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Hexenritter
May 20, 2001


the_steve posted:

1. B
2. EG
3. IJ


this

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JesterOfAmerica
Sep 11, 2015
1. B
2. F
3. IJ

dont be mean to me
May 2, 2007

I'm interplanetary, bitch
Let's go to Mars


1 B
2 E
3 IJ

vorebane
Feb 2, 2009

"I like Ur and Kavodel and Enki being nice to people for some reason."

Wrong Voter amongst wrong voters
1a2e3i

Lord Zedd-Repulsa
Jul 21, 2007

Devour a good book.


BC
E
IJ

malbogio
Jan 19, 2015

AB.
EH.
J.

I don’t like exposing the rest of the Ring but they can’t benefit from the Home Office’s operating license if we keep them out. Also they are tremendously useful. We can at least try to minimize their direct exposure for the time being.

Kind having the erase evidence exploit makes a lot of sense given that she’s protective of her cover but still willing to run in guns blazing.

Ruin is liable to be the most useful in the apartment; if we don’t find Drift’s hidden stash the whole thing is a bust. I’m not expecting a fight, but Mabin is the Ring’s best close quarters fighter anyway.

We have aether to burn and a stash ready to refill. Safer to use Authorize than to be stingy. And bear in mind we’re still relatively bad at lying, we just not hopeless anymore.

Kavak
Aug 23, 2009


1C
2EH Presuming he can tell if the apartment is GM'd up.
3J Make sure he's human first.

Facebook Aunt
Oct 4, 2008

wiggle wiggle




How does our deal work with regard to the Ring? We negotiated to get ourself put on the authorized freelancer list, not 4 people. If they help will they get the same deal, or just us?

Obviously there is some benefit to the ring even if only Ink is on the list, but I'm not sure how far it is reasonable to ask them to stick their necks out of a secondhand advantage.

NinjaPete
Nov 14, 2004

Hail to the speaker,
Hail to the knower,
Joy to him who has understood,
Delight to those who have listened.

- Hávamál

Facebook Aunt posted:

How does our deal work with regard to the Ring? We negotiated to get ourself put on the authorized freelancer list, not 4 people. If they help will they get the same deal, or just us?

Obviously there is some benefit to the ring even if only Ink is on the list, but I'm not sure how far it is reasonable to ask them to stick their necks out of a secondhand advantage.

As of now it is just you. Adding more people will be a whole other negotiation with Post.

the_steve
Nov 9, 2005

We're always hiring!

Come to think of it, maybe Post was expecting us to do this. Bring the Ring in "unofficially" to help us as our Ace in the Hole. That way, he's getting the services of 4 for the price of 1 and letting us think it's our idea.

NinjaPete
Nov 14, 2004

Hail to the speaker,
Hail to the knower,
Joy to him who has understood,
Delight to those who have listened.

- Hávamál


“Let’s do this,” you walk up to the lobby with Ruin following you. An electronic but soothing chime greets you and causes the guard to look up. He smiles warily at you both.

“May I help you?”

“Yes, I’m with the Mni Wičoni Water Quality Co-op, I have a meeting with one of your residents.” You show him Mabin’s tribal ID card, which you have “painted” with Aether. You attempt to hack the man’s perceptions and his understanding of what the card is, if the works he will assume you have the authority to be here and not be bothered. If it doesn’t--

“You have a meeting this late?”

He’ll ask questions.

“Well Ms..” he looks at your ID. “..Pillager, that is very unusual. Who is it need to see?”

You put away your ID. The man must be too sharp to be manipulated so easily. “Um..who? Well he’s in 315. And I actually can’t remember his name. We were at a work function you see and since he is a water guy, he told me to stop by as soon as I can. I’m from out of town and so this was the earliest I could make it.”

“Mr. Davis isn’t a..water guy.” the guard says. “Listen, I think you two better leave before I call the police.”

“I’m sorry,” Ruin says, stepping forward and holding up his id. “She’s new to this. Todd Barber, Commission of Public Safety, here’s my card. We’re working with the Water Quality Co-op to try to resolve some issues with water tables on the rez and possible pipeline issues.”

“What does Mr. Davis have to do with that? He works for 3M”

“It’s complex, it involves shell corporations and subdivisions. Suffice to say he has some personal stock tied up in this. We needed to talk to him now because the federal deadline for this filing is midnight tonight, so we have precious little time. Could you please ring us up? We just need a statement and a signature.”

The guard looks at you both suspiciously for awhile, finally he hands you a sign-in sheet.

“Be quick about it.” he says.

You both assure him you will be and you get into the elevator. As the door is closing Ruin turns towards you.

“How are you so bad at this?”

“I’m getting better!”


****



You flick on the lights, Ruin lets out a soft whistle.

The place is, quite simply gorgeous. The bones of the building is in an industrial style, pour concrete, exposed air vents, hanging lights, and massive pillars breaking up the flow of the room. Drift, whoever he was, was able to furnish the place well, light, natural wood, modern style, it screams money while trying to look simple. Like you have been plopped down in an Ikea display.

“Well, let’s get to work I guess.” you say to Ruin.



The apartment has a short hallway with an entry closet leading to a living room/office, a dining area, and a bedroom that leads into a bathroom. Not fantastic for having guests, but roomy and comfortable for a single occupant, or a couple. You think to check the mail (set in a fashionably understated bin) and see that all the letters, mostly bills or junk mail, is addressed to Tanner Davis. No other occupants then. While you are doing that, Ruin helps himself to the standing desk in the living room, rummaging through papers as he waits for the computer to warm up. You poke around the kitchen, opening drawers. Nothing out of the ordinary, though there seem to be a number of stupidly specific utensils. It looks like the most unassuming kitchen until you find the cat carcass.

It is in the fridge, splayed out on a cookie sheet. It was once a grey tabby, though it has been disemboweled and its entrails spread out on the sheet.

“Uh....I think I found something,” you call back to Ruin. You see now that the fridge is normal, fresh-ish veggies, unexpired milk. Totally normal, except for the dead cat.

“Extispicy,” Ruin says looking for your shoulder. “Divination. Drift was trying to tell the future, or get hints from the future.”

“By killing a cat?”

“Cultures have been doing it for millenia. It’s probably some sort of bizarre /help command the Machine has.”

“Can you make sense of it?”

Ruin shakes his head, “No, I don’t have the talent for it. But it does tell me something.”

“What?”

“Well, look at this apartment, it’s too neat, too clean. I’ve looked over the papers he has on his desk, they’re corporate mumbo-jumbo, nothing weird at all. This apartment is totally normal, the apartment of a very successful young business person.”

“Except for the cat leftovers.”

“Right, so he’s keeping his weirdness here. If he had a crash pad, or a safe house, he’d leave the cat there, but he is doing it here. He’s maintaining the normalcy, but the weirdness is hiding just behind the door.”

“What door?”

“I don’t know yet,” He wanders off into the bedroom. You go to the computer and find it starts up unlocked. You poke around but find only a few files connected to 3M, the company that Mr. Davis works for. You are about to check his browsing history when you stop for a moment. His default browser is Internet Explorer, or Edge or whatever. Who the hell under the age of 50 uses that? You search his computer and see that he has Chrome installed, though he has renamed it and hidden the icon. You open a window and check his history.

It seems Mr. Drift has been spending some time on Wikipedia. He has looked up “Mill City Museum”, “Wabasha Street Caves”,”Hubert H. Humphrey Metrodome” and “Fort Snelling”. All local landmarks, though the Metrodome was demolished years ago. You also see he had googled the address for the county medical examiner. Aside from those things though, Mr. Drift’s computer usage was minimal.

“Ah ha!” Ruin exclaims. You turn to see he is poking at the hallway wall near the entrance.

“What?” you ask, joining him.

“The layout is weird. You need to walk through the bedroom to get to the bathroom. That’s odd. And the bathroom is rectangular, longer than it is deep.”

“Is that..unusual?”

“A place this expensive, you don’t want to have guests walking through your room to take a dump. And the lay out of this style tends to be squares on squares on squares, no rectangles unless a load bearing beam forces one. Which this doesn’t. So..” Ruin is quite for a moment. Then he sniffs. “You sense that?”

“Aether?”

“Yeah..I think this wall is not real.” he presses a hand against it a few times. It holds firm. He wanders up and down the wall, poking it. Eventually he stops and walks over to the living room. He examines the various pop art pieces on the wall. Eventually he stops in front of a punk painting of Lady Justice. He reaches out and lifts the painting off the wall.

The hallway wall vanishes.

“‘Looks not with the eyes but with the mind; and therefore is wing’d Cupid painted blind.’ that’s Shakespeare.” Ruin says.

“Cute,” you say before turning to the newly open space.

It is like a conspiracy theorist’s den from the movies. There is a map of the metro area that dominates one wall. It is dotted with marker circles and scribbled notes. Even without investigating it you see that most of the notations are along the river. A battered laptop sits on a scarred coffee table along with a pile of papers, you try to turn it on but it is password protected. There are two large filing cabinets as well, though they are locked. It looks like a non-standard lock too, something heavy duty.

“Careful!” Ruin hisses. “It might be booby trapped.”

You carefully let go. He’s right. If Drift went to all this trouble to hide the room, he’d likely have defenses as well. Besides, trying to force it would be loud and you have no idea how soundproof these walls are. Instead you turn to the pile of papers on the coffee table. The look like the refuse one accumulates on long surveillance trips, fast food and gas receipts, the occasional scribbled note on a scrap of paper.

“Guard makes 45 min rounds”,
“What are the conditions?”
“Need to see the body! Need the effects!”
“Need: clothes, cash, contacts @ location.”
“will cover hold? Check HO resources”
“Where 2 start?”

On their own, these notes mean nothing, they may prove useful, or useless. Either way, you make sure to look at them all carefully, committing everything to memory. Eventually you come to something very promising.

“I, Wyatt Olsen, give the bearer of this paper the right and authority that I have as a sewer inspector for St. Paul Municipal from 2/23/18 to 3/23/18.”

Under that is a series of occult sigils and symbols. You hand it over to Ruin.

“Is this some sort of Pact?” Ruin asks.

“It’s called a Facade,” you reply. “They were big in the 70s, though people use them today stil. You make a Pact with a moral for something trivial, and even that is temporary. Instead of patching it to a Cover, you use it to make a temporary flimsy Cover.”

“That doesn’t sound too secure.”

“It’s not. So, in this case, this is a Pact that Drift can use to become a generic municipal water worker. Not Wyatt Olsen, not working for the sewer, just a bland-looking guy with the right uniform. Any sort of investigation and it’ll fall apart.”

“But, if you need to poke around places and not be bothered...”

“It’s nice for that,” You look around the room and wander to the map. “I thought there’d be more. His findings, notes, something.”

“Maybe they are in the cabinets, or the computer.”

“Maybe..” you see a number of small Xs along the riverbank. It looks as though Drift was moving from southeast to northwest. He started with the area around Pig’s Eye Lake, and got past the airport before the Xs suddenly stop. He has circled the Street Caves and, after you search for them, Mill City, the stadium, and Fort Snelling. He has made numerous other notations all over the map, though they make even less sense than his other notes.

“Pattrn local vs temprol?
“End # significant?
“Connectin for 4.”
“Banks/John knows, trust?”
“1927-1991=????”

“It’s getting late,” Ruin says. “We probably need to leave soon. The guy downstairs will be suspicious if we don’t. What’s the plan?”

1 Do we leave now, or try to spend more time in here?
A Leave Now and put everything the way it was, we can return with some plan to break open those cabinets later.
B Leave now, but go unlock the balcony window so we can get it later.
C Let’s stay here, we’ll try to deal with the guy if we need to, we need those cabinets open now.
D Something else?

2. What do we do in the morning? (Any items that have a majority of votes will be put in our to-do list, though they may take time)
E take the laptop with us, we’ll try to get a cult member on it
F Use the Facade to explore the riverfront
G Go to the medical examiner and see whatever body Drift was interested in
H Report to Post, see if he has any idea what is going on,
I Send intel out to your contacts, have them chase down leads (who, and what do you send them?)
J. Something else.

________________________

So, we tried to use Authorized and it fizzled. We then tried to fast talk him, and I burned a willpower. The dice were against us and we failed that. LUCKILY, we brought the Ring member who has had to talk his way past guards before so Ruin helped us squeak by.

We needed ten successes to get access to the secret room, and we got them quickly thanks to Ruin’s exceptional success with the dog.

All voting is Approval Voting unless noted.

CYOA Discord Server - If you have questions feel free to ask in the thread or here.
Rules: From Kickstarter Preview
Character Sheet
World Map
Dice Rolls
Conspiracy/Plot Board
Offical Playlist

NinjaPete fucked around with this message at 22:20 on Apr 17, 2018

the_steve
Nov 9, 2005

We're always hiring!

1. BA
2. EFG

Kavak
Aug 23, 2009


1AB
2EG

JesterOfAmerica
Sep 11, 2015
1. AB
2. EG

Toughy
Nov 29, 2004

KAVODEL! KAVODEL!

Can we ping the apt using that supernatural sonar?

Facebook Aunt
Oct 4, 2008

wiggle wiggle




1 B

2 EFG

malbogio
Jan 19, 2015

B
EGJ: Reach out to Banks.


Rather glad we brought Ruin.

From the dates we are probably either dealing with an ancient monster or time travel. Hoping for the former but suspecting the latter; if time travel is involved this could go sideways real fast.

I assume we tidy up in addition to unlocking the window. Getting past guards with teleportation and/or invisibility is more our style than this lying business.

Mabin and Banks might get along like PB & J if he’s as anti-authoritarian as he seems.

NinjaPete
Nov 14, 2004

Hail to the speaker,
Hail to the knower,
Joy to him who has understood,
Delight to those who have listened.

- Hávamál

Toughy posted:

Can we ping the apt using that supernatural sonar?

We could, though Ruin already has. Presumably the only oddness is the wall.

Toughy
Nov 29, 2004

KAVODEL! KAVODEL!

Can we pocket the laptop?

vorebane
Feb 2, 2009

"I like Ur and Kavodel and Enki being nice to people for some reason."

Wrong Voter amongst wrong voters
1b, but sneak back in through the balcony immediately, once the guard sees us leave 2eg

Lord Zedd-Repulsa
Jul 21, 2007

Devour a good book.


AB
EGH

NinjaPete
Nov 14, 2004

Hail to the speaker,
Hail to the knower,
Joy to him who has understood,
Delight to those who have listened.

- Hávamál

Toughy posted:

Can we pocket the laptop?

Yes, our bag is big enough to stick it in. We can't like, reverse-In My Pocket it though.

Facebook Aunt
Oct 4, 2008

wiggle wiggle




NinjaPete posted:

Yes, our bag is big enough to stick it in. We can't like, reverse-In My Pocket it though.

In My Pocket takes existing things from the world though. Could we later get a dufflebag and pull his particular file cabinet out of it? lol

Toughy
Nov 29, 2004

KAVODEL! KAVODEL!

NinjaPete posted:

Yes, our bag is big enough to stick it in. We can't like, reverse-In My Pocket it though.

Either way we should take it. Then leave everything else the way we found it.

Crazycryodude
Aug 15, 2015

Lets get our X tons of Duranium back!

....Is that still a valid thing to jingoistically blow out of proportion?


Facebook Aunt posted:

In My Pocket takes existing things from the world though. Could we later get a dufflebag and pull his particular file cabinet out of it? lol

In My Pocket only works on generic items, I think. So we can pull a filing cabinet out of a bag, but not this filing cabinet. I think the one that does an equivalent exchange of mass and takes some time is the one that can pull specific items.

NinjaPete
Nov 14, 2004

Hail to the speaker,
Hail to the knower,
Joy to him who has understood,
Delight to those who have listened.

- Hávamál
You check the balcony sliding door and unlock it. This high up no one would try to get for a simple B&E, at least not in this neighborhood. Being able to sneak in without having to deal with the security guard outweighs any minor chance that someone else would attempt to break in. Maybe next time you can come with a lock pick, or someone with a bit more skill at larceny.

“Let’s go,” you say stuffing the laptop into your bag. You also put the Facade in, and again take a good long look at Drift’s notes and maps. When you are ready Ruin replaces the painting of Punk Justice and the wall reappears, as solid as before. As you ride down the elevator you ask Ruin how he thinks that secret room works.

He shrugs, “It could be any number of things. A spatial and temporal duality, or a quantum superposition for example.”

“Oh, yeah. Obviously.”

“It means the wall both exists and doesn't exist. Like Schrodinger's Cat. The wall is hooked up to some sort of Infrastructure that is in charge of writing reality around it. The wall exists when the painting is up, and it doesn’t exist when the painting is down.”

“How would that even work? It can’t be both right?”

“I mean, I don’t know enough about quantum physics to give you an answer beyond ‘Well Actually..’ so I apologize for that. Just think, for now, that reality has splintered around the wall, and in one the wall exists, and in the other, it doesn’t.”

The elevator deposits you at the ground floor and you nod curtly at the guard when Ruin says goodbye.

“So, next moves?” Ruin asks when you step out of the building.

“I’m going to get someone to look at this laptop, meanwhile I’ll stop at the Medical Examiner.”

“Why there?”

“It’s the last lead Drift was following up on. Might give me an idea of where he was heading.”

“You need back up for that? For, you know..social stuff.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

***

In the morning you decide to outsource the computer job. You are skilled enough with a computer that you could maybe force it open, but it would take a long time and might not actually work. Instead, you put in in the hands of your cult. Moroni has proven himself adept at finding people with questionable morals, so he might easily find a black hat. Tara meanwhile has, on occasion used her connections at the University to help you. She doesn’t enjoy it much, but she is still yours for ten months.

1. Who do we have try to find someone to crack the laptop?
A Moroni
B Tara

You package the laptop up carefully after writing a note explaining you need it unlocked but not touched beyond that. When you are ready you gather your supplies and head out. After dropping the laptop off at a local courier (you try to avoid face to face discussions with your cult unless needed) you hop on a bus and head east.





The Ramsey County Medical Examiner building is a squat, one-story beige construction. Fortress-like windows look out like suspicious old men at the cars and buses skittering by on 35E. You cinch your jacket’s belt tight and cross the parking lot at a trot, your hair fanning out behind you. Today you have let Mabin’s hair out, as you find that government officials tend to react a little more positively when you don’t have the braids. You suspect there is some sort of ingrained guilt these people develop once they are sworn into office that makes them hyper alert for Indians. Plus, you were here last August for a prayer circle for Savanna Greywind’s murder* and you don’t want to stand out in anyone’s memories. So today you have gone for “vaguely ethnic” and hope no one asks too many questions.

Don’t lie. Don’t stretch the truth. Say a little as possible. you repeat to yourself as you enter the building. The waiting area is surprisingly nice, it takes you a moment to realize that is probably for the sake of grieving families. Waiting to take possession of your loved one’s remains is nearly unbearable, perhaps having easy access to a Keurig makes it better. You think about palming some of the cups, but realize that would be morally wrong. Plus there are cameras. The area is separated into distinct sections, each with some privacy. A circular receptionist desk lorded over it all. You walk up and smile at the receptionist.

“Hello,” you say. You find you are speaking more softly than you otherwise would. “I am here to see a man about a body.”

“Excuse me?”

You slid over your driver’s license,keeping one finger on it as you attempt to alter her perception of it. You say nothing. No point in adding more risk. The receptionist glances down at your licence then back up at you as her eyebrows raise slightly.

“I’ll call Dr. Mcgee up right away Doctor.”



***

Mike Mcgee is a tall and lanky man with jughandle ears, coke bottle glasses, and the dumbest name you have ever heard. For a moment after meeting him you are tempted to ping him in case this is some trap set by the Machine. But even the Machine wouldn’t name someone Mike loving Mcgee**.

“Don’t get many CDC people down here.” Mcgee says.

Don’t lie. Say a little as possible.

“I bet.” you reply.

“Are we talking about some sort of contagion here?”

“I don’t think so. I am just following up on a hunch.”

Mcgee nods and swivels on his stool. You are in the office adjacent to the main “examination” room. Mcgee has plastered the walls with anatomical charts, autopsy photos, and pictures of his chocolate lab and family. The contrast is disquieting. His desk is neatly organized chaos, piles of papers that, in some bizzare Mike Mcgee world, make logical sense. After a moment he pulls out a manila folder and hands it to you. You open it and see a rather indecipherable medical form, along with some photos of a body on the examination table. It appears to be a white male, late 20s or early 30s. Close cut blond hair, clean shaven. Nothing unusual. Except for the bullet wounds in his back.

“Could I see the body itself?” you ask.

Mcgee raises an eyebrow, “I...I’m sorry. It’s already been cremated. Doesn’t the out-take form list that?”

You make a show of looking back at the file and seem to find what you are looking for, “Ah, right. Must have missed it. Cremated you say?”

Mcgee leans back in his chair, “Yeah, standard protocol with these John Does after a certain time period. We actually delayed it when the cop showed up but--”

“Cop? What cop?”

“Oh, about a week ago we had a cop come by asking if there were any JDs brought in recently. It’s standard to have an investigation with a gun death like this, but this was days after the body was brought in.”

“And this was the only one?”

“Yeah, so he poked around, took a look at the body and his personal effects, and headed out. “

“What was the cops name? What did he look like?”

Magee is quiet for a moment. “You know...I don’t remember. I mean I know he was a cop, but I can’t picture him now..”

Another Facade. you think.

You close the folder and look at Magee. “What are your impressions of the John Doe? I don’t want to go off of some form, but what did you think? Anything odd about it? About where it was found? It’s condition? Anything?”

“Well, I mean it’s a fairly normal white male. Average weight, a little on the short side, uncircumcised. Probably lower income, or at least grew up poor. No broken bones..”

“Why do you say lower income?”

“Teeth. He doesn’t have any orthodontic work. People tend to not have any dental work only if they can’t afford it.”

“What about where the body was found?”

“Well, it was found in the Street Caves, though it had already been dead for about 2 hours before some poor bridesmaid stumbled onto it during a wedding reception. I’m no cop but..it might have been dumped rather than killed there. Feel bad for the newlyweds though.”

“And cause of death?”

“Small caliber handgun. We sent bullet fragments out for testing, but those take awhile. He was shot in the back from close range, though not point blank. First bullet went into his right lung, collapsing it, second one got him in the heart.”

You are quiet for a moment, trying to think through your options.

“You sure this isn’t related to a...disease? Or something?”

“The cop looked at personal effects? Do you still have them?”

Magee does still have them. He has held onto them in the vain hope that some detective will come and take them off his hands in some legal way to appease his guilt. The effects, as they are, don’t amount to much. A wood-handled pocket knife, a few hand rolled cigarettes, and, surprisingly, a pile of money. The bills are crisp and new-feeling, a sharp crease where they were folded in half, but smooth beyond that. They even small new. Which is why their appearance troubles you.



It might be some sort of counterfeit or a collectors item, you don't know enough about old money. But a wad of cash from the 1920s is enough to trigger your “weird poo poo” meter.

2 What should we do next? (If they don’t directly conflict, we can do more than one)
C Grill Magee more, he might know more than he is letting on.
D Try to pocket one of the bills
E See if there is any camera footage of the cop
F Call Alex, see if she knows anything about this murder, or anything similar
G Contact Banks
H Check out the Caves
I Do something else (what?)

3 Do we have our gun on us?
J No, we don’t carry it unless we’re drat sure we’ll need it.
K Yes, it’s part of our standard kit at this point.


_______________________________________________________


All voting is Approval Voting unless noted.

CYOA Discord Server - If you have questions feel free to ask in the thread or here.
Rules: From Kickstarter Preview
Character Sheet
World Map
Dice Rolls
Conspiracy/Plot Board
Offical Playlist



* Savanna Greywind (:nms:)

** Mike Magee is the name of the actual ME in St. Paul. If you are Mike Magee or if you know him I apologize for mocking such a ridiculous name in such a fashion.

Kavak
Aug 23, 2009


1A
2DEF
3K
Now why would you ask such a thing? :tinfoil:

Outrail
Jan 4, 2009

www.sapphicrobotica.com
:roboluv: :love: :roboluv:

Kavak posted:

1A
2DEF
3K
Now why would you ask such a thing? :tinfoil:

Yeah, good question.

sheep-dodger
Feb 21, 2013

ADFHJ
I assume Mabin spent some time with Alex during the time skip, so we don't just hit her up if we want something. (also I guess we have to have done so, since I'm pretty sure mentoring her looking into the supernatural won out)
So get a bill for "further testing for foreign/unknown stances", check out the caves and meet Alex for dinner.

Facebook Aunt
Oct 4, 2008

wiggle wiggle




A
DFH
K



NinjaPete posted:


“You need back up for that? For, you know..social stuff.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

LOL, burn.

malbogio
Jan 19, 2015

A. Seems both safer and more considerate. It’s more fun as a demon to bring people to believe in our point of view than to twist arms.
EFG. The bill is real. Timemischief confirmed. Infant circumcision didn’t start to catch on in the US until after WWI and it picked up to 90% in the 1950’s. Let’s not stumble into a time portal before we’re ready.
J. Reminder: We are more deadly with our hands than a gun, federal buildings often have metal detectors & cops, and we’re a bad enough liar that being caught with it could land Mabin behind bars rather than solving cases.

malbogio fucked around with this message at 10:42 on Apr 22, 2018

dont be mean to me
May 2, 2007

I'm interplanetary, bitch
Let's go to Mars


malbogio posted:

A. Seems both safer and more considerate. It’s more fun as a demon to bring people to believe in our point of view than to twist arms.
EFG. The bill is real. Timemischief confirmed. Infant circumcision didn’t start to catch on in the US until after WWI and it picked up to 90% in the 1950’s. Let’s not stumble into a time portal before we’re ready.
J. Reminder: We are more deadly with our hands than a gun, federal buildings often have metal detectors & cops, and we’re a bad enough liar that being caught with it could land Mabin behind bars rather than solving cases.

Second.

Toughy
Nov 29, 2004

KAVODEL! KAVODEL!

malbogio posted:

A. Seems both safer and more considerate. It’s more fun as a demon to bring people to believe in our point of view than to twist arms.
EFG. The bill is real. Timemischief confirmed. Infant circumcision didn’t start to catch on in the US until after WWI and it picked up to 90% in the 1950’s. Let’s not stumble into a time portal before we’re ready.
J. Reminder: We are more deadly with our hands than a gun, federal buildings often have metal detectors & cops, and we’re a bad enough liar that being caught with it could land Mabin behind bars rather than solving cases.

agreed
Some quick Google sluething reveals that the bank and branch of issue we're from New York state issued in 1902.

Ask what he was wearing.
In the ME professional opinion was the man suffering from anything before death, malnutrition, scurvy, any pox marks? That we can ask as CDC.

Look over the file for any tattoos or other oddities of the body, we could ask but the file is right there.

Toughy fucked around with this message at 12:11 on Apr 22, 2018

the_steve
Nov 9, 2005

We're always hiring!

1. B
2. CFH
3. J

JesterOfAmerica
Sep 11, 2015
1. B
2. CFH
3. J

vorebane
Feb 2, 2009

"I like Ur and Kavodel and Enki being nice to people for some reason."

Wrong Voter amongst wrong voters
1a2ce3j

NinjaPete
Nov 14, 2004

Hail to the speaker,
Hail to the knower,
Joy to him who has understood,
Delight to those who have listened.

- Hávamál
“Mr. Magee,” you say, turning to the man leering behind you. “Is this all there is?”

“Excuse me?”

“This bag of possessions, nothing else?”

“No.”

He’s lying. He is avoiding eye contact, closing himself off, and seems more uncomfortable than he was a moment ago. He’s not a particularly good liar, an it shows.

“What about the clothes?”

“His clothes?”

“Yes, the clothes he came in.”

“Burned with the body I'm afraid.”

You sigh and put the wad of bills back in the bag. As you do so, you skim the top one off the stack as your body blocks his view. You carefully fold your hand and stick it in your jacket pocket in what you hope is a casual gesture, you stuff your other hand in your jacket pocket as well and shoot Magee a look of annoyance.

“Mr. Magee, you’re lying.”

“What? No, I--”

“You are. Now, I don’t care that you did, and I don’t care about your reasons or any sort of ethical dilemma. But, whatever you are hiding, I need you to consider if it’s worth a possible viral epidemic to keep hidden.”

“I thought, this man was just shot.”

“He was, but the circumstances that led to him being shot, and who he is and where he went are of vital importance. I need to back track his trail, and right now whatever you are hiding from me is keeping me from doing that. So again, how big of a risk are you willing to take?

Magee licks his lips briefly. “It...it’s just a record.”

“A record? A record of what?”



“Robert Johnson, one of the greatest, earliest blues men of all time.” Magees opens a drawer in his desk and, reverently, takes out a surprisingly small black disc. The sight of it solidifies the ridiculousness of the whole situation and you purposely roll your eyes. Magee either doesn’t notice or chooses to soldier on, “I’m a bit of a collector. And, well I showed the cop the record and he had no interest, he didn’t seem to think it was worth anything, which is ridiculous, but I thought...”

“You’d just help yourself to a dead man’s possessions?”

“N-..yes. I mean....listen this, I don’t want to sell it or anything. It belongs in a museum!”

“Really? Why?”

Magee grins. “Well, Johnson’s first known recording was in 1936 in a hotel room. But this,” he holds up the record delicately, “This is from 1927. Eleven years earlier. He was only sixteen when this was recorded! This is possibly the...the..Ur-record! The first real rock and roll record, if we get this into the hands of some experts we might be able to hear blues and rock separating and forming!”

“So...this record is an aberration?”

“Majorily! Again, he was sixteen at the time, and making a living as an itinerant musician, where and when would he have had time to get a professional recording? This was the time when he was building a legend, the time when he sold his soul to the devil!”

“Excuse me? Sold soul to the devil?”

“Yeah,” Magee wipes a bit of spittle away from the corner of his mouth. “The old legend, a man meets the devil at a crossroads at midnight, sells his soul in order to become the greatest guitar player in the world. That story originates with Johnson.”

“So, this record, that should exist, was made by a man who apparently sold his soul to the devil.”

“Well, uh, that’s the story.”

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, “Do you have cameras here?”

***

There are cameras. You are able to help Magee pull the relevant video files off a cloud server. Eventually you find footage of the cop (who are are assuming is Drift) visiting. The “cop” is utterly bland. White skin, dark hair, cop moustache. The uniform looks out of central casting as well. Not too helpful, but what is interesting is what happens after the cop walks out of the building. The parking lot camera catching him walking to the far side of the lot and getting into a dark colored vehicle. You cannot see any markings, and the video quality is too poor to see the plate. Still as the car pulls out you see a second man lean out of the passenger window and spit. You freeze the video and try to make sense of the blurry blob that represents the head and shoulders of the passenger. Long hair and something on the face. It looks like, bizarrely, an eyepatch.

1. Do we attempt to take that record from Magee?
A Yeah, might be important.
B No, let the little nerd have his record.

You are out of the building after making a hasty excuse and headed toward the bus stop. You call Alex and, annoyingly, get her voicemail. She may be working and have her phone on silent. This just means you need to leave a message, you ask her about the one-eyed man, if she or any of her old cop buddies have run into him. You also ask about crimes of weird stuff around the Caves. You try to keep the details vague, not necessarily for Alex’s sake, but for the sake of anyone who might be listening.

You don’t have all the pieces, but it seems clear to you that the Caves are some sort of nexus, area of influence, or portal. Perhaps temporal, perhaps interdimensional, you have no idea. Drift must have found it on his explorations and....vanished? Used it? Again, you have no idea. Maybe it was a one time thing, maybe it is like a door that is constantly open. Though, it shouldn’t be that? Or people would be vanishing all the time? Drift seemed to have a partner in this, who may or may not have more information. There also may be intel on Drift’s computer, or in those filing cabinets, which you still need to figure out how to get into.

As you are pondering this, Alex calls back.

“Hey, I got your message, and I don’t even have to ask anyone about ol’one eye. That’s Lee Fenway.”

“Do you know him?”

“Not personally, but I’ve heard stories. Semi-homless roustabout that hangs out around the river. SPPD has to escort him out of Fort Snelling, public works, or private property semi regularly. He’s never too happy about it.”

“Is he dangerous?”

“Why? Are you planning to chase him down?”

“He might be a witness to something, missing person. From my ‘neighborhood’.”

“Right. Well, I don’t think so. I’ve heard about him getting picked up for public nuisance, or just being drunk, maybe a B and E, but nothing violent.”

“You know where he lives?”

“I did look that up for you. Last known address, St. Paul Marina. Lives on a houseboat.”

“What about weirdness around the Street Caves?”

“Not off the top of my head. I mean, there’s ghost stories and stuff. Tourists wandering around and suddenly finding themselves talking to John Dillinger or walking into a speakeasy. But that’s just touristy crap right?” she pauses. “It’s not just touristy crap is it?”

“No idea yet,” you say. “I’ll let you know when I know more.”

“Please don’t get shot by the ghost of John Dillinger.”

“I won’t.”

“He didn’t even die here, why would his ghost be here?”

“Love you, gotta go.”

“Love you too.”

You ruminate on that as you pull up the webpage for the Wabasha Street Caves. You scroll through it, noting that there are guided tours every 3 hours, a full restaurant, a ballroom for weddings, and swing dancing tonight.

2 What do we do next?
C Go home until we get that laptop back, we need more information.
D Report to Mr. Post. We did all that we can reasonably do.
E Go back to Drift’s place and break into those cabinets (how?)
F Drop in on Lee Fenway
G Take a guided tour of the Street Caves
H Wait until tonight and go swing dancing with Alex
I Something else?



_______________________________________________________


All voting is Approval Voting unless noted.

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JesterOfAmerica
Sep 11, 2015
1. B
2. HG

dont be mean to me
May 2, 2007

I'm interplanetary, bitch
Let's go to Mars


1 B W1 (Call up Kind's cover, see if she can exhibit the record; use our best 'it's better if I don't know if you're lying, Kind' voice. If 'yes', put her in touch with Dr. Magee, or pass on the offer ourselves; Mabin probably doesn't need fifteen squirrels' help to decide which.) Everyone has interests and almost everyone side hustles, and if he starts to think we're corrupt, well that's just how things work in his world and he probably won't want to test the mutual adverse leverage situation we'd have going.
2 F H

dont be mean to me fucked around with this message at 18:04 on Apr 25, 2018

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Facebook Aunt
Oct 4, 2008

wiggle wiggle




2GH

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