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I'm actually going to give Hx-1 to Ammar. I think the sum total of their interactions is that he doesn't know her as well as he thinks he does.
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Jul 8, 2014 02:42
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Going to give +1 to Jonathan, considering well, he's never even seen him before. "Huh, last I saw you got dragged off into some back room by x-com goons and you ain't dead? Well, you must have SOMETHING going for you.
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Jul 8, 2014 03:30
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"And now, brothers, sisters, and those who choose differently, it's me, your eyes and ears, with the news. Since early this morning, the waves have been singing with search parties out looking for Anne, the daughter of Sandy Flats' President Dave. Well worry no longer, children, for Anne is back home, only a little the worse for wear. Turns out she stumbled into an old pre-war bunker, looks like it might have been set up for some old rich white man, one of those festering assholes that we can lay the blame for this entire hosed-up world DIRECTLY AT THEIR FEET! YOU INCOMPREHENSIBLE JACKASSES, YOU'RE THE REASON- Ah, pardon me, children. I've more things to do than yell at dead men. Little Anne had herself a bit of excitement, but the upshot is this, children: There are all sorts of arms out there, nuclear and otherwise, and it turns out that some of them? Some of them you can hug your children with. Now, the story of this bunker isn't ending here, people. Even as I speak I'm hearing reports of weapons fire out there, as your friends and mine, those you may know as the choosers of the slain, do what they do best. But to get serious for a moment, boys, girls, and stranger besides, there's someone caught in the middle of this. A sheep in wolf's clothing, with the sins of his father draped about him like the world's nastiest cloak, and children, these days I've seen some nasty cloaks. If he's listening, I got this to say to you, my man: You've had more poo poo dropped on you than maybe anyone else still living in this hosed-up world, but you ain't gone any crazier than most of us. And that's a grand old thing, means you're stronger than you give yourself credit for. And that's been the news as witnessed, brothers, sisters, and those who claim no affiliation to a gender-binary system. Now here's a song the younger among us may need some explanation for: Perry Como with Delaware." --- Dave knows Witness just a bit better, mostly just confirming that the dude- dudette? is fuckin' weird.
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Jul 8, 2014 14:39
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+1 to Jonathan, now in the uncomfortable position of being the only person who knows a dang thing about Jaime's life before... all this.
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Jul 8, 2014 20:39
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+1 to Jaime, who's the only one to know something is breaking down in Ammar.
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Jul 8, 2014 21:09
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Alrighty, that's everybody. Now we just need stat highlights, and to sort out where we want to come back in on. I was thinking a few days to a week or so, just enough for things to have settled and the consequences of the bunker incident to start coming up. That cool with all of you, or do you want to stay closer/go further out on the timeline?
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Jul 10, 2014 00:40
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If we're using my leadership roll*, finishing up as I put the final bullet in this herd of gribblies would be nice. I kinda wanted to, if Davin is up for it, IC interview his family if/when he chooses to defrost them. Quite honestly its the best option as opposed to leaving a bunch of thawed out EXALT supporters in the hands of ex-X-Com personnel. (Assuming Valkyrie doesn't just yank out the power plug.) *If you choose to count that leadership roll, I'd mark Hard for another xp, which would put me at 5. To represent this I'd mark " for gigs, add a manufactory. Surplus: +1barter, want: +idle." to represent Dave using the bunker's resources to manufacture long term wealth instead of just looting the thing in one go. I know Valk is opposed to this so IC debate would be needed.
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Jul 10, 2014 01:15
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The time advance is about when the new aliens land, right? Sure, why not. Also I can't defrost my friends until I get an advance, so...
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Jul 10, 2014 01:20
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Well, yes, if/when.
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Jul 10, 2014 01:25
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My Hx has not changed this session, so Valkyrie, you get to pick my highlight again. And I'm fine with pretty much any timeskip.
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Jul 10, 2014 05:12
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I got a four way tie. K-Prime, do the honours for the highlighting. For reference, I'm at 4 exp. 2 hot rolls, 1 hard roll, 1 xp from obeying Dave's manipulate. While I didn't actually harm Jonathan much, my reaction to his manipulate was to shove him up against the wall and put a gun in his face, so I'm not claiming any exp for that.
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Jul 10, 2014 23:30
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Ammar still is my highest, so I'll take my highlight from you! For Witness, definitely choosing Weird I'm at 4xp as well.
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Jul 11, 2014 02:57
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I think my highest is now a tie between Jamie and Dave. Jamie did it last time, so Dave, highlight for Jonathan. I'm at 3xp.
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Jul 11, 2014 03:04
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Hard  .I guess witness should pick my next.
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Jul 11, 2014 03:08
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Valkyrie can highlightSharp
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Jul 11, 2014 09:10
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Dave, my man, you panicked a little there. Not saying it wasn't justified, but you need to be Cool.
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Jul 11, 2014 11:20
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Ol' Ammie is gonna have to go weird if he wants to get any respect...
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Jul 13, 2014 12:30
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Jaime, who's giving you a highlight? I'll be putting up the MC highlights and a new session starter in the thread tomorrow, either way. Sorry for the big delay on this one, guys.
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Jul 15, 2014 03:53
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Oh balls, sorry- its still Valkyrie. For now.
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Jul 15, 2014 11:41
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You get Weird too.
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Jul 16, 2014 01:39
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Excellent. MC highlights are to follow. Witness, let's see how cool you can be. Jonathan, you've already been told to harden up, but I want to see if you can keep yourself sharp. Valkyrie, things are getting ugly, and not in the way guns can solve. Think you can run hot enough to play the political end? President Dave, dog, you and your daughter have mutated arms. That's pretty fuckin' weird. Ammar, can you stay cool even with your brain shutting down? And Jaime, you showed things you never wanted anyone to see. That got you hot under the collar? And now, the rest of our show: X-COMmunicated, Session 2: Fire Control. Things haven't been pretty, these last few days. Let's run down the list. Jonathan, the computer's shut down and your bunker's on minimal support. Between the AI in control of the place being hosed, and the guns outside being shot, the place is less a safety bunker and more of a tomb waiting to happen. You still trying to keep the place together, or did you move into town? -- Dave, I mean, aside from the arm, life's going pretty good as the president. Sure, you're sleeping on the couch for a few days and Anne's grounded indefinitely, but you know what else? It's bright and early, and you've got a sectoid under your boot. That alien scouting party didn't know what loving hit it, and after a few days of rooting them out of their dug-in holes, it's all over but the cleanup. This is just about the last survivor, not counting some war-wounded who might have a little more time. Gonna kill the thing, or take it in? -- Ammar, things are...Less good for you. Emotions coming in bits and spurts, sometimes contained and sometimes not...gently caress, sometimes they come in hyper-strong. And of course the town doctor can't do poo poo about it. What're you up to? Trying to find a way to last longer, or just trying to pour your remaining time into researching X-ALT? -- Valkyrie, I've got some weird news and a question for you. Weird news is, Meldy is still around. Not even shooting the drat thing has kept it from following you everywhere like a puppy. A puppy that glops around everywhere instead of having legs. Also, it's still wearing your goddamn jacket. ...This cannot be good for your image. My question is, where's your focus? I imagine you're probably out in the field helping with the alien fight(though if you're not, hey, lemme know), but you've got a lot of poo poo on your mind, you know? This whole thing with Jonathan's bunker. Ammar's not looking so good lately. And whatever happened to Jaime, seems like it might've rattled her cage. -- Jaime, the eyes have seen things they perhaps shouldn't see, and they have been gazed into by ones who should not have been able to do so. More answers aren't coming easily, and there is the matter of the aliens...Are you out in the field, or did you slip off to deal with your own poo poo? -- Witness, things have been...Well, tricky, I've got to imagine. Seeing that rout of the aliens can't have been easy. And while you haven't run into that raccoon again face-to-face, any food you've put out seems to disappear awfully swiftly. Of course, you have to know enough of the alien's comms to have seen that that was an investigative and scouting party...Which means there are more. So let me ask you this...You going to leave them be, or are you gonna try and make up for the time you tried to help and failed?
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Jul 16, 2014 03:21
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Ammar I look around. The old little building is looted clean, pretty much abandoned. It suits my purposes fine. So, things aren't very good right now. No, that's not the right way. I'm falling apart. Most of the times I can operate, with only now and then cases of colours making sounds or anything like that. But a few times I've had... outbursts. Emotional outbursts. Things that I should be impossible to me. I start with the compass, making a vague estimation. Somewhere to the southeast. To a place I'll never actually go most likely. To a place that doesn't exist in a way. I hang a small ribbon on the wall and mark the right position on the ground so I'll face right. First time was not too long after I left the bunker. The computer had to be put on ice to avoid drawing further attention. That is sensible. But no more answers could be gotten, and I lost a trump card. I'd feel the irritation, and then... I had struck a nearby tree and shouted in anger and frustration. I return to the entrance of the building, putting down a bowl. I fill it with water. Boiled it clean myself. A small mat is laid on the ground. I don't even... remember it. Not fully. It's an abstract thing I knew I did. Trying to relive it just activates the neural dampeners again. That in its own way is frustrating. If I'm dying for it, I'd at least like to regain the ability to fully remember my emotions again. I undo the laces of my combat boots and socks. My feet immediately start to take the colour of the floor near the entrance. Valkyrie probably figured out something is wrong. I should probably talk to her. Get answers. But, well, there was a lot to do. And I did accuse her of being in cahoots with these Ex-Alt collaborators. Easier to focus on the aliens coming at us. All right, time to get ourselves clean. "bismi-llāhi r-raḥmāni r-raḥīm" In the name of the most Gracious, the most Merciful. The words still sound like they used to I think. The other Arabic is slowly starting to get rusty. Twenty years of barely using it. I spent more times in the United States than I did back home in Iraq. Right arm up to the wrist, left arm up to the wrist, rinse mouth thrice, use finger to clean teeth. Pour water in nose with right hand, hold bridge with left hand, exhale. What to do? I could just try to question anyone, hope to find out what Ex-Alt was, what the aliens were doing. I could just focus on getting one of the doctors of this Ex-Alt, get him to try to... fix this. I could hunt down the aliens coming after it and see if I can MAKE them talk. Maybe they learned to speak English during their long stay here. I could walk away into the night and just accept my coming end. Was the face three times, up to where I think my hairline once was. Wash right arm. Wash left arm. Perform Masah, running wet hands over my head and down the back of my neck. I don't know. For the longest part there was nothing to know. There was the road, towns and bounties. A simple path. And now things got complicated. And I don't know what to do next. I start washing my feet. Make sure to put my little finger between every toe. The old imam used to say that the Wudu was a gift from God to mankind. Because sometimes it can be hard to know what the right thing is. And so he gave them something they could simply follow instructions, a thing all could do provided they wanted to put in the effort, to show their dedication to virtue. "lā ʾilāha ʾillā-llāh, Muḥammadun rasūlu-llāh" There is but one god and Muhammed is his prophet. I still believe that. I know that sometimes I feel a presence in combat. Something... light. Like a whisper in the back of my head. This cold of course have been simply the first warning signs of my imminent mental degradation. But maybe... it isn't. So let us humble ourselves before god, and pray to him for guidance. For I need it very, very badly. And so I go to the prayer mat and prostrate myself towards Mecca. Opening our mind in prayer, hoping the all merciful one will give us a hint as to what to do about his head. Open your mind: 2d6-1 2 Guess that's a no.
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Jul 16, 2014 22:39
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Jonathan Jackson Bunker -> Outside Bunker Harm 3:00 (1/6), xp 3/5 Why isn't this thing working?! Ugh...it's no drat use. The computer's not working, half the doors are locked, I can't even tell if the rest of the people are okay, I can't find my father's location, nothing. Heck, the only reason I can still access the library is that I dropped a book in the doorway by accident and it jammed the door open. I can't do anything here. And since the locals know I'm here, I'm a sitting duck. Nobody's tried the defenses yet, but it's just a matter of time. Especially now that aliens are out and about. Somebody's going to try to find shelter, find me, and...bang. I need to...I'm going to go into that local town, try to figure something out. For some reason I've been hearing bits and pieces of...a radio broadcast over the intercom? I don't remember it having any access to the outside world, but maybe there's someone out there who still knows how a radio works. And if they can do that, maybe they can help me, with all this. There's nothing for it. I put on my gun, grab some water purification tablets and a full bottle, take a deep breath, and push open the front door.
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Jul 16, 2014 23:41
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Dave Some days, it just all comes together. Dave wasn't sure how there were still so many of these little bastards around, since they weren't supposed to have genitals. Maybe they budded like yeast? At least Anne was (probably) going to be okay. He still wasn't sure if he was, however. The grey spot on his arm still felt weird and he kept suppressing the urge to poke at it. That wasn't the only change. While he had always had that vauge ringing in the back of his head it had never been really focused. The only time it rang loud and clear was when the missus lost her poo poo, at him or in general. But ever since that goddamn hitler-bunker-technodungeon populated by a kid Dave would have shoved in a toilet when he was his age, things had been getting worse and worse. Coming home that day with his kid in his arms nearly bowled him over the second the wife laid eyes on them. The words were upsetting, if familiar, but the...force behind them, for lack of a better word slapped the back of his brain like a conga drum. Shooting these things kept him focused. Let him ignore that, let him ignore Valkyrie had somehow reproduced in a terrifying yet vaguely hilarious manner. Let him ignore the outside hamlets were squealing for help again for some drat thing he'd have to get to after this. Wasn't a total loss though, that bunker was looking to be a highly useful stockpile. If he could keep it from just being stripped down and sold, they might even be able to turn it into a longterm investment. In any event, there was always the satisfaction of offing these crit- Oh what the gently caress. These things had always made a weird short shriek yelp when shot, despite the lack of a moving mouth, but why is this squealing sounding like WORDS? Every ingrained instinct of the past two decades is telling him to push just a little harder and watch its eyes and frontal lobe pop out the front of its head, but much like putting that weird grey poo poo in his arm it seems like he's open to all sorts of bad ideas lately. Read a person (or rough equivalent). How could I get this thing to coherently communicate with me? Hold has surplus +2 (+3 if I can get the bunker as the manufactorum upgrade), but he has an obligation to the surrounding areas to deal with.
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Jul 16, 2014 23:56
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Valkyrie XP 4/5 Valkyrie wipes green ichor off her face, and then off her blade. She fishes her pistol out of its holster, ejects the spent magazine and inserts a fresh one, then puts it away again. The sharp, nauseating smell of miasma is dissipating, but she still gives the purple-green cloud a wide berth as she picks her way back up the slope. There's not enough to really hurt her, but she'd rather not cough her lungs out if she can avoid it. The war isn't clean, or straightforward. But its familiar. Valkyrie knows all the steps. She can lose herself in the muscle memory of it all, the well-worn path of violence. It's work that needs to be done. Work she's good at it. And it lets her put off some things, give her a chance to work them over in her mind before she takes action. Something's wrong with Ammar. Not the usual, something physical. If the Meld is breaking down, then that's going to be a big problem. Then there's Jaime. If Valkyrie really is the one keeping X-COM's torch burning, then she owes the younger woman a debt. A big one. On the other hand, Jaime isn't exactly stable. She's extremely dangerous, and her powers are worrying. So she's got two potential allies who look like they're on the edge of coming apart at the seams. The bunker is the key. She came on too strong to the boy, but she can fix that. The records, the equipment. It isn't as good as what she had at HQ, but it's close. There will be answers there. Maybe enough to finally let her map a way to her promised land. She nods to herself. The bunker is the key. It's time to go and talk to Jonathan again. Speaking of which, it's time Valkyrie deal with that other problem that's been at the back of her mind. As she tops the rise, she looks down at her new shadow, hands on her hips. "All right, that's enough. Give me back my loving jacket, we'll get you your own."
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Jul 17, 2014 01:11
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Jaime A shadow detaches itself from the wall behind Ammar. "It seems you are starting to see again. Tell me, does it hurt opening your eyes after so very long?" Jaime steps up beside the prostrate man, sitting in childish sprawl to his left. If Ammar's eyes could truly open, he would be able to see the turmoil inside her. But he is blind. Which is why she is here, with the one person that cannot see her pain, no matter what. Nobody is permitted to see. "You retreat to old habits. Is it because you are afraid? Afraid of what you might see? You don't have to answer. I can see it." She lies back, staring at the ceiling, or more accurately, through it to the sky. "You're afraid of dying. Like everyone else. I don't see why. Dying is easy. Being dead is easy. You run from it because you have things to do, everyone says, but everything is ending. We're all ending soon. I've seen it. So it won't matter who goes first. There's not a line." She looks at him. "It's not your time yet, though. I can see that now. You'll die screaming." Talking like a god to another helps. It keeps her from the pain of being just Jaime.
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Jul 17, 2014 01:32
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Witness Witness' day does not consist entirely of tooling around in their van, broadcasting whatever comes to mind willy-nilly over the airwaves without a care in the world. As someone theoretically friendly with everyone and with a working vehicle, they are often called on to make deliveries between settlements: Mail, supplies, the occasional betrothed or apprentice. What with the bunker, and the McKinley's goat calving (Doc Walnut needed to be called in to stick a hand in), and the Ross wedding (Mostly gifts and RSVPs, not any participants), Witness hasn't had much of an opportunity to think on other things. Out of sight, out of mind, for the moment. However, recently, something in the back of their mind has been bothering them. Some urge that now has the van jouncing along a stretch of suburban road, Witness' map showing every house along it as "cleared". In the passenger seat, a small glass jar bounces lightly, the pay they'd been given for the vet run. The McKinleys had never opened it for being too precious: A small jar of instant coffee. Slowing as they near a house that looks like all the other houses, they pull up onto the dead lawn (The driveway being blocked by a rusted moving truck), bumping over a reaching root of a gnarled crabapple tree before parking with one wheel on the walkway and shutting off the engine. Popping open the back doors, Witness sets up a small gas camp stove and begins boiling water. --- Bonefeel, +Weird: 2d6+2 13, holding 1+1. Spending that hold immediately to show up at Ammar's place with coffee. XP: (X)(X)(X)(X)(>)
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Jul 17, 2014 03:59
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Jonathan, you've got a good few miles between you and the town, and there's the remains of a firefight through a lot of that. Not exactly a lot of shots being fired, though, and you can spot some familiar-ish faces in the distance. Gonna hold your hands up and try to get through, or take your sweet time going around? -- Dave, so you've got the sectoid under your boot, it's flailing, etc. etc. etc. But if you look right into its bigass bulgy eyes, and kind of focus, yeah, it starts sounding less like alien hooting and more like, well, words. Did I say words? I meant word. The word of the day is "MERCY, mercyyyy!", right out of the sectoid's...Uh...Face. Or maybe its brain. I mean, it doesn't have a mouth. Point is it's pleading to be spared, you know, like defeated foes do. Whatcha gonna do? -- Valkyrie, Meldy stares at you for a moment. It looks a little less unnerving, since Meldy, at some point, somehow got a pair of small rocks stuck in its 'face'. They're kind of like eyes on a snowman, if you remember snowmen. Did you ever try to explain to a kid what a snowman was? Man, the post-fall kids are weird. Sorry, I'm getting off topic. Meldy wiggles its way out of your jacket until said clothing is on the floor, and nudges it towards you, before meeting your eyes with its pebbles. And it's looking rather...expectant. I think it wants that jacket you promised sooner, rather than later. What do you do? -- Ammar, peace is so hard to find, and so easy to lose. Here you are, going through an entire ritual for a faith that you haven't shared with anyone around you for so long. Alone in this abandoned little room, clinging to beliefs like a piece of wood in the ocean... Well the loving sharks are circling. Your mind is turning against you. There are dozens of things that the strangeness in the world could ask, hundreds of fragments that flit by your mind's eye...But there's one that sticks. One that just loving sits in your skull like a throne and then takes a big old poo poo all over your brain. What if you're wrong? When you've sorted out your reaction to that, however you choose to interpret it, that'd be when Jaime comes in. -- And Jaime, you can feel hints of the strangeness all around Ammar, even as you try to have all the answers. The thing is, you're not a god, are you? Those eyes of yours are turning inward, sometimes, looking at yourself...What do you want to see, the next time you gaze upon your inside? -- And a bit after that would be when you hear the Witness show up, you two. One of the few folks just about everyone can trust. Witness, you've got some water boiling, and you can get coffee put together for the weary and the restless...It's not quite real coffee, but it's drat better than the super-crop X-COM put together as a side project during the war. Sure, they were able to grow coffee anywhere, even in the base like a college kid growing pot in the closet, and the beans were in grindable, brewable state right off the plant... But it tasted like drinking dirt. The dirt out of a public ashtray. Anyways, the point is that you have instant coffee made from legit beans, which is truly something precious. But there's a rustle from some of the native growth scattered amongst this dead lawn. Could be your raccoon friend, could be something else. What do you do?
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Jul 18, 2014 01:38
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Jaime People have asked Jaime that a lot. Not in those terms, of course. "What are you going to do with yourself?" "Why are you shooting me?" "Who are you?" First, she'd tell you she was the Chooser of the Slain. Second, if she liked you, and you kept at it, she'd tell you she wants everyone to be happy. Including herself. Third's the truth, as three always is, and its one that she'll never tell anyone again. Never, ever ever. It's true. She wants to be happy. But what's happy for someone who can't stop seeing everything? Who either is staring into an empty void or seeing all the eyes on her, constantly, now and forever and ever amen? There's no such thing. There's no end. There's no longer even a beginning to Jaime, where she starts and other people stop- that line has blurred over the years and become more of a smudge, a crossing rather than a border. What does Jaime want to see one day, when she is done at last and she looks at herself at the end? Nothing.
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Jul 18, 2014 02:08
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Dave "..." Dave reaches down and picks the sectoid up, holding it upside down in front of him. Risky, if that little poo poo has a knife or something, but whatever. "Uh if I'm 'hearing' you right <Clarification Request:> You, <You:Is:Are  > DON'T <Request for exemption> want me to do what I usually do here, right? <YOUR BRAIN MATTER SPLATTERED ACROSS LAND SCAPE>." Dave squints. "Talk back to me here, because otherwise..."<Elaboration pending, else: YOUR PHYSICAL REMAINS TAKEN HOME TO OFFSPRING, BEATEN LIKE 'PINATA'>
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Jul 18, 2014 03:37
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Jonathan Jackson Bunker -> Outside Bunker Harm 3:00 (1/6), xp 3/5 Bullet casings...dropped guns...blood stains...dead bodies?! Dear gods, the aliens must've...all the bodies are aliens. But there's some piles of ashes around...I don't want to think about it. Who's that way off there, though? They aren't shooting, and they haven't called for me to drop my gun or anything yet...wait a second, were they in the bunker?! I pick up the pace and head up to them, keeping my gun safely away from everything else.
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Jul 18, 2014 06:19
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Ammar I strive too ignore the girl beside of me, Dampeners helping keeping the anger in check. No, nobody interrupts a conversation with the One On High. The words sound in my head like laughter at a funeral. Any peace of mind, any solace the prayer might have been giving me evaporates. I rise from my prostate position and think the words, clear and confrontational. As if trying to think... wherever that came from to repeat it. There is but one god and Mohammed is his prophet. The neural dampeners hold, so I remain a stoic expression. I think in English these days. I don't like it. There is no such thought again. The throne is once empty, though the poo poo feeling remains. And then a part of me wonders. But why don't I hear him? I fought hard, I keep the faith. Why... all this? There are some questions that I can't answer. This ends up not being one of them. I remember that there was a young girl and her father hurt on the ground, and a clearly confused and unpredictable violent young woman to watch over them. (She just ended up following me, of course) And, hungry for answers, I had just walked away. In the book of my life, too many chapters end like that it seems. And then Ammar walked away. I can defend some of them. With various amounts of sincerity. And I'm considering it even now, aren't I? I'm avoiding asking the questions. I'm avoiding answering them. Laying low, and seeing if I can score good shots. A good tactic in combat. But I probably shouldn't use it so often. Maybe I am wrong. Not about God, but about what I'm doing. I'm not doing right. I take another prostate bow, finishing this. Allah didn't provide answers. but prayer helped anyway. "All men must die one day. But there's only One that knows the future. " He thinks on it. "You know what... I'm cutting this out. I tire of the riddles and the dance around. If I want to receive answers, I should be willing to give them. Yes, I'm afraid. No, that isn't why I pray. I try to do it whenever the opportunity presents itself. Since I'm on a long journey I don't really have to do that. It soothes me, it gives me confidence, but more importantly than that, it is the right thing to do." "But I am afraid. I'm afraid to die in inches. I might be getting some things back. But likely, I'll lose everything as I'll come apart at the seems. Start losing memories, start seeing things that aren't there, start forgetting how to do the things I'm good at, start to forget how my body works and end up a drooling imbecile in his own filth, screaming in uncomprehending misery. And then dying. Yes, I'm afraid of that." The sound of boiling water comes from outside and I reach for my pistol in reflex, then ease it away. I go outside. There's a... figure there, boiling water. "I... know you." I say. I'm not sure where I've seen that figure before. The clothes cover the form too much to even state certainly whether it's a man or a woman. Before I can start worrying whether this is just another sign of my mental degradation, my eyes are drawn to what he has. "Is that... coffee?" I say. There's a hint of yellow in my vision as joy pounds against its mental restraints.
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Jul 18, 2014 21:11
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Jaime Not moving from her prone position, she listens to Ammar. A response. "Don't worry about that. I meant what I said. You'll die in battle, War-Sworn. I've seen your kind before and there is no other fate."
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Jul 18, 2014 21:24
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Valkyrie XP 4/5 Valkyrie picks up the jacket, frowns at the Meld goo still on it, and looks at the blob again. She rolls her eyes. "On second thought, you keep it. I'll get a new one." She drops it over its 'head' and stomps back towards town. New jacket first. Then the bunker. Maybe she can scare up some gossip while she's there.
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Jul 19, 2014 02:07
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Witness "Twenty years ago, I said I owed you a drink." The words would be confident in the proper tone, but Witness sounds like they're only now remembering, as much rationalizing to themselves as explaining to Ammar. "Think we've, ah, seen each other around, um. Haven't talked." As Witness puts the coffee together, they keep glancing at the bushes and making certain their arc thrower is handy. "Might have a little company, um. A raccoon's been following me. Could be something else, though." They pass Ammar a "World's Greatest Lawyer  " mug brimming with piping-hot elixir.The radio operator takes a sip, yelps, and sticks their tongue out. "Too loving hot." An uncomfortable pause ensues. "I'm, um, terrible at small talk." Which seems weird since most of their broadcasts could be classed as small talk. "You got any problems I can help with?"
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Jul 19, 2014 03:28
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Ammar Jaime's statement about there being no other fates stings. Some memories come back. Especially having seen Dave so happily married. "I don't know. I think I had some chances to change my fate." I just say. But no time for regrets. Coffee. I blow on it a bit to cool it, then take a drink. "Hmm... yeah... relaly hot." I say. "Anyway, yeah, we did. I haven't talked much at all. Thinking of talking more. Well, I'm Ammar al'Hawwash. And I used to be in X-Com. And yeah. I have a problem. A lot of Meld was used to make me... what I am right now. Some of it in my brain. And now, it seems to not work properly anymore. Which means I'll soon have alien brain matter in my skull that isn't going to play nice with the rest of my brain anymore. And you know, might very well the other stuff is going to give problems too. My skin, my eyes, my hearts, my muscles. Basically, my warranty is expiring. So yeah... a problem." "And I'd be more okay with death upcoming. I mean, everyone has to go sometimes, except I've got a lot of questions. And I'm thinking maybe I can get answers. Why did the aliens never finish their job. Earth's defences are finished. Why didn't they come down hard on us in the first place anyway? What is this X-Alt thing, and why do they use Meld as good as X-Com, and even use the same name for it, a name X-Com invented. The computer says they're enemies, but I never heard of them. But I never did get the higher security clearances." "I should probaly ask Valkyrie. But there's the problem. I don't really trust her or X-Com. It's why I left." "So yeah, I have some problems."
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Jul 19, 2014 10:03
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Witness Witness listens quietly to Ammar's troubles, nodding sympathetically. When he mentions X-ALT, they perk up, but wait for him to finish. "EXALT, I, ah, I know them. There was... Hang on..." They scoot backwards into the van, grabbing their tablet off a rack. Slow finger flips transition into rapid thumb flicks for a few moments, a second finger poised to toss files into a holding folder. They call up a heavily-pixellated video still of a hexagonal red-and-black emblem, what could be the moon rising with a UFO silhouetted against it, or an upturned eye above the earth. "We got this- the video this came in- in place of our- X-COM's- Meld research when Vahlen and Co. were about half done with it. Got hushed up, claimed it was an unforeseen research complication, most that knew were... "reassigned" to an "auxiliary base," but one of them hid this and a little story on the network. So that, uh, explains how they got it, but I don't- didn't- have the clearance to know more either. Did get this across my desk, though..." The second file is a video clip from a helmet cam, a night firefight with floaters around a gas station. Metadata in the stream identifies the viewpoint as Rk. BUNTLINE, N. and the man ahead of him has "TANGO" stenciled on his back. The two are taking cover behind a destroyed car. As Tango begins to rise to move to another piece of cover, Witness taps their ear just ahead of a gunshot on the audio. Tango's head practically explodes, his body slumping violently across the hood of the car. The video blurs as Buntline whips his head around to try and locate the shooter, then is thrown back by a second shot. The last frames of video show the moon clouded with smoke. "The bodies of Rookies Buntline and Tango were unrecoverable, and Command decided the shots audible on the recording were from the rifles of our own troops. Bullshit." Witness begins to take on their more customary radio announcer voice. "I took it upon myself to seek the truth, and do you know what I found?" They call up the next file, a series of stills from the helmetcam footage. "I tell you, Ammar, "zoom and enhance" is never as easy as they make it look on TV, and it's been twenty years since I had to mention that." The initial image is just a bright spot through smoke, but the series rapidly resolves itself into a human- not humanoid like a Sectoid or Thin Man, obviously entirely human- figure atop a rooftop, illuminated by the muzzle flash of their sniper rifle. About the only details that can be made out are the face, swathed in a red-and-orange bandana, and a red insignia on their arm, angular, but indistinct at this resolution. "I may be paranoid, I may have spun this man out of whole cloth, in fact I made my breakthrough on this in our final days, but I think this is some of the only footage X-COM ever had of EXALT forces. They are- were- at the least hostile to X-COM, my brother, if not in league with the aliens. And-" A thought strikes them. "Wait, did you hear about these guys down in the bunker? That means Jonathan- Holy loving balls, so that's the sins of the father!"
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Jul 20, 2014 07:00
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Witness, Ammar, Jaime, good on you for talking out your issues and sharing. And now you've got an idea of what you're dealing with, and the kind of cloth Jonathan's been cut from. What're you gonna do about it? And right here, right now, what do you do? -- Dave, for a minute the Sectoid just...Stares. You get vibes off of it--side note, you holding it in your normal hand or the one attached to your crazy Melded up arm?--of sheer shock, like it never expected you to talk to it. You get that crazy warbly noise these things normally make, but laid over that is a scared, confused voice. It's kind of like when a translator would talk over someone speaking in a different language in a documentary, if you ever watched a documentary. "Do not shoot! I, I will speak. What you wish know?" So hey. Either the Sectoid knows English, or you know Sectoidese. Neither of those are good possibilities for continued normalcy. What do you do? -- Valkyrie, Meldy eagerly wriggles back into the jacket, and once it's properly adorned, it follows after you as fast as it can. It's practically sprinting to keep up, poor little thing. But then it catches up. And it reaches out, tugs on your pant-leg with one limb like a kid trying to get attention, and 'points' with another, burbling excitedly. And if you follow the direction it's pointing, why, is that Jonathan in the middle of a semi-active battlefield? ...Yes. Yes it is. So, first question, what the gently caress do you think this idiot kid is thinking? Second question, what do you do? -- Jonathan, you see a fair few just random members of Dave's militia about, stomping corpses, checking guns. You know, militia stuff. They don't really bother you, what with you being human and all. Even if they don't recognize you, you're dressed more like one of them than a raider or whatever, so they leave you be. You spot Valkyrie in the distance, about half a minute or so before her new mascot points you out to her. So what do you do, and how are you approaching her(or, you know, not) when she notices you?
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Jul 21, 2014 10:55
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Valkyrie XP 4/5 Valkyrie looks to where the... fine, Meldy, is pointing. She shakes her head at the perversity of the universe and the suicidal tendencies of the unseasoned. She immediately heads for the kid, raising her hand to get his attention. Once she's reasonably close, she calls out, "Jonathan! Wait right there." Kid's going to get himself killed wandering around like that. Or at least beaten bloody. Better get him in hand before either of those things happen. Hey, if Jonathan waits for Valk to catch up, I'll spend one of my hold from Visionary and give you an XP!
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Jul 22, 2014 00:32
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| # ? May 14, 2024 22:51 |
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Jonathan Jackson Outside Bunker Harm 3:00 (1/6), xp 3+1/5 I need xp, I'll take it! I'll be honest, I'm walking through this battlefield like it's...well, like it's some tourist place. Gettysburg or Antietam or Vimy like that, battles that were--such a long time ago--fought between humans on a massive scale. I gawk at the bodies, at the militiamen, at the blood seeping into the dirt--I pretty much do everything that says "I don't belong here". Then I see someone familiar...and then, something familiar. "Meldy? Valkyrie? Ah!" I pretty much stop and watch her come down to meet me. This is her terri--um, home. I'm the, ah, "guest" here. Better let her take the lead.
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Jul 22, 2014 02:31
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