Chicane: Hot nights on the streets of Miami.

[Flippy_D]

Chicane: Hot nights on the streets of Miami.

"The night's warm. Of course, in this neck of the woods that's hardly unusual, but tonight... tonight it's stifling. It's almost like the air is trying to crush the pedestrians on the street.
The street...
It's emptier than usual tonight. Guess the weather is keeping people inside. I look up, the squally clouds broiling overhead. They look like trouble.
I slip into a side alley, and approach the unassuming beige door behind the dustbins. There's water on the street.
With a sharp triple-tap on the wood I make my presence known. The alley behind me is lit up dully as the ID bar slides across with a grating sound. The eyes behind it crease into a grin.
"Hey, Bill, it's Chicane!"
Sitting down at a circular table opposite the dartboard, I nod to the barman for a glass of the usual.
Oh, and that's one thing I forgot to mention. Folks in my area of... business don't go waving their names around like confetti. You need an alias, a professional name. As a faded cocktail glass is deposited heavily next to my fedora on the table, I sip the alcohol with a pensive expression.
I'm a freelancer, and folks in this town call me Chicane."

Going for a film noir feel, comments and (constructive) criticism are welcome.
I've been thinking about turning this into a series of games, which I will start work on some time after finishing DROID (which is progressing nicely, for your information).
Like, say, Blackadder, the Chicane series will all feature the same character, but at different stages in history. This could make for some interesting changes in methods used, countries, jobs, clothing, items, etc. Also, the games will be set in various areas, with suitably, uh, suitable scenarios. I plan to cover the 1930's to the 1990's, with distinct prospects for a game set in the eighties as the second in the series already present.

However, one should not get ahead of oneself, so I'll start work on the others if the first should prove to be a hit.

[Ginny]

Sounds great!
I love the noir feeling and the main character sounds interesting just from this paragraph. Sounds very moody, also.
There isn't really anything I can criticise.

I'm sure this will be a great game .

[Darth Mandarb]

Just from reading the intro I was getting a great 'feel' to the character already.  Kinda like a cross between Max Pain and Duke Nukem ... only cooler.  I could see/feel the environment.  Very descriptive.

I hate Miami.

I would love to see a game about this.

cheers,
dm

[BOYD1981]

The alley behind me is lit up dully as the ID bar slides across with a grating sound.

did you a word out?  

[Flippy_D]

No. Did you?

You know what I'm talking about... the ID bar they look through to confirm who it is.

[x0z]

Sounds like a fun!

[oftopic]
Max Payne is from FINLAND!
[/oftopic]

[Flippy_D]

What's an Aromipesa?

Continued:

I sit there, watching a suicidal fly tempt fate by landing on the chequered tablecloth in front of me. Waving it away with a bored hand, I glance apprehensiely at my now empty glass. I check my watch. He's late, by 7 minutes. But I can't help grinning. The man's always late. Always. It's his calling card, to arrive 8 minutes late. They call him 480 second man, but that's not his professional name. There's a distinct knock on the door. One loud and sharp tap.
That's him.
I make a point of not looking as I listen to his footsteps making a track across the floorboards to my position. As his umbrella rests itself gently on the table, I give him an apathetic glance. There's a silence, and I know that the the bartender is watching. My visitor lights a cheap cigarette and sits down opposite me. I don't let my eyes leave his face. There is a further wait, until he stubs out his half-finished drag suddenly in front of me and leans foward.
"I got your message. You call me Bridge."
I return the stare with a raised eyebrow.
"And you call me Chicane."

[x0z]

Offtopic, answer to Flippy:
Like Haddas said:

For everyone out there who doesn't know what AROMIPESÃ,, is:

Aromipesä is Finlands greates natural resource! It lives in closets and is GREAT for people who have VERY much patience when making food! It is our JOY and PRIDE!

You can see 3d picture in my signature!

[Archangel (aka SoupDragon)]

Wow, sounds pretty awesome, flippy. The only thing I might be worried about is having too much plot and not enough game, but I'm sure you'll work it out.

[Flippy_D]

This is just an idea I'm toying with. Of course, whilst the detail here is in words, the scene could easily be done in AGS at the moment. It's just it wouldn't last long.

[Flippy_D]

I suppress a grin at the nervous way Bridge keeps checking his surroundings. There's only people I know here, and looking like you're up to something isn't the best way to be covert. He gives me the information I need, punctuated by twitchy glances around the room.
 "So. Chicane, eh? Well, I got your message. And, uh, here I am" he gestures at himself weakly. I give him a terse frown and he continues. "Well, thing is see, sorry, um, ah... the information was a little bit hard to come by...." he trails off and gives me the look of a man trying to be subtle.
"No chance, Bridge. We agreed days ago what the pay was. Unless you want to have me as an enemy, you're not getting a single extra cent." He recoils and stammers an apology. No-one wants me as their enemy. I'm just too good and he knows it.
"No. No, uh, of course not. Forget I even asked".
"I already have. Don't remind me" I growl.
"Ehm. Right. Well, see, despite the.... difficulties, I got what you need. It's all here in this envelope." He flashes a brown corner of it from beneath his jacket. I wondered why he was dressed so warmly. Was that a bulletproof vest? I hide my query in my drink and mutter:
"All?"
"Yes, all you asked for. Door codes, guard times, gun models and the usual. And get this: a nice little architect's plan of the building" he catches my glance and hastily adds "at no extra cost, of course." His features twist into a sort of desperate grin. This man is annoying me.
"Alright," I say gruffly "let's go outside and finish this deal".
"Outside?" He practically shrieks the word "but... but..."
"It's safer" I tell him calmly. "You can't run out of a building as fast as running down an alley. That and I won't get a straight shot if you try to cross me in here. Let's go." I get up abruptly and yank him along before he can protest. I nod to the barman. "I'll be back later to cover my tab". He gives me a rebuking glance, but nods.
Outside, I release Bridge and he takes a few steps back. I heft a small paper bag out of my pocket and he slips the envelope from underneath his attire. We exchange them and he starts to back away. I let him take his faltering steps down the alley to the street, and slip the packet into my jacket. Just as I turn to go back into the bar, there is a small noise.
Swish. Thud. Thud.
I turn slowly around, hands away from my sides, and watch just in time to see Bridge slump to the grit, a thick arrow sticking out of the back of his head.

[remixor]

I really like the idea of the various time periods.  Are you going to justify it in terms of plot, or is it just going to be part of the game's style?  It seems like in a game as plot-heavy as yours you'd want to explain the circumstance, but I'm sure you could pull it off either way (I'm just curious).  I love Black Adder, which is why I'm wondering

Anyway, it sounds like you have the atmosphere down cold, so your game should be very engrossing.  Can't wait!

[Flippy_D]

I mean... hmm. I mean that each game would be in a different time period. No other reason except that it would establish the main character (although his personality may change), and it stops sticking to one genre.

[remixor]

Oh ok.  I'm not sure how I misread that.  For some reason I thought you mean it would be a big long game which encompassed multiple time periods.  If they're going to be separate games though, I agree that it would be better not to give it a specific reason (like, as you say, Black Adder).  Sorry about the confusion.  My post probably looked pretty dumb.

[Flippy_D]

Right you are. Incidentally, the Blackadders are linked. But vaguely. You'd need 'The whole Damn Dynasty' to get the full story.

[Flippy_D]

Continued:

I warily kept my arms free from my sides as a gesture of self-inflicted vunerability. The longer you look harmless, the longer you live. I raise my eyes, slowly, carefully, up into the darkness of the stairwells that cling to the alley walls. There is a faint movement and an ominous click and I hear a bowstring being tauntened. I should probably act fast before I end up like Bridge. Imminent death makes a man suddenly very keen to stay alive. I speak up into the shadows.
"My name is Chicane." No reply. "What do you gain if you kill me? If you want these plans, they're yours." No reply. Not too promising. I try again. "What do you want?". Silence for a while. Then there is a muted sound as a lithe figure drops to the darkened floor some meters away from me. There is a dull gleam of metal. Whoever it is has already proved they know how to use it. I try one more time, eyeing up a possible dive behind some pitifully small garbage cans on my left.
"I'm a freelancer."
The metal suddenly dips uncertainly. Good. Now, how to turn this to my advantage? I start to think hard, but my planning is interrupted by the slow and deliberate sounds of footsteps approaching. My hands scream to go to my holster and draw my pistol, but I'm sure I can associate that with getting my brains aired like poor Bridge. I stop myself - sympathy isn't a recommended trait in my line of work. A soft drawl starts me out of my consternation.
"A freelancer?"
Oh. So it's a woman.

[Flippy_D]

Continued:

I steel my resolve. Killing a women who might well kill you is acceptable. I wish I believed that. But for now, keep her talking... I need an opening, an opportunity to shoot. What to say...?
"Wake up, dreamer. I'm not going to let you plan no plans now." Okay, so she saw through that. I can talk and think at the same time. Right? "I guess ah should explain mah actions here. This rat," she throws a disgusted glance at the cooling corpse. Blood is lining the cracks in the gravel. "betrayed our crew back in New Orleans. His name is Tonne, but I guess he would have told you otherwise. And do you know why he betrayed us?" her voice is tinged by an acid bitterness "Not even for money. He did it because he would get to see more of her."
"Her?"
"Seraphim. Co-leader of the Locke tribe. Beautiful, yes, but a viperous bitch with it. So he lent them information. They ambushed us. Three of our 11 died and one's still in hospital. He might not survive. Tonne was chased from the area after finding out that Locke didn't want him..." She sighs and pushs aside strands of auburn hair from her eyes. She looks up and I hastily stop my hand straying to my holster. "So I tracked him here. To be honest, I thought he was asking you for help. But it looks like he was selling someone else out. So rats don't change."
I try and make my voice sound unthreatening. "Well, I'm sorry about that. But I should warn you that gangs don't last long around here. This is a city of mercenaries and freelancers."
"I don't know whether I want to go back. Hart -the leader- was... upset that I wasn't staying to help rebuild Forge. But they'll be alright. We were about to ally with the Jack Knife Squad. We'll take the entire north half of the city..."
Her eyes are distant, and I take the chance. I pull my beretta and point it squarely at her forehead. She starts and then glares at me, crossbow at her side.
"Drop it. Drop the crossbow and I'll let you go."
"Are all freelancers this treacherous?"
"Drop it!"
She unhooks the bolt with a sneer and shoulders her weapon.
"I ain't damaging this 'bow, sugar."
"Fine." I can see why, it has the look of a professional touch. "If you lived in these parts, you'd know to be scared of the name Chicane. Sugar." I suppose some call me arrogant. But I have reasons to be.

[Chrille]

Sounds promising Flippy, the only criticism is that the title (including the character's name) sounds like some 70's porno movie

[Flippy_D]

* Flippy_D tunes in to radio Chrille.

Ah. Hmm, yes. I can see that. But Chicane...

http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=chicane

Go figure. Maybe I will change the title though.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------

FYI: http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=Verity

Continued:
I searched around for my cigarettes in my pocket. Bringing them out and flipping open the box, I discover to my irritation that it's near empty. Drawing out the last two, I reluctantly flip one to the girl. Which reminds me...
"What do you call yourself then?"
"Verity"
I give a derisive laugh, something between a sneer and a chuckle.
"An pretty name to be edged with such irony, girl." I light up and watch her echo the action. She's not unattractive, but she has lines in her face that I usually associate with people twice her age. Guess she's seen some hard times.
"So, a crossbow? kind of an unorthodox weapon."
She goes to reach for it, but suddenly comes to her senses. The sound of a Berreta cocking probably has something to do with it. She glares momentarily, but then her eyes glitter with pride as she tells me:
"Ah guess it could be called that. And ah guess it may be, but fact is I'm the deadest shot you ever did see. And you DID see." I glance at Bridge. "S'made outta mahogany. Heavy but durable. Silk bowstring, and even a laser sight attatched from my friends up in New York. I can shoot a bird outta the sky with this at 60 feet. Ah should know. Ah have."
"Well, whatever you do with your 'bow, I do with my beretta and then some. Remember that." Instantly, I realise that sounds like...
"So what, you lettin' me go?"
I haven't decided on that yet. But the weary creak of the beige door opening cuts short any further conversation. Bill strides out and accosts me:
"Alright Chicane, you've.... oh Lord." He's seen the remains of Bridge. Worse, he's seen Verity. I stand in front of him and the scene and try to reassure him.
"Bill. Bill? Bill, it's okay. The man was a traitor, he had it coming. It was nothing to do with me. It's alright." But Bill is having none of it.
"Chicane, I've known you a long time. A-a-and I'm sure you or this lady had a, uh, perfectly good reason, but I can't just ignore this. I'm calling the cops, best if you, um, don't come here for a couple of weeks." His voice gets stiffer. "I'm sorry Chicane, but I can't let this slide." He walks back into the bar before I can think of a way to stop him, outside of brute force or the muzzle of a gun. Which I don't want to do, this place is good for drinks. I sigh and turn back to Verity, planning on asking her if she was happy now. But she's gone, rejoined the shadows. All other options pointless, I push my hat further down on my head, hunch my shoulders in resignation, and stroll back down into the street, heading for home.