed invisible ship to echo with a resounding *Click....Click*". Of course, as this was a display piece, from a movie no less. Not only was it kept unloaded for safety reasons, but it only fires blanks, being a movie prop and all.

Thomas picks himself up by his pinky fingers, doing a random back flip as he gets to his feet. You can see the snow all around the outlines of the flying saucer melt quickly, probably due to the whole fire thing. Thomas then rushes toward you, bringing down his hand in a karate chop.

What do you do now?

[Remuthra]

Wield the gun like a lightsaber, blocking the chop, then stab Cruise in the gut with it. The only thing that can kill Tom Cruise is a Tom Cruise prop, after all.

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Old Man Bridger
History: -Engaging First-person Monologue-
It was a cold gray September morning when I came outside to realize it had been taken. My entire collection of vintage lawn ornaments, stolen in the night! I knew it was those damned religious nuts over in the building down the road. Damned crazy scientologists over there were always parading about with rare lawn statues and such. They took my '97, my '86, even my '53 collectors' flamingo! I knew something had to be done. A man doesn't take another man's decorations. That's a capital crime in Florida, and this place sure is sunny. I strapped on my glove and picked up my gun, and headed down the road.
Items:
Leather Glove, Black Fedora, Gray Wifebeater, Pink Bathrobe, Gray Cargo Pants, Pink Bunny Slippers, ID Card, Wallet, '90s cell phone, Bottle of Whiskey, .357 S&W Magnum(2d6), Combat Knife(LW,1d6), Sasha, Celine, Mr. Smith, Eric Clapton, Joan, Bill Nye, Henderson, Little Joe  (Combat Fitted) (Sub machine gun 1d10)
Guns: 20
Melee: 10
Agility: 35
Knowledge: 10
Charisma: 15
Abilities:
Duel Wield
11
11

Wait, didn't you already kill Tom Cruise with conventional weapons?
=============

You block the incoming chop, carefully making the correct sound effects as your invisible prop glock makes contact. In a single motion, you release his hand and preform an expert jab. Thomas kicks your gun, inches away from his stomach, blocking it and sending it spinning toward the rest of the invisible ship, disarming you!

What do you do now?

[Remuthra]

That was clearly a false Tom Cruise planted to lure me out, and this is the real Tom Cruise.

Kick his teeth in!

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Old Man Bridger
History: -Engaging First-person Monologue-
It was a cold gray September morning when I came outside to realize it had been taken. My entire collection of vintage lawn ornaments, stolen in the night! I knew it was those damned religious nuts over in the building down the road. Damned crazy scientologists over there were always parading about with rare lawn statues and such. They took my '97, my '86, even my '53 collectors' flamingo! I knew something had to be done. A man doesn't take another man's decorations. That's a capital crime in Florida, and this place sure is sunny. I strapped on my glove and picked up my gun, and headed down the road.
Items:
Leather Glove, Black Fedora, Gray Wifebeater, Pink Bathrobe, Gray Cargo Pants, Pink Bunny Slippers, ID Card, Wallet, '90s cell phone, Bottle of Whiskey, .357 S&W Magnum(2d6), Combat Knife(LW,1d6), Sasha, Celine, Mr. Smith, Eric Clapton, Joan, Bill Nye, Henderson, Little Joe  (Combat Fitted) (Sub machine gun 1d10)
Guns: 20
Melee: 10
Agility: 35
Knowledge: 10
Charisma: 15
Abilities:
Duel Wield
11
11

You attempt to channel Norris, bringing your foot up in a roundhouse kick as quick as lightning. Thomas, however, expertly catches your foot in his fist, leaving you vulnerable to his next attack! Light reflects off his sunglasses menacingly as his face contorts into a grin.

What do you do now?

[Remuthra]

Pull a backflip, launching him over me and into the invisible wall.

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Old Man Bridger
History: -Engaging First-person Monologue-
It was a cold gray September morning when I came outside to realize it had been taken. My entire collection of vintage lawn ornaments, stolen in the night! I knew it was those damned religious nuts over in the building down the road. Damned crazy scientologists over there were always parading about with rare lawn statues and such. They took my '97, my '86, even my '53 collectors' flamingo! I knew something had to be done. A man doesn't take another man's decorations. That's a capital crime in Florida, and this place sure is sunny. I strapped on my glove and picked up my gun, and headed down the road.
Items:
Leather Glove, Black Fedora, Gray Wifebeater, Pink Bathrobe, Gray Cargo Pants, Pink Bunny Slippers, ID Card, Wallet, '90s cell phone, Bottle of Whiskey, .357 S&W Magnum(2d6), Combat Knife(LW,1d6), Sasha, Celine, Mr. Smith, Eric Clapton, Joan, Bill Nye, Henderson, Little Joe  (Combat Fitted) (Sub machine gun 1d10)
Guns: 20
Melee: 10
Agility: 35
Knowledge: 10
Charisma: 15
Abilities:
Duel Wield
23
11

You start to preform a back flip, but just after you get off the ground Thomas starts spinning you around by the leg. Once again you feel yourself flying as he releases you headfirst into the far wall. You hit hard, your vision flashes white momentarily on impact. Once you regain your senses, you feel hot. Using your sense of smell, feeling, and fashion, you descover that you have landed directly in the invisible fire! (And you rolled two 97s in a row, congrats).

"NOW!" Thomas shouts in a voice exactly like that of Tom Cruise. There is a sound, something like a cross between thunder and a gunshot, and immediately the room is filled with blue lightning. It was like being on the inside of a Tesla coil. The bolt strikes you directly, setting your hair on end and causing your muscles to spasm briefly.

"KILL THIS CRAZY MONSTER!" The alien with a lightning gun shouts. Once again there is the sound of thunder combined with a gunshot, again causing the invisible insides to light up like a tesla coil. The lightning hits harmlessly against some object in front of you, only causing a burst of light.

What do you do now?

[Remuthra]

This is way above my paygrade. Jump out of the invisible ship and parachute on my robe.

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Old Man Bridger
History: -Engaging First-person Monologue-
It was a cold gray September morning when I came outside to realize it had been taken. My entire collection of vintage lawn ornaments, stolen in the night! I knew it was those damned religious nuts over in the building down the road. Damned crazy scientologists over there were always parading about with rare lawn statues and such. They took my '97, my '86, even my '53 collectors' flamingo! I knew something had to be done. A man doesn't take another man's decorations. That's a capital crime in Florida, and this place sure is sunny. I strapped on my glove and picked up my gun, and headed down the road.
Items:
Leather Glove, Black Fedora, Gray Wifebeater, Pink Bathrobe, Gray Cargo Pants, Pink Bunny Slippers, ID Card, Wallet, '90s cell phone, Bottle of Whiskey, .357 S&W Magnum(2d6), Combat Knife(LW,1d6), Sasha, Celine, Mr. Smith, Eric Clapton, Joan, Bill Nye, Henderson, Little Joe  (Combat Fitted) (Sub machine gun 1d10)
Guns: 20
Melee: 10
Agility: 35
Knowledge: 10
Charisma: 15
Abilities:
Duel Wield
24
11

You get up, brush yourself off, and calmly walk to what you think is an exit. Surprisingly, your right. You hop off the invisible flying saucer, making sure to use your robe as a parachute to avoid the carnage of what would happen if you landed without one from this three foot fall into deep snow. You land, making deep footprints. You seem to be sinking deeper, then realize that you are on fire. Invisible fire you got from the crashed spaceship.

Behind you, you can hear muffled yelling. "Hes getting away!" one alien states. "Who cares? He is alone, half naked, and at the north pole. He is as good as dead, lets just get out of here! We may be able to activate the emergency drives...."

Suddenly, the invisible flying saucer lifts itself, and probably flies away. Well, the snow where it landed stopped melting at least.

What do you do now?

[Remuthra]

Stop drop and roll.

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Old Man Bridger
History: -Engaging First-person Monologue-
It was a cold gray September morning when I came outside to realize it had been taken. My entire collection of vintage lawn ornaments, stolen in the night! I knew it was those damned religious nuts over in the building down the road. Damned crazy scientologists over there were always parading about with rare lawn statues and such. They took my '97, my '86, even my '53 collectors' flamingo! I knew something had to be done. A man doesn't take another man's decorations. That's a capital crime in Florida, and this place sure is sunny. I strapped on my glove and picked up my gun, and headed down the road.
Items:
Leather Glove, Black Fedora, Gray Wifebeater, Pink Bathrobe, Gray Cargo Pants, Pink Bunny Slippers, ID Card, Wallet, '90s cell phone, Bottle of Whiskey, .357 S&W Magnum(2d6), Combat Knife(LW,1d6), Sasha, Celine, Mr. Smith, Eric Clapton, Joan, Bill Nye, Henderson, Little Joe  (Combat Fitted) (Sub machine gun 1d10)
Guns: 20
Melee: 10
Agility: 35
Knowledge: 10
Charisma: 15
Abilities:
Duel Wield
24

You hit the ground (Well, snow) and roll around. There is a hissing sound as steam erupts around you, causing a deep hole to form in the snow. After a few minutes, you forget why you started and just keep rolling. Eventually you get dizzy and stop, and crawl out of the hole. You notice that your cloths now have holes in them, probably being from the fire and all. You probably got it out, but the fire being invisible and all, it is kind of hard to tell.

What do you do now?

[Remuthra]

Call out to my avian allies.

[Stirk]

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Name: Old Man Bridger
History: -Engaging First-person Monologue-
It was a cold gray September morning when I came outside to realize it had been taken. My entire collection of vintage lawn ornaments, stolen in the night! I knew it was those damned religious nuts over in the building down the road. Damned crazy scientologists over there were always parading about with rare lawn statues and such. They took my '97, my '86, even my '53 collectors' flamingo! I knew something had to be done. A man doesn't take another man's decorations. That's a capital crime in Florida, and this place sure is sunny. I strapped on my glove and picked up my gun, and headed down the road.
Items:
Leather Glove, Black Fedora, Gray Wifebeater, Pink Bathrobe, Gray Cargo Pants, Pink Bunny Slippers, ID Card, Wallet, '90s cell phone, Bottle of Whiskey, .357 S&W Magnum(2d6), Combat Knife(LW,1d6), Sasha, Celine, Mr. Smith, Eric Clapton, Joan, Bill Nye, Henderson, Little Joe  (Combat Fitted) (Sub machine gun 1d10)
Guns: 20
Melee: 10
Agility: 35
Knowledge: 10
Charisma: 15
Abilities:
Duel Wield
24

You fill your lungs with stale air as you take a deep breath, releasing a mighty "KACKAAAAAAAA" throughout the wintery wasteland surrounding you. You wait patiently for a replay, as minutes go by. A single tear reaches your eye as you begin to believe no help will come. But, in the distance, you hear the wing beats of the mighty northern fulmar! It majestically lands on your shoulders, giving off the gracefully call "Ehhehhehhehhehh" as it states its endless devotion to you.

What do you do now?