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About Sam Spaid

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  1. Before this evening Sam would have not considered herself a coward. She wasn't even particularly skiddish when it came right down to it. You didn't tend to get far in the police if you were, there were plenty of desk jobs for those without the mettle for a street job. That or a meter maid. Somewhere in the front of Sam's brain this reflection was taking place as the primitive lizard portion of her hind-brain took over, sending her into fleeing prey mode. In bare seconds a wolf the size of a Buick had all but eviscerated a woman not a yard from where Sam had somehow managed to not wet herself. Flight seemed a pretty good option after that, she only hoped that the thing would be too busy devouring the other woman to give chase. So she ran. The path she somehow kept to led her away from the street and toward a large stone building. Her instinct was starting to recede, replaced by adrenaline soaked consciousness that would better serve her in the aftermath of immediate flight. She charged up the steps, two at a time, propelled by fear power legs and all but dove through the door. Somewhere her hat had gone missing, she lamented as she slammed the door behind her. No, it had flown off but was caught in her ponytail. She shook her head and then saw them. Brad and the other man; the monster of dead flesh and supernatural blood. "Freeze." ... and she did. Resist, kinda [jameson] 9:14 pm: ok spending a WP then (5/6) [Carver] 9:14 pm: Mortals have no powah! [jameson] 9:14 pm: Resolve 3 + 3 jameson *rolls* 6d10: 1+7+5+10+3+6: 32 jameson *rolls* 1d10: 10: 10 jameson *rolls* 1d10: 6: 6 [jameson] 9:15 pm: 2 sux [Carver] 9:15 pm: Aww, for a moent I thought it was going all the way! [Carver] 9:15 pm: moment*
  2. Blood splashed over the windshield. Sam shuddered at the sound, the scream, the sound of flesh being torn, the snap of bones cracking in the woman's shoulder. The detective struggled to keep it together. Then the blood dripped into her hair, a warm wetness. Sam reached a hand back and touched the spot. Her hand came away slick with blood that looked almost black under the orange light of the street lamps, and the last of Sam's resolve fled. Pushing herself off of the SUV she ran, her gun before her in a white knuckle grip. Wits+Comp ameson *rolls* 3d10: 7+4+2: 13 [jameson] 9:00 am: heh, fleesville, population: Sam
  3. If Sam could have pushed through the SUV's door, or somehow slide under the vehicle in her current position she likely would have. The wolf, That's no wolf, that's goddamned nightmare! rushed the ghoul woman. Jaws the size of hedge trimmers snapped shut on her shoulder even as momentum and mass carried them both past the SUV and into the street in front of the parked car. Ohshitohshitohshitohshit. Sam's hand couldn't find the opening of the pocket. She kept rubbing her hand on the tee shirt covering her roiling belly. The heavy composite weapon bumped her wrist however and her instinct managed to right the figurative ship enough for her hand to squirm backwards and outside the sweatshirt. The cool fiberglass and polymer body of the Glock slid into her hand like an "L" shaped bundle of courage. She yanked the gun violently from the cotton pocket, and thumbed the safety. Dimly in the rear of her mind she was relived that she had neither vomited nor peed herself. Small favors on what she was starting to fear was the night she would die. anti-blubbering like a scared little girl [Velvet] 3:19 pm: Jim: A giant wolf mauling a woman roughly 6 feet away? Within leaping distance? I'd say -3 to throttle back on the instinctual panic. [jameson] 3:19 pm: works for me Vivi, thanks [Velvet] 3:19 pm: Welcome jameson likes horror in his modern horror games [jameson] 3:20 pm: Wits 3 + Composure 3 - 3 situational penalty jameson *rolls* 3d10: 2+3+8: 13 [jameson] 3:20 pm: ha! Sam manages to draw her glock.
  4. Sam saw the woman coming a mile away, or a good dozen yards at any rate. Oh, crap! Her hand darted to the small of her back, her waistband, where her gun ... wasn't. Shit! Stupid, stupid! A little less consideration for stealth, or maybe vainity, and a little more toward practiced routine and her gun could have been where it always was. Instead it was shoved haphazardly into the sweatshirt pocket on her right because between the tight leggings and the short sweatshirt, a gun would have stood out above her ass plainly. The woman turned suddenly as Sam fumbled for the Glock. Behind her was something unreal, a wolf the size of a compact car, and three times as frightening. Sam saw Bonita's hand going for her own gun, and could only feel a tickle of gratefulness that she was now occupied with the half wolf half Yugo. A stray shaft of light, orange halogen from the street, illuminated the beasts face showing a pair of silver eyes like headlights and a mouth full of ivory teeth that made Sam flinch backwards, bumping into the SUV behind her. Initiative [jameson] 8:45 am: Initiative: jameson *rolls* 1d10: 4+5: 9
  5. Sam flitted from car to shrub, to mailbox and back to another car. Moving from shadow to shadow taking cover behind whatever cast a long shadow and would block the view from ahead of her if one of them happened to look back. Sam thought she was doing well, nobody up ahead had turned to look back, and she was keeping up with them easily enough despite the dark of the night. And then one went missing. Sam was following three shadows when she lit behind a tree. Emerging after a moment there were two remaining. One was gone; the woman. Sam cursed to herself and skidded to a halt next to an SUV. Crouching low she cast furtive glances around into the darkness hoping to catch the woman, What was her name again? Bonita, before she got caught blindsided. Crap. Perception [jameson] 8:40 pm: making a perception roll jameson *rolls* 6d10: 6+10+7+6+9+8: 46 jameson *rolls* 1d10: 6: 6 [jameson] 8:40 pm: 3 sux [jameson] 8:41 pm: yes? [Carver] 8:41 pm: Yes, 3 sux.
  6. So that was me saying yeah, I'm in. And yeah, my avvie, and Velma there are the same actress.
  7. I hope you don't mind but I kept the stories that we had written together prior to the reboot as official backstory for Sam. I'd be more than willing to collaborate again if/when you rejoin. Alternately if you prefer to remove that connection I can go back and edit those out. jameson
  8. Like I said "as applicable" I can add your tag to Part 1 for instance, and part 3 ...
  9. August 24th, evening The last arc of the sun lay simmering on the horizon, burning a deep blood red, and staining the city like some kind of profane prophecy. Long shadows stretched out into the crimson light like ghastly claws stretching through pools of blood. Sam sat in her car and fought against the raw nerves that were making her regret getting out of bed that morning. She was clad in black from head to toe, a conceit to stealth that did nothing to help cope with the late day heat. Black boots, leggings, tee-shirt under a black sweatshirt, and a black ball-cap with her hair pulled through the loop in the back. Her car was parked down the street from Brad's bloodsucking leech of a master's home, and she was waiting and watching. Once the sun fell below the horizon, which would be very soon by the way the ember was dripping down toward the sea, the creature would wake and then it and it's blood addled slaves would apparently leave apparently to rob the UCLA business school. Sam intended to shadow them, follow them to hopefully win an opportunity to free Brad from the monster's clutches, if that was even possible. The woman, Bonita, probably deserved it too, or maybe she had at one point; now she was as cruel and evil as her master, but she was at least human. The whole process wasn't an exact science. Hell, it's barely even a plan, Sam grumbled to herself. Night fell. Officially. That just meant that the last burning trace of the sun finally fell below the horizon. In actuality the dark merely took a stronger hold as the last long streamers of direct light evaporated into nothingness. Twilight now clad the city in in dim light that would wane for the next hour or two before full dark finally banished the last of the reflected natural light. In her car, Sam lurked like a living shadow until the barely glowing hands of her watch indicated half past ten. The garage door rolled up and a van backed out. Sam started her own car and followed the van, sparing to thought to the possibility that all three may not be within. Whichever of them drove they drove carefully, never going above the speed limit, never running a light or rolling through a stop sign. It was so conspicuously safe and legal that only somebody unaccustomed to crime would think to drive that way. The drive took nearly forty minutes but finally they breached the campus perimeter. The van stopped, the lights going out immediately. Sam quickly pulled into a spot further down the street and got out of her car. In all black she was a shadow walking in darkness, and she hoped that that would be enough. The three figures got out of the van and started walking, Sam wondered why they didn't drive directly to the business building, but then figured that it would be more conspicuous for a van than for three figures with fully laden backpacks. Whatever they were planning to steal would be small and valuable. That or there was more to the plan that Sam would learn in time. It didn't matter, she'd find out soon enough. She trailed along behind the three, her rubber sole boots making little noise, and her slim, black clad form darting from tree to shrub, to car. Up ahead the two ghouls plodded on with singular purpose, oblivious to their tail. Henrik was a hunter, and man with experience. He had made Sam long ago, almost as soon as they left the haven. He smiled; tonight's meal had come to him. Shadowing Sam [jameson] 9:20 pm: Dex 2 + Stealth (shadowing) 2(3) = 5 dice, just for giggles and drama jameson *rolls* 5d10: 6+4+2+1+3: 16 [jameson] 9:22 pm: Brad 5 dice jameson *rolls* 5d10: 6+5+1+7+3: 22 [jameson] 9:22 pm: Bonita 6 dice jameson *rolls* 6d10: 5+3+4+7+2+7: 28 [jameson] 9:23 pm: lulz [Jeremy] 9:23 pm: lol [jameson] 9:23 pm: Henrik 5 dice jameson *rolls* 5d10: 10+8+8+9+8: 43 jameson *rolls* 1d10: 2: 2 [Jeremy] 9:23 pm: ....your luck run out [jameson] 9:23 pm: ruh-roh [jameson] 9:24 pm: Sam's gonna need some help [Jeremy] 9:24 pm: hmm... [Owns-The-Night] 9:25 pm: The Yard Snake to the rescue!
  10. With HTML on and using the "Paste from Word" button I was able to put tables from MS Word (2003) into my charsheet and regain a decently neat formatting.
  11. "Ewww," Sam murmured, alone in her car. The strange man, pale and still, allowed Brad to suckle at the slice in his arm. Sam's stomach churned, but thankfully while it was disturbing there wasn't anything else happening to push her over the edge. She watched, transfixed in horrified fascination, as Brad lapped and sucked up the black ichor that flowed from the other man's arm. Sam was pretty sure the other man was a vampire. She knew Brad wasn't, walking around in daylight told her that much, even if it was near to dusk at the time. Sam hadn't been around a vampire in a long time. Adrian had disappeared a many months back, but not before reluctantly, and certainly unintentionally, pulling the curtain back a little for Sam. Because of him, she knew that there were things out there that were clearly not-human, and that had helped her recover herself somewhat. Her powers had made her wonder what she was, now she knew she was just a little more special that the rest of humanity. The herd. He called us the Herd, and said others did so as well. Sam wanted to know what was important about tomorrow night, what was it that the vampire wanted his full power for? It was an almost off hand mention from the man, but given how he seemed to treat Brad as little more than a dog, Sam suspected that it was important. She'd learned to trust her hunches a long time ago. She watched a little longer, forcing herself to do so despite feeling uncomfortable. The woman, Bonita, apparently cued into a minor gesture from the older man, and literally kicked Brad away like a mongrel dog before taking her place at the block wound. Finally the man shoved her away as well. "Enough, you have both had your fill, for now. Perhaps tomorrow, after we have completed the task." Brad nodded, licking his lips, anticipation evenident on his face, "Yes master. You'll see, the business building is full of computers and-" He was cut of by an almost casual backhand from the woman, "He knows all of this!" "Enough Bonita, he was only trying to please." Sam let go of the vision, her senses returning to her own eyes and ears. She couldn't call the police about a crime that hadn't happened without proof, and her proof would get her laughed at. I guess I'm working tomorrow night. Sam started the car and headed home. Occult [jameson] 8:45 am: and good, you are here I need to make a roll [jameson] 8:45 am: [Asarasa] 8:45 am: Okie [jameson] 8:45 am: Int 2 + Occult 2 jameson *rolls* 4d10: 9+6+6+1: 22 [jameson] 8:45 am: 1 sux [Asarasa] 8:46 am: Correct [jameson] 8:46 am: enough to identify mr kreepy as a vamp
  12. Willpower Tracker: Date • tally 9/1 • 4 of 6 9/4 • 5 of 6 9/6 • 4 of 6 9/11 • 5 of 6 9/18 • 6 of 6 10/6 • 5 of 5 *I'll scrub out the prior month's changes at the start of each month.
  13. She waited, that was first, and hardest in a way, until Brad came out of the grocery store. It was getting on toward dark and she called home, let the nanny know she'd be late, and talking to Timmy for a few minutes. It was literally the least she could do as a mother. Brad finally came out and looked as if nothing at all had happened earlier; if he made a point to look for her she didn't see it. He trundled out of the parking lot, bags danging from his hands as he walked home, with Sam following behind him as easy as you please. She barely had to try, which would have worried her except he went straight back to the house she'd seen him come out of, and after parking the car went in with his groceries. She shook her head, it was nearing full dark as he went inside, and Brad appeared to have forgotten everything that happened in the store. Sam wasn't sure how long she should wait, she could scry into the house, watch what happened but only for so long, and only to see what was happening currently. Better now than never, Sam thought as she prepared herself and started to concentrate on his image. It would be easier having met him, and knowing exactly where he was would also help. A sympathetic link, a personalized business car like she used most often, would have helped more, but this shouldn't be difficult, it was less than a hundred yards, and she could all but see the location. She calmed herself, breathing slowly, her eyes closed. In through her nose, out through her mouth, she did her best to get comfortable in the car, but there was little to do about that. She felt only marginally less silly than when she did this at home, in the nude sitting lotus position on her yoga mat with her bedroom door locked. Most of her psychic gifts made her feel somewhat silly as she did them, but they got results that she could use, and a little silliness, waving lockets around, meditating naked, weird glimpses of "auras", was worth the end result. In her mind the blackness gave way to a face, Brad's face. Details around it began to come into the light, come into focus. A woman. Another man. Sam was with them, in the same room, floating unseen, onheard, unobserved, like the proverbial fly on the wall ... Clairvoyance Spending 1 WP (4/6) Wits 3 + Composure 3 jameson] 8:51 pm: rolling for clairvoyance jameson *rolls* 6d10: 7+10+9+10+9+10: 55 jameson *rolls* 3d10: 9+2+10: 21 [Carver] 8:52 pm: Dyam! jameson *rolls* 1d10: 6: 6 [jameson] 8:52 pm: booooo YA!!!!! [jameson] 8:52 pm: 7 sux on 6 duce [jameson] 8:52 pm: *dice [Carver] 8:52 pm: you should roll drunk more often. [jameson] 8:52 pm: thaz good by any yard stick
  14. It doesn't matter which of the 3 HTML options you select. The problem is due in part to the fact that the editor seems content to strip out the formatting for code, spoilers, quotes, and the like. I even tried using the UBB option and it was still 7 kinds of f%$@ed up.
  15. People were starting to stare. Sam noted with dismay that by the way they looked at her, she was coming off as the person who needed help here; mental help. "Fine. Fine. It's your life, throw it away if you want," she said, unable to hide the disgusted frustration in her voice." She hurriedly moved away, down the aisle, her basket forgotten, abandoned. At the end of the aisle she hesitated and turned to look over her shoulder at Brad. She gasped. For just a second she thought she saw a nimbus of light around his body. It wasn't the first time that Sam had caught a glimpse of the phenomenon. She'd put a little time into some research online, half serious internet searches on auras that confirmed, in her mind anyways, that her psychic sensitivity was starting to develop toward something new. Despite the momentary glimpse, there and gone like a flash of light being cast out from behind the troubled young man, Sam felt that there was something wrong. It had seemed frayed, and shot through with black veins that almost seemed to be feeding on him. Whatever he was into it wasn't a good thing, that much had already been obvious, but now Sam worried that something more was at work on Brad. Sam flinched as somebody nearby called her a nutcase, bringing her out of her thoughts. She hurried out of the store and to her car where despite the sun-baked heat of it she shivered for the memory of the experience. She pulled out her rumpled and wrinkled print of the photograph that August had given her. Brad, standing between two friends, smiling, a drink in his hand; a healthy young man who's life was ahead of him and probably seemed as limitless as life had once seemed to Sam. The detective could leave the case here. She could call August, tell her where to find Brad, collect her fees, and put this behind her. Sam could do that, technically, but in truth she couldn't, she needed to know that doing so wouldn't cause August to fall to the same trap that she believed held Brad. "Damnit." Sam had options, she just needed to decide how far she wanted to take this. Beyond this she wasn't going to charge the poor girl, her bill was going to be pretty bad as it was, even charging at reduced rates, but at this point Sam was going beyond what the client had asked for, and while August might want her to continue she'd have to risk telling the girl where to find Brad, and she wasn't sure how that would turn out. Sam took a breathe and tried to relax. Confronting Brad again wasn't going to help, even if she brought August along as emotional artillery, she wasn't convinced that Brad wasn't so strung up on whatever it was he was taking, or being given, that the girl's presence would help. Sam sighed, she knew what she needed to do.
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