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 Burns Jackson runs over to you and, mustering all her strength, manages to push the carcass off of you. Even in the darkness you can see she's injured, blood oozes out of a gash across her face. Thankfully it appears to have missed anything terribly sensitive, but even assuming it heals properly she'll have that scar across her face for the rest of her life. And that's even assuming you can find actual medical care out in this wasteland. Carefully, you inspect the beast's body to be sure that it's dead. A thick green liquid with a consistency more akin to tar than blood leaks from its bullet wounds. The creature itself is like nothing you've ever seen before, like a cross between a bear and some pre-Fall battle robot by way of The Fly. Jackson doesn't say anything, but she casually nods away from the body as if to say "let's not worry about that right now." The two of you settle back down into your makeshift camp, alternating guard, but this time, nothing comes out of the night to attack. When morning arrives, you pack up and head towards Mowai. We'll pick this up next session. Torch, Liliana, and Triage Although obviously still scared, Shigusa sees the violence come to a stop and calms down a little bit. She doesn't trust Liliana, and she sure as gently caress doesn't trust Torch, but in this situation what else is she to do? She agrees to walk with the two of you back to Triage, her long day's journey nearly at an end. Before you walk out, Dead-Wire pulls you outside, Liliana. "Listen," she says, her voice low enough that the others can't hear. "I'll hold onto Roz for you for a bit. But when you get back, we need to talk, ok?" She plants a soft kiss on your cheek. "Get going." Triage, from the back of First Response, bottle in hand, you see three figures in the night walking back to you, two adults and a child. As they grow closer, you can make out faces: Torch and oh thank god it's Shigusa and... Liliana Korinkova? How the gently caress did she get mixed up in this? A question for another time, you suppose, for right now you're too overjoyed to see Shigusa again, unharmed. Mox runs out and hugs his sister, and the two head back over and climb into First Response. Torch is still pretty badly injured, and Lili might physically be ok but it sure has been a long day. Time for the three of you to settle down for the night, so you can start picking up the pieces when morning comes. We'll pick this up next session. All Back at the entrance of Spark Canyon, Cenek and the other survivors of the Battle of Old Machine limp their way home. The Sparkers had been anticipating a triumphant return, but instead many never made it home at all and the ones who did are broken and bruised. This is no victory lap, but a funeral march. All the way across the Canyon stands the Manufactory, a great old pre-Fall building now reclaimed as a palace of sorts for the society's leaders and ruling class. Bretislav Mazel, mayor of Spark Canyon, watches the procession in the streets below from a large window at the very top of the Manufactory. Besides him stands the Madame, her hands tense with stress, her face flush with anger. Bretislav leans over and whispers something into her ear. She nods, then turns heel and walks out of the room. Below them, the bullet-machines of Spark Canyon reactivate. End of Session One If you have a move that triggers at the end of the session, it triggers now. quiggy fucked around with this message at 17:14 on Sep 28, 2018 |
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Sep 28, 2018 17:11
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 Session Two If you have a move that triggers at the start of a session, it triggers now. Don't forget to cash in your advances, and don't forget to pay the world its due. Typhon It's been three weeks since you and the Crags set up your blockade on the Demon Road south of Afphron's Crossing. After a few small scuffles in the first week, no one's tried to cross you since--word travels fast on the roads, especially when a major artery like this is shut down. Dameame seems concerned that the Afphroni may be setting up for war against you, and if not the Afphroni, than the Mowai or the Sparkers or the Dispatchers or the Derricks or literally any other group that relies on the Demon Road for trade. For now though, silence. In addition to the blockade, you and the rest of your crew set up a makeshift slingshot with the help of some poo poo Ringerman had. You wanted a tow cable, but no one had it, but Ringerman had what he called a bun-jee that seemed to do the job. The idea was to launch the green poo poo from the truck you ran off the road into Afphron as part of the siege, but without any sort of bio-isolation suit it was tough to convince anyone to handle the stuff. Cato offered to try, but the poo poo ate right through his gloves and badly burned his hands when he tried to scoop some up. Eventually you realized the green poo poo wasn't eating the metal of the truck itself, so you grabbed a few metal buckets and started shoveling the poo poo that way. A bit dangerous still, but better than just straight-up exposing yourself to chem burns. It's while you're loading another payload of the poo poo that you hear the distinctive horn of Cadencecrest's bike from her lookout spot. One honk, two honk, three honks. Enemy convoy, and big too. Possibly aggressive. Pause, then double-honk. North side, from Afphron. Probably only got two or three minutes before they're on you. What do you do? Torch Although Triage has maintained that Dirt Home will make a nearly-complete recovery, she still lies in recovery in the back of First Response, knocked out by Triage's sleep drugs and unable to speak with you. As the time passed, The Master's Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master's House grew increasingly agitated, worried about the state of Old Machine's recovery in the wake of the attack. Yet despite this agitation, she remains firmly by Dirt Home's side, committed to being there when her leader awakens at least. Five days ago, Never approached you and sat down quietly beside you while you had a drink at a nearby watering hole. "Torch, I've been thinking," she began, her voice tired and stressed from long nights and the pain of waiting. "One of us needs to wait here by Dirt Home, but the other should return to Old Machine and see what if anything needs doing to help them pick up the pieces. Could you do that, and help them? I will gladly pay you for helping, and I'm sure that when Dirt Home wakes up the full resources of Old Machine will be at your side." A conversation and a trip to Old Machine later, and you were given a task by one they called Rope Trick, one of the bandits who originally rode with Dirt Home before they freed the slaves and set up their sanctuary. Their skin is dark and cracked from years on the road, their voice gravelly and deep, and at all times they wear a truly terrible old tattered top hat. "Long story, and not one I care to repeat," they told you when asked about it. The two of you hash out the details of a job and payment, and yesterday you set out to the north, to the site of the Greenpool Massacre. Once, it was a rest area off the side of a highway, serving weary travelers needing a bathroom pit stop or a snack or a pick-me-up coffee. Then it was a vacant building after the Fall, and then it was occupied, and then came the Massacre. Since then it has remained vacant, full of only bones and buzzards and, if the rumors are to be believed, the unquiet dead. You know there's weird poo poo out there--your time in the Bone Convoy made you very sure of that--and so you time yourself to arrive in the morning, as the heat from the sun cooks off the mist that rolls in every night. Your mission, as Rope Trick told you: find the stash of medicines and canned foods Dirt Home hid in the days before Old Machine for her crew when needed, hidden within the ruin itself of Greenpool. Get as much as possible, and scavenge the bodies for weapons and ammunition too, if bonepickers have not yet picked them clean. You and Hunter-Killer roll into the Restop. Time to make a plan and get to it. What do you do? Torch, chat with Triage OOC to discuss what healing you were provided in the downtime, and what sort of payment if any is still due. Burns and Liliana Burns, you and Jackson rolled into Mowai Circle two days after the attack from the bear-thing. Tired and injured, but not dangerously so, you sought the care of a local doctor: Triage, he called himself. He had a repurposed pre-Fall ambulance kitted out to survive the harsh realities of the roads, and the best medical equipment either of you had seen outside of some of the disused infirmary connected to your unit's stasis chamber. He was able to treat you just fine, although his attention was very much split between the two of you, an armless raider under his care named Tiny, an unconscious woman called Dirt Home, some weird psychic in love with her car named Liliana (the person's name, that is, the car was named Roz), his two children Mox and Shigusa, and his own injuries. Sounds like he had a hell of a time. It was while you were in Mowai that reports began coming in about the blockade on the Demon Road. Some chopper thugs had gotten into a scrap in Afphron, and responded by setting up camp a few miles south and cutting off almost all trade between the north and south ends of the roads. There are ways around, of course, but none are as direct or as safe as the Demon Road between Mowai and Afphron. Triage is suffering quite a bit with the flow of his medicine cut, and he's not alone. All of Mowai wants the blockade cleared, and you're sure every community from here all the way down to Spark Canyon agrees. Triage had a plan, it seemed. Liliana, you were there when Triage suggested to the two strangers in military fatigues that they travel north to the blockade site and attempt to find some way to crack it. It seemed foolish, in a sense--if the Afphroni hadn't cracked it yet, how would these two?--and yet you couldn't pretend that the idea didn't hold water. Maybe a smaller group could find some secret way to break the blockade, or could find a way to negotiate passage, that the Afphroni themselves couldn't. And like Triage, you too had a reason to want through, to return to your workshop north of the 'Xon Oasis. You volunteered both yourself and Roz to travel with the Burns and Jackson, and yesterday morning the two of you pulled out of Mowai and headed north along the Demon Road. The blockade is only just coming into sight as your trio hears the sounds of a vehicle horn up ahead. You can't quite place the kind of vehicle, it sounds like whoever owns it has replaced the horn with a custom sound of their own design. But you're certain they haven't seen you yet, because you haven't seen them either. No way of knowing exactly why the vehicle honked so many times. You'd guess, however, that the vehicle is part of the blockade, just past the destroyed truck you see up ahead on the left-hand side of the road. What do you each of you do? Burns, go ahead and reset your harm to 0:00. Your body has naturally healed in the three weeks since the bear attack. Triage Consider what a nightmare that one day was, the past three weeks have been relatively calm. Dirt Home is still in critical condition but stable, and Tiny is slowly adjusting to her new life with one arm. Every so often you think about the fact that Here-Not-There said there were others in their crew that were infected with the flesh-eating disease, but life's been too busy and supplies too low to be able to do anything about it. You can only hope that they will survive until you can find them, or barring that, that no one will find their bodies and the disease will die there. Not long after the nightmare day you buried the bio-box out in the wastes a few hours south of Mowai Circle where no one will ever find it. Since then, Mowai Circle has needed whatever help you can offer, and you haven't managed to pack your bags into First Response and leave just yet. The blockade of the Demon Road has cut off the flow of medical supplies from Dispatch, Derrick, and Afphron. Just yesterday you sent Burns, Jackson, and Liliana north to scout out the blockade and clear it as best they can, but you haven't heard back yet--not that you expected to, of course. Shigusa and Mox, too, have been adjusting to life here in Mowai. Shigusa seems a little more timid than usual, likely spooked after being threatened by who she called "the mean electro lady" and who Liliana called Dead-Wire, but slowly she seems to be opening back up. Mox, on the other hand, seems to be shutting down a little more every day, still shaken by his act of violence against Here-Not-There. A justified act of violence, no doubt, but violence by his own hands for the first time in his life nevertheless. Today, the sun shines over the road to the west and the desire to leave Mowai is more powerful than ever. Tiny approaches you, and for the first time since the day you met, brings up her old crew. "Tree," she says, adopting the kids' nickname for you, "I was thinking. My old crew... they're still out there. Their bodies, at least. We never saved them. I know we got folks here who need saving, but... I can't just let them die and forget about them. I need to go back, if nothing else to bury them. They've probably got some medical supplies too, not as good as the poo poo you'd get if the Demon Road were open but better than nothing. I ain't got a car though, and I hate to ask 'cuz I know you're still very busy here, but can we go? All of us, you, me, Dirt Home, the kids, find my crew and treat 'em or bury 'em? It's only right." What do you do? Negotiate the terms of the healing with Torch and spend supplies for your own healing and hers as makes sense.
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Oct 9, 2018 19:06
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 Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp=0 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 0-barter | x x x x > 1-barter for living expenses, we're not exactly living large, here. "Drop the fuckin' sludgebuckets," I order. Too dangerous to use in a roadfight; we haven't exactly figured out what the hell is going on with that crap yet. I'm starting to think that there might be a better way to deal with it, but those thoughts will have to wait. I honk the hog's horn four times in response. Standard plan. Cadencecrest will retreat to the main blockade, dropping the caltrops along the way. My team will advance and set the actual block, and Ringerman's squad will head off to the left, western side of the road, to sweep in once we've tied them up. We creep up to the point, rolling hot with the engines revving and roaring. Guns are happy. Hat feels good on my head, that's always important. I put my hand up to the brim, and wait for just the right moment. Read a Sitch: 2d6+0 8 Which enemy is most vulnerable to me?
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Oct 10, 2018 15:09
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 Cool=0 Hard-1 Hot-1 Sharp+2 Weird+3 | 0:00 | 1-armor | 3-barter | x x x o > 1-barter for living expenses. Liliana bites her tongue. This situation is bad. Something's messing with her powers, and it gives Roz a headache. "Don't like this. Something bad ahead. Very bad. Damaging local psychic field." The "Demon" Road creaks under them. Liliana pities it. It sucks up all the pain and agony people put into it, and it's reservoir of agony swells. Yet it can only feel pain, it cannot understand why. They were perhaps more alike than Liliana liked to admit. "You pray to old machine-gods? Oh'shia? Ford-Tough? Is good time for prayer if you do." She sits back in the seat, engine turning over. Roz is anxious, so is she. "How you want play this?"
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Oct 10, 2018 20:45
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 Cool+3 Hard+1 Hot=0 Sharp+1 Weird-nil | 0:00 | 2-armor | 2-barter | x x x x > Spillin' 1-barter for life expenses. Session Start: Memory: 2d6+1 4 Looks like you're the one asking the question here, boss. Thank fuckin' Christ Almighty Tammy's been out here long enough to start understanding these Spark Canyon people. It's wild. It's not just the accent, they somehow sound like you're hearing them through a blown-out speaker when you're talking to them in person. But apparently, this Lili girl is a techno-wizard, and the fact that she's driving around this scuttled warzone in a Maserati supercar that was built before I was born is probably a testament to that. She's exactly who we need to get the Stasis Lock working again. I just gotta give her whatever she asks for in return and scoot her out of the facility before my superiors come to. And hope Suarez didn't decide to try and crack the nut without telling me. That's thinking for the future though, right now we gotta deal with a bunch of disgruntled bikie meth heads clogging the freeway. Do they still make meth? They gotta have some kind of amphetamines. You can't have a biker gang without amphetamines. "Probably no good trying to reason with 'em. Wouldn't be a very good blockade if you just let anyone who asks nicely through. I was thinking me and Jackson can get up on to the embankments along the side of the road, draw their attention to the flanks, while you hit 'em up the middle. That sound good to you?"
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Oct 11, 2018 14:47
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Cool=0 Hard-1 Hot-1 Sharp+2 Weird+3 | 0:00 | 1-armor | 3-barter | x x x o > "Yes. Road here is full of pain and anguish. Can make towline to drag it out. Drive fast and pull it through them as I go." I bite my lip. "But I do not know how it affect null. It affect, right? Have hard time with affect and effect. Waster very hard language." Roz snorts. "It might make you very sick if you not clear. Maybe even stroke."
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Oct 11, 2018 14:57
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Cool+3 Hard+1 Hot=0 Sharp+1 Weird-nil | 0:00 | 2-armor | 2-barter | x x x x > I don't totally understand what she's talking about, but it's probably related to the mental tornado that hit me when I first woke up. Tammy told me what it was like for her, too, and it sounds like we had the same experience. Big surge right out the gate, then not even a tickle since then. "Don't worry about it. We've both had worse. All you need to worry about is being in the zone and doing your thing."
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Oct 11, 2018 15:04
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Cool=0 Hard-1 Hot-1 Sharp+2 Weird+3 | 0:00 | 1-armor | 3-barter | x x x o > "Got it. You start. Will take me minutes to put together charms for tow-line." Liliana steps out of the car and opens the trunk lid. Spark charms against electrical shock and explosion clatter in the late morning breeze and catch the rising sun. Energy from the Demon Road drips from them - black like oil and runny like tears. "We meet up again in Dispatch, and then we go deal with your problem. Outside a place belong to man name Big Rod." Liliana takes a roll of steel wire and cutting shears, then opens her palm with a ritual knife before she starts muttering prayers to the God-Machines in Spark. She runs the steel wire through her blood, and it turns black as she does. The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 16:59 on Oct 11, 2018 |
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Oct 11, 2018 15:13
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 Cool+3 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 2-armor | 1-barter | o o o o o > Roll up to Greenpool, first time since the massacre. Bad memories. But I've got bad memories most places. What happened here - can leave something behind. Dangerous. Dangerous in a way its hard to see coming. Seen that before - been in the midst of it before. There are things in the waste that you can't kill with lead and steel. That can kill you. Or worse. Place like this, you're likely to find them. Park the Hunter-Killer near the main building, close enough to reach, clear path back onto the road, but out of sight. To a glance at least. Sit for a moment after the engine goes silent. Listening. Longer than I need to. Curse myself for a fool. All this does is give trouble time to find me. Pull myself out of the car, take the sword and the lupara and the rifle. Step into the main building through a broken window. Was a market in the before times, and after. Now it's a grave, like most of the world. Bones litter the floor, signs of that last fight. Can see already the vultures, of all sorts, have been at them and picked away everything worth having. Least on the obvious bodies, the ones you can see just by glancing in. Make my way towards the first of the shops, rifle in hand. Not sure where this cache is. Might take a while to find it. Might be other things people have hidden here. Will be things the scavengers missed. Things worth finding. Spent 1 on lifestyle. Searching Greenpool Restop (+Sharp): 2d6+1 6
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Oct 11, 2018 15:14
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 Cool+1 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+2 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 1-armor | 0-barter | 3-stock | x x x o > Spent 1-barter on living expenses, 1 more on the last of Mowai's pre-blockade med poo poo (+2 stock). Believe it or not, I'm actually pretty fuckin' good at what I do. Patching up Torch and myself wasn't poo poo, not with flesh-eatin' gribblies and psycho fucks takin' hostages and tryin' to pay with bullets out of the mix. Even learned a few new tricks to punch out bullets and shrapnel, get that flesh sewn up just right. No chillstabs for either of us, though, ain't enough time in the world to take a week off my feet and Torch didn't spring for the luxe package. It hurt like ya wouldn't believe, no doubt, but it ain't the first or last time it'll happen. Tough goddamn world out there. Taking +XP from both of the healing rolls, 3-stock spent. Now, of course, I'm still worried about the kids. It ain't normal for Mox to be so quiet. Kid's usually yappin' my ear off, but it's good to see his sister's starting to pull out of her funk. Maybe I'll have Tiny show 'em some self-defense crap later on. Mox ain't ready, I can see that, but Shiggy might take to it okay. And speaking of... gently caress, yeah, I've been too goddamn busy to make heads or tails on the source of the gribblies. Can't well leave that alone for much longer, ain't no tellin' when the next two-bit rear end in a top hat sticks their dick in a potential pandemic. I say, "Yeah, I ain't gonna say I haven't thought about it, Tiny. Tell ya what, we'll go do a quick sweep today, see if we can't get things cleaned up one way or the other, and maybe you can point me at the place y'all were messin' with before the poo poo got outta hand." I shake my head. "Things're gonna get bad here if the blockade keeps up, though, so I can't promise much more than that." Tricky fucked around with this message at 00:11 on Oct 12, 2018 |
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Oct 11, 2018 15:30
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Cool=0 Hard-1 Hot-1 Sharp+2 Weird+3 | 0:00 | 1-armor | 3-barter | x x x o > Liliana forgets the rest of the world. There is only her ball of wire, shears, and her blood. She carves it into a elaborate shape, a psychic tow-hook that attracts agony. When it's finished she checks it again, and again. It has to be perfect so it doesn't engulf the whole car. One misplaced strain and they're both dead of a stroke on the side of the road. There isn't. She leans down. This is the part she hates. Her blood drips on the pavement. It whimpers again, maybe even aware of what's about to happen. Her bloodied hand rests against the asphalt. It burns. She closes her eyes. Her hand moves deeper. She can feel tears, salt in the wound, smell burning flesh. The Demon Road's soul convulses. The Woman-Who-Is-Not-Quite-Liliana (But Almost) opens her eyes. Something alien in swims in her mind. A connection, a thread of road salt, vomit, and blood between her and the road. "I'm OK Roz, I think." She says to her partner. She shakes her hand clear, stands up again. As if it was the first time she ever stood up, wobbly legged and a little dazed by the blazing white-yellow sun above them. She takes the ball of engraved steel wire to the hitch and slides them together. Lock and key. Asphalt and lines. The God-Machines are not alone in her mind anymore. She serves the road now too. "Still here, mostly." She says. The Woman-Who-Is-Not-Quite-Liliana (But Almost) takes the wheel. She squeezes the leather, blood leaks from her bandages onto it. Roz is cool, calm. Spark charms hanging from the rear view mirror shine. She watches them for a moment, waiting for a sign. They twitch. The engine roars like a false-prophet, and Rozmamat rockets towards the blockade. As she flies the memories of screams and sobbing and curses and broken bodies build against the hitch. They're desperate for release, any release. The people ahead must be bloody indeed. As the screams rise behind Liliana they bleed together, almost like distortion from a broken computer speaker. Music pours out of Roz's speakers as they rush towards the blockade. -------- OOC: Liliana will Open Her Brain: 2d6+3 13 to slam a wave of agony and suffering from the Demon Road into the blockade.
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Oct 11, 2018 18:19
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Torch You step over countless bodies and bones as you plunge deeper into the rotting skeleton of the Greenpool Restop. Worse than the bones are the still-corpses, preserved through some unfathomable means, the flesh sloughing off the bodies but never rotting or consumed by the vermin of this place. The stench is unbearable, but worse are the memories. Flashes of gunfire. Screams. Blood. Death. Few believe the stories of what transpired here, and fewer still know the truth. You are one of those so burdened. Lupara in one hand and sword in the other, you make your way towards the back of the building. It is dark, the skylights smashed in and overgrown with a thick black moss. Like most Wasters, you learned the sounds the letters of old made, but you cannot fathom the meaning of "Sbarro" as you step over yet more corpses. Let this be the place Dirt Home left her cache, you think to yourself, clutching your shotgun tighter. As you jump over the counter to investigate the back area of the place known as Sbarro, you hear a sound behind you, a creaking and rattling sound. Turning your head you see the bones of the dead beginning to animate and stir. They do not rise up in some pale imitation of life but instead shift and move across the ground like a river or a mudslide, slowly inching towards you, the waves of bone crashing against the counter of this former restaurant. What do you do? Triage Tiny nods, and returns to helping you finish your duties in Mowai. A few hours later, Dirt Home's still-motionless body firmly secured in the back and the four awake passengers ready, you leave the city behind and head south, towards where Tiny last saw her crew. About three hours later, you find it. You're first alerted to the bandit camp by a plume of smoke on the horizon, too thick to be merely a campfire but too thin to be the site of a battle or a burned wreck. Tiny indicates to you that this is the place, and you pull First Response off-road and drive through the trees and brush until you reach a small clearing. "This is where we was when Here and me left," she says. There's a tension in her voice, an unspoken fear. In the middle of the clearing there's a bonfire, still burning, and a rancid smell fills the air. The smoke is a sickly grey, and as you look closer at the first you see not just wood but cloth and bone. As far as you can see, the fire is abandoned, and a small convoy of vehicles is parked around it, all empty. What do you do? Liliana, Burns, and Typhon Liliana, for a moment, you feel nothing--not the cool chill in the air, not the blockade ahead, not Roz beside you. And then, just as suddenly, you feel everything. All the hate and malice and pain and blood and fury spilled upon the Demon Road left a psychic scar so deep in the maelstrom that even those who cannot open their brains as you can feel the wrongness when they ride upon it, and that energy is inside you, in your brain, charging and building and leaking. Typhon, you and the Crags know none of this. The enemy convoy rolls up, and a man steps out, hands outstretched, a show of peace. It's Samuel Salt, of course. "Typhon, we meet again. The envoys of Afphron send you this message: you are to return to-" He is cut off as the wave from Liliana strikes the convoy and rolls north. The first clue any of you have that something has gone terribly wrong is the sound of motorcycles falling in unison, and then a crackling not unlike a discharge of electricity, and then hate and anger and fear so powerful as to be overwhelming. You, all of you standing upon the Demon Road, take its hatred into you, and there is only shadow. Burns, you watch as Roz's engine stalls and Liliana, seemingly unconscious, loses control. You watch as the back line of motorcycles holding the Demon Road blockade topple over, and you watch as a wave of what looks like superheated air reflects in either direction from Liliana's position. Jackson screams "get down!" but she sounds a mile away, and it is too late anyway. The energy strikes you... and then it passes through you, and you are unaffected. You watch as it continues southward, down the many miles towards Mowai. There is a deep silence that falls over the road, and a stillness you have never felt. Liliana and Typhon, you both awaken to find your heads pounding and the asphalt of the Demon Road screaming to you, a psychic scream so loud as to be nearly impossible to ignore. Samuel Salt returns to his feet, holding his head in pain, blood pouring from his nose. "Y-you!" he screams, pointing at Liliana. "Witch!" What do each of you do? Liliana, you suffer Ψ-harm. Roll 2d6+1 and follow the Ψ-harm rules. Typhon, you and the Crags all suffer Ψ-harm. Roll 2d6+1 and follow the Ψ-harm rules. Burns, you and Jackson are... fine. Turns out being psychically null has its perks. quiggy fucked around with this message at 21:29 on Oct 16, 2018 |
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Oct 16, 2018 21:27
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Cool+3 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 2-armor | 1-barter | x o o o o > "gently caress." Should have known better than to come here. Wasteland's full of haunted places, places saturated with blood and death. Knew Greenpool was one of them. Was here when it happened. Maybe should have been my bones on the floor. Of course this place remembers. Take a step back, then scramble up onto the counter. Look for a way to climb higher. Keep out of reach. Find a way back out after. Do Something Under Fire (+Cool): 2d6+3 7
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Oct 17, 2018 02:31
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Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp=0 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 0-barter | o o o o > It's like, it's like those loving dreams where you're chewing a steak and then all of a sudden your tooth falls out and you're chewing a tooth and endlessly spitting teeth out and then mercifully you wake up. Except this time, I'm actually spitting enamel chunks out of my mouth. I'm seeing blood, real blood, except I don't think it's mine, and I don't think it truly belongs to anyone. It's just the blood, the blood spilled on this road, coming back and living. And it's loving her goddamn loving fault. Fault? She loving did this on purpose. Everyone's reeling. hosed up. In this moment, it seems that Samuel Salt and the Afphroni no longer care about our disagreement. And neither do I. I'm barely conscious, somehow, and I become aware of my thoughts through the haze and redness of the pure hate of the road. And I realize that I'm already shooting. The rapid brchunks of the submachine gun are satisfying, sending a stream of bullets at the one woman responsible for this loving hell. Maybe it's the psychic energies from the Road being forced in. Maybe it's the fact that she did this. Maybe it's both. gently caress you and die. Go Aggro [Shooting Lilli]: 2d6+2 9 (2-harm close autofire loud) Marked an advance. Going from small to medium gang, but banked until narratively applicable. Per MC: Taking Psi-Harm: 2d6+1 7 "You lose your grip on whatever you're holding." specifically, your control of the situation and your iron grip on the Demon Road might be possible to get it back, might not be, but at this exact moment everything is up for grabs Captain Foo fucked around with this message at 16:51 on Oct 17, 2018 |
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Oct 17, 2018 16:08
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Cool=0 Hard-1 Hot-1 Sharp+2 Weird+3 | 3:00 | 1-armor | 3-barter | x x x o > poo poo. That wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to stay in control and... Now there's pain, screaming from her body and the spirits. She turns over the engine. It doesn't start, stalled alternator. The rest of them are going to start shooting if she doesn't DO SOMETHING. The Road is breathing, in her mind. Wait, that's it. The Road. She closes her eyes again, let's go of her heartbeat and listens to the spirits around. The sobbing and the crying, and the dirty, ugly man they're clinging to. Tears fall unbidden, and she understands. She turns the key again, her fingers burning. It doesn't work, even with the spirit spark. Damnit, what is it? Roz. "I love you my darling, and I don't tell you enough." They all take a step closer. "Please, I'm begging you. You're the light of my life AND I NEED YOU RIGHT NOW!" She turns the key. Roz shrieks, and the sound digs into their minds again. Liliana slams the pedal into the floor and rides off, tears in her eyes. "I love you, I love you, I love you." She repeats it like a mantra, it helps her forget the pain as she blazes away from the Road. Spirits whisper in Roz's wake. ------------- OOC: Getting the gently caress out, plotting the fastest course for the Warehouse. Psi-Harm: 2d6+1 7 Escaping (Acting Under Fire, Using Weird Due To Spooky Intense): 2d6+3 12
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Oct 17, 2018 17:08
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Cool+3 Hard+1 Hot=0 Sharp+1 Weird-nil | 0:00 | 2-armor | 2-barter | x x x x > Hm. Seems bad. Dunno what the gently caress Lili thought was gonna happen there but I can't say for sure she got the result she was looking for. The bikers and the Aphroni are freakin' out, but not at each other and she's a sitting duck. I glance over to Tammy's position, she's fine like me. Guess despite how long she's been out here, the dam hasn't broken for her yet. Sure hope that wave dissipates before it hits Mowai, otherwise when we get back it's gonna be in full-on hockey riot. Anyway, we still got a job to do. Covering fire for the borscht-eater so she can get her rear end in gear, controlled shots, try not to kill anyone, don't want these guys any madder at us than we need them to be. Bikers tend to hold grudges. Get prone, lowest profile we can get, can't give them a big target to fire back on. Once Lili is off the scene, it's back on the bikes and we circle back to Mowai in different directions. Lay Down Fire: 2d6+1 8 Choose 2: • You provide covering fire, allowing another character to move or act freely. • You provide supressing fire, denying another character to move or act freely. (If a PC, they may still act under fire.)
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Oct 17, 2018 17:41
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Cool+1 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+2 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 1-armor | 0-barter | 3-stock | x x x x > Alright, yeah, this fuckin' smells and I ain't just talkin' the literal. I've seen enough ruined convoys or whatever to know that things don't just get that quiet. There'd be more blood, bullet holes, or whatever you like if it'd been an attack and someone would've broke camp in a hurry if the gribblies were startin' to go all exponential. I pull up, keep the engine running, and turn to the crew, "Aight, I'm not likin' this at all. Mox, Shiggy, ya'll stay low and down. Either we're gonna get some shootin' or some messed-up plague poo poo and either way I don't want you mixed up with it. Tiny, keep an eye on 'em. Punch on out of here if things go sideways, I'll figure somethin' out and meet you at Mowai." Then, once I get some nods or blank looks or whatever the gently caress they can muster, I pop the door and hop on out. drat glad that Lil managed to give that shottie a new barrel and some shiny-rear end chrome bits, but it'd be a real treat if I didn't have to do some grievous bodily harm today. A real drat treat. I slam the door behind me and start moseying on over to the bonfire. I say, "Yo, anyone still here? Tiny said ya'll got that flesh poo poo that's been goin' around, I can help with that." The smell ain't gettin' any better, that's for drat sure, but it's hard makin' heads or tails of what's goin' on. Read A Sitch: 2d6+2 5 Asking "What should I be on the lookout for?" and preparing for the worst. +XP.
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Oct 17, 2018 22:34
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OOC Note: Between the last post and this one, The Unlife Aquatic dropped out of the game. I wish her the best, and hope Liliana finds peace wherever she ended up. Torch As quick as you can you hop up onto the counter, looking for a way up into the ceiling and away from the encroaching wave of bone. You knew this place was haunted and you've heard tales of the weird poo poo that exists in all corners of the roads, but this is beyond anything you've ever experienced. You find a panel you can quickly remove from the old drop ceiling and begin hoisting yourself up, but not before a bony tendril reaches up out of the mass below you and grabs a hold of your leg. You're going to need to give it something if you want to escape. What do you do? The bone wave is not intelligent, and it simply wants to consume. Give it some object--your boot, your gun, some jingle, something else--if you want to distract it and climb into the ceiling. Or find a different way to deal with this, of course. Triage Tiny nods and grabs her shotgun, then moves to stand guard at the back of First Response. Her aim's still poo poo without her other arm, and she's clearly a little worried by the weird scene--after all, the fire still burns but no one seems to be here. You take a few steps closer to the fire, hoping to figure out what's going on and keeping an eye out for dangers. Danger is, of course, exactly what you find. Two figures emerge from the woods, both covered head-to-toe in the flesh poo poo, wielding big fuckoff guns pointed directly at you. Tiny takes a step forward and shouts, "Holy poo poo, Jagoff! Gang-Of-One! Drop your weapons, Triage can help y-" Tiny's words are cut off with the sound of gunfire, a shot from one of the guns aimed directly at her from the one she called Jagoff. There's a spray of blood and Tiny spins and hits the ground hard, unmoving. Jagoff reloads while Gang-Of-One sweeps around quickly, gun firmly pointed at you. "Hands where I can see 'em!" ze shouts. Hir voice is guttural and animalistic, a timbre and tone totally unlike any you've heard from a person before. Whatever that flesh poo poo is, sounds like it's moved into the vocal cords too. What do you do? Typhon and Burns Typhon, you and Samuel Salt both open fire on the escaping vehicle, unloading as much lead as you possible can before it's out of range. The back of the car is peppered with bullets, and someone's shot--you're not sure who in the confusion--breaks the rear window and you see a splatter of blood as the bullet hits the driver's shoulder. Nevertheless, she manages to escape over the horizon before you can bring her down. The rest of the Crags and the Afphroni recover and stand up, then draw their guns on each other immediately. Before anyone can pull the trigger and turn the standoff hot, Samuel Salt drops his weapon. "Easy, now! We came here to talk, and that witch just wants us to kill each other. Let's talk this out like gentlemen and not resort to our basest desires, hmm?" Burns, your covering fire enables Lili to escape the scene with relative ease, although two of the men open fire on her regardless, peppering Roz with bullets. With your help she escapes with ease, of course. Jackson trains her gun back towards the two factions below, and you see her finger tense on the trigger. Just before she shoots, however, one of the men drops his weapon and begins talking, as if proposing an armistice. He's wearing overalls and a straw hat, and the men standing behind him seem more than willing to stand at peace for a brief moment while he speaks. Of course, their guns are still firmly trained on the other half of the people, giving you and Jackson a few precious moments to make whatever move you deem appropriate. What do you each of you do? Edit: Totally forgot to ask Burns a question about the Fall! Hey Alaois, could we have stopped it? quiggy fucked around with this message at 20:19 on Oct 19, 2018 |
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Oct 19, 2018 18:22
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Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp=0 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 0-barter | o x x x > I'm still wincing, the world is warping in front of my eye. Feels like a fuckin' migraine. Either that or the Road itself is still roiling. Could be true, too. Fuckin' ow. I hear Samuel Salt talking. "Agreed, bud," I gibber. My hand is up, stalling the Crags, then I flip my thumb out, pointing at the two gunners. "I know our beef, we'll chat in a minute, yeah?" As smooth as I can make it, I swap mags in the gun and turn on the two others. Fuckers were shooting at us. The boiz raise their weapons, not at the Afphroni, but at the interlopers. "The gently caress you have to do with any of this goddamn poo poo," I belt out. poo poo is hosed up, and I want answers. Go Aggro [Jackson tell me WTF]: 2d6+2 6
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Oct 19, 2018 18:32
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Cool+3 Hard+1 Hot=0 Sharp+1 Weird-nil | 0:00 | 2-armor | 2-barter | x x x x > poo poo, no time to get back on the bike, they've already got their guns trained on us. But they're not firing. That tells me a lot actually. That tells me they're willing to talk, at least for a bit. "We're just a distraction. Wasn't plannin' on killin' any of you, which you'd see when you realize none of your boys are filled with holes right now. Just trying to give the one in the car enough time to get away. Didn't know they do what they did though, that was some freaky poo poo. But no harm, no foul, you let us scoot on back to Mowai, make sure that place isn't burning to the ground right now, and maybe we can catch up some other time. Peace?"
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Oct 19, 2018 18:49
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Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp=0 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 0-barter | o x x x > And wouldn't you fuckin' know it, I'm puking everywhere. I can't fuckin' deal with -- and then goddamnit, Buzz just puked on my boots. And Dameame's pukin', and "Sure, go," barf
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Oct 19, 2018 19:02
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Cool+3 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 2-armor | 1-barter | x o o o o > Jerk my foot, once, again. Something gives. loving thing has my boot. Nothing for it now - clamber up into the ceiling. Rails give a bit, make some noise, in a way I don't like. Manage to slide over to one of the beams its anchored to. lovely situation. As usual. Brace myself and peer around. Need to find a way clear of this. Read a Sitch (+Sharp): 2d6+1 3 Where’s my best escape route? Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at 19:08 on Oct 19, 2018 |
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Oct 19, 2018 19:04
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Cool+1 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+2 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 1-armor | 0-barter | 3-stock | x x x x > By the time I process Tiny gettin' got, I'm already laying down both barrels on these walkin' infections. Yeah, uh. Assuming she lives through this, not to mention me, I'll have to apologize for straight up euthanizing everyone she rolled with. I can't fuckin' amputate a whole person. That wouldn't leave enough uninfected meat for one of them waste dogs to give it a second look. Still, gently caress, what is it with this crew and big goddamn weapons? You'd think they knocked over an old-world armory or somethin'. Seize The Situation By Force: 2d6+2 5 Includes the bonus from Perfect Instincts. Unloading with the Sawed-Off (3-harm close reload messy) and have 1-armor. Choosing to take undeniable hold of the situation.
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Oct 19, 2018 22:03
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Typhon You and Samuel Salt watch as the fatigue-clad woman drives off to the south, back towards Mowai. Although you are both armed, neither at the moment moves to shoot the other. Instead, Salt speaks. "I ain't seen shootin' like that in a long time, and I ain't seen witchery like that in a lot longer. I'll be honest wit ya, I came down here plannin' on encouraging you to give up this blockade, either with words or with lead, but to tell ya the truth? I ain't interested in neither, now. The Afphroni could use some guns like you and your crew here. Pay's good, prolly better than ya'd find out on the roads, but I get it if ya wouldn't want. Whadya say, let bygones be bygones, or you wanna make this war hot again?" He spits on the ground, a little saliva and a little blood. Seems that psychic wave hit him just as hard as everyone else. What do you do? Burns You and Spc. Jackson take off back down the Demon Road, in pursuit of your strange compatriot. Something about the road seems... different. The sky is redder than you've ever seen in the evening, and both you and Jackson are a little on edge, snipping at each other over minor things like a couple of gossiping schoolgirls. And then, you reach Mowai Circle. When Liliana discharged the psychic wave across the Demon Road, you saw it spread in both directions: one wave north towards the blockade and Afphron's Crossing, and the other south towards Mowai Circle. And here, on a hill overlooking the town, you see what it has done. All that anger and hate soaked into the Demon Road like grease in a sponge, released and sent flying down the road, taking root in the first minds it could find. Mowai is burning. From up here you can see flames and the shapes of people running: some away from the fire and violence, some towards it to spread it further. Smoke billows into the air, and like a constant rhythm you can hear the pops and rat-tat-tats of gunfire. Jackson looks at you, her eyes wide with shock. "Well, what's the plan?" What do you do? Torch The bones grab onto your combat boots and manage to yank one off as you clamber into the rafters of Greenpool Restop. Below you, somewhere, should still be Dirt Home's cache of supplies that the people of Old Machine so desperately need. But how to get them, you have no idea. The bone waves continue to crash against the walls and the counters, with each strike crashing just a little higher, slowly reaching towards you. You look around frantically, trying to find anyway out of this situation. An idea strikes you, although you hope you can find a better one before it becomes too late. The bones, you reason, are craving things, hungry for the signs of life that were stolen from them on that day. That's why they let you go when they wrestled the boot from you. Maybe, just maybe, if you were to abandon more poo poo, you'd be able to keep them distracted just long enough to get the hell out of dodge. Of course, that means losing more of your poo poo--and it means leaving Dirt Home's cache behind, too. Maybe there's some better way of calming the churning morass, but it's gonna take a hell of a lot of ingenuity on your part. What do you do? Triage Jagoff looks at you cocks his head, and pulls the trigger. Everything is a flash of pain as the slug strikes you in the side, but somehow you manage to keep yourself upright, the adrenaline keeping you alive for now. You squeeze the trigger of the sawed-off shotgun and your ears ring from the cacophony. A spurt of blood in front of you and a thick meaty thud as Gang-Of-One's arm gets blown the gently caress off, knocking hir back into the fire. Ze screams and falls to the ground, thrashing and crying in pain but not dying. Jagoff, caught in the middle of reloading, looks up at you in awe. "Aye that's the way it's gonna be innit? Well then howsabout you and me talk, eh? Seein' as you've got the gun pointed at me and all. Or I can take just a few steps forward and get you to join us, huh? Whadya say?" Gang-Of-One continues screaming on the ground, slowly trying to scramble to hir feet, but for the moment, you have the upper-hand. What do you do? Ouch. That's a big fuckin' rifle, hitting you for 3-harm. Your 1-armor reduces that, so take 2-harm.
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Oct 29, 2018 22:17
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Cool+1 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+2 Weird-1 | 6:00 | 1-armor | 0-barter | 3-stock | x x x x > On the one hand, gently caress me that hurts. On the other, I think it pinged off one of the plates I sewed in. It'll be black and blue for sure and I'm probably looking at a few broken ribs, but poo poo. Ain't like my hand blew up again, right? Nothin' like a lovely few weeks to put gettin' shot in the side into some fuckin' perspective. I wave the sawed-off in the general direction of Jagoff's tender bits, assuming those even exist under all that flesh rot, and say, "I say you take a step forward and I'm gonna blow you in half. You wanna talk? Stay over there." I wince as the motion tweaks my side, but that's why I got the mask. Ain't gonna show weakness to these fucks, not a chance. "I go outta my way to do you lot a solid and take a look at whatever you fuckin' scooped out of the road's arse and lathered all over yourselves, and you fuckin' shoot me? You fuckin' shoot Tiny, too? Goddamn, Here-not-There was somehow the sanest of you fucks and they couldn't even figure out how jingle worked." The one on the ground ain't dead. I ain't confident that they can die, not like they are, but I also ain't thinkin' I'm gettin' back to First Response and gone without some more bullets. I'll give this gently caress one chance to walk this poo poo back and, when they don't, then I'll give 'em the other barrel and get the gently caress on outta here. I'm reloading while we talk as well, assuming nothing happens to stop it.
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Oct 31, 2018 01:43
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Cool+3 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 2-armor | 1-barter | x o o o o > Could keep feeding the thing. Not keen on walking back to the Hunter-Killer empty handed, not to mention naked. Have to find another way. Takes me a minute to see it. Sitting right on the answer. Start working my way down the beam, careful. Pull supports as I go. Some of them are already broken. Break the ones that aren't. gently caress the bones. Going to drop the ceiling on them and step all over them.
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Oct 31, 2018 03:50
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