shotyoudeadbang (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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capeandcowllogs2011-09-16 03:16 pm
shotyoudeadbang) wrote in capeandcowllogs2011-09-16 03:16 pm
Nefarious Scheming
WHO: Deadshot, Catman and Ghost
WHERE: Some lame-ass warehousey hideout
WHEN: Nowabouts
WARNINGS: None yet. Probably cuss words.
SUMMARY: Mercenaries got a job to blow somethin' up in Jersey. This is where they plan it. And probably wind up bullshitting about other stuff.
FORMAT: Para to start, then whatever works
For a seedy hideout place where a mercenary assassin, an asylum escapee and an industrial saboteur are getting together to plot a bombing, it's remarkably homey. There's a kitchen where omelettes are made. A big room with some chairs and a big table. Windows made out of that thick, opaque glass, oddly illuminating the dingy confines of
Okay, perhaps it's not homey. But there's still that kitchen! There's even food!
Right now, the table is covered with all sorts of hardware and weaponry, including the raw materials for far too much up-blowing potential to mean they're up to any good. They have a chemical plant named Wilshire in Newark to wipe out in a couple of days. Time to go over the plan. There are even hard-copy blueprints here to work with. Sometimes, Floyd is too old-school for his own good.
"All right. If the boss' goon squad does what it's supposed to, we'll have a ten minute window to scatter and get these bombs placed here, here, here and here. The plant will explode inward, and should pancake down hard enough to trap whatever nasty-ass chemicals they've got in here so it doesn't turn Jersey into a mutant farm. That about right, Ghost?"
WHERE: Some lame-ass warehousey hideout
WHEN: Nowabouts
WARNINGS: None yet. Probably cuss words.
SUMMARY: Mercenaries got a job to blow somethin' up in Jersey. This is where they plan it. And probably wind up bullshitting about other stuff.
FORMAT: Para to start, then whatever works
For a seedy hideout place where a mercenary assassin, an asylum escapee and an industrial saboteur are getting together to plot a bombing, it's remarkably homey. There's a kitchen where omelettes are made. A big room with some chairs and a big table. Windows made out of that thick, opaque glass, oddly illuminating the dingy confines of
Okay, perhaps it's not homey. But there's still that kitchen! There's even food!
Right now, the table is covered with all sorts of hardware and weaponry, including the raw materials for far too much up-blowing potential to mean they're up to any good. They have a chemical plant named Wilshire in Newark to wipe out in a couple of days. Time to go over the plan. There are even hard-copy blueprints here to work with. Sometimes, Floyd is too old-school for his own good.
"All right. If the boss' goon squad does what it's supposed to, we'll have a ten minute window to scatter and get these bombs placed here, here, here and here. The plant will explode inward, and should pancake down hard enough to trap whatever nasty-ass chemicals they've got in here so it doesn't turn Jersey into a mutant farm. That about right, Ghost?"