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  • Locked thread
QuantumNinja
Mar 8, 2013

Trust me.
I pretend to be a ninja.
Feeling sick, post tomorrow. Sorry yall.

Alien Rope Burn posted:

Sure! Wait, what am I rolling?

You had said:

No lies, but she'll Give Them the Third Degree for 1 hold.

Where is that hold from?

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Alien Rope Burn
Dec 5, 2004

I wanna be a saikyo HERO!
I forgot to link it, sorry. :doh: But here it is.

QuantumNinja
Mar 8, 2013

Trust me.
I pretend to be a ninja.
Sorry, flu was worse than I thought.

Ashe Jones

Slight gives a shrug, then looks out at the bar, buying a round of shots for you and the AoF. "You know, just the usual. A bit of street racing if you'd like it. A few of us are making a run up the coast in the next few days to bring some drugs back. And I heard there are some middle easterners in town selling... something, but we got a strong no-involvement policy with the foreign powers. Maybe the Sharkboys are into that sort of poo poo? Why, you looking for more trouble tonight?"

Are you looking for more action with the bikers, or just a general look at their operation? What do you do?

Mary Sue Murphy

Ruiz seems annoyed with your question at first, but by the end you realize he's venting as much as anything else. "Wouldn't be the first time someone around here got strong-armed into some poo poo, you know? We got all those small-town-turned-poor problems: three different biker gangs, a ton of new skateboard punks all inspired by those drat 'Z-Boys' or whatever, and now they're trying to get that factory out in town going again, like bringing a bunch of blue-collar workers in isn't going to cause us more of a headache. If you wanna know what to watch out for, though, it's that porn-peddling shitbag Frank Lennow, peddling smut on the square. Cupid's Books or some poo poo, but there's rumors he's running a porn studio out the back."

Then he seems to realize he's talking to someone too young to really be talking to that sort of stuff about, and backpedals pretty quickly. "I mean, uh, just, you know, don't stay out late, stay out of drugs, that sort of stuff, kiddo."

What do you do?

Delfina Fantastica

You follow the two men with tolerable discretion, shadowing them all the way back to their hotel: the Hilton, as luck turns out. You catch snippets of their conversation on the walk, too. It's mostly in Arabic, but it turns out "United States" and "Carlton" stayed in English. And from the tone, it seems like they know him, or of him, and they are none-too-happy about his presence in Hill Valley.

As you follow them into the Hilton's lobby, the worst possible thing happens: you see Paulo, from the little no-tell motel, drinking at the Hilton bar, and he sees you, too. He loudly shouts your name, dragging his wife over to meet you. "Oh, Delfina! See, Juanita, I told you that she was here in town. The great Delfina Fantastica!"

And with that, the two foreigners make you, too.

What do you do?

Rocko Mississauga

It's sort of upsetting how much I'd read a Rocko book. The hold still holds in this case, I think, because it's sort of the same scene? Maybe not, but I'm willing to fudge it.

Paul laughs when you trot out the whole story. It's clear he doesn't believe you. Then again, the grin on his face and the shake of his head suggest that he's convinced that the truth must be really juicy if you were going to feed him that lie to keep it a secret. He sorta winks at you, too, before he says, "Sure, sure, government's got a girl that looks like that working for 'em. And you're there, her partner or whatever. Makes enough sense, right? Hahaha!"

After his laugh subsides, he continues, "Anyway, look, I don't want to see her around here, alright? If she's involved with the bikers, that's just bad for business. Some of them, the Fishies or whatever, keep robbing my delivery boys, and it wouldn't look right to have her around, too. Might send the wrong message. But we're still on for that catering thing, right?"

He's still solid with you, but he thinks you're joshing him. What do you do?

Dr. Maheswaran

The two of you end up at Blu's Tavern, Jack waist-deep in mid-shelf whiskey and sobbing to you about his crumbling marriage. Over the last hour, you've learned that he was meeting the men to buy ten pounds of Afghanistan-grown marijuana. He kept insisting he was a real patriot, for sure, but they had the best deal in town. When pressed for why he needed the money, his answer was a divorce lawyer. See, for all of his appearances, the woman in the bathroom wasn't his wife--it was his lover. He had met the men through the Sharkboys, and the case was supposed to contain the first delivery, but... well, that had all gone sideways, huh? And here he is, three sheets to the wind, telling you all of it.

What do you do?

Vulpes Vulpes
Apr 28, 2013

"...for you, it is all over...!"


Rocko Mississauga
Heat: 1

"As a journalist, it's your job to give people the truth. If they don't want to believe it, then that's none of your nevermind. Some people would say that's you not doing your job well enough. To that you don't say anything, you're too busy burning their house down."
-Rocko Mississauga, from
Notes From the Front (1976)

"You know it," said Rocko. Paul didn't believe him. That was okay. Paul was a solid dude and Rocko was glad to have him as a new friend. Rocko got up and bumped fists with Paul, and left him a "my man."

Well! That was that business sorted out. He had a dossier on Emmett Smith coming in the morning, had a new story to chase, got to lie to some cops, helped out the bounty huntress and made a friend. Speaking of which...

Rocko skidded his skateboard to a halt at a payphone and after chatting with the operator for a moment, found himself connected with the bartender at that biker shithole, the Hog's Trough.

"Hey brother," said Rocko. "You got a redhead there? Balcony you could do Shakespeare from? Tell her it's her Uncle Rocko calling."

Waiting a minute, Rocko took the opportunity to light a B&H 100 and marvel at it's smooth draw and classic taste. Benson and Hedges: Because the Pleasure Lasts Longer.

"Hey Red," said Rocko when she answered the phone. "I lied to the cops to muddy the trail a bit, but best keep your head relatively down and stay out of the Pizza Pow-Wow. Speaking of which, I was hanging out with my man Paul and he says the Shark-Boys are kiting his pizza deliveries. Do me a favour and keep an ear open, will you? Paul's a pretty righteous dude. Ok, kisses."

Hanging up, he pondered his options, then decided he needed a nice drink after the afternoon he'd had. Or better yet, a bad one. Mere minutes later, he found himself in Blu's Tavern, and who should be there but the Swami Sensation, Dr. M himself!

"Hey Doc," said Rocko amiably, settling in beside Doc and the guy he was talking to, an ice-cold Gettysburg in each hand and a B&H held carefully between his teeth. "What are you guys up to?"

Vulpes Vulpes fucked around with this message at 14:23 on Sep 3, 2015

Arashiofordo3
Nov 5, 2010

Warning, Internet
may prove lethal.
Ashe Jones
Heat: 2


Ashe was about to answer the question when she noticed the bar guy looking at her chest, he then gestured her over. Phone call. Though who the hell was using her tits as a description? "Uncle Rocko" it seemed.

"Sharkboys huh? Sounds like they're into some pretty twisty poo poo. Rumour on my end is that they may be involved with foreign powers... maybe. Something about a few middle easterners selling something in town. Nothing concrete yet. Thanks Uncle. Oh! Also! The next time you use my chest to pick me out from the crowd I'm going to tell mum you've been creeping again. God help you if she gets her hands on you. Love you! Bye!"

She hung up the phone, smiled ruefully and rolled her eyes. Heading back to the table.

"Sorry about that. My Uncle has been keeping track of me. Trying to keep me on the right path. Man's an arsehole, but he's family." Ashe shrugged. "Nothing like the roar of a bike to get the blood flowing. Wouldn't mind a tore of the town. Oh, but do you mind missing out the Pizza place? Something tells me I don't want to go back there soon."

Alien Rope Burn
Dec 5, 2004

I wanna be a saikyo HERO!
Mary Sue Murphy

Hunching a little into her shoulders, Mary frowns. "I'm in college, you know.", she says with the tone of somebody who's had to say that more than often enough. "Anyway, I'll... stay away from all that." Likely story, though certainly pornography didn't seem likely to tie into this incident, in any case. "Thanks!", she adds with genuine gratitude as she gets up, picking up her notebook and getting ready to make her exit. "Good luck with all this fuss, though, officer."

Spending that hold: what does Ruiz intend to do about this incident?

It's a little far to huff it over to the Doc's... and getting a taxi back and forth would be noticeable. She walks vaguely towards the Hilton. Maybe some of the others were there already? They sure could use walkie-talkies or 2-way wrist radios, she thinks, before pausing in front of the The Third Eye again. Maybe the CIA could hook them up? Still, the deepest, longest roll of her eyes ensues, but what but she then just reaches out, seeing if the business is still open.

W.T. Fits
Apr 21, 2010

Ready to Poyozo Dance all over your face.
Dr. Maheswaran
Heat: 1

The Doc sits and patiently listens as Jack spills out all the details. He mostly keep quiet, offering noncommittal sympathy for the man's current circumstances at appropriate points, while pondering if there's any connection between the men who Jack was buying from and the current situation Dr. M's group is here to investigate. Before he can offer Jack any advice, Rocko walks up and joins the men.

"Ah, Rocko, this is my new friend, Jack. He's a bit down on his luck at the moment, needs money for a divorce lawyer. Sadly, a deal he was trying to make went a bit off the rails," Dr. M pauses here to shoot Rocko a "I'll fill you in later" glance, then continues, "so now he's in a bit of a spot. I don't suppose you'd happen to know a skilled attorney who specializes in divorce and is willing to work for cheap, would you?"

occamsnailfile
Nov 4, 2007



zamtrios so lonely
Grimey Drawer
Delfina Fantastica


At first, Delfina gave a start, but that did not last long. Quickly she recovered her equilibrium and smiled broadly, giving a flex as Paulo and his wife approach. Yes, she's been made, but she'll make the most of it!

"Indeed, it is I, Delfina Fantastica! I am here to scout possible locations for an expansion of the League--" she doesn't say which one, "--But it's kind of hush-hush you see!" She makes a shushing gesture with her finger over her mouth. "It is very nice to meet you both here, and please spread the word--but softly. It is no settled thing, you see."

She gently tries to herd them back into the bar, where she will offer to buy a drink and talk to them a few minutes. This is not the age of the wireless connection so there is nobody to call, but before long she will excuse herself to continue 'making arrangements', and then head for the front desk, there to inquire about those two Libyan gentlemen staying here, they are men she needs to speak to about the promotion, would it be possible to--?

+smooth to try and get some info: 2d6+1 9

Vulpes Vulpes
Apr 28, 2013

"...for you, it is all over...!"
Rocko Mississauga
Heat: 1

"I've said it a lot, but the Streets talk, man. I don't expect straights to understand it. It's something that you need to get right down into it to hear, to feel. To feel the rattle of urethane wheels on concrete shake up through the soles of your feet and vibrate your braincase until you're at its level, until you can feel the vibe of the city and all the things that live in it. The sounds, the smells, the random words you see scrawled on walls and torn advertisements and flashing from screens of TVs in pawnshops as you flash by on a board, carving through traffic in an asphalt auto-da-fe. The streets talk, they mumble and murmer and hiss and sometimes scream. And if you've got ears to hear, you can listen."
-Rocko Mississauga, from
Notes From the Front (1976)

Rocko pondered the question.

"Not personally, no," said Rocko slowly, "but maybe I can find out..."

He asked the bartender at Blu's for a phone book, then tried to centre his mind. Normally when he had a question like this, he would strike off into the night, ride his board around town until the Streets provided an answer to his question. But, he asked himself, could he reframe his connection? A shithole dive bar, a battered public phone book, a cheap divorce lawyer...all these things fell under the aegis of the Streets. Maybe he could try communing with them in a different way...

Closing his eyes, Rocko thumbed through the Yellow Pages, feeling the worn newsprint along the pad of his thumb as he normally would feel the asphalt clattering up through his feet.

He sucked in his breath, then stabbed a finger at the paper, then looked, and winced.

Looked like the Streets didn't like being taken for granted.

Connections: 2d6+2 6

QuantumNinja
Mar 8, 2013

Trust me.
I pretend to be a ninja.
Ashe Jones

Slight agrees and leads you outside to his Harley. It was nicer than most of the bikes, chrome and shiny with a double-long fork and a seat-back for the person riding behind him. He motions to it as he lights a cigarette. It occurs to you that some less brave, or less reckless, might have asked you more about your seemingly over-protective uncle, but it didn't seem to bother Slight any. "Let's have us a ride, then, yeah? I'll drive."

I think it's more interesting to ask you to tell me about Hill Valley. There's a big list of places from the fiction, but feel free to add more as you answer the following:

Tell me something you see on the ride that makes you unhappy.

Tell me something you see on the ride that makes you think here's hope for this town yet.

Tell me What's something you see on the ride that makes you want to stop and get involved. Do you?


Mary Sue Murphy

If by incident you mean the robbery, probably not a lot. Hill Valley's not exactly the kind of place you go canvassing, because it can get you into trouble quick. Besides, Ruiz has a disagreement with Paul about something unrelated to the robbery but maybe related to his tirate about pornographic material, so it isn't like he's going to stick his neck out for not much.



The Third Eye's certainly still open, the sign illuminated and glowing next to the now-closed aerobic fitness center. While large signs plaster the windows, you can almost hear a faint voice on the other side. And, perhaps more importantly, you can smell the incense from here. From outside, you could see a small waiting room on the other side of the door and, beyond that, a curtain-filled doorway.

And then, before you can go in, two people emerge from the other side of the curtain: a young woman of seeming Romani descent, holding a pack of tarot cars, and Agent Cartlon himself.

What do you do?

Delfina

You spend enough time with Paulo and the misses (named Ximena, it turns out) that the Libyans have vanished by the time you get back. And you didn't even catch where they went, except that it was somewhere in the hotel. So then you start working the woman at the front desk, who had short-cropped blonde hair and a non-nonsense suit. "Sorry, ma'am, we can't release that sort of information. I could call their room if you'd like, tell them you're in the lobby to meet them, but otherwise I can't do much. Unless..." she says, her voice dropping to a near-whisper, "you were willing to make it worth my while. I don't really trust those two, anyway."

She's asking for a bribe. What do you do?

Rocko Mississuaga + Dr. Mahaswaran

Jack seems shocked to watch Rocko just plop down: partially because he's grossly drunk, and partially because he somehow started realizing how much he was just laying out into the open. "H-h-hey, man, I was telling you that stuff in confidence," he slurs out. "I didn't, you know, think you were gonna go telling everyone else. Jeeze!"

Dr. M

And when Rocko disappears to go look for a lawyer, Jack turns on the Doctor. "Hey, man, what gives? I thought I could trust you, you know? If word got out, man, if word got out!"

He starts trying to leave, clearly too drunk, but can't seem to make it out of his seat. "And now you got me all drunk, man! How'm I going to get home?"

What do you do?

Rocko

Sometimes the phone book falls open to the right spot. Sometimes it doesn't. Right now, this one was falling open to just the wrong spot: see, it wasn't enough to find a divorce lawyer. No, the phone book had to find that divorce lawyer. The one you had a personal bone to pick, and the one you ran out of town. But even hiding in a sleepy little dale like Hill Valley didn't keep her safe, and now you knew where she was.

Why does Rocko want this divorce lawyer ruined? And I mean want so bad that he's willing to get into some trouble to see it through. What's her name, and what do you do?

QuantumNinja fucked around with this message at 02:05 on Aug 26, 2015

Arashiofordo3
Nov 5, 2010

Warning, Internet
may prove lethal.
Ashe Jones
Heat: 2


quote:

Tell me something you see on the ride that makes you unhappy.

The town was.... difficult to describe. It was exactly the sort of small town American life that so many feared getting trapped in. Like a spiders web of dashed hopes and dreams. It wasn't the kind of life that Ashe had ever envisioned for herself. The whole place just felt... depressing? Run down? Uncared for? Actually what made her feel more depressed than anything was an old movie theatre. The Essex. Jesus. She'd seen red light districts that were more subtle than that. Advertising a showing of hard core porn. She'd never seen anything quite like it.

Ashe was far from innocent, she'd seen her fair share of adult content. But there was something worrying about having it so loud and proud. A town that didn't seem embarrassed by something like that could quite easily go down a dark path.

She noticed that they'd stopped. And she got the impression that Slight was weighing up his options. She must have been pretty blatant in her interest in the theatre. She couldn't blame him, she'd been playing the easy lay for most of the night.

"As hunky as you are, we are not going inside. Just keep driving."

quote:

Tell me something you see on the ride that makes you think here's hope for this town yet.

It was a few blocks away from the Essex. But she came across what looked to be a homeless city sequestered in a back alley. It was actually pretty impressive. Some good solid shelters had been built. What warmed the cockles of her heart more was to see a few people who clearly weren't homeless there amongst them. Hell, one of them was cooking a stew in a large pot. A fold out table with various chopped vegetables and some meat sat next to her. Neatly prepared. The people seemed in pretty good spirits. Laughing and joking. One of them was Screwing a corrugated iron roof on one of the shelters. Someone else was handing out blankets.

To be honest it was pretty sweet of them. In a town like this it had been the last thing Ashe had expected to see. Maybe they were from the local church? Regardless Ashe decided to make note of the place. She'd been homeless enough to know how much gestures like that could mean to people.

quote:

Tell me What's something you see on the ride that makes you want to stop and get involved. Do you?

They were outside Elmo's Ribbs. Ashe had just clocked how hungry she was. But what she also clocked was a lady leaving the restaurant, and the guy who stepped out of a dark corner like a shadow and start after her. Bag snatcher by the looks of it. He'd picked a good target. The lass was completely unaware of her surroundings. How she'd lived as long a-

Then Ashe had to remind herself that normal people don't get shot at on a daily basis.

"Hey, Slight. Stop the bike. I'm hungry. Just pull up over there." She indicated to a spot ahead of the woman's path. The moment they stopped she hoped off the bike, starting walking back the way she came, back towards the diner. She caught the eye of the woman, who tensed up. Not surprising. She did look like a bikers girl right now.

She was right on the money. The bloke following her dashed forwards, from his movements it was clear he was desperate, possibly an addict. But also someone obviously unused to crime. He snatched at the woman's bag, tipping her over with the sudden force of it. They tussled for the bag. The lady screamed for help. Ashe was more than happy to step in. "Hey! Pal!" She yelled and swung a fist at him. She wasn't looking to knock him out. Just knock him off of her and get him to run for it. Sans the purse.

- - -

Do I need to roll anything for that? Or can I just resolve it in the fiction?

Alien Rope Burn
Dec 5, 2004

I wanna be a saikyo HERO!
Mary Sue Murphy

"Mr... um... uh...", Mary Sue says in plain surprise, though she avoids blurting out his name. "Excuse me.", she says, stepping aside. She squints, her mystery detector ringing, but tries to remain surreptitious. He was basically a spy, after all, and they were on a secret mission!

Wrinkling her nose a little at the scent, she looks to the woman. "Are you still open?", she says, looking aside to the shabbily-dressed CIA agent again for just a moment again. Then, she realizes... huh. What does this woman charge, anyway? Can she afford it? Well, if Carlton isn't forthcoming, maybe she can gather some clues here. It's not the mystery she's here for, but she's always in for butting into somebody else's biz.

occamsnailfile
Nov 4, 2007



zamtrios so lonely
Grimey Drawer
Delfina Fantastica


Delfina Fantastica stalled a few moments with chitchat, using her smile freely as she went back and forth on her options. "You are right not to trust them too much, miss, it is a sad thing that many wrestling promoters do not treat the sport with honor." She intimated. "But perhaps we can improve it together, perhaps strike a blow for righteous combat, perhaps over dinner...? I would be willing to treat, you see, I am somewhat new here, and if we are to establish a presence I must know the finest restaurants in the land!"

+smooth to persuade her to go out to dinner later: 2d6+1 11

QuantumNinja
Mar 8, 2013

Trust me.
I pretend to be a ninja.
Arashiofordo3, sounds like you're Delivering a Beatdown. Roll it.

Alien Rope Burn, sounds like you're trying to Scope Out the Scene. Want to roll for that?

Alien Rope Burn
Dec 5, 2004

I wanna be a saikyo HERO!

QuantumNinja posted:

Alien Rope Burn, sounds like you're trying to Scope Out the Scene. Want to roll for that?

I almost always want to roll for that! Whatever it is. So real quick, before I crash... Scope Out a Scene nets an 11. So:
  • Is there anything hidden here?
  • Who's in charge around here?
  • Who knows more than they're letting on?

Arashiofordo3
Nov 5, 2010

Warning, Internet
may prove lethal.
Ashe Jones

- - -
Deliver a Beat Down - Something extra: 2#2d6 9 4
result: 9
No Damage
Option: Give or take something your target is holding or wearing

- - -

W.T. Fits
Apr 21, 2010

Ready to Poyozo Dance all over your face.
Dr. Maheswaran
Heat: 1


Dr. M helps steady Jack to keep him from falling over while mentally chiding himself. "You are right, my friend, I wasn't thinking. Henceforth, I shall maintain strictest confidentiality with regards to your problems. As for getting home, I will call a cab for you, and if you are willing to forgive my slip of the tongue, I will personally see to it that you arrive home safely. But if you no longer desire the presence of my company, at least let me pay your cab fare, as an apology for being more candid about your personal matters than I should have."

Vulpes Vulpes
Apr 28, 2013

"...for you, it is all over...!"
Rocko Mississauga
Heat: 1

"Janice Cornwright. Janice Cornwright. Last time I saw her, she had just miraculously got off on multiple hard-caliber charges and pulled a hard fade out of The City. Second last time I saw her, she was ordering her gang of sharp-toothed apaches, the Bloody Black Barristers, to stamp me to death.

It didn't take. The second one, not the first.

Janice Cornwright was a terror, a true maniac of the Mansonian mold. She ran a thrill-kill band of savage Harvard Law grads, a vicious, entitled cult of personality fuelled by cocaine and money. One part mystery cult, one part racketeering gang, the Triple-B's fought and filed their way across the city and it's people and it's underworld.

They tried to buy me. Didn't work. Then they tried to scare me. They succeeded, but it didn't stop me. Then they tried to kill me.

Didn't work, but it was close. In the end, it was my story that put most of them away, got others killed and got their ringleader, somehow exonerated in a truly dazzling display of legal legerdemain, run out of town.

So I won that one.
We won that one, all of us. All the money and cocaine in the world can't kill the truth, no matter how many finely polished Italian leather shoes are stamping down on it.

She's still out there, though. Others, even worse, are still in here, with us, in this City. And all we can do is make sure that after they stamp us into the cold concrete in that warehouse down by the docks, we get back up, and we kill the monsters that we've allowed to become so powerful."

-Rocko Mississauga, from
Notes from the Front (1976)

Janice Cornwright.

Rocko's finger hadn't moved for about five minutes, aside from the shaking.

Janice Cornwright. Janice Cornwright.

Janice Cornwright.

So she was some divorce lawyer now. Long way to fall from the high skies she had flown back when she had tried to have Rocko killed. Didn’t matter. She was still Janice Cornwright.

Janice Cornwright didn’t go straight. Janice Cornwright didn’t make nice and turn her life around.

Janice Cornwright was a monster. And monsters deserved nothing more than torches and pitchforks.

And nothing stirred up a mob like the truth.

***

Rocko returned to the bar in time to see Doc and the poor sucker he had been filling with bourbon stagger to the door. Rocko didn’t look much better- visibly pale and shaken, he drained both his Gettysburgs at a draw, then went to make his goodbyes.

“I’m heading back, Doc. You kids have fun.

I got a story to write."

If there’s nothing else pressing, Rocko’s headed back to the motel to write a vicious expose on Janice Cornwright, which he will attempt to have published in the local paper. Would the roll be Keep Your Cool +Soul?

QuantumNinja
Mar 8, 2013

Trust me.
I pretend to be a ninja.
Posting to link to this. My posting is probably postponed until next Monday. Sorry in advance.

Vulpes Vulpes
Apr 28, 2013

"...for you, it is all over...!"
I'm in Canada every day, that's no excuse :mad:

QuantumNinja
Mar 8, 2013

Trust me.
I pretend to be a ninja.
Yeah, wow, sorry, recovery from things took longer than I expected. I hope y'all are still here and willing to play! I'm excited, that's for sure.

Mary Sue Murphy

Agent Carlton certainly pauses for a moment upon seeing you. The highly-trained CIA agent that he is, though, he manages to not-quite-stammer a hello. "Oh, uh, Miss...," he begins, before you catch him out with the question to the fortune teller.

He immediately falls back into his trade, trying to put on a face like he doesn't know you, but the damage has been done. After a moment's notice, though, you realize the truth: the show isn't for the Romani woman, it's for you. The truth of their connection is obscured from you, though.

The fortune teller plays along, too, saying to Agent Carlton, "I hope you heard good news, Mister Knuth. Now have a nice evening while I deal with my next client."

You can tell that she's in charge of this situation, somehow, as the Agent heads for the door, right past you, and then disappears into the night. The Romani woman then looks to you and beckons, "Please, back to my seance chamber."

And with that beckoning, you realize she knows way more than she's letting on.

What do you do?

Rocko Mississauga

For Rocko, writing a muckraking article is probably a 'forbidden' vice at this point, right? So let's Free Your Mind! I'm going the answer a question!

You sat down to start writing the piece. The piece that would end Cornwright in this sleepy little town. That was, of course, if it didn't just paint a target on your back.

Actually, funny that. You travel all the way here from the City, out to run-down, wasted Hill Valley, and you didn't hear a thing about any legal-hardened murderers getting off. At least, not in the local papers. But there was that one guy, right? The one who they never really tracked down, Christ-boy. A sleazy Jesus-wannabe leading a Second Coming with enough legal defense to claim squatters rights. All of Skylark's lawyers couldn't disarm his, right?

poo poo.

Cults with legal bravado? Now the pieces were starting to fall into place, and boy did they fold right into your typewriter, kneaded until they spit out the truth. The story was a screaming-hot piece of thrill-hate, the sort of thing that could keep a reader from the lead to the last sentence. It read like hard news, somehow, stripped and raw, but it still had that gonzo flavor that brought out the best nowadays. You could try to call it a feature, maybe, but who cared? The point was: it was clean, it was sharp, and it was full of stinging truth.

Now just to get the local paper to run it.

What do you do?

Ashe Jones

You struggled with the man over the purse, trying to deliver a beat-down, when things got nasty. Junkies, it turns out, aren't well-known for their sensibilities while looking for a fix. And this guy, tussling over the purse, was no different. As you wrestled the purse from him, he produced a knife of some sort of started slicing at you. Got in a good cut, too, while you wrenched the purse away.

1-Harm to you.

You manage to get free with the purse, and you end up standing over his crouched form. He's still brandishing the knife at you, scared and feening for a fix. His voice cracks with fear as he begs, "C'mon, man, I gotta get high! Don't make me cut you for it!"

Slight, from behind you, chuckles. "poo poo, Red, I didn't take you as one to stop a junkie getting his fix on, what with hitting that pizza place and all."

What do you do?

Delfina Fantastica

I'm not sure at all what you're going for here, and I couldn't write a post that I thought fit without asking first. It seems like you're Getting What You Want with the leverage being: "Get seen publicly with someone famous". If so, you should pick some of those options. Also, it's unclear if you're, like, asking her on a date. It sorta came off that way, which I'd label as Seduce instead of Manipulate. I don't care which it is, but clarification would be nice. Picking your options will also give me a better idea of how she'll react to the offer.

Dr. Maheswaran

It takes more work than your old bones really want to get Jack into a cab to... well, the address sounded like another run-down motel, really. Room 46 at the Flaminco. And the cabbie demands your name, too, in case Jack ends up puking. But all in all, the would-be drug dealer got out of your hair safely. Fortunately, your evening was now free of turmoil. Unfortunately, your Chinese food was likely cold back in the room.

What do you do?

Alien Rope Burn
Dec 5, 2004

I wanna be a saikyo HERO!
Mary Sue Murphy

Staring like a deer in the headlights, Mary Sue then snaps out of it. "Oh, well, I thought I'd get my fortune told, even though I know it's all hokum, sometimes it helps one reflect on-" A pause, as she then adjusts her glasses as she follows after. "Oh, that's a bit rude of me to blurt out. Um. What do you charge?"

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Vulpes Vulpes
Apr 28, 2013

"...for you, it is all over...!"
Rocko Mississauga
Heat: 1

"You could write the best story in the world, the kind of story that destroys presidents, dethrones kings and shatters nations.

Don't matter if no one reads it."

-Rocko Mississauga, from
Notes from the Front (1976)

Rocko leaned back from his brand new Olympia SM9 (he had ended up throwing his beloved 1970 Olivetti through the windshield of a squad car of dirty cops who had been dead set on running him down and it had never been the same since) and cracked his knuckles. poo poo fire and save matches, he thought. It amazed him that the vicious screed he had carefully punched out didn't burst into white-hot magnesium hate-flame just sitting there and consume the entire hotel in an apocalyptic blaze of righteousness. Contents under pressure. Highly flammable. Corrosive.

This story would eat away flesh until only gleaming white bone remained.

He reached over for his B&Hs and glared from behind his sunglasses when the pack proved to be empty. Crumpling the paper in one fist, he dropped it in the wastebasket and stood up, his back creaking from the effort.

It was, he reflected, time for the more precarious aspect of this whole undertaking. He had to get this published. People had to read it if it was to be of any use at all.

He took the three carefully typed copies of the article and folded each one into a separate envelope. One he stuck in his pocket, the other he secreted in the ventilation duct in his room, and on the third he wrote the address of the local paper, preparing to it for mailing. One way another, someone was going to read this thing, even if it proved to be in his obituary.

Now. Off to the offices of the Hill Valley Telegraph and see what could be done.

He left his room, skateboard under his arm, and was about to glide out the door when he reconsidered. He could probably use some backup on this one. Another smooth talker, someone who could help out if his own hatred overwhelmed his own persuasive powers.

Down the hall. Knuckles on a door.

"Hey Doc, you in there? Want to help me with something?"

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