<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/60/The_verse_small.jpg)<br/><div align="center"><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;">The Verse</span></strong></div></div><strong>Name</strong>: The Verse<br/><strong>Occupation:</strong>Game Master<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Streets of Mowa, Shadow<br/><strong>Time:</strong>3rd of september, 2505, early afternoon<br/><strong>With:</strong>Shadow Factory Strike, Mya, Richard, Cookie.<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">OOC</div><div class="spoiler_body">Roll Result: Mya rolled: 6d10<br/>First Target Number: 6<br/>Second Target Number: 10<br/>Comment: Mya Manipulation+Empathy<br/>Result: 10, 8, 7, 7, 4, 10, <br/>For: 2, 2, 1, 1, 1, 0, <br/>Total: 7<br/></div></div><br/><strong>”It <em>is</em> hard for a free trader to make ends meet.</strong>” the man nodded sagely.<strong>”My youngest sailed the black as an engineer’s mate. Older model trans-U. Captain never had the money to pay for proper parts so they had to make do with what they could find. One day, a condenser in the left engine nacelle blew up in his face. He ain’t sailin no more.<br/><br/>I suppose it don’t matter for us if you deliver your cargo and get paid. Because as long as <em>we</em> don’t get paid, there are no workers. Without us, no wheel is gonna turn and no plasma furnace is gonna burn.<br/><br/>I will send word to the men at the factory to clear the landing pad for your ship.”</strong><br/><br/>The older man reached out with his grizzled, working-man’s hand to grab Mya’s tender one.<strong>”Name’s Mack, by the way.”</strong><br/>