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 The sun rises in the east, just like it does every morning. Not even the end of the world stopped the sun, and for that, all were grateful. At least most. The sunrise is gorgeous, if anyone cares to look. Many that focus on it have nothing else to. Some rise with the sun. Some have been up for hours. Some never get up at all. The Island is small, really, and day breaks quickly across the landmass. But this morning, the first to see it rise is Sansa Merci, standing facing east, talking to Zeb. What's the chat about? Could be business, could be personal. Could be personal business. Either way, it seems pretty important. Dick, for you, the sun is a big help. Much harder to hide in the bright light of day. Who are you and your gang chasing? Why? Surprisingly (or perhaps not for those who know him), Toyman's got one of the biggest armories on the whole Island. Of course, who knows what shape any of the weaponry is in, or where it can be found in that mess. Shh, don't call it that to his face. Regardless, the man's got guns. This morning, someone's knocking on your door. They're not knocking it in, though. Maybe Big Sven wants to deal? Sethro, well, that didn't go well. What the gently caress happened last night? Why's the door not closed? Good work scavenging, Ebbs. Seems like a couple of big wrecks washed in over the past few days, doesn't it? Must be that time, whatever that time means. Weather's generally been good, but then again it usually is. Can't just be the weather causing ships to wreck here, can it? Anyway, you seem flush with jingle. Business has been good. Where's the best market you know? Nice to be buying instead of selling, isn't it? What, you were expecting some sort of luxe story? Give it time. You've just met the important characters, the best is yet to come. --MC Other important motherfuckers (spoilers): Dramatis Personae Captain Foo fucked around with this message at 05:49 on Dec 2, 2014 |
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Apr 3, 2014 00:13
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| # ¿ Apr 27, 2024 17:00 |
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Zeb follows the gesture with his eyes, hand covering the blade at his hip. A drop of blood drips and sinks into the sand, but Zeb himself looks none the worse for the wear. Clearly good in a fight, Sansa Merci, despite your concern. He's not concerned much either, with a half a shrug and half a wave to your words. "Is that all I am to you, a money sack?" He smirks, then recovers into a real smile. "I don't have to buy here, you know. Plenty of shipwrecks all across the island. But I always find a way to have the best stuff in return, you know?" Gregor coughs, whether or not he needed to is unclear. "So let's not worry about the rats and who I'm buying from or selling to. I'm more that capable of gutting them myself, you know?" Now it's his turn to wave at the corpse. "Now, let's talk about your goods," Zeb says, chuckling. "Ticks and Glocks sound good to me, Toyman," Big Sven replies as he walks in. "I need guns, and you have guns." >>WELL YES I DO<<< "Not much of a tea drinker, though. Hope you're not offended. Anyway, I was hoping I could get five, six pistols, maybe a rifle or two. You got?" Big Sven seems rather well put together today, his last deal probably went all right... The Thick just rustles back, Dick, just a breeze and the leaves for your troubles. And then a voice calls back, sounding like deeper into the forest than you thought. Good thing that Conch gets attention. "How do I goddamn know you're not just gonna smoke me?" It's hard to hear him over the breeze and bikes, but that's definitely Blonde Josh. Something else about Mario floats in, but it's too faint to make out. "...twenty-eight, five, eight, zero, two, one, fifty-four," you hear the count finish, Sethro. It's not written anywhere, but that's what today's numbers were, weren't they? The morning has gone from bad to worse, as in your door, counting your numbers, is Badman in his never-seasonable coat and hat. And he is, of course, leveling a speargun at you.
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Apr 3, 2014 23:12
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Not a manipulate, you have no leverage
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Apr 4, 2014 03:38
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Sethro, Badman continues to recite the day's numbers, from "seven" through "four" and hitting every one of them, just as you would have. His speargun tracks from your chest to your foot as you move for the crowbar, and you can just make out the tensing of his arm as he pulls the trigger...What do you do? Whatever it is, you're acting under fire! Ebbs, Market's busy this morning. Doesn't seem like the place ever sleeps, one of the few places on the Island that can truly claim that. All sorts of things are on display for sale or trade from guns and knives to pants and shirts to men and women to roots and meats. And spices, too, after you find the right stall. But finding the right flavorings for food might be a little more difficult than you think. After all, any old rear end in a top hat can evaporate for some salt, can't they? Just how much are you willing to pay? When you make it known you want a thing and are willing to drop jingle to speed it on its way, roll+barter spent...(pg 90) "Dealing, dealing, dealing, Sansa Merci," Zeb replies. "I like what you're thinking, you know. But we can make a better agreement than that. Better than that weirdo ever could. Best deals on the island. That's why I'm still in business, you know. Among other reasons." Your conversation is interrupted by one of your gang checking in. "Coming in from off watch, Queen," Nimzovitch says. "Nothing too out of the ordinary, J.L's got his coffee and is ready to go. I'm gonna get my eats and my sleeps now," and keeps on walking. He mutters something else to himself as he spots the corpse, but probably rightly figures you've got it under control. Besides, he's off shift now anyway. "So let's do this," Zeb continues, not missing a beat. "I get the drugs. You get whatever weapons are already on the thing. I get the top piece of armor, you get the rest. I got a feeling here, so let's say I get top dibs on all the clothes and paper on the ship. In return, I come back in a week with...let's say a nice pistol, all prestige-like, for you. Big-rear end rifle for your top shot, wasn't that Bagel? I'll make sure I get something that fits her real nice, you know, but I'm gonna have to spend some time with her to figure that out, you know. I'll get you some helmets, too." "So's my piss, Dick, golden like the sun," Blonde Josh shouts back. "But I trust you, more than I trust some of y'all. So I know Mario's got that revolver. I wanna hear six shots in the dirt, and then he alone can come fetch me and Fabio." Of course. Disarm the bloodthirstiest and everything else should be okay, right? Then again, it's not like he's got a whole lot of leverage. Mario looks pissed. What do you do?
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Apr 5, 2014 02:43
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"You know I know that, Sansa, you know?" Zeb shoots back. "That's why I didn't tell you I was getting you smigs and ammo crates, you don't need them. But I know you don't have a true sniper rifle, and I've seen the way you look at Dougie O'Malley's gun, you know? I promise I can get you a nicer one. So I'm keeping the top paper...and what's more in demand here, shirts? You get the shirts, you know?" Zeb steps closer, drops his voice. "Where there's brain-fryers, there's usually the nice relaxers too. I'll throw them into your, you know, private take. If I find 'em, you know." He steps back to his previous spot, leaving only his messy footprints in the sand. "Deal?"
Captain Foo fucked around with this message at 05:00 on Apr 5, 2014 |
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Apr 5, 2014 04:49
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Big Sven smiles. "We go through this every time, Toyman. I can't tell you why I ask for things, it's bad for my business." He starts opening his bag, picking through. "So let's talk price." The tall trader pulls out a large silk scarf, with intricate patterning. It's very slightly torn on one side, but otherwise looks to be in strangely excellent condition. "Thought you might like this," Big Sven offers with sincerity. Ebbs, MacElhoe sells you the spices without too much hassle, once you find him, but something in his expression seems apologetic. As it turns out, he might have known something about the Market that you didn't. No more than a minute after you stash the small jar in your pack, a big hand reaches and grabs your shoulder from behind. "What kind of fuckin' rear end in a top hat can drop that many marketcoins on something that fuckin' useless?" Her grip is strong, and she starts to spin you around. "The kind of rear end in a top hat that's gonna give me mine, hm?" "Forty-three, twelve, zero, zero, thirteen," Badman continues. Sethro, in unison no less. That's it, that's the whole list. The bolt clatters along the concrete floor before embedding itself in the wall, through a shelf. The line on the speargun goes taut, "twenty-eight, forty-nine," and then slack as the speargun clatters to the ground. "Fifty-two," the two of you conclude. "Agreed," Badman says with a nod, and then turns on his heel and begins to leave. Zeb takes his leave quickly, heading off towards the wreck. "Queen," Gregor pipes up, "what's going on here? You almost never do business before an hour after sunup, and this wreck ain't that special." Dick - while others than just Mario disagree with you, after a bit of grumbling they don't say much. Graham keeps a whiteknuckled grip on his shotgun, for sure. There's some cursing and shouting and rustling in the bush after Mario disappears into the Thick in the direction of Blonde Josh, but it only takes a few minutes. Tension rises, as it's wont to do in the face of the unknown. Two, three, four minutes pass. Five, six, and in the sixth, Blonde Josh, Fabio, and Mario emerge. Fabio's up on Blonde Josh's shoulders, blindfolded with a bandana and mumbling. Mario's staring daggers at you, Dick, the reason for which is obvious. Blonde Josh has a gun to his spine, slowly pushing him through the woods. Chloe asks, incredulously, what everyone's thinking. "What the actual gently caress?"
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Apr 8, 2014 00:01
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"You fret a lot, Queen," Gregor replies, laconically. "Welllllll, hey hey hey my man my man Sethro, what's good? Tunin' in, tunin' up, yeah I'm liking it, man. You hear about the jaguar, Sethro? Aw yeah, I gotta tell you this one. So of course, this jaguar's sitting in a tree, right. Jaguars do that, man. One of the lady's men, you know the lady, right? Not gonna get distracted though, man, this jaguar jumps down from the tree, just pounces on that poor guy. Jaguar don't know any better, that's just what jaguars do. Wrong, jaguar has the guy dead to rights, but the cat lets him up, lets him stagger around. Just to see what he'll do, man. Just to see what he'll do. Weird story, huh man? Anyway, Sethro, you got a story, now you gotta give a story, you know how it works. Hmm...got it. Miller's Hill's on fire, whatcha know about it?"
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Apr 8, 2014 04:46
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Ebbs, you size up the situation rapidly. You're pretty good at that, most of the time. It's Puck, staring at you. Not sneering, not raging, mostly cross, really. She's definitely the immediate threat, but her gang could descend at any time, and that's when the trouble starts. If think you can get away from her and her crew, your best option would probably be to work your way closer to the Wrecks and Wracks. Closer you get to the heart of a community, the less they suffer other gangs. And Sansa Merci's gang is the biggest of them all. Sansa, the market is bustling already this morning. Arguments and haggling, re-selling and re-buying, profiteering and honest trade. You get a cut of it all. Ebbs might have been here to buy spices, but something tells me that's not why you came down. What's got your attention? Sethro, Dick - I'm still working on your piece. Sorry to keep you waiting.
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Apr 10, 2014 04:43
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Smoke rises from the hill. Wisps at the start, then clouds, then columns. It's visible to anyone that cares to look towards Miller's Hill. If there were any trees there, they'd be nothing but fuel now. Except, of course, that the trees in that area of the forest were cleared years ago, replaced by a little settlement. Can't say too many good things about the future of that settlement. The roar of the fire intensifies as a light wind rolls in from the ever-present sea, and the motorcycles sound like a quietly purring cat in comparison. Sethro, however, arrives on foot. What's he carrying to this little adventure? What do you see on him, Dick? Maybe he's got the answers. Maybe you do. Maybe no one does, maybe whoever knows is in the inferno; maybe they're out in the world. Things will never be the same on Miller's Hill, that's for sure. Sethro, how's Dick's gang reacting? To the fire, to you? Standing on the edge of hell can't be pleasant for anyone, though it's better than being inside, surely. "Look, Toyman," Big Sven says, friendly demeanor fading quickly, "if I was here to sell guns, I'd be selling guns. I'm here to get guns. You getting crazier? I ask to get guns, and you counter with 'no, give me guns.' Even Dumb Fabio knows that's not how these things work." Big Sven looks up at the skylight, and puts some scratched sunglasses on. >>>HMMM<<<
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Apr 11, 2014 04:18
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No. SBF is for inflicting violence without caring what happens to yourself. Going Aggro is for getting your way with violence backing it up.
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Apr 11, 2014 23:01
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Sure thing. Update tomorrow.
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Apr 13, 2014 01:59
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"I don't have a loving clue who Jetsam Jack is," Puck spits, "and you look just like a rich man who's about to get a lot poorer." She uncorks a fist at you, Ebbs, and you get your hands up, fire back a punch of your own. But then she responds with another, and another. Puck doesn't command the respect of her gang for nothing, does she? The brawl goes back and forth, fairly even. But then there's footsteps. Remember, Puck's a gang leader, and where there's a leader, there's a gang. Toyman, shades are shades, except when they aren't. These shades, they were a status symbol once. Perhaps they can be again, if the right sale is made and the right person owns them. Flip side, right now they're worth whatever you can buy them for. "Glad you're coming around, man. But I need five minimum for that." Big Sven, he's good. He sees your eyes change focus, and he figures you're not looking to admire your own reflection in his glasses. "Ah, you want these," he says, touching them. >>>PERCEPTIVE<<< "Well that'd be those two semi-automatic rifles I need, right?" So there's there's the deal, five handguns and two rifles for an Aloha'd scarf and sunglasses that could make a king or a scrap heap. Whether or not your pack accepts your order to follow Sethro's lead or they want to save their own poo poo, Dick, your guys head in. Noodles and Boots fail to escape Sethro's eye and fall in line. Sethro, as your take your role at the head of Dick's advance party, what do you find? Dick, Chloe asks "are you really trusting that weirdo?" Graham points his gun and sweats. From the inferno and probably the nerves. It's clear he's not really on board with sticking around much. How long's he been around, Dick? Sansa Merci, the Market is bustling, but one deal gone bad stands out in particular. A man and a woman, boxing and grappling. Or honestly, it's not that precise, they're scrapping. It's getting nasty, and a circle is forming in the dirt road that makes the main street of the Market. The Market is an interesting annex to the Wrecks and Wracks. It's yours but not. Adjacent to your territory, but it isn't yours. You've gotten your cut established, as the dominant power in the area, but that's the rub. In the area. Not right here, not right now, and you can tell. There's half a dozen people moving through the crowds, definitely organized. And it's they who hold the cards right now, not you.
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Apr 14, 2014 01:33
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there is now  roll +0 on the first harm chart
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Apr 15, 2014 03:48
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update tonight. Been away for the first couple of nights of Passover 
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Apr 16, 2014 13:22
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Puck shoves Ebbs off and throws her hands down as you make your threats, Sansa "You don't own this joint, Sansa," she says. "Neither do you," a voice calls from the circle. Kid's got gumption. He doesn't immediately get socked by the creeping gang, though. Maybe they aren't standing near him. "But at least I know it," Puck shouts back for both his benefit and yours, Sansa. Ebbs, you got anything else to say? Puck seems like she's willing to let you two shout at each other for now, but she's not exactly walking away, either. "Then what's the point, Dick?" Chloe's got a point. "If you don't trust him, what exactly are we doing here waiting for him? Wasting time we could either be bailing people out or getting the gently caress out." Everyone's sweating, the heat is pretty intense. Thankfully, wind hasn't shifted yet. "I say we get the gently caress out," Graham says. His trigger discipline is good, but the rest of his discipline is fading. Does he have a reason that fire in particular might freak him? He got shot, not burned. Sethro, Boots locks eyes with you, telling you not to fuckin' forget your deal, and makes a probably-stupid run for the phone shell, and leaves the building with a roll just as it collapses. He's probably swearing up a storm, but you can't tell. Somewhere in your coughing fits, you got disoriented. Though you are heading down the hill, you're also now inside another shack, which just flashed over. What's here? Also, you're Acting Under Fire. Literally!
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Apr 16, 2014 23:34
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Big Sven just looks at you, Toyman. "C'mon, man, you know what I mean." Then he picks up the actual weapons, function checks them, and puts them in his various bags and holsters. One in particular, the Beretta, he loads and charges before holstering. "A couple more and we're good and I'm out of your hair, yeah?" Dick, maybe it's your execution of Blonde Josh, maybe it's people getting over the shock of the inferno taking over the hill, but they start to move. Graham a little slowly, but he goes just as well. Maybe you'll round up a few more folks, a bit more gear. But tell me, who or what are you going after? And how do you react to the gently caress-off explosion at the other side of the hill? Sethro, good thing you left when you did or there might not be much left of you, or the girl. As it is, you're both messes. The shack and ammo are all up in shards and smoke, save for what little she got. After a moment or three of unconsciousness, you come to your senses. How are you holding up? Roll +armor on the Seriously Scary poo poo table. Puck turns more directly towards you, Sansa. "Talk dirty to me, bitch. You're not in charge here, not even if you think you are. This ain't the Wrecks and Wracks, as much as you'd like it to be." She breathes sharply out of her nose, a contemptuous snort. "You're so bloodthirsty I can't even believe it. If I wanted to shank this fool and be done with it," Puck continues, gesturing condescendingly towards you, Ebbs, "I'd have done that. No, I'm just trying to build a little scratch for me and my crew, best way I know how. We're not so different, Sansa, though I know you want to believe you're all high and mighty and better than us just because you've got your fatigues and your shacks and your ships." Puck's finger points sharply at you, Sansa, and Gregor, and then behind you, to the Wrecks and Wracks in the distance. "All that's your strength, but it's your weakness, too." At this point, you notice that you don't see her gang members infiltrating the crowds anymore.
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Apr 19, 2014 04:04
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Can't read the same sitch twice. e-- cool. Captain Foo fucked around with this message at 04:27 on Apr 19, 2014 |
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Apr 19, 2014 04:22
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I'm feeling a little under the weather and have a bunch of stuff coming up over the next couple days. Here's hoping for an update tomorrow.
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Apr 20, 2014 03:31
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Ebbs, Puck turns suddenly and punches you in the nose, sending you sprawling again. Murmurs bubble up from the crowd, but quickly fade away again. She's not really concerned with you, anymore. Makes sense, really. She's clearly not getting the jingle or the spice off you right now; she might as well deal with Sansa. And Sansa, you realize that whatever she was originally doing, now she intends to cut you down to size. The shopkeepers and dealers at the Market might be dealing with the violence that Puck's bringing, but it seems like it's might be preferable to paying you off every week. Maybe Puck figures herself the hero of the Market, maybe she's just exploiting the ambient feeling. Either way, Gregor sees your signal and brings his gun from his back to a high ready. At this point, he staggers forward, then collapses, knife sticking straight out of his back. Blood leaks onto the ground. He might not be dead, but he's definitely out. No one moves. Dick, first and foremost you need to be on the lookout for the fire jumping around, the breeze is up and there are sparks flying. Danny Boy's digout still has a roof, ya know? But speaking of, that roof is probably the best way in. If you tear it up, you won't have to go to the main tunnel. Tunnel entrance is closer to the inferno, probably closer than you want to be. But then you'll have to jump down. Choices. You're Acting Under Fire either way, but remember you get +1. Sethro, somehow you wake up, just as the woman slings you off her shoulders onto a cot. She's a mess, but so are you. "Saved my life, so I figured I'd do the same for you," she says. "I'm Bean," she says with a genuine smile as blood drips from her eyebrow to her chin. While you find your voice, you pat around for your gear...camcorder's gone.
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Apr 20, 2014 20:43
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The Market reels, but Sansa's made her point. Puck lays in the dirt for a few moments, sprawled out twisted on the ground, before slowly picking herself up. She starts dusting herself off, before giving up that idea and starts leaving, along with the rest of the crowd, and her gang. Gregor, of course, doesn't leave, or really even pick himself up. As you collapse, Sansa, and Ebbs negotiates his picking you up, you both notice that Puck turns to sneer back. Spunky girl, but then she sees the two of you looking at her and takes off. There's something to remember about her, but she's just a small cat in a big jungle, for now. Ebbs, you're covered in blood. Yours, Sansa's, Gregor's. Sansa's at least mostly capable of walking on her own, but Gregor's out on his feet and it takes all of your strength to bring the top two people in the Wrecks and Wracks 'organization' home. All in a day's work? Sun hasn't even gotten all the way overhead, yet. "Sethro? That's the number guy's name? That's you?" Bean seems excited, before wincing herself. "'cuse me, guess that answers your question." She points with a clearly injured arm across to the corner of the room, where a small crank-powered radio sits, along with a couple of small hand tools. "Those numbers," she says earnestly, "I dunno what it is. Lots of people don't seem to really get it. I think I get it." Her face turns serious again. "But yeah, saved each other's life. You tackled us out of the way of the explosion, well me really. You ate a lot of it. I came to and got us here. I live here sometimes, yeah. Got a lot a little places here and there." Bean smiles again. "Think you can walk? No rush, but we both need a doc, you probably more than me. Know one up in the Respite, but he ain't free." Dick, easy in, right? Grab some swag up, look around. I know you're not usually lookin' for this sort of thing, but Danny Boy's actually got himself a picture developed of...you. But there's no time to speculate as the tunnel fire starts catching bigger. Gotta go go go go. And on your way out, some of your poo poo catches fire. Which do you save - the power tools that you put so much effort into saving, or whatever gear you were already carrying? >>>OVER THE MOUNTAIN AND DOWN IN THE VALLEY LIVES A FORMER TALKSHOW HOST<<< Toyman, an amusing fog of plastic, gunfire, and roses wafts over you and fills up your home, perhaps rising right out of the skylight as a column of thought visible to anyone in the area. Or maybe it doesn't, who knows. >>>A QUEEN'S SACRIFICE CAN LEAD TO TREASURE - AREN'T YOU FAMILIAR WITH THE IMMORTAL GAME?<<< But within it, you find yourself floating, floating, falling as a shiny raindrop, waiting to be collected in a barrel. >>>YOU SHOULD BE, BUT FOR NOW DUCATS WOULD BE...NICE<<< So yeah, that was a hell of a morning, wasn't it? --MC So, Session 1 is over. Do your Hx, and let me know what timeframe you'd like to let lapse before we pick back up: half a day, a week, a month, or something else entirely. There will be some questions for you to consider as well.
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Apr 26, 2014 01:20
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Toyman, you out there?
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Apr 30, 2014 23:16
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Hm, guess he wasn't as important as we thought he might have been. Island's weird that way. --MC The rest of you, a few questions and statements for your consideration. Sansa and Sethro, turns out the best doc around is well, the best doc around, and he's in O'Malley's Respite. The both of you ended up under the care of the DZA, as he's called. Bean didn't like being around when Sansa was. Sethro, seems like she stuck around while you were gettin' stitches and pills more than she needed to be. Dick, who'd Big Sven sell to? Directly to the market, or to Puck? And how do you know? Ebbs, how'd you leverage taking care of the Queen into good standing in the Wrecks and Wracks, and who there might have their loyalty shifting a bit? Dick, Miller's Hill is basically ash. You and your gang are on the road again. Gregor didn't recover, he died a few days ago. Bean's definitely healed up just fine, Sethro. Interview went well. She came dressed a little differently, form-fitting black top, new gun. Still, she got the cargo pants instead of those overalls. Said the new duds were some sort of armour, real comfortable. Evasive otherwise. Looks...good. Implied she might want to come back. How do you feel about that? Sansa, Zeb's looking for his payoff, starting to get antsy. Yeah, you've been laid up, but a deal's a deal. Ebbs, you getting in the middle of this? Danny Boy's pretty grateful you tried to save his poo poo. All he's got now is a multitool and a camera. And a bike, of course. Sethro, you work on any of Dick's bikes? Sansa, did Chloe come see you? Know you've got some history and word travels fast, but you never know how things go on the Island. You never know how things go on the Island.
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May 2, 2014 22:35
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Sansa and ebbs, I need your responses and per session rolls, and we'll start the next session soon.
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May 5, 2014 18:47
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Gregor's dead.
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May 5, 2014 20:15
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Should be an update tomorrow. In the meantime, here's the sitch.pre:Places ------ Gray Ferry -Independent settlement Market -Find drat near anything here -If you're slick enough -Sansa "protects" this place -But they're chafing -And Puck might be their champion Miller's Hill -Dick, but probably not anymore -Mostly burnt to the loving ground North Shores -Weird Statues -Ship Graveyard -Stranded Reef O'Malley's Respite -Bordertown between shores and forest Captain Foo fucked around with this message at 03:41 on May 9, 2014 |
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May 7, 2014 05:29
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Session 2 begins, unlike last time, at dusk. The day has been unusually humid, but the rain falls as the sun does, bringing a cool relief to the Island. The still-smoldering remains of Miller's Hill sizzle and steam, if anyone's still there to hear or see. Tents find their holes, the dry dirt turns to mud. Rain. Not out of the blue, no, but it doesn't rain here often. This evening, it is. This evening, Dick's up in the North Shores. Not really where you were hoping to go, there's not a ton here. But Puck's crew, well, they had a bit more to say about O'Malley's Respite than you anticipated, huh. Engines idle. Glen's been shot, though not bad. Not as bad as Noodles. Chloe's on edge, sweating, nervous. Graham's white-knuckle as always. Mario's still angry about what happened in the Thick, angry about backing down from the Respite, just angry (but he's probably in the his most normal state of mind out of anyone). Danny Boy's been very quiet, unenthused. Everyone's fuckin' unhappy. And now here you are, on the North Shores, together with the weird obelisks and statues...and the grumbling. What do you do? Sethro, Bean gets up, straps her gun back on, and sighs. She has to go, she explains. Work. Real work. No, she says, she doesn't really know what it is. Puck's business. Probably less-than-pleasant work. She smiles, that's not why she's annoyed. She'd rather stay. But you can't ignore Puck, that's how life is - matter of fact. Things were happening. Four Nine Two. She looks at you again, gets a mischievous grin. "I bet Puck would be down with someone with your savvy, Sethro," Bean invites. What do you do? Ebbs, you proved your worth to some of those in the Wrecks and Wracks, taking care of Sansa Merci as much as she'd let you, and digging up some old useful poo poo where the boats had already been left for the gulls. Some aren't having it so well, figuring who the gently caress are you to swoop in and take charge. Either way, Sansa's paying you decently, you haven't been here long enough to take work like this on your own buy-in of what she's got going on. Zeb's been mostly good on his deal, bringing Bagel's rifle and your new pistol. Surprisingly, he explained, he found extra drugs. Of course, this had to be after Chloe drove by, but he found them. He also said he made a decision based on what he found; you were all out of it and Ebbs didn't know about the terms. Kept a few of the shirts, they were real interesting, thought you might really dig a thing he found in the wrecks. Easier to sell off the shirts to other people. But that was over the past few days, and Zeb's disappeared again. He'll be back soon enough, it's too profitable not to. Sansa, though, as you and Ebbs sit in the tent discussing business, whatever it may be, Nimzovitch enters, all beaten to hell. That afternoon's tax trip the Market went...poorly. What do you do?
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May 8, 2014 23:14
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The gods, the Gods, are on the beach, were on the beach, are worshiped on the beach, by you? or by those who left them, by those who built them, by nobody at loving all and they're just rocks? maybe it's really raining fire, a firestorm of hate consuming the Island, maybe that's what happened to Miller's Hill but that's no use as an answer is it? fire doesn't fall from the sky you've been here long enough and there's people that've been here longer and nobody's ever seen that poo poo so it makes no sense for it to happen now, and so what else could burn the fire? gently caress you you're not finding out the gods say though it's what's consuming you and your gang, the gods, should they exist at all? are capricious but you know that already so instead your thoughts leap unbidden from the fire of consumption to the fire of passion drat hell that wasn't what you wanted but your lover dances across your mind, like they had so many times before, the gods awaken? or awaken in you? and they ask you to describe your lover, they ask your heart and your brain, maybe they will provide you with answers about the fire you want to know about if you'll answer theirs, maybe? if you're lucky and you could use some luck, nobody would consider you lucky these days, or maybe someone would? the firestorm swirls and while the gods know what a firestorm is they don't know what you think a firestorm is, maybe tell them how it doesn't char or how clear and blinding it is? the firestorm, it IS real, it is NOT real, it IS and will be and has been, and people dip in and out, or do they get stuck? maybe you'll never know, get hosed, the gods don't care, or maybe they do? Dick, when you get control of yourself again, it's been a little while. Rain's still raining, it's a little darker. More importantly, Black Dave's doing his best on the wounded, but there might be more. Mario's roasting his catch - maybe it was longer than you thought? Someone's arguing with him about shares of food, guns are drawn. Boots and Jin and Mario are waving pistols and rifles, shouting. Answer the Maelstrom's questions, and then what do you do?
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May 10, 2014 03:20
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Ebbs, you think you can go back home, but how's all your poo poo staying safe?
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May 10, 2014 23:12
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Sethro, what do you know? You are the one three seven information hub of the Island if 38 anyone can parse the things you spew and if you know what you're talking about with those numbers (maybe you do, maybe you don't but Bean thinks you do, and she thinks she might) point being I don't want to tell you what to think but unless you spend a lot of time at the Market or the Respite without Bean, she's your main source of hard info about Puck. And I know you haven't made the trip to W&W in the past week. So I don't know what Sethro knows or thinks, but I know what side of the story he has. --MC "Puck got no time to dance around here," Bean says ominously before slinking out into the dusk. "Last call," she half says, half implies with a glint of her eyes. You can catch her if you want, but otherwise, there's storm falling in the night to deal with. Lightning crashes.
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May 11, 2014 07:37
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What actual Move are you invoking here?
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May 11, 2014 23:13
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Sansa Merci, tell me who your vanguard is, tell me who your rearguard is. Or are you pushing all in, and not leaving anyone at the fences?
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May 11, 2014 23:30
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And the rain falls across the ocean, Dick, a light sea breeze pushing the cool rain into your face as the small, hungry waves slosh into the shore a few yards away. The squabble dies down, for now. You've still got their attention and respect. And hers, at least until you don't. The crackle of the fire gives way to the hiss of rain, and then the sizzle of piss on the fire, and finally it crumbles and dies, buried under a load of sand. Fitting, really. Many things have died in the sand, and only few get deliberately buried. Many more would die and be buried, forgotten. The Island erases all, in the end. Or does it? Maybe the gods remember, in their firestorm, watching, waiting. But thoughts of that are interrupted by the rev of engines. Chloe's raring to go. So's the rest of them boys and girls. What fuels them may not be clear now, but your command is issued and will be followed. Drive south, along the east. See what you find. Maybe shelter? Ain't no rest for the wicked. Certainly no rest for Sethro. Maybe he's not wicked. Maybe he is. Maybe wicked don't mean a drat thing on the Island. As it is, savvyhead, you're having an impromptu job interview. Bean brought you along, gambling that Puck would find a use for you. Bean doesn't say much, probably not much of a gamble. Puck seems to think pretty highly of your skills, or what she's been told of them. She eyes you up and down, behind one scarred eye and the cloak and arms of a growing baroness. She's dangerous. She wants to know if you are. You're in the secret dug-out basement of one of the many nondescript shacks in the Respite. Puck knows you carry a crowbar. Are you gonna use it? She gestures to the door, Vince opens it and Bick throws down a bound-up prisoner. Bean explains the situation. Jody was caught selling some of the gang's ammo stash. That'd be bad enough, but she was caught selling to a Dubber, as Puck calls them. She draws her weapon, as do Vince, Bick, and Bean. But they stay pointed at the floor. Puck calls to you, Sethro. You've got a weapon, use it. Jody isn't leaving here alive. You can. The more literate of the Wrecks and Wracks contingent might recall the lost words of an old poet, from before. "Riders on the Storm," the poem begins. And while there may be more, that is all Sansa Merci, Queen of the Wrecks and Wracks needs to know. Bran and Karlie leading the left column. D-Day on the right. Sansa, you yourself and Ebbs lead from the front and center. Everyone's strapped to the gills. Whatever arms, knives, bullets, grenades, whatever you've got, bring it. The Market dared stand, and the Market would be pacified. Your crew marches, Sansa, out of sync but of similar mind. This is the closest thing to an army that exists on the Island. Out past the palisade, Coffin coughs a salute as he and his team will hold back whatever comes to challenge. If anything. Coffin might get bored, and that's no good either. A couple of lewd songs are sung. Down the road. Often dusty, tonight it's a bit sticky, muddy. No stealth here. The entrance to the Market approaches, around a bend. Something's off. The main archway, a minor detail built of old wood, is blocked. Several trucks block the way. And then the blinding floodlights bang on. Someone's waiting for you, Sansa...What do you do?
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May 13, 2014 04:52
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I found this. Click for huge. --MC
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May 13, 2014 23:00
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Puck waves a hand towards Bick, who was stepping to. He relaxes. Bean's stonefaced. Puck speaks. "Call it Quality Assurance, Sethro. I know what you do. Don't know how you do it, don't really care." She shrugs. "I'm not telling you to lead a raid. I wouldn't do that, it's not useful in any way." Puck breathes in, breathes out. "I'm telling you to execute a prisoner of mine." A questioning look crosses her face. "Ours." Vince scratches his neck. "Not 'cher road, Sansa," a voice calls out from behind the lights. "Turn around. You don't own this road, you don't own this market." The lights are nearly blinding, but through the harsh halogen and dripping rain, you can see a flicker of movement behind the trucks. One shakes, looks like at least one fighter's mounting up. But if there's anyone still driving, well, you can blast them easy. "All you had to do was get the hint. This island isn't yours. It's all of ours." A rumbling is heard from the rest of the force, sounds like at least this group is on the same page. "And the merchants here ain't paying you no more, we'll take care of our own." She sounds confident. You're hard, Sansa, but she's not scared of you, despite your reputation. Or maybe she doesn't know it, but that seems unlikely. "If you want to talk, my name's Sally Sledge. You want to fight, I got - we got - no fucks to give." Sansa, though, what you need to consider is that this...whatever this is at the market arch, might not be the whole story of tonight. Ebbs, maybe the light catches you wrong, or your eyes were too dark adjusted. You're basically blinded, not how you want to be in what seems likely to be a mess. You'll be Acting Under Fire to do anything but talk.
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May 16, 2014 00:01
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Bean draws another pistol from somewhere, flips it around. Holds it out, grip towards you, Sethro. "You can shoot her if you want," she offers, not expecting you to take her up on it. The three other gang members watch with tense interest.
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May 16, 2014 14:12
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7-9 isn't a miss, but here's your bargain. You can get into position to help Sansa on her next roll, or you can get into position to stay safe and plan your next move.
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May 16, 2014 22:24
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Sethro, roll Act Under Fire.
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May 18, 2014 03:53
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Puck sighs, almost groans, then waves a hand to Vince. Jody strains for the first time since she got thrown down the stairs, pulling against her binds and gnawing at the gag. Then she stops, as a few of thiwps from Vince's suppressed gun. Her corpse silently bleeds into the dirt floor as a radio crackles at Puck's hip. "Shots fi--" and then it cuts out. "Explosions. They're here, went from zero to wacknut in no time at all." A radio? Bean winks. But that meant something, obviously, as the Bick and Vince head up the stairs rapidly. Bean spins and holsters her pistols, deliberately not looking at you, Sethro. Then she follows up the stairs, stepping over Jody's body. Puck leaves last. She's almost stepping onto the stairs before looking back. Almost as an afterthought, she turns back. Her gun is not suppressed, and then you're bleeding with your ears ringing. But she didn't stay to finish the job, that's gotta be a plus. Roll +armor on the Something That Could Kill You table. And the Market Arch turns into a battle site almost instantly. Sansa, your aim is true and you end Ramos, a bullet right between his eyes. That's the least of the problems at the trucks, as the Molotov cocktail that J.L. tossed consumes another. Watson bails out of his truck, right before Ivan guns him right down. Then the technical's fuel catches and the thing goes up like a torch, smoke quickly filling the air. A few more of your crew fall, Sansa; Broadside and Pajack are torn to shreds by automatic fire. But D-Day gets to her target, and holy poo poo that truck's gone. Everyone's deaf for a few moments, in the Market del Omar dies messily, torn basically in half by shrapnel from whatever D-Day did. Bran's a whirlwind, in a minute's time he's gutted Ella and Collins. Bullets fly, and even Ebbs drops a combatant, ventilating Emmack with his 9. Poor bastard's vest didn't help him at all. He probably bought it at the Market. Oh well. Bullets and grenades fly for minutes. The constant chatter of supersonic cracks and small explosions is impressive, thrilling. Sally Sledge, from somewhere, calls from a bullhorn to the Market defense force. "Yeah, they're bringing the heat. Don't let up n--" and she's cut off by an another explosion. D-Day's having herself a day. Night. Whatever. The Wrecks and Wracks crew is pushing the line, with the hulks of the blocking trucks smoking. Only a couple still stand, one light still flickers. Eerie shadows fall over Sansa and Ebbs, leading from the front and center, bullets flying. But Ebbs looks vulnerable... Elsewhere, Dick's gang rides down the Northeastern coast, tired and hungry (though less hungry than before). In the distance, Dick, you can see the smoke and lights of the fire and fight. Looks like it's coming from the Market, or maybe even the Wrecks and Wracks. A group of a couple of your gang, Lara and John Henry and Noodles speed to the front before spinning their bikes, forcing the convoy to a halt. Noodles is up and speaking while John Henry struggles with his helmet. Lara just stares, sweetly, dangerously. Noodles says what possibly more are thinking - "Just what the gently caress are we riding into now? A war? We're not outfit for this, god drat."
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May 20, 2014 00:48
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What are you seizing? This is one of those times subtleties matter. Are you trying to get in her face? That's Act Under Fire or a Help for Sansa. Are you trying to take control of the situation? That's Seize By Force or AUF depending on your way of going about it. Neither you nor Sansa can directly, intentionally act directly on Sally Sledge right now, you don't know where she is. Captain Foo fucked around with this message at 19:25 on May 20, 2014 |
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May 20, 2014 19:21
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| # ¿ Apr 27, 2024 17:00 |
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The fog of war is thick. Rain and ash fall on Sansa and Ebbs, pressing their way to Sally Sledge. Charlie, a merchant, fires a shot from his old pistol. Flies right over your head, Ebbs. Surprisingly, it pops Otis right in his head just as he's gutting Memphis. Bran stomps a mudhole into a couple of fighters who'll probably never get identified as D-Day blows another somethingup. Problem with that explosion, though, it's way too close. Thankfully, Sansa, Ebbs is between you and the blast, so he takes the worst of it. Ebbs, as the blast wave slams into you, you do notice that the two of you have spotted Sally Sledge, shouting orders and shooting W&Wers. Roll +armor on poo poo That Could Kill You. Sansa, Sally's doing both with equal effect, equal brutal effect. She drops two of your crew, Nine-Eleven and Zimmer with two shots each. The shock of D-Day's blast is attenuated by Ebbs's body, but getting blown up still fuckin' sucks, you know? You take a-1 forward. The blast gets Sally Sledge's attention, and she spots you. However, you can see her pull the trigger to no effect. She's either going to have to switch to that slung shotgun or reload. You, on the other hand, have a nearly fully pistol. What do you do? Sethro, you come to on the floor a few minutes later, staring into the dead eyes of Jody. At least you're awake, though it's going to be hard to piece together just what happened here tonight, if you ever do. Must have hit your head. It's hard to push yourself back up, and you leave a puddle in the dirt. You're a mess. Crowbar's here for the picking up, if you want it. What a lovely night. At least, you think it's probably still night. gently caress, did that hurt. What do you do? Dick, your gang is clearly not happy about pressing an attack right now. That being said, your gang is clearly not happy with sitting around in the rain watching their dicks shrivel up and their tits hang low. Whatever decision you make, it's going to be fuckin' unpopular, and you're just gonna have to deal with that. Moving the gently caress on, it seems you have two options. If you appeal to your gang's brutal, wild side, you'll have the best luck driving right into the battle and raising all sorts of hell. poo poo's on fire and exploding, bullets flying and knives whipping. Get crazy, get weird, get nasty, and you might just score yourself some scrap. You go for the appeal to calculated, concentrated, discipline and goals, trying to go right up the Wrecks and Wracks' half-defended rear end in a top hat might be better. While you never know who they've got back there, you know the Queen herself won't have deigned to stay, and that's a huge advantage in and of itself. poo poo's quiet(ish) and you'll have the cover of falling night, though motors are loud. You get through their palisade, past their towers, and there's definite loot there, but then you're in the teeth of the enemy should the vanguard return. What do you do, Dick? You and your gang are almost out of gas, literally and figuratively. No more time to waste.
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May 22, 2014 03:01
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