• NOW LIVE! Into the Woods--new character species, eerie monsters, and haunting villains to populate the woodlands of your D&D games.

CB's Grim Frequencies IC -- COMPLETE

Marks snorted appreciatively at Otter's remark that Garvey could suck it. A grin curled the corner of his mouth. "C'mon. Let's get these hosers inside."

Once everyone is inside, Marks instructed T-dawg and Feral how to clean out and bandage Feral's sliced hand. "Main thing is to get out all the glass. Keep it wrapped up for a couple days, then let it air out so a scab forms. Here, take these." Marks pressed a stainless steel bowl, tweezers, iodine, gauze, and an adhesive bandage on T-dawg.

"Now, you." Marks pointed at J.R.. "Get up on the table in that room and sit down with your legs off the end." After shooting J.R. with a local anaesthetic, Marks prepped a work surface with yet another stainless steel bowl, surgical implements, a blood pressure cuff, a stethoscope, a pen light, and a syringe that he loads with 1 cc of some sort of clear solution. He talked as he works, occasionally shooting assessing glances at J.R. "First we check your blood pressure and look for an exit wound." Marks slapped the blood pressure cuff on J.R., and spent a minute getting a reading. Next, he used the stethoscope and the pen light to check J.R.'s pulse, lungs, and eyes. Obviously relieved by what he found, Marks smiled. "For a guy who just got shot, you're looking pretty good. There's an exit wound, so that's good." Marks asked J.R. to move his head and neck, and felt down the length of J.R.'s spine. "Not seeing any issues with your circulation, breathing, and doesn't seem to be a spinal injury. I'll debride with antibiotic saline and set you on a course of oral antibiotics to prevent against infection. Then a bandage over the entry and exit wounds. I'll show you how to change your wrapper...do it twice a day for the first few days, or as need be. Let me know if either wound soaks the adhesive bandage more frequently than, say, every four hours." Once Marks had J.R.'s wound cleaned and bandaged, he let J.R. up and started cleaning up the table and tools.

Next, Marks settled himself with a pad of paper and a pen at a table in the fellowship hall kitchen. It looked like he'd started making a list. "Is someone gonna make coffee?"

TIME TO SELECT GEAR. EVERYONE CAN POST A TIME OR TWO HERE IN THE IC RE: EQUIPMENT, JUST FOR RP PURPOSES, AND THEN LET'S MOVE THE CONVERSATION TO THE OOC.
 

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OOC: You are requisitioning equipment through the Federal government, which will pick up the tab. Since it's expensed, you do not need to make Wealth rolls. You'll negotiate with directly with Marks (helped by Cyril's Diplomacy, I'm sure). If you want gear for your personal use outside of what the group requisitions, you'll need to roll a Wealth check.
 

"Coffee? Sure, sounds like a job for me."

Cyril really had no idea what he was doing. His idea of making coffee was swinging by a Starbucks and ordering something horribly complicated, mostly to annoy the snooty baristas who thought they were God's gift to the free world. Still, he wanted to feel somewhat useful at the moment and cleaning wounds was NOT something he had any interest in doing.

Heading into the small supply area hidden away behind the chancel, the man first checked the cupboards. His face lit up at the sight of bottles for the briefest of seconds before remembering that most Methodist churches pussy-footed around with Communion and served grape juice instead of wine. Rooting around in one of the other cupboards, he found a jar of instant coffee. Reading the instructions, he figured it shouldn't be too difficult. Checking the expiration date, Cyril decided the coffee probably wasn't too far gone and scooped a few healthy mounds into a paper filter inside the coffee maker tray. Turning the water on, he filled up the coffee pot and then poured it into the top of the machine. Replacing the pot, he waited for the brown liquid to fill the pot. At the last second, he remembered to turn the coffee maker on, hoping the remainder of the water would heat up before the pot was full. Oops...

When the pot was finished, Cyril grabbed several Styrofoam cups, dumped a liberal number of sugar packets and stirrers into the top cup, and grabbed the pot, heading back to the area in which the team was meeting. "Coffee's ready. Who wants some?"
 
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Marks accepted a Styrofoam cup of coffee and absentmindedly took a sip. He grimaced. And swallowed. Reluctantly. He looked up a Cyril and plastered a smile on his face. "Thanks." Marks put down the cup and nudged it away from his pad of paper. He didn't touch the coffee again.

"So. Gear? Who wants what?" Marks looked around the kitchen to see who all had turned up.
 

OOC: Feral's wishlist...

Taser and/or Pepper Spray
Black Leather Jacket
Cell Phone/Smart Phone
Caltrops
Duct Tape (lots of duct tape)
Zip Ties
Backpack
Binoculars
Flashlight
Motorcycle (something sleek, fast, and quiet...not a Harley in other words)
Exercise equipment (mats, treadmill, practice dummies (the kind you hit really hard), punching bags, weights, etc)
Medical coverage to include transition related expenses (hormones, binders, etc)
 

J.R.'s wishlist:

S&W M&P 9mm with flashlight/laser attachment
Kevlar vest
Kabar Combat Knife
AR15 with scope/laser/flashlight
Suppressors for both
Cellphone
A vehicle other than the van that can fit the crew. Preferably a sedan with some zip to it for a quick getaway.
 
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Mulling over the request for a few minutes, Cyril said, "I don't think I need much. A suit or two would be nice, no reason to look like a peasant. Beyond that, maybe a bullet proof vest I could wear underneath my suits considering what happened to J.R. I've never handled a gun, but have been threatened with pepper spray and tasers before by a few dissatisfied clients of my opposing counsel. I imagine I could find my way around those. Then probably just a cell phone. That work?"
 

Marks took notes, nodding. He looked up at Cyril and quirked an eyebrow in surprise. "That's a surprisingly modest request, counselor." Marks shifted his attention to Otter. He opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, then looked at T-dawg. "What about you, Thomas?
 

"Oh! Briefcase. I probably need a briefcase." After a second of silence, Cyril looked around. "What? I mean, unless you sprung me to litigate something. In that case, I need access to Lexis-Nexis and WestLaw, as well as a leggy paralegal to do all the boring research stuff."
 

Into the Woods

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