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The Subfursives (1980s Sci-Fi Non-Canon)

For non-canon Feila and non-Feila role-playing, the Twilight Zone offers a venue to experience all time and all settings. If you'd like to role-play in a time period that has no canon counterpart, or if you'd like to role-play on a world that is not Feila, then this is the place. All races are allowed, including humans.
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Re: The Subfursives (1980s Sci-Fi Non-Canon)

Post by Larcen » Wed Jul 12, 2017 10:30 pm

Upon seeing Caldin waltz back out in semi-manly clothing, Spike shrugged, impressed. "That'll work. Especially with what I'm pretty sure my husband is thinking," she speculated, giving him a sideways glance.

Turnpike pressed the tip of his muzzle against a fist and pondered. "I like what you'nz are suggesting, honestly. Keep moving and they won't know where to look so easy. 'Course they didn't make her car, so that's in our favor, but it's a matter of time before someone in the parking lot mentions seeing you." Spike coughed and rubbed the back of her neck at that statement, remembering the incident with the SUV.

Her husband raised an eyebrow, but continued plotting. "Yeah. Let's go to your house, Mal. We'll take my car; I'm drivin'." He gave half a grin to Caldin--only half; Spike wasn't the jealous type, but she'd murder him if he looked at the vixen wrong. "And I'll explain how they work on the way. Let's move."

After changing into a very last-decade outfit featuring a grey pinstripe suit, pink shirt, gold chain and matching topaz pinky ring, Turnpike led the way back to the garage, where his black-and-midnight-purple 1970 Rebel Machine sat parked, its body raked forward, ever ready for a fight. "Babe, you're gonna have to take the back seat with Mal. Caldin's legs are a little too long for the back." Spike gruffed, not liking how that sounded.

"'Kay, I'll just slip in behind you, so I can like, throttle you if you take your paws off the gearshift," she growled playfully. Turnpike rolled his eyes, then pushed the seat forward so she could get in. "Hop in, guys. Mal, tell me where you live." He fired the Rebel up and her souped-up V8 rumbled to life, growling like a monster of Caldin's time. It ran like one too, taking off down the winding country roads, attacking them with control that felt like reckless abandon.

"So, here's the incredulous part, milady," he began. "Now all of this is just metal cranks and wheels moving around, but they're powered by that black liquid I mentioned before, extracted from the very bowels of the earth and even the bottom of the sea, then refined by alchemical processes into a clear-colored fire in a bottle. They produce thousands of tiny explosions every minute, triggered by bolts of lightning shorter than the fur on your eyelids. These explosions turn the crank at...well, right now the little needle on the front there says the cranks are turning over two thousand revolutions every minute. It goes up to 8, as you can see there, but if we go any higher than 7 or so--that's seven thousand, the machine breaks." He felt little claws tugging at the fur on the back of his neck. No flirting! Well as if, woman; he'd been burnt out on foxy floozies long before he was engaged. No offense.

"Where we goin', Mal, by the way?" he asked, briefly changing the subject.
"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read." --Groucho Marx

You say 'fundamentalist' like it's a bad thing. X3

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Re: The Subfursives (1980s Sci-Fi Non-Canon)

Post by Asyriel » Fri Jul 14, 2017 8:09 pm

Malcom chuckled at Caldy's comment on his clothing. "Thank you." He said with a slight bow. He may not have agreed, but he wasn't about to scoff at a compliment. His expression was thoughtful for a few moments as Caldy returned in her new choice of clothing. It wasn't quite what he expected, but it definitely didn't look bad on her. "Hey now, that's quite the change for sure." He commented. "You look like a cute punk rocker." He said with a grin and a slight chuckle.

He nodded as Turnpike agreed that they should head for his place. "Alright. Sounds like a plan then." He said as he followed Turnpike out to the car. He glanced at Spike and raised an eyebrow a bit as it was suggested that Spike ride in back with him. He got in the car, and settled in behind Caldy's seat. It wasn't long before he was lost in thought, not really having any interest in the explanation of how the car worked.

Trunpike's question pulled him out of his contemplation, and he had to take a few moments to get his bearings. "Uh, let's see. You're going to want to take the next left, then it's probably about fifteen miles, driveway's on the right. You'll have to stop at the gate so I can put in the entry code though." He told Turnpike before he turned his attention to Caldy. "So, I've been thinking." He started. "I don't want to get your hopes up, but, I may know somebody that might be able to help you get home. Just keep in mind, it's a long shot. I don't even know if she's still alive at this point."

Eventually, Malcom's directions brought them to a piece of property a good distance out into the countryside that seemed to be mostly orchard. The property was surrounded by a tall heavy wrought iron fence that was closed off with a gate that opened from the outside with a pin code. Malcom debated attempting to put the code in himself, but decided against it since he was as far away as he could get from the number pad where he was sitting in the vehicle. He instead told the pin to Turnpike for the sake of expedience.

The gate opened onto a cobbled driveway that led further into the tree covered property and eventually to a historical chateau that looked like it had recently undergone a good bit of restoration.

"Well, here we are...home sweet home away from home." He announced as they reached the chateau.

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Re: The Subfursives (1980s Sci-Fi Non-Canon)

Post by Miko » Tue Jul 25, 2017 12:55 pm

(Hey! Kumiko is far from being a floozy! Beware :p)

"Call me rebellious, but I always wanted to throw away my expensive dresses for my everyday outfit!" she said in a big smile, reacting to Malcom calling her a punk rocker. She noticed however the electrical atmosphere between Spike and Turnpike when the mentioned taking his car to Malcolm's, as if those two had some history involving cheating or jealousy. So to avoid any drama, she took a kind voice and said in a sigh, "I wish he was there to watch over me the way ye do each other...". Would they think she was talking about her lover would be the best, but she was in fact thinking about her brother. Half a lie for the greater good, she thought. When it was time to go, she drank and eat what was left at once, used magic to turn the staff into a pendant the way her brother could turn his bec-de-corbin into a pendant too. With the ring and the pendant under her sweater, there was no sign or her past wealth to be seen. She grabbed a plastic bag to put her former clothes inside, and got in the car next to Turnpike.

His car looked a little more aggressive than Spike's car, and it also sounded that way. From what she saw this day, there was a lot of different styles of car, some of them looking very fancy in the mall's parking lot, others more "family friendly". She listened to Turnpike with interest, trying to imagine the cranks turning at such a speed. No Feilan machinery she could remember could match such a technology. "If ye are able to power a car with controlled explosions, I guess ye can also create and control huge explosions too. This is amazing but... it is also scary. And to say that ye can mine under the sea... Do not tell me ye find a way to fly?!" She laughed out loud, but the way the three others looked at her, surely thinking about planes, made her stop right away. "I... I will need a History book about technology before I can engage any conversation with a stranger!" she said, mocking herself lightly.

The scenery was weirdly resembling past-Domus. Of course cities were bigger, crops and farms mechanized as well as more numerous, but she could still make it match with her memories. Getting to Malcom's chateau, she knew exactly which one it was, and to whom it belonged. "I can tell thee who built your house, Malcom. And also who owned it well before thee... for it was one of the ruling families of the Church who ordered its construction. The location, the orchard, the orientation of the building... sure it is modernized, but I still recognize some of its elements. Maybe I can even find some tributes to Celeste in the walls or in the basement!" She smiled at him. She was in awe at the gate controlled by a secret password, and was looking everywhere to compare with her memories. She turned on her seat to face Malcom and gave him a sad smile. "I thank thee for thy concern, it means a lot, sincerely. I know since I am here that I might not see my cherished land again, so do not worry, I will not bury myself into illusions. I still hope I will get back there though. I cannot help it. Let us talk about it when will get to you house, alright?"

When Turnpike parked the car, she opened the door and put a foot on the ground only to feel dizzy again. This time it was not only about motion sickness, but also because she was getting really tired. She spent almost two days without a rest after all. She shook herself and stood up, willing to stay strong. "Spiky? Turnpike? Have you already lived or even spent a night in a chateau too?" she asked, curious about whether it became a common thing, while Malcom guided them through his property.

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Re: The Subfursives (1980s Sci-Fi Non-Canon)

Post by Larcen » Thu Jul 27, 2017 2:02 pm

(Jaded coyote is jaded :P He's got a heckuva past as a womanizer, but as the Jerry Reed song goes, so went his relationship with Spike: Ugly Woman. And hyena gotta be dominating and jealous X3)

"Yeah, uh...heh. You might get to see some of our more powerful abilities," Turnpike answered with a tinge of the nerves in his voice. He had something brewing in mind that might require heavy ordinance. Something had to be done, after all, but how far would it need to go? His silence concerned Spike too, but she said nothing, for once.

At any rate, they were further dumbstruck when Malcom's chateau rolled into view. The coyote adjusted his rear-view mirror to give his feline passenger a coyote soul-stare. Minor species power, that. His kind possessed the ability to make you feel like their eyes were looking directly at the immortal essence of your very being. Not magical at all, just good acting. "You and I are having a long talk when we get inside, aren't we?" It wasn't a question. He suspected a number of answers for the dissonance between the metalhead T-shirt and the grand edifice before them.

Innocent as a hyena can be, Spike was just awed by the architecture, though her ear tugged her attention to Caldin. Wow, she knew this place from back then, huh? Like, woooow! She snapped out of marveling. "Huh? Oh. Noooo... I haven't. I mean we stayed at a coupla really fancy hotels on our honeymoon, but like, that's all," she blushed.

"My woman came out of a trailer park," Turnpike quipped playfully, earning himself a pinch on the ear for his efforts, but then a kiss on it to make it all better.

"You're bad!"
"I know, and it's why you keep me around. Anyway, Malcom, let's get the womenfolk inside and have us that talk, huh? Lead on," Turnpike directed, opening his own door and holding the seat for his wife to disembark. He wanted to see where this went, and if he might have use for whatever Malcom had. Networking and stuff, right?
"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read." --Groucho Marx

You say 'fundamentalist' like it's a bad thing. X3

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Re: The Subfursives (1980s Sci-Fi Non-Canon)

Post by Asyriel » Thu Jul 27, 2017 6:31 pm

Malcom chuckled as Caldy mentioned knowing who had built the chateau he currently called home. "That could actually be interesting to hear from the perspective of someone who was there." He replied cheerfully "Dunno about finding anything in the walls after the restoration, but the basement was left relatively untouched." He continued. The smile she gave him as she assured him that that she was not holding too tightly to the idea of going home was heart wrenching. "Well if there's anyone I've meet who might have a chance at it, it's her." He replied, and left it at that for the time being.

Malcom caught Turnpike adjusting the rearview as they pulled up to the chateau, and gave a manic grin in response to the soul piercing gaze he got. "Oh I'm sure there will be lots to discuss." He replied with a laugh.

He quickly tumbled out of the vehicle behind Caldy as it looked like the might be a bit unsteady on her feet again, but the moment seemed to pass, and he turned to the group. "Well, let's head on in." He said as he unlocked the large wooden door, and pulled it open. The chateau had been beautifully restored, very close to it's original state at least in appearance. It had of course been modernized, but it still held a stately aged feel that came with historical buildings. The furnishings were sparse, but there were a few things here and there. Many of the furnishings were designed to at least look like period pieces, and there were even a few that dated back almost as far as the building itself.

Malcom spoke as he led everyone through some of the chambers to the areas he used more frequently. "Where to start." He mused for a moment. "I always wanted to live in an old Edwinish castle." He paused for a moment. "Not much chance of that happening since the outbreak so I figured a Domish chateau was the next best thing. I got this place for a relative steal you know. Previous owners started a fire to try to get an insurance settlement they got caught though. Nobody wanted to pay to repair the damage the fire had done, so it had been on the market for a while. I came in at just the right time, and with the right offer, and snatched it up. Had to do a bit of hunting to find someone to restore it, and not muck it up. The restoration was actually completed only a couple months ago, kinda why there isn't much in the way of furnishing or decoration yet." He rambled a bit as they eventually made it into the room he'd adopted as his living room. All the furnishings were quite modern in this room, and comfortable to boot, even had a big screen and surround sound. "Now, I'm guessing you're wondering how someone like myself can afford a place like this. Make yourselves at home, take a load off." he continued. "I started of in Edwin Spec OPS, met some people, got out after a few years. While I was in, I learned I have a talent for gambling." He grinned. "So, when I got out, I figured I'd capitalize on it. Won a few poker tournaments, then started cleaning up at casinos. Played around a bit on the stock market, and made a bundle. Figured since I can't go back to Edwin, I may as well get comfortable here." He finished, spreading his hands out wide.

He smiled at his guests. "So, any questions? Anyone want food, drink?"

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Re: The Subfursives (1980s Sci-Fi Non-Canon)

Post by Miko » Fri Jul 28, 2017 2:44 pm

"Oh... for a second I really thought everybody was living in a chateau !" She laughed and conjured her staff back to help her standing still. Kumiko walked a few steps behind the three others, feeling heavy because of her physical tiredness as well as her mental weariness. Getting to a place that looked closely like back then brought nostalgia to the surface. She also somehow felt the urge to nestle against someone's chest to let her feelings go. But as she has always been told to do, she hid it deep inside her heart and kept walking on. Listening to Malcom's explanations, anecdote about the previous owners made her chuckle. In fact, the Carmin family, who ordered the construction of the chateau, was well-versed in fire magic. Maybe they hexed the castle so that any later owner would see it set on fire somehow? Although that was not funny as Malcom was the current one, this could be highly possible. If it was the case, she could help him fight the curse... unless she ought to to be the one to set on fire this time?

She woke up from her thoughts when Malcom invited them to ease themselves. She sat heavily on an armchair which softness was a relief for her back and legs. "So... thou wonest enough money by playing games to buy a chateau and to restore it? Is that legal here? Well... ye told me the government cannot pay for its army so.. it cannot control gambling and black market, can they?" She was interested in this for one thing only: if they were to need materials for a ritual or a machine of some sort, they could use the black market to keep it quiet. The softness of the armchair cut her thoughts short, and her mind started floating away. "May I ask thee for a cup of coffee, or any drink you invented that gives energy back? Thou would be lovely."

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Re: The Subfursives (1980s Sci-Fi Non-Canon)

Post by Larcen » Sat Jul 29, 2017 2:15 pm

Turnpike was too distracted with his own mental gears turning and trying to figure Malcom out, but Spike surely noticed Caldin's little feat of transformation, with the stick and all, and as they approached the castle, her path steadily drifted away from the vixen. A superstitious type, NOPE was the word of the day in her head.

As they entered and got settled, Turnpike took a cozy-looking chair and sat on the edge of it, listening intently to Malcom's story. His ears pricked up when he heard Edwinish Special Operations. Good skill set to have, for sure. However, when Malcom mentioned casinos and stock markets, all Turnpike heard was ka-ching! Yep, if kitty boy agreed to it, he would make a fine addition to Turrnpike's little project.

"Ah-HA! I knew you had something up your sleeve," he exclaimed, tail wagging in excitement, then sat back and pressed the tips of his claws together.

Spike interjected briefly at the mention of food. "Um, yeah, I could have something, I guess..." Which diverted her husband's attention for a brief moment. Was she ok? Usually one never offered a hyena food, unless they wanted their fridge emptied. She seemed to have lost part of her appetite. Never mind, this was too juicy to pass up, but first, the other lady (surely the word was never more appropriate) had a question.

"Well, Caldy, they're trying to control them, you can count on that. Most gambling halls employ their own security guards...for now. You can bet your sweet bippy that they control the odds, though. Anyway, Mal, I'll level with you. I run an...import/export business. Dealing chiefly Edwinish goods. Don't believe the news; the virus that ate Edwin is dead. Burned up all its fuel supply and died out after there were no more fresh bodies to infect, or the ones that didn't catch it...didn't catch it. So what I did, was round up some refugees, a few military types like yourself, mostly Navy. I send them to Edwin to pick up whatever my contacts want. Cars, collectibles, swords, equipment, anything except drugs or arms. Well ok, small arms too, but no automatics or heavy ordinance. The boys even picked up a nuclear submarine, if you can believe it! So we stock up the sub with whatever the buyers want, vacuum seal the bays to make triple sure no nasty bugs piggyback onto it and kill the rest of Feila, and then pilot out juuuuust to the edge of international waters. Then a few former members of the Edwinish Yachting Club take and divide up the booty, to deliver to me at certain GPS coordinates. I then make sure it all goes to the right stores. Hey, had to do something after my assets were quarantined, right? Now of course, this is all technically illegal, but nobody's getting hurt, and you can see for yourself, nobody's turned to an oozing red mush. I just get people what they want. It's how I got my wife's and my cars here. To cover my tracks, all profits go to charities, specifically for the families of stranded Edwinish tourists, and all under anonymous aliases. I've also got feelers out everywhere, from the shipping authorities to the Fraternal Order of Former Police Officers. Here's where I'm doing some thinkin'. We need to get rid of SoluNet." He cracked his knuckles, one fist at a time as he let it sink in among vixen and serval. Spike opened her mouth in shock, but he held up a paw for silence. Let them share what they think first.
"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read." --Groucho Marx

You say 'fundamentalist' like it's a bad thing. X3

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Re: The Subfursives (1980s Sci-Fi Non-Canon)

Post by Asyriel » Sat Jul 29, 2017 5:36 pm

Malcom chuckled as Caldy asked about the legalities of gambling. "There are plenty of places that it's perfectly legal, there was even a city in Edwin that was pretty much built on gambling, and odds have a funny way of tipping in my favor at times." He added to Turnpike's comment. "As far as black markets go, well, let's just say that there will always be black markets." He started to leave the room when food and drinks were requested, but what Turnpike had to say stopped him.

He laughed. "Never said I didn't have anything up my sleeve." He replied to the coyote with a wide grin. 'Level with you' seemed to be the key phrase as it earned the Coyote a much more intense level of attention than he had received before. Malcom was most definitely paying close attention to what Turnpike had to say. "Sounds like quite the lucrative business venture." Malcom commented thoughtfully as he wondered just where Turpike thought he would fit into the whole picture. "What about the furs in Edwin that didn't catch the virus?" He asked, another part of his mind lighting up with a little hope for the one he thought may be able to help Caldy. He laughed again when Turnpike suggested getting rid of SoluNet. "Let me go grab some stuff from the kitchen before we get into that." He replied before sauntering off toward another part of the house.

He returned a few minutes later, pushing a cart that was piled with stuff for making sandwiches, silverware, plates, cups, and a couple bottles of soda and water. "Didn't know what everybody liked so I figured, make your own sandwiches should work. Have fun." He commented before he walked over to Caldy. "Here you go." He said as he handed her a tall blue and silver can. "That'll give you some energy." He said with a wide grin. "If you believe the hype that is." The can had a drawing of a red bull on it. "Probably best not to drink it all at once though." He warned. "Also, take a look at this." He said as he handed her a small glass bead. "That someone I was telling you about earlier, might be able to help get you home. She gave that to me. Told me that if I ever needed to get in touch with her, just break it. I have no idea how breaking the thing is supposed to do anything, but maybe you do." He said. The glass bead was subtly enchanted, something that would alert the person who created it if it was broken.

Malcom returned his attention to Turnpike as he sat himself down in a chair near the Coyote. "Now, I don't disagree that SoluNet is bad news, but just how are you thinking about accomplishing the task of getting rid of them?" He asked in all seriousness.

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Re: The Subfursives (1980s Sci-Fi Non-Canon)

Post by Larcen » Fri Sep 15, 2017 9:33 pm

Turnpike chuckled a little to himself at the mention of there always being black markets, since he was a key player in them.

It was Spike, actually, who almost spoke up to answer Malcom's question about they who had not gotten the virus. However, that thought was blindsided by the promise of food, which had ignited her species' primary weakness in these modern, less brutal times - gluttony. With a stomach that could hold thirty pounds of meat or more (and in a world of factory farming, food addi[c]tives, advertising, and buffets, that capacity was stretched daily by those challenged in self control), telling a hyena to "have fun" where food was concerned threatened considerable damage to one's stores and the particular hyena's belt size. Spike descended upon the cart, loading up a sandwich that would have made that "purebred mongrel" Dagwood jealous. Turnpike rolled his eyes and shrugged at Malcom. You asked for it! his look said. His wife presented him with a more manageable triple-decker club, and he accepted with a kiss, trading her for a grape soda and keeping a root beer for himself. "You were gonna say, babe?"

"Huh? Oh like, yeah. Actually, I've got a friend who--WHOOP!" she called out in shock. Shortly after accepting the Red Bull, Caldin had presently begun to glow, then her edges shimmered and wobbled. Finally, in a burst of light, she disappeared, her scream fading out into nothing along with the rest of her.

Spike, already somewhat phobic about magic, was officially terrified. Her plate began to shake, and Turnpike snatched it and set it down. His fur stood on end too as he crouched, ears pinned back and tail tucked in fear. "Holy... I guess she... somebody recalled her?" he asked, incredulous. Spike, however, began to laugh. Problem was, it was the wrong kind of laugh. She laughed a shrieking, Joker-style laugh that shook her and made her turn to flee. She ran smack into Turnpike, who'd again intercepted and put his arms around her. "Eeaaasy, babe. Shhh... It's ok," he soothed, running his paws through her mane, even as she continued to cackle, softer now, with tears running down as she buried her face in his chest. "When her kind laughs like that, it's 'cuz she's scared out of her wits. Hysteria. We're ok, Mal. But it looks like someone way back when figured out how to take our vixen back home," he explained, pointing with his nose at the fizzing can on the floor.

Leading Spike to the couch, Turnpike sat down with his wife to recover from her hysterics. "She'll be ok in a minute. You alright, Mal?"
"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read." --Groucho Marx

You say 'fundamentalist' like it's a bad thing. X3

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Re: The Subfursives (1980s Sci-Fi Non-Canon)

Post by Asyriel » Sat Sep 16, 2017 1:41 am

Malcom watched with a mix of stunned horror and admiration as Spike fixed herself a sandwich that made him grateful he hadn't taken the hyena back to the kitchen. He slightly shook his head as he started to make a sandwich for himself from what was left. He turned and was about to ask Caldy if she wanted one, and what her take was on the glass bead when she started to glow.

His reaction was decidedly less extreme, though he did shudder at the scream that marked the vixen's sudden departure. He'd mentioned earlier that he'd seen some strange things from an agent he'd met while working spec ops so it was a little easier for him to accept. "I hope she was only recalled" he muttered quietly as he went to pick up the bead, and the energy drink that had been left behind. He set the drink on the cart, and put the bead in his pocket. He was glad that his remaining guests were more or less ok, and he nodded. "I hope she made it home alright."

He sighed as he decided to finish making his sandwich while they waited for Spike to calm down a bit. "Oh, I'm fine." He replied to Turnpike's question, "Seen some strange things in my days working spec ops so yeah." He punctuated the end of his statement with a shrug before taking a bite out of his sandwich. "I would like to hear about those survivors though...whenever you're ready" he prompted.

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Re: The Subfursives (1980s Sci-Fi Non-Canon)

Post by Larcen » Sat Sep 16, 2017 12:57 pm

Spike continued to shiver, quite and very shaken up by this display of teleportation or whatever. Her coyote knew exactly what to do, however. His one arm still wrapped around her broad shoulders, the other arm reached for her tower of sandwich and brought it to her. "Here, babe. Take a bite; settle your nerves." VERY few things could kill her appetite, so she sniffed back the tears--oy, Malcom had seen her cry--and took a big, luxuriant bite.

"Anyway, I'll talk while she's recovering," Turnpike said, letting go of her and leaning forward, paws clasped. "So the virus had a 99.9% infection rate. Now, antibacterial soap companies crow about that as if it's almighty, but in reality, for every thousand people exposed, one lives. Edwin had about three hundred million before it all went down, so that left about three hundred thousand spread out over the whole nation, not counting displaced natives. Of course some went hara-kiri when everyone else was snuffed out, some lost their marbles and went psycho, but there are sane, reasonable furs living there. Course, the governments of the world are still afraid to touch them, for obvious if unnecessary reasons. As fortune would have it--or heck, maybe the divine paw of the Almighty, who knows?--my baby's best friend was one of the survivors. Fruit bat, nice girl, kinda shy, ginormous cans. She contacted us by radio, and we try an' keep in touch. Seems she found one of my kind as well," he grinned.

"At any rate, I make it a point to send any supplies to the survivors that they might need as well, under strict oath of secrecy. They actually don't need much, since there's a whole country's worth of stuff to pick over. That's why I don't hafta feel bad about looting it. Plenty for everybody. They're trying to build a society there, mostly communal anarchist, since there's no need for money yet, and like I said, I'm charitable when they need my services. They help find stuff for me, I give 'em what they lack." There went them paws again, touching the tips of their claws together.

During his explanation, Spike nodded agreement through stuffed cheeks. The sandwich of doom had proven a pawful to keep together, but the best way to counteract panic was to do something that required intense focus. She finally gave her husband a nuzzle on the cheek, leaving a little mayo there for him to wipe off, and swallowed before adding, "Yeah he acts all like, devious, but he's a good guy, my boo. I make sure of it." Turnpike nodded, eyes rolled upward. Don't I know it.
"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read." --Groucho Marx

You say 'fundamentalist' like it's a bad thing. X3

Asyriel
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Re: The Subfursives (1980s Sci-Fi Non-Canon)

Post by Asyriel » Sat Sep 16, 2017 8:59 pm

Malcom had to admit that he was relieved when it seemed that Spike was starting to get her nerves under control. It had been a little unnerving to watch her freak out as she had.

Turnpike grabbed his attention as he started to talk about the survivors in Edwin. Malcom listened closely to the story, slowly eating his own sandwich as he did. He chuckled a little at Turnpike's description of Spike's friend. "Radio you say? Like an old fashioned HAM?" he asked with some curiosity. Most currently used radio systems were line of sight, and didn't have a lot of power, with cell towers and boosters everywhere they didn't need to be that powerful.

He nodded as Turnpike went on to explain his arrangement with the survivors of Edwin. "Seems like a pretty sweet deal. I wonder just how many are left at this point." He paused for a moment. "Course, it's been a couple years now, there could be new additions to the population." He mused mostly to himself. "That also means that the friend I was talking about before could still be kicking out there somewhere...not that we really need her help anymore." He commented with a slight frown and a glance at the spot where their unusual companion had been. "Either way, it's good to hear that at least some of them are making it work over there."

He nodded with a chuckle as Spike added her thoughts. "That's good to hear, but what I'm wondering now is where SoluNet factors into all this. Granted they're getting too big for their britches as it is, but you get where I'm coming from." He commented with a raised eyebrow.

Larcen
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Re: The Subfursives (1980s Sci-Fi Non-Canon)

Post by Larcen » Wed Sep 20, 2017 1:10 pm

Turnpike turned his paws up and shrugged. "Could be she is." Never mind, that friend Malcom was talking about sounded like a dead end, what with the disappearance of Caldin. Anyway, other questions persisted. Turnpike looked at his spouse with a headtilt. His paws gestured an after you, asking if she wanted to explain it. She decided to take a crack at it.

"Well 'cuz if you hadn't noticed, they're kinda, y'know, after us? You and me and...well, she's gone, but they don't know that. And you know as well as I do it's just like, stupid! We never subscribed because Boo has connections, so like, we never needed them. Now if we do come to them and give our side of it, they'll slap the cuffs on us! I for one, don't wanna be locked up in some pink jumpsuit prison with a barcode for a name, thanks."

Turnpike interjected, setting a paw on the simmering hyena's knee. "Now of course, since it's my woman on the line here, I'm invested anyway in this. Besides, I already just spoke high treason against SoluNet, so I might as well follow through. But realize, they're gunning for you too. Whatever you did or didn't do, they're gonna catch you anyway, and it seems their version of interrogation is to get a confession one way or another, innocent or guilty. Now since Spike here might as well be guilty, despite the clear self-defense Good Samaritan Act alibi, we've lost our key witness in an already slanted court case. I wouldn't expect your meathead buddies to be entirely truthful in their accusations either." He shifted in his seat, leaning back and draping one leg across the other. "I've got connections that tell me the police WANT to serve. If SoluNet goes down, they take the place of sheriff of their blocks. It'll do 'til the government can get its act together, anyway, and we might have allies in the fraternity of retired police officers. And where Edwin fits in is, any kind of ordinance we might need, from cork guns to ICBM's, is just sitting there, waiting for someone with the cojones to go pick 'em up. What I'm saying is, it's us or them, and they're far more crooked than I ever was. So the option for you is to either save your hide and that of everyone else SoluNet cheated--or at worst go down like a 18th-century patriot--or book it for the coast of Maze and hope they don't track you down. The other option is to get real cozy behind iron bars, though I've heard cryo-incarceration is the next big leap in criminal justice." Turnpike clasped both his paws together atop his own knee, letting his words sink in.
"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read." --Groucho Marx

You say 'fundamentalist' like it's a bad thing. X3

Asyriel
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Re: The Subfursives (1980s Sci-Fi Non-Canon)

Post by Asyriel » Thu Sep 21, 2017 3:15 am

Malcom sighed, he knew they had a point. The more he thought about just what they would have to do to make any kind of meaningful impact in Solunet's operations, the more he was starting to think that just going back to Edwin for goo might be easier in the long run.

"All right, I get where you're coming from." He replied. "But this is not going to be easy by any measure of the word. We may end up wanting that friend along before it's all said and done. Either way, we need a good plan, and some heavy ordinance. The bets way to hit them hard would be to take out whatever they're using to control all their cyberzombie officers. if I could get my hands on blueprints for that place, and some good explosives, I could take the entire place down or just completely destroy any equipment that matters inside." He shook his head, not liking the situation at all, but knowing it wasn't likely to get much better.

He eventually shrugged. "I don't know what you had in mind to accomplish taking them down, but it sounds like you've been thinking about it longer than I have, so if you've got ideas on how to go about doing it, I'd love to hear them."

Larcen
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Re: The Subfursives (1980s Sci-Fi Non-Canon)

Post by Larcen » Tue Oct 03, 2017 5:32 pm

Turnpike shifted in his seat. "Thing is, you can't just start killing cops," he said with the slightest bit of a shiver, "so we gotta take 'em on head-on. Lemme make a call, quick; I have a scientist contact who can probably tell us more. Can I borrow your phone?" Without bothering to wait for an answer, he went looking for one. Turnpike never did trust those cellular phones; they had to be traceable. Spike didn't really care about tech either; she was more the physical type.

This left the hyena and the serval alone. "Sorry I like, brought you in on this," she offered, consciously toning down her indignation that this would happen. "But my boo is smart; he'll figure something out. And don't worry, he, heh heh, he doesn't have a taste for blood," she added with a grin that smacked of her ancestral savagery. " 'Turnpike' --y'know that's not his real name, right?-- he isn't a killer; he's shady and I think he, y'know, kinda likes it, but he's nicer than he pretends." Spike had her own qualms about bloodshed too, but they extended only to loss of life or serious injury. A bloody muzzle or a broken bone here or there...well, that was just a little roughness; had to have some in roller derby. She wanted Malcom to know they weren't Bonnie & Clyde. Bunny & Claude, maybe...naaaah.
"Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a dog, it's too dark to read." --Groucho Marx

You say 'fundamentalist' like it's a bad thing. X3

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