In reply to helbent4 (msg #13):

*Kelsey sucks on her teeth and keys her mic*

"Looking bad folks, this might turn into a firefight fast.  Welcome Stragglers, watch out for flanking and get stopped and ready to fight.  These bikers are used to doing whatever they want, and we might have to put them on ice."

*She was no cop, she was a combat vet, the thought that these people did what they wanted to people without automatic weapons, and visions of that woman's face in the park steeled her to give these men lead poisoning if needed*

"On you Mac."

Andy smiled again and chuckled as he wiped the rain drops from his HAZMAT mask that he held easily in his left hand, "That's good advice, thanks. Don't want to be becoming a statistic, do I? Anyway, I thought you might have stopped there to find out what we were doing, that's why I came up here, to fill you in on things."

Andy paused and looked at the chem detector. He tutted and frowned, "Don't nobody get jumpy a minute," he said, "I'm using two fingers to get my smokes."

Andy pulled out his pack and lit one up. he inhaled deeply and blew smoke out with some satisfaction, he looked for the biker who eyed him the most greedily and threw the rest of the pack toward him, "Share them out, pal, I've plenty more at base," inwardly he winced, it was his last pack, he glanced at the dials again and winced theatrically, "but if you want my advice, ignore the health warnings and smoke em quick,especially if you're coming down here."

He looked at the leader again, "It's OK, Boss, I got your message, I'll get the team to pull to one side and you can roar down the road to your heart's content. Do yourselves a favour though, you see the drains about half way down? Breathe deep before you pass them and hold your breath until you're round the corner. If your piss is a different colour tonight, it's time to find religion."

He took another deep drag and flicked the half smoked cigarette away. Damn, he hated this liaison shit, it'd have been a lot easier to have shot these cocky shits from afar. Still, the aim was to rebuild, not destroy. He looked at these sorry excuses for humanity, too bad...

He smiled once more and said, "Well, you all make the most of the day now, life's for living or so they used to say."

He turned slowly making a show of putting his mask back on, securing his hood and checking the sensors and shaking his head. Over his mic he sub-vocalised, "Kel, get one of the guys to stand in the gutter and start yelling about contamination and ask the Doc to get them into the ambulance as if it's a really big thing. I hope we can bluff these guys but they might be too smart or just too damn macho. Be ready for anything, if the guy can scream about not letting it get to his balls, that might get through."
He began to slowly walk back, half expecting a bullet, half expecting the Hog Boss to call him back.

Tyler pressed the kill switch near the throttle, and let the ATV quietly coast into a dark underground parking garage just one level below the street.  He squeezed the brakes gently, and put the headlight onto the Bright function, scanning the area slightly by swaying the bike back and forth until stopping near an abandoned elevator protruding from the main foundation of the building.

Quickly, Tyler took off his Kevlar helmet, and threw on an olive drab cravat to replace it, tying it in the rear.  Taking no chances, and with an equal quickness, Tyler took off his tactical vest to get on the Kevlar vest.  That done, he put the Tacvest back on, and adjusted it to his liking.  He took a moment to scan the area with his penlight before turning off the Bright function on the headlight, bringing it down to a normal ray of illumination.

He slapped the combination lock into the front wheel fork lock, disallowing anyone from moving the bike any way but in a circle.  After turning off the headlight, he threw his ruck sack, and helmet into one of the stowage hatches after grabbing a pack of Newports, and the bullhorn with 550 cord sling attached; he grabbed his gas mask, two smoke grenades, one frag, and a CN grenade.  He may need these, he mused.  Tyler closed up both stowage bins, and placed the locks on them.  Satisfied that the area was secure(for now), Tyler was ready to rock with his CAR-15 on Safe, with a round chambered, and 6 other full 30 round mags.

With one last look, he quickly moved up the exit ramp to the street, and made his way toward the ruckus near the intersection of Howe and W Pender.  He skirted the sidewalk amongst high profile vehicles that had since been abandoned, his rifle at the low ready, and his front squared off toward the possible contacts.

This could get ugly.

He made a smoke grenade, and the CN grenade readily available, each time respectively as he paused to take a knee, and scan ahead every 10 or so meters.  He took a left at Hastings, and moved briskly across the street to a parking area between the buildings ahead.  There was now a building between he and the two bikers who had rode ahead.  He took a knee, gave himself a few seconds to slow his breathing, and took a drink of water before creeping silently forward with his CAR-15 at the leveled high ready, stopping near an overhang covered sidewalk between two buildings.  A few more yards past that, and he would be on West Pender Street.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:33, Wed 20 Aug 2008.

The CBC van pulled up behind them.

A block away on either side of them, the pairs of outriders pulled up, one pair stationed a block to their north at the corner of West Pender and Granville, the other pair a block to the south at the corner of West Georgia and Granville.

Tricia and Curtis (her cameraman) got out. Curtis aimed a plastic-covered camera at the scene from behind, neatly using the telephoto lens to frame the two opposing groups.

One of the bikers expertly caught the tossed pack of cigarettes, then handed them over to the leader. He looked hard at Andy, then at the drains, now overflowing. His men were looking a little uneasy, some of the piss and vinegar leaking away.

"All right, sounds good. Don't want to get in your way." He conferred with his men for a little bit. He also looked at the TV camera pointed in his direction.

"Yo, stop by Brandie's when you're done. Tell 'em I sent ya. Drinks for you and your friends are on the Bear."

With a rumble and roar of engines, the bikes started off, first one, then the others turning north along Howe.

---

The underground parkade had been incredibly filthy. Years of no maintenance had left a thick carpet of grey concrete dust on everything, including abandoned vehicles. The wet tires quickly picked up a layer of light grey mud and dust, and the ATV had left very noticeable tracks on the way in, and his boots made clear prints on the way out.

Tyler made it out unseen into the rainy streets and alleys. The sip of water was welcome, washing out the dead gritty taste of the dust, and the rain quickly washed off his boots and clothing.

The two bikers had passed by him going east on West Pender, then slowed to stop at the corner of West Pender and Granville by the corner of the sidewalk, where they could look at something or someone parked up Granville from them.

He made his may across the street from them on West Pender, stopping about halfway down the block, behind some rain-filled empty planters in a small plaza just outside a Kinkos store with smashed windows, at the base of an office building. Across W. Pender was a boarded-up entrance to Pacific Centre Mall (which, unknown to him, stretched under 3 whole city blocks southwards).

With the rain and the loud rumble of their idling engines, Tyler knew he could practically walk up behind them if he wanted to without being noticed.

Suddenly, the rumbling got louder behind him. More bikes were coming, following their brethren up Howe to turn right on W. Pender.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:43, Wed 20 Aug 2008.

Getting used to the new desk for Taras was somehow difficult. The spartan conditions offered by the Red Army were years light behind the modern comforts of an office in the heart of a modern and dynamic institution like the University of British Columbia. The place was not exactly roomy but the chairs were quite ergonomic and with a contemporary flair. The generous amount of drawers with and without locks offered some headache. It was difficult task to start arranging files and paperwork and also determine the importance of the information to classify them.

In such search is where Sgt. Shevchenko came across with a Bible. At first he thought that somebody was trying to play a practical joke with an ex communist Officer. If so, they would rather be surprised about the true nature of the ukrainian. A man born and raised in the Orthodox tradition he was not unaware of such a book and its message:

"... In the fourth book of Moses we are told how God ordered Moses to send forth men into the land of Canaan and bring back intelligence. Twelve were chosen, one from each of the tribes, and one was even given a false name-Joshua, who was Hosea, son of Noon-entirely according to the practice of intelligence agencies. And off they went to gather reports about the giants in Canaanand the agricultural policies of this land of milk and honey..."

Surprisingly enough, it seemed that history repeated even after the Apocalypsis. A greek name meening "lifting of the veil" or probably a shortening of the phrase "apokalupsis eschaton" or "revelation at the end of the age". In any case the very last book of the New Testament. A most intriguing collection of chapters full of future imagery and mystical symbolism.

Belanger. We are going to need reports from the North Shore regarding the checkpoint that they have North of Horseshoe Bay. They control the inbound traffic. Lets see what they had in the last three weeks or so. We are going to need this update in a weekly basis. Also weekly reports on the Block Watch programs will be necessary to pinpoint the focus of criminal activity and shift resources as needed.

Looking over his left shoulder he stared at the Lower Mainland map hanging on the wall. The operational picture was sprinkled with an assortment of colorful pins indicating this or that. The Southern map was almost a big interrogation sign in this spread.

I hope the visit to the market in that tiny island will bring some results. I am hopeful with the City of New Westminster. We are gaining precious momentum and I believe that serious high talks can be set with the authorities there. This should be an strategic asset before we start closing in the airport and its more troublesome inhabitants. I wonder if we can establish at some point where are the community of individuals that are trading down South and what type of transaction they conduct.

Most of the questions presented by Taras were scribbled in a notepad of reference before being translated into operational tasks and orders and moved down the chain  for the RCMP and militia rank and file. A last lightning from the brainstorm was directed to his superior:

Boss...I was thinking about Ed the survivalist and his people. We can extend our spectrum of operations if his group is willing to cooperate with us beyond the Stanley Park takeover. They could be our lifeline with the USA. If they are willing to organise a movement here in Canada towards the establishment of a demacratic form of Government down South we can support them directing like minded refugees and we can obtain first hand accounts of the political situation. So far the current Government is not being recognised and therefore we cannot count with diplomatic relations to strength the border in both sides. We can offer some inmunity here but is in the benefit of both countries to restore normal democratic institutions. In this case I believe our Government should be protective of the Civil Rights that we stand for. And there is the military threat that they still represent...

The personal radios were finely tuned in the current frequency of the RCMP and everybody was anxious to hear news from downtown. The rain outside didn't help much to cheer the small crowd in the building. Taras put the bible in the drawer and closed it with a swift move using the right kneecap. God help us...

In reply to Taras Vladimirovich Shevchenko (msg #18):

Clarke sat by the radio, waiting to hear from Kelsey and chewing on her lip.  She wished she knew what was happening out there with her people.  She was also waiting for a report as to how the organization of a response team was going.  As she waited, she spoke momentarily with Taras and Belanger.

"We really need more information on the HA.  What their organization is like, what makes them tick, what kind of internal conflicts may be going on.  Within the chapter itself there may be factions.  There may be individuals who are members because they feel they have no where else to go.  In that they are not so different from the Stick Men.  I feel we need to deal with Stanley Park.  What we do, how we deal with the people there will set a precedent for what will follow after.

If we set the right precedent that will do a lot of our future work for us and can even help as a recruitment tool.  For instance, if Josh continues to work for us rather than getting thrown in the slammer.  We throw the book at Cyrus and those who tortured others to death for their own pleasure.  Prosecute the others who went along willingly but perhaps were not as culpable.  Anyone else we will find a way to integrate back into the populace.

That sets a precedent.  If you're a bad egg, we will send you to jail.  If you are a good person in a bad situation, we will take you in.  If you are in the middle, we will give you a chance to start over.

*Kelsey slowly rises and thumbs her rifle onto Safe, slipping back into the van and keying up the radio*

"Green 6, this is Green 1.  Green 1 Actual bluffed em out, we are in condition green.  Carrying on."

*She racks her rifle near her (figuring they would install holders) and after getting a little dry she taps out and lights up a Dumarier, offering one to Mac when he gets back in*

"Hey, good work there, could have been nasty, care for a dry smoke now?"

*She smirks a little and hands him the pack*

"Keep it, I got plenty.. sides, I prefer Players anyways"

*The difference being, Kel really did have plenty, with her supply connections the woman never did seem to run out of smokes.*
This message was last edited by the player at 11:37, Thu 21 Aug 2008.

In reply to Kelsey Sarah Champlain (msg #20):

"Green one this is green six.  Acknowledged, you are continuing recce.  Please note any blocked roads or other obstructions.  Will debrief when you return.  Green six out."  Clarke passed on to Belanger that the recce team was reporting the emergency was over and they were continuing with their mission.  She suggested letting the response teams continue with preparation.  They could treat this one as an exercise.  Besides, if the situation degraded again they'd be ready for it.

Andy sat down, puffed out his cheeks and too the smoke thankfully, "Once, two years ago I dropped sixteen crazies charging me, got the last two with my rifle butt. Those guys were a lot scarier. Still, at least I got invited for a drink. Maybe Bear fancies me, I might have to borrow your kilt to visit. We should stay alert though, they were bright enough to understand the bluff and take it, they'll be bright enough to keep us under obs. Looks like I'll need to "decontaminate" a few drains."

Tyler watched the men by the bikes for a moment, seeing if they would do anything other than what they were doing right now.  He crept out slightly, scanning the entire street both ways, trying to spot something unusual in the large labyrinth of buildings, and abandoned vehicles.  He wanted a route of higher profile vehicles to dart amongst to get across the street.  A large glass structure was across the way, boarded up, but with a few openings here and there that may be big enough for a man to get through.

As he toiled over the observations, loud bikes could be heard coming closer.  Judging by the sound, Tyler only had about 30 seconds at the most to move.  Quickly he rationalized the risk of hauling ass across the street.  If more bikes showed up, he would most likely have to play a waiting game that he didn't want to play.  It was no fun, and these days, his patience ran thin.

With that, he gave the idling bikes, and idle bikers one last look before duck walking low behind a car, and giving his best 3 to 5 second rush across the open lane between the abandoned vehicles, stopping slightly as he rounded a delivery truck.  As the loud sound of bikes got closer, Tyler slung his CAR 15, and attempted to peak inside the glass structure, using his hands to wipe off the rain and soot covered window.

*Kelsey grunts in a most unladylike fashion, blows some smoke out and grins*  "I'll be in the van, knock yourself out"  She laughs and shakes her head  "You know, most of the people we fought in the war were not there because they enjoyed killing, or pushing people around, professional soldiers, you know?  Totally different breed than those scum.  The fall of society is a boon to them, and the restoration of normalacy is a bane.  We come back here it will have to be by sneak, or by force, and object lessons will likely have to be made, and displayed, to get their attention." She bangs her hands on the steering wheel "Fuck all, why do the worst scum have to survive like cockroaches?"

In reply to Taras Vladimirovich Shevchenko (msg #18):

"That is a good idea, I will make sure to get that information from Bulat. And pass on the recce by thermal viewer."

"Regarding the political situation down in the 'States, there is a legal government, it's just that its writ doesn't extend into the Pacific Northwest. That territory is still held by renegade military."

Of course, that was merely one interpretation of the uncertain political situation in the USA. From the military's point of view, they were simply refusing to recognise the civil government's authority due to irregularities in the way it was constituted. That was, until a proper census was organised and elections were held. The civilian government had in fact recently taken such a census and held elections according to the Constitution in its area of control, but the military hadn't quite gotten around to doing that itself... yet.

"Be that as it may, we should get some kind of clarity from the US government how they want us to handle their citizens, especially armed ones. Also, we may start seeing wholesale desertions of military units across the border. Something for Ottawa to get on, I guess, and we can ask them."

Belanger thought about Clarke's input.

"We've had success in gaining an intelligence source in the Stickmen's organisation. Why not think of doing the same with the Hells?"

"Bikers and soldiers often get along quite well. They have a paramilitary structure, a code of honour and behaviour (of sorts), the feeling of being apart from (if not actually above) civilian society and being a part of a "band of brothers"; and the acceptance of violence (although their brawling fighting style and criminal terrorising of the weak are worlds apart from true soldiers). The HAs have always made a point of cultivating contacts in the military to supply them with weapons (at least until the 80's) and Outlaw Motorcycle Gangs in general are always interested in recruiting military personnel into their ranks because of their training and experience."

Getting a reaction team together took very little time for Lee.

CPL Lee was in the middle of tactical training for members of the RCMP detachment, and they were thus already armed and equipped for action.

She also contacted SGT Fox, who was training members of the UBC militia, and together they were able to put together a well-armed scratch force of 30. Within a few minutes transport was brought up and the whole force kept on standby.

Within 5 minutes of the alert, Fox contacted Clarke.

"Commander, we have a reaction team of 30 armed and ready to go. Automatic weapons, plus the C6 GPMG and the RPG-7. We only have light-skinned vehicles at the moment."

Tyler made it across the street without being seen. The bikers at the corner of Granville and W. Pender had their backs to him, and couldn't hear him over the rain and the rumbling idle of their unmuffled bikes.

It was obvious when he reached the doors to the building that people were using the entrance on a regular basis. Some of the plywood had been pried away to allow access. It was almost impossible to see anything inside through the flithy glass, which where intact was smoked and where it was gone was boarded and taped up. Still, the sign above the entry said "Pacific Centre", which was a good clue it was a shopping mall of some kind.

Several bikes were starting to round the corner from Howe onto W. Pender behind him. Tyler was probably pretty hard to see in the darkness under the overhanging building, and there was piles of trash like broken furniture and shelving units, and quite a lot of non-functioning computer components (monitors, towers, keyboads) piled around and just outside the doors.

---

Up the street in the HAZMAT van parked in the intersection of Granville and Dunsmuir, Kelsey shared a smoke with Andy and gave a SITREP to the HQ out at the Uni.

The CBC team did some filming of the deserted streets around them.

Dr Pang, a short middle-aged balding asian man, came up and knocked on the window of the van. Rain streamed off the hood of his long Gore-Tex ambulance service jacket.

"Are we going to stay here long? I think I see some people watching us in the Hudson's Bay building, about a half-block down the street. Maybe we should go meet them?"
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:28, Fri 22 Aug 2008.

Andy said to Kel, "We survived too, and we're supposed to be the good guys. Thanks for the smoke."

He heard the Doc's question and pinched out the coal, saving the rest til later, "That's a good point Doc, I'll get into the Noddy suit and take some samples from the drains, I'll have to carry the bluff through in case we're under OBs. If your people can help, we'll be quick but make it look realistic. Then we can meet those people. Is that OK, Sir?"

In reply to Andrew Montgomery McRae (msg #29):

Green one this is green six.  We have a reaction team on standby.  What is your situation?  We can have them to your location in one-five mikes.

To Lee and her team, "For now have them keep the engines warm.  I think the recce team is OK but you never know when things might go south."

Tyler could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up as more bikes appeared in the area.  He turned slightly, noting that all the piles of junk set up in a seemingly defensive way around the entrance to this place were blocking the view between himself, and the bikers.  He smiled with relief, and found a hole just large enough for he and his gear hanging off of him to fit through it.

As he stepped inside, he could hear the pitter patter of rain hitting the skylights overhead, with much of it leaking its way through to the floor at his feet.  The sounds of the bikers and their bikes had become slightly quieter now, and like the volume, Tyler's worry over them decreased.

A new apprehension had come over him as he leveled his CAR 15 to a comfortable low ready, and prepared to move through the dimly lit foyer of this mall.  He clicked on the small tactical radio at his chest, and set the small ear piece to his ear, adjusting the volume to a comfortable level as he began walking quietly through the foyer of the mall.

He waited to hear some sort of talking over the net before speaking, so as not to jeopardize his comms, and moreover, his current position. He took a knee, and got another quick drink of water, then went back to moving just swiftly enough to have a rhythm, but slow enough to scan for anything suspicious, or something of good use.

He pondered his new worries, and formed a short question in his mind.

Why were all those junk piles out there like that?
This message was last edited by the player at 04:22, Sat 23 Aug 2008.

The foyer was dark, there was no light. However, Tyler could smell people had been living in this building, a combination of body odor, smoke and food, but thankfully no human waste.

There was some trash littered around, and once his eyes adjusted to the gloom he could see footprints in the dust around the entrance he'd just some through. Outside behind him, he could hear motorcyle engines echoing off the buildings.

He took a few steps in and was about to switch on the light clipped to his LCB when a flashlight clicked on from about 20m away to his 10-o'clock, illuminating him. A voice off to his right (3-o'clock position) said,

"Hey man, looking for the Boxing Day sale at the Bay or something?"

Thankfully, he didn't hear the sound of weapons being cocked, only the sound of his breathing and rain dripping off him onto the tiled floor.

---

Outside and up the street in the van, Andy struggled into his HAZMAT "Bunnysuit". Really all protective garments tended to be called that, from the white HAZMAT coveralls to NBC/MOPP suits. Better make this look good...

Down Granville at the corner of West Pender, they could see the par of bikers sitting on their Hawgs and watching them. The sound of engines grew louder from that direction, indicating that's where the mass of bikers were headed, bypassing them to the north along West Pender.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:30, Sat 23 Aug 2008.

Tyler had been through a lot in his young years, and sort of a sixth sense was within his soul.  As the flashlight clicked on, even before the ray of light washed over him, a cold chill quickly ran down his spine, as if his senses knew it was coming even before it actually did.

It took his mind a few seconds to quickly jog to catch up with his nerves, a slight vibration in his ears bringing him to a higher heart rate, and a heightened state of fear.  No man was fearless, though Tyler was akin to channeling the fear into all the right places.

Tyler stopped walking after making a few smaller strides toward the light.  No use in closing either eye as he was caught completely off guard, and his night vision was not even mature enough to be lost.  He let the CAR-15 drop across his chest, and hang by the tactical sling.  He looked in the direction of the unlit voice, and didn't show or emote anything.  Instead he kept his eyes glued to the general direction of the voice, and began raising his palms to shoulder level.

Once his hands were slightly raised, hopefully showing his signal of being neutral, he spoke.

"I'm just here to get dry, and do a little shopping," he said in a monotone voice.

"Maybe you could give me a trifold, or a guide to the place," he added with a slight smirk.

Suddenly, Tyler recalled the gear he had grabbed before stepping, and smiled inside that he had the super concentrated tear gas, and gas mask.

Like I said, this could get ugly.

In reply to Tyler Gabriel Hope (msg #33):

He was answered with a dry laugh by the unseen man who sounded like he was in his 30's and had a slight sing-song accent of some kind, perhaps Jamaican.

"No problem man, long as you're not gonna cause trouble or nothin'."

The light flicked over to Tyler's right and illuminated the space to the right of the doorway. It appeared to be a fast-food restaurant franchise of some kind called "Tim Hortons".

He could see when she pointed the light away from him that it was a young woman holding the light, and she appeared to be unarmed. "How about a double-double and a 24-pack of Timbits?"

Tyler saw there was a wide desk of some kind and that the mall foyer also formed part of an elevator lobby for the office building above.

The man continued, still unseen, "you look like a yank, right? Well, either way, you can come in and dry off."
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:57, Sat 23 Aug 2008.

Tyler's shoulders noticeably relaxed, and he carefully put his hands down, resting them atop his weapon as if he were leaning on the railing of a balcony.  He was indeed a yank, and nodded at the notion.  Seeing clearly a large section of the lobby before him, Tyler moved about the area for a few seconds before answering the woman.

"I am fine, thanks," he said with a smile before turning to the man nearby.

"Yeah...I am an American," he said matter-of-factly.

"If it means anything, it really shouldn't...I am just trying to keep on keepin' on...ya know?"

Tyler continued to negotiate the area before him as the fast food type place lit it.  He was trying to allow his eyes to catch something of importance without alarming the two hospitable people near him.

"What exactly is this place...well...now, at least?" he asked them.

From in the rear of the elevator lobby, a light flared and a Coleman lantern was lit.

The man carrying it was a young light-skinned black man with a shaved head. He was wearing a surplus US woodland-pattern camouflage jacket and ripped jeans. A silver stud glinted in his left ear.

"Come on, have a seat. I'm Nathaniel. It's okay, Elise."

He sat down in one of the tables in Tim Hortons. The woman moved to have a look outside the boarded-up entrance. She had a slingshot on the wrist of the hand holding the light, although it was empty at the moment.

"Well you know, people always gonna be people. Always gonna be Canadians and Americans, Russians, Japanese, Vietnamese... don't mean they have to be enemies, eh?"

Taking out a silver flask, Nathaniel took a swig, then offered it to Tyler. He gestured around them.

"This, as you can see, was a shopping mall. Lots of clothing stores. When they evacuated the city and then the bombs went off, not everyone could or even wanted to make it out. This is one of the places the government made into a fallout shelter, this and the tunnels and the other malls under the downtown."

He held the hissing lantern over a sign on the floor. Dirt and dust covered it, but Tyler could make out a triangle-shaped logo and the words:

EMERGENCY SHELTER - by Order of Health Canada

ABRI D'URGENCES - selon l'ordre de Santé Canada

The rest of the words were gone with the lower half of the flimsy sign.

""Few months after the bombs went off, people started coming out of the underground. There wasn't anyone in the city. All gone. Dead, who knows? Guess they just kind of forgot there were survivors here. It was winter then, and we still needed a place to stay, so we just ended up living here."

"We grow food in the parks and on the rooftops, salvage what we can. We don't have a lot to trade at the moment. If you're new here, one piece of advice: stay outta the Angels' way. But I hear they're hiring Yanks, Canucks, any ex-soldiers, you lookin' for work."
This message was last edited by the GM at 12:29, Sat 23 Aug 2008.

Tyler gave a small wave off with his hand at the sight of the offered flask.

"I can't really risk being buzzed right, now, Nathaniel," he said in a low voice.

"I gotta be able and willing for whatever comes my way...booze has a habit of doing the opposite of that for me," he concluded with a chuckle.

He came closer, and moved into the small open area that was 'Tim Horton's,' but continued to stand.  He leaned against a wall, and watched the two people interact.  They seemed to be perhaps married; Tyler had a bad way of reading people in situations like these-the kind where people were just barely living a good life.  Hell, they could be best friends.  He really couldn't say...just yet.

Tyler looked about the small shop, and attempted to take in whatever wares these people may have.

"What will I find if I continue on into this place, Nathaniel?"

He outstretched a hand, fingers together, pointing toward the bowels of the mall with his entire palm.

In reply to Tyler Gabriel Hope (msg #37):

The Tim Horton's was segregated from the rest of the lobby by a waist-high wall, and the booths were built into other similar walls. They were wood and chrome, and may or may not be protection from bullets.

At any rate there really wasn't a wall nearby except for the front counter (further in) or the exterior wall, so Typer positioned himself against the latter. Nathaniel eyed him from about 3-4m away, between him and the interior of the building. Next to Tyler was another separate entrance to the restaurant, chained on the inside and boarded up.

"What'll you see if you go further in? Not a lot of anything. Some people, I guess, 'cause they live here, you know?"

He shook his head.

"Don't think anyone would fuck with ya, on account of you lookin' like a badass and all, no offence. But you might want to stay on the safe side and keep close to the doors, here. Some folks might feel threatened by some stranger walkin' around their house."

"Sorry, didn't seem to catch your name?"

As he stood there, Tyler could hear sounds from further in the dark complex. At least a couple people were moving around in the darkness, and he thought he could see a tiny glint of candle flame indirectly reflecting off a shiny surface, although he could not see the exact source.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:18, Sat 23 Aug 2008.