Jeff
About
- Username
- Jeff
- Joined
- Visits
- 246
- Last Active
- Roles
- Member, Administrator, Moderator, King Jeff
Comments
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[Robinson] Robinson bides his time.
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[Robinson] The cover stops, and it's all open ground. All the way, that is, to the barricaded entrance. This is what's meant to happen. It's quiet up there. Their shooter is getting into position, reloading, or worse. Rue wants him to hang tight. …
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[Robinson] "Nothing for me," Robinson says, subtly eyeing the truck in his yard. That truck is on its last legs. Years of neglect and hard use have done it in, and it needs considerable work. Currently Matilda's crew represents a disproportionate …
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[Robinson] Clarity and Robinson are of a mind, moving up in Rue's wake. When the gunfire dies down and Rue has worked her way up, Robinson ducks away from his safe column and hurries to the wreckage of a burned-out vehicle out in the sea of cracked…
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[Robinson] "Just put it down here," Robinson says, at the garage entry. He'll set up an area himself, in the back of the workshop, clear of the repair bays and the workbenches and the corner where he has his combination of consumer entertainment …
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[Robinson] Food stash getting low? That's the price of keeping the town powered? Maybe he'd better remind Monroe who is keeping the lights on so they will remember to be generous when it comes to keeping him supplied with produce. But yeah, Robin…
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[Robinson] (Holy cow, that woman in the picture could use a firearm safety course.) * Another shot, and then a quiet lull. Robinson remains tight against the concrete column. He makes darting eye contact with Clarity as he emerges, spoils in tow.…
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This is what has kept Robinson busy for the intervening weeks: a.) Monroe's power comes from a small Archimedes screw driving a generator upstream. The device is perfect in its setting- low head, debris-resistant. Though there is limited demand f…
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Sharp (Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 5, 3. Total: 8)
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[Robinson] Robinson actually came along on this one as security. Not armed security, but as a guide. There was a little trickiness to the navigation required to get out here: some strange hotspots that had been marked on one of Robinson's wall maps…
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Cinch, highlight Robinson.
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I think Rue knows Robinson better.
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Hi everyone, I thought I should get around to putting myself here. I'm Jeff from Ottawa. I've collaborated with Adam for years and also gamed with several of you on a variety of PBF forums. I greatly favor the by-post format and games using the *wo…
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[Robinson] "A small power source. The kind I use for my detectors." Robinson leaves it at that. Something tells him that whatever happens, the glove is going to complicate things in Monroe. The fewer people involved, the better things will be for …
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[Robinson] "I've asked Thirds to find something for me," Robinson says, looking over his shoulder at Cinch and Clarity while Bish is working on his hand. "If you can find him, he may be interested in a ruins run, too."
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[Robinson] "It's Robinson," he corrects Bish. He does so matter-of-factly, in the dull tone of a man who bears the weight of countless minor annoyances, one of them being the propensity of people to abbreviate his name. Is Rue going around telling …
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[Robinson] "You don't look half bad, for an argument with a shotgun." Wry. He's glad Clarity has more-or-less survived, though. So many people live just in the present. It's understandable, but Clarity looks both forward and back. A rare breed. A v…
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[Robinson] What was Robinson working on? Well, scrounging. It's a project he's working on with his eldest son, Nils. They're keeping it quiet for the time being, but let's just say Nils has been searching for a good source of malt grain and hops, a…
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[Robinson] Rue calls him Robbie. Funny thing, that. He doesn't mind, not exactly, but not many people call him that. Most get a stony glare for using Robbie but for whatever reason he has made an exception of Rue. He's not sure why. "Need a power…
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[Robinson] She'll want to see how it works. Robinson is sure of it. That, or wait for an opportune moment to destroy it, which he wouldn't mind, really, if only he could first finish the task and deliver the product. No destroying the glove on Robi…
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[Robinson] Robinson is still, his gaze set unflinchingly on Rue. He was in no rush to get back to the workshop, or to run further errands, but to end the conversation, having learned the little something that had pricked his curiosity. He's not o…
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"Scares me too," Robinson says. For those on the receiving end of the glove to get a fair shake will mean things are different from now on. Not less scary. Scarier for Harrow, in fact. He does get up this time. If Rue has nothing more to say, he'l…
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Read a Person: (Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 3, 6. Total: 9)
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[Robinson] "Hard to say, exactly," he says. He doesn't say it hesitantly, just matter-of-fact, and Rue is making him a little nervous with the deliberate friendliness. "Make it work both ways. See how the wearer likes it." Not quite that simple. N…
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[Robinson] Robinson takes the glove back, slips it into a pocket, shakes his head. He doesn't just repair things. He fixes them. There's a world of difference there. On some level he realizes that his plans for the glove won't put an end to its leg…
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[Robinson] Rue independently confirms the glove's chilling purpose. It makes Robinson wonder who could have made something like it, and why. Then he'd have to ask himself why he's built half of the stuff in his own workshop. He folds his hands to…
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[Robinson] Robinson pulls up a seat, settles on it across the table from Rue. "Maybe you outlived him," Robinson says, turns the glove inside out. Right under the tag, in nice script: Jones. He sets it down on the table. A little Robinson momen…
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[Robinson] Robinson's on the way back from meeting with Corbett when he detours up the road to Rue's church to see if she's around. As luck would have it, she is. He approaches, obviously intent on having a word. "Ever know someone named Jones?" …
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Robinson shrugs. He hasn't seen Hugo in years. Heard of him, yes, but last time he saw the guy's face they were just kids in Bastion, over on the wrong side of the Hudson where the remains of the George Washington Bridge crumble in view of the imme…
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"Which one?" Robinson asks, blinking. Had they talked about a specific group?