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Posts posted by Mel Grimson

  1. Mel cracked a grin looking over the item, and hearing Tarik and Anne get caught up in the bidding war. "Careful now, you don't want to get too much attention...." Then he thought otherwise of that statement. "Or rather, take all the attention. That way Elaine and I can go all unnoticed, when it actually gets to be time to lift the skull, if it's the real McCoy. Since the Professor said, we're likely to be outbid. That and any other sneaky spying on those parties that want the skull."

  2. Mel hadn't said anything during the brief upsurge of commentary between the two women. For obvious reasons. Though the whole issue seemed rather superfluous to him, and he did have to wonder what Anne was talking about. After all, Judi wasn't exactly going out with them on the actual missions, and aside from anything else, this was an important group, and everyone had their part to play, chosen specifically for them.

    Even the secretaries. Mel only smiled a tad during the sequence, when the Professor had showed a bit of rather strong conviction on the subject. Atta boy, Professor, I knew you could do it.

    He got off his desk-seat, snatched up a cup and a sandwich and sat back on his desk-seat, all ears for the next briefing.

  3. "I was wondering that, too." Mel Grimson's voice - gruff to some degree no matter what - made Arthur mentally jerk back in surprise again. Much because from the proximity of those spoken words, the older American was right behind him. Again, like Elaine, Mel always could surprise Arthur Eggleston despite the room's layout. At least with the red-head it made some kind of blithering sense, given Grimson's experiences and talents.

    "Don't tell me you were here as well, Mel." Arthur sighed, taking a sip of the Turkish coffee.

    Mel walked over to a different desk nearby and sat down on it. His clothing was arguably more working-class, tweed flat cap, long trousers, and a light double-breasted jacket - but again similar to Elaine Parker, Arthur didn't doubt the ex-soldier was armed with his easily concealed revolver and chain.

    "Nah, followed you right down here, Arthur." Mel grinned, before his gaze challenged Elaine humorously. "You're hoping it's Crete again, aren't you, missy?" The EAD team had come there to investigate reports of advanced and esoteric technology hidden in the detritus of the ancient Minoan civilization. So had a Nazi unit with local help. To top things off, well, the minotaurs in the Labyrinth of the palace hadn't been pleased at any intrusion.

    But Elaine had deciphered the Linear Script enough to use the mysterious artifacts in the royal wing, Mel and Anne outfought the Abwehr grunts, and Tarik had bamboozled a surprising number of opponents into occupying the Minotaurs. A definite success, all in all.

  4. Mel jerked his Penetrator into the full pace forward, and entered extreme range of Tiegart. He bit his lip, wondering if he should open fire now. Worth a try. The ER Large Lasers opened up on Recon Lance's commander. The first shot tore up earth and missed, but Mel seamlessly adjusted, and his next shot hit a leg.

    [Jeremy] 11:21 am: what woud be the range and total mods?

    [Long6] 11:22 am: you'd have to run, so base gunnery +2+4(long range)

    [Jeremy] 11:29 am: ok - Running and using 2 ER Large Lasers on Tiegart... target number 8

    Jeremy *rolls* 2d6: 3+3: 6

    Jeremy *rolls* 2d6: 6+3: 9

    [Long6] 11:31 am: 1 hits left leg

    [Jeremy] 11:31 am: Damage 8

    Heat Level: 2

  5. Mel nodded at Nathan's words as he heard them. The bet and Recon's actions were not exactly winnable terms but yeah, getting the job done would be good. He sent the Penetrator lurching forward in motion to keep pace... the ranges would be too far at the moment to open fire and expect a hit.

    Mel will walk or run as appropriate to keep close, depending on how fast Nathan is going.
  6. Mel followed the rest of Battle Lance, not having spoken up or made a joke for once. To be honest, he was enjoying Rogue's little show just fine. Honestly, the whole idea of the batchall was a bit... well, Hyena couldn't define it, but it nagged in an uncomfortable way.

    Aside from the fact that it was a Clan thing, and on reflex he detested the Clans ever since his family was killed in the flotilla invasion, it seemed something distant from reality, more suited towards a war game and the bets they were making in a friendly way than the wide-scale use during the Invasion.

    After all, the whole concept of trying to use as little men as possible, limiting yourselves, single combat... this was not a some noble sport or place for honor. Somethings weren't done on the battlefield, but still... War was war in the end.

    And the Clans complain about losing at Tukkayid?

    The fact that Captain Aldridge had willingly engaged in a batchall was too complicating to think about right now, so Mel turned his focus towards as Justice said, winning this challenge.

  7. The questions did not destroy Mel's aura of good humor, but it seemed at that instant damaged and much more forced by the mention of the Clans... "I'd say all-out attacks out of nowhere are rather strong hints. They're not good guests either."

    When Nathan looked at him, Mel giggled, yet chillingly mirthlessly. "They don't knock on the front door, they smash it down. I know. The Periphery was my home, all of it, being in a traveling merchant flotilla. And the Clans wrecked it."

    It was ambiguous whether he meant the Periphery, the flotilla or both. It was all the same to Mel really. He started pouring himself a much bigger portion of the Oberon's Finest.

  8. Mel's smile disappeared at Nathan's words for a moment, but it returned with alacrity. To be quite honest, at times his attitude and behavior could rub someone the wrong way, and it happened once in a while, of course. Fortunately, Mel knew how to deal with those times.

    "No fair! I'm from the Periphery, I'm the one who gets unfounded prejudice!" Yet no sooner had the mock hurt exclamation exited his mouth that Mel reached out and shook Nathan's hand. "Seriously though, I'm sorry about that Nathan. You're just going to have to teach me about life in the DC. In all the honorable, glorious detail. Right now."

  9. Mel was having similar thoughts to Jules in this situation, and an idea creeped into his head. Loosen up the Draconic stick in the mud, and make him more flexible... Like a reed, if one wanted a poetic analogy to appeal to Lieutenant Nathan Thorne.

    "We can talk about the old commander any time." A sly smile broke out on his face. "Let's talk about you... it must have been good being DCMS when you got home for R&R. The finest sushi, drinks - and willing geisha throwing themselves at you. Mustn't forget the geisha, right?"

  10. Mel grinned as he saw Jules under the tree, following Nathan's gaze. He gave his lancemate a brisk, bottle-gripped wave and then kneeling down next to Lieutenant Nathan, he poured another shot of Oberon's before explaining. "Well, about a year. Jules too, it was basically that big re-recruitment time."

    At Nathan's confused look, Mel clarified casually. "The Avengers took serious losses about a year ago, much of Captain Aldridge's original ComGuards vets went down to the Clans. I was in turnover between units, and went to the Avengers for a job. It didn't take long for Aldridge to hire me. A good sense of humor will get you places. That and talent-slash-experience. But mostly humor."

    The shot of Oberon's emptied into Mel's gullet, and he swigged it down with a mix of sour face and glee. "Nothing like schadenfreude with a drink, eh?"

  11. Mel looked at his new lance commander, even as he swigged down the liquid in his glass. Nathaniel was an awfully odd guy, but such seemed to be the case with a lot of traditional Draconis types. He wouldn't even accept Mel calling him 'Nate'. Well, when push came to show, if he could do his job on the battlefield, no worries.

    After all, Mel could do his battlefield job just fine, contrary to appearances.

    "A wise decision, Lieutenant Nathan." Mel commented with a grin. "I'm just drinking a little now, this isn't the time to really get drunk yet... that's for the evenings after we've survived a mission. Also, the booze in this bottle has been preserved for several years, I had to uncork it sometime, right?"

  12. Mel was looking through his room, giving it a little polish-up, though with little apparent boost in quality of appearance. Honestly, his room regularly looked at least a little bit untidy, but eventually he would at times, observe the status of his domicile on the DropShip had reached proportions even he had to correct.

    This of course, was one of those times. Bed made, with new sheets and blanket, most things cleared up. And then Mel saw in his cooler, an unopened bottle of Oberon's Finest. Which was an oxymoron kind of liquor, but he remembered this bottle. After all, since the Clans, no more Oberon Confederation.

    Somehow, it had been on the shuttle on which Mel and a tiny clump of the crew had fled the lost flotilla... it had been Grimson's sole remaining memento for his past and family, at any rate. The mercenary frowned, as much with the fact it was not drank as with the memories...

    Finally, he decided... the bottle would still be around even if the drink inside wasn't, right?

    A short time later, Nathaniel heard Mel's voice, joyously singing, what Mel knew to be an old traditional pirate song, taken from Terra. "Yarr, harr, fibity, being a pirate is alright with me, do what you want, cause a pirate is free, you are a pirate!"

    The mercenary was swinging a bottle of drink - which did look mostly full, and held a glass in the other hand partly filled with liquor. When one had enough time to get used to Mel, the difference between him being drunk or silly was clear. Right now, just silly.

  13. photo-1212.jpg?_r=1341250877?_r=6938eb8a7dcb900cab4321d2b735fa5d

    Personal Information:

    Identity: Mel Grimson

    Handle: Hyena

    Nicknames: None

    Occupation: Mech Warrior

    Marital Status: Single

    Known Relatives: none living

    Allegiance(s): Aldridge’s Avengers

    Physical Traits:

    Weight: 156 lbs

    Height: 5’9”

    Apparent age: mid 20's

    Age: 25

    Gender: Male

    Eye Color: Brown

    Hair Color: Brown

    Handedness: Right

    Appearance: Mel has brown hair, and eyes with fair skin, a result of shipboard life regularly. Casually trimmed and dressed, he seems to look like he takes everything easy - a facade that those with experience know as such.

    Skills and Personality

    Abilities/Special Skills: Mel has had years of experience as a MechWarrior, moreover, he is a capable pilot and an expert shot with BattleMechs. The upbringing in nomadic mercantile matters has given Mel some expertise in business matters, and he has a broad range of knowledge specializing on the Periphery.

    Personality: Mel is flexible, in a cosmopolitan way, generally good-natured, often having a joke for any situation, and a goofy laugh that sticks in people's mind, albeit in an genial way. Surprisingly, even in battle, even against the Clans, this attitude holds - but observers can notice his laugh is more... menacing.


    Mel Grimson was born into a merchant family that took a long-term route throughout the Periphery, so he was equally familiar with most of it, despite being Oberon born. He proved vehicle talented, plus cosmopolitan and good-humored and was going to likely become a pilot for the family business. Then the Clans attacked.

    The Grimson flotilla was one of the early targets in the Periphery, assaulted by a WarShip and boarded, Mel lost his family and friends in the fighting, his last memory of them being his older sister Madia ordering him to escape with the last of the ratings. The scrappy band floated out with the last shuttle in the confusion.

    Mel ended up joining a conglomerate mercenary unit, and with short-handed amounts of pilots, first became a BattleMech pilot in control of their last spare machines. One of the rare heavy hitters when absolutely necessary, he demonstrated impressive ability, and when the Clans pulled back - he knew where to seek employment and his roving lifestyle.

    Eventually Mel learned about Aldridge's Avengers, and applied during their re-recruiting phase, demonstrating his fitness to be part of the unit and has belonged to the Avengers for years since.

  14. Description

    Name: Mel Grimson

    Age: 20

    Gender: Male

    Race: White

    Nationality: American/Japanese

    Hair: Brown

    Eyes: Blue

    Height: 6'0

    Weight: 162 lb.

    Style: Savate De Rue


    Mel Grimson was born in Chicago of '92, in some of the rougher parts of town even as gentrification started to work its way through the city. His parents Matthew and Melicia were busy working-class parents, and so Mel was out of the house often, scrapping with other kids or hanging out in the immigrant neighborhood. He didn't have much interest in school, though he wasn't stupid.

    He ended up dropping out to the disappointment of his parents in high school and took construction working up for a time - as well as being a handyman in the mixed immigrant neighborhood until Monsieur Gassion passed him on a special offer.

    Mr. Gassion, referred to by Mel as Monsieur Gassion - was Mel's mentor since he was 10. An old Frenchman from Marseilles and expert in authentic Savate De Rue, Mel had made friends with him and Gassion had taught him the fighting style. In truth, it was the thrill of the simpler pleasures, inspired by the training that had convinced Mel to quit school once he'd gotten the hang of Savate - and Gassion made him an offer.

    A Tokyo martial artist and friend of Gassion named Mr. Ohata had passed on word of the martial arts subculture in the suburbs, and with Gassion and Ohata's help, Mel gleefully moved to Tokyo and took up a new construction working job - paying rent to Ohata-san to get room and board.

    After all, he had enough money, and more happiness than could be bought.

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