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Seems like Sasha isn't going to get to rest anytime soon. Seems like Kenji just directed a great spirit's attention to the Leblanc mess, that could be.... interesting.
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Jun 20, 2020 05:18
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Well, poo poo, I'm caught up. I caught wind of this story from the post in the Cool Zone thread, and through no small amount of effort, I mainlined the entire thing. I did skip a lot of the meta-commentary, though, as I quickly determined that most of it ended up being discarded by dint of the story being shaped through and around it, and it was getting confusing separating the actual story from the possibilities. I'm torn between a hunger for more and relief that it's no longer consuming my free time. Very, very good stuff. Shadowrun evokes some pretty powerful nostalgia for me. A group of my friends and I used to play Shadowrun in the library when I was a kid. Looks like the rules have changed some, though. You don't automatically re-roll sixes? Blasphemy. Natural limits? We rolled thirty d6s and every one of them counted!  Regardless, thank you for writing this story. I liked it a lot. And, uh. I have to share this or I'll go nuts. Every single time Kenji talks about Garbage Day, I can't think of anything but this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i7gIpuIVE3k I know it's supposed to be a horrifying event, but my mind can't ever think of it as anything but that. I'm sorry.
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Jun 20, 2020 15:13
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Gwyneth Palpate posted:Well, poo poo, I'm caught up. I caught wind of this story from the post in the Cool Zone thread, and through no small amount of effort, I mainlined the entire thing. I did skip a lot of the meta-commentary, though, as I quickly determined that most of it ended up being discarded by dint of the story being shaped through and around it, and it was getting confusing separating the actual story from the possibilities. I'm torn between a hunger for more and relief that it's no longer consuming my free time. Very, very good stuff. Hey, I'm glad that you enjoyed my books. Welcome to the thread. I'm working on another update for this and my other CYOA and I hope to have it soon, but whenever I name a date I never make that date. So I won't say when exactly. Also you must have really binged them because the posts from the thread haven't been there that long. quote:Shadowrun evokes some pretty powerful nostalgia for me. A group of my friends and I used to play Shadowrun in the library when I was a kid. Looks like the rules have changed some, though. You don't automatically re-roll sixes? Blasphemy. Natural limits? We rolled thirty d6s and every one of them counted! I played so many hours of the Sega Genesis game when I was a kid and would repeatedly beat it over and over again. Played the hell out of the matrix game. Even did the secret matrix mission for the Shiawase plant by getting the right code. It was a neat Easter egg. quote:Regardless, thank you for writing this story. I liked it a lot. You're very welcome. quote:And, uh. I have to share this or I'll go nuts. Every single time Kenji talks about Garbage Day, I can't think of anything but this: Welp. That scene. It's just ingrained in goon lore. I've seen it enough. I'm a horrible nerd. That might have had an effect. I'm sorry. Garbage Day is also a kind of allegory for what it's like to be crushingly poor. There's 90k people in the ACHE and enough money is allocated to feed 60k of them. People start starving the closer they get to the end of the month. Sure they could get gruel and eat to survive, but that's not how people work. You want to enjoy what you eat even if you go hungry. And poverty changes your mind permanently while people who think they know better tut tut over having any luxuries instead of starving. And so near the end of the month, everyone starts scrambling and fighting over scarce resources. Then everyone gets fed on the first, but the garbage has piled up on the third. All the trash gets burned, all that waste killing the weakest. So there's this never ending cycle of poverty, never ending cycle of feast and famine, never ending cycle of death and renewal and violence. And even if they did feed everyone by eating gruel, funds would just get cut even more. No point in trying. You see the end result of austerity as violence. Because the horrible violence could be lessened significantly with more access to resources. But then the government wouldn't be able to get rid of its poorest in the most callous way possible.
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Jun 20, 2020 15:33
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Julie, Fuzzy, Kenji, Sasha, Chip, Monkey and Dragonslayer- Time is Meaningless - Denny Park Construct After a quick chat with Monkey, which did not make Sasha happy, the construct left by Oracle either became much bigger or they became much smaller. Clouds were summoned and so Julie, Fuzzy, Kenji, Sasha, Chip and Monkey all hovered above the construct of the Denny Park massacre. But between a few changes, the once horrible scene had the horror almost completely sucked out of it by becoming abstract. In fact, most everyone was enjoying the feeling of flying more than looking down, at least for the moment. One more than most. “I like my cloud,” said Fuzzy. “Clouds are the best way to travel,” said Monkey. “Can I take one home?” “Sorry kiddo, you can’t,” said Monkey, “You know you can levitate if you know the right spell though, right?” “I can do that,” said Julie, “It’s not hard to levitate yourself. Levitating yourself quickly is the hard part.” “I can’t even do that. I don’t do normal spells,” said Kenji, “My magic is all internal.” “Speaking of internal,” said Sasha, “You all right, Kenji?” “I’m good,” said Kenji, “Oracle put me through some weird poo poo, but I’m chilling on the cloud now. Just don’t make me run or anything.” “Oracle said you’d be fine, so you’ll be fine,” said Fuzzy. "Yeah," said Kenji, "Just don't want to move a lot is all. Anyway." “Anyway!" said Fuzzy, "I can do spells and summon and have adept powers. It’s really neat. “Yeah, you’re kind of bullshit like that,” said Kenji. “Hey, don’t call my girlfriend bullshit,” said Sasha. “Sorry. Her powers are bullshit." Fuzzy didn’t seem to mind and instead sat tall and proud on her cloud. “She can’t astrally project though,” said Chip, “She can do basically everything but that.” Fuzzy’s proud posture slumped a little and she cast a stink-eye at Chip, who puttered past her on his own cloud. “Okay, so her powers are slightly less bullshit,” said Kenji, “Hey, Monkey, why does Fuzzy get shaman powers and adept powers, but can’t astrally project. Isn’t that kind of bullshit?” Monkey’s cloud turned around so he could look at them, but kept drifting forwards. “She won the genetic lottery,” said Monkey, “I mean you all did, but she won it twice. Once to become a spellcaster and summoner, and not everyone can do both of those, they’re actually sort of rare. Then once to become an adept. But because adept magic is mostly body magic, she’s rooted in her body. If she wasn’t, her adept magic wouldn’t work. ” “I can change shapes now,” said Fuzzy, “So I’ll be able to fly...Uh...Eventually.” “How’s that working out for you?” asked Julie. Fuzzy cleared her throat and her cheeks colored pink. “I can turn into a wolf, but I’m still trying to figure out four legs. I’m still a little wobbly.” “I’m a master of shape shifting,” said Monkey, officially, “Just one of the many things I can teach you if you choose me as mentor. I mastered seventy-two forms. Each one was difficult.” “Hey, don’t you always have your tail in each form you take?” asked Julie. Monkey shot Julie a cool stare. “I might,” he said, “But that’s a choice.” Julie looked to Fuzzy. “Hey Fuzzy, you don’t have a tail in each new form, right?” Fuzzy fidgeted nervously, suddenly put on the spot. “I mean, only if I’m supposed to have a tail I guess," said Fuzzy, "I’m mostly just getting the wobbly legs thing down though." “Everyone starts somewhere,” said Monkey, loftily. “Yeah, I have to relearn how to move each time. It’s weird. I tried a bird, but it’s totally different and I definitely can’t fly yet.” “Careful, I’ll call you baby bird,” said Sasha. “I wasn’t a baby bird,” said Fuzzy, defensively, “Definitely an adult bird.” Sasha grinned wickedly at Fuzzy and Fuzzy wilted. “Baby Bird,” cooed Sasha. “Noooo…” groaned Fuzzy. Fuzzy covered her face in shame as everyone else cracked up. The talk was easier because the horror of the construct was dialed way down from the original. The “massacre” was no longer populated by people, but by what looked like largely featureless grey dolls, as if formed from clay. They stood about, but didn’t move. It seemed like they were waiting. “I want to nap on this cloud,” said Julie, “It’s so comfy.” “No sleeping,” snapped Sasha, “Getting you awake is a pain in the rear end.” “I nap on mine all the time,” said Monkey, ignoring her, “Take one home for your dreams though if you want, but I can’t just drop one into reality.” “Why...Why not?” asked Chip, his voice a little strangled. Monkey flopped onto his back, one hand dangling lazily off the cloud. “I mean, I could technically kit you out with one,” he said, “You can’t fly, right?” “Uh, no.” Monkey nodded. “Normally spirits of man can’t fly since you’re, you know, like metahumans,” said Monkey, “Flying is more of a spirit of air, fire or beast thing with a couple more exceptions. In your case you wouldn’t be sitting on the cloud as much as the cloud would be a part of you. If you chose a cloud that is.” Chip’s eyes widened. “I could fly?” “Spirits do all sorts of stuff metahumans can’t do,” said Monkey, “You’re pretty new to this stuff, I can tell. I think there’s a trick that you could do to swing it.” “What’s the trick?” asked Chip, eagerly. Monkey lifted a finger and opened his mouth as if to speak. Chip leaned in and so did everyone else, but Monkey lowered his finger and shook his head. “I’d be a bad mentor if I just told you. You wouldn’t learn anything or have any sense of accomplishment.” “Aww…” groaned everyone, but Chip especially. “Don’t be like that,” said Monkey, “Letting you know it’s even possible is the first and biggest step towards accomplishing anything. You should thank me.” No one thanked him. So instead, Monkey grinned the grin of someone with a secret and descended towards the crowd of mostly metahuman looking clay figurines in the model park, drifting low. “Anyway, today I’m your self-appointed guide to this mess,” he said, “We’re going to take a look at this and see what’s what.” Together, they all puttered above the riot at Denny Park, making a slow, clockwise circuit. “This is the oldest park in Seattle,” said Monkey, “One of the last surviving green spaces of this size in the metroplex. All green spaces bigger than a patch of grass with two benches facing each other are under constant threat of being shut down because they can serve as focal points for protests. But this park is the oldest in the metroplex and so people defend it pretty vigorously.” From seemingly nowhere, Monkey had produced an old-timey brochure. He was on his back on his cloud, reading from it with one hand while his other hand and one leg dangled precariously from his cloud. “It used to have a cemetery before that got removed. Used to have an elementary school, blah blah...Boring. Not relevant and not interesting.” He quickly unfolded, refolded, flipped and turned the brochure as if looking for something interesting. Then with a casual flick, he sent in spinning into the air and it winked out of sight. “How about you just tell us what we need to know?” grumbled Sasha. “I see that you haven’t been hanging on my every word,” said Monkey, “Like I said to your spirit friend here. I’d be a bad mentor if I just told you everything.” “His name is Chip,” said Sasha. Monkey considered this and nodded. “Like I said to your spirit friend, whose name is Chip, I’d be a bad mentor if I told you everything. Without struggle, there’s no growth. Adversity is what makes life fun.” Sasha harumphed. “You know, from the first chapters of your book,” said Julie, “I thought you were more into gratuitous displays of power and playing pranks. Maybe you could tell us the best...Pranks to play? If they help people out of course.” “Someone is buttering me up. You're lucky that I like that, so yes, pranks make life worth living” said Monkey, “I love pissing off people in power. Well, everyone really, but especially people with power because they have the furthest to fall. If you’re clever and quick then you can usually get away with it too. Mocking and frustrating bad people until they give up or even join you is my whole deal.” “I’m sure,” said Sasha, acidly, “Hey, do I get a boon for giving you a new toy?” “Warhawk isn’t a toy,” said Monkey, defensively, “He’s a fully grown man-child who is self-actualizing with cathartic amounts of violence against the worst kinds of people you know. But if he pans out? I will absolutely give you a boon.” Sasha paled. “Please no. I was joking.” “Too late!” said Monkey, with a laugh. Sasha sighed. “Me and my big mouth,” she grumbled, “Hey, can we speed this up? These clouds are too comfortable and we’re at risk for falling asleep.” “I suppose,” said Monkey, “Can’t have you falling asleep on me. I know, pretty colors. That’ll get your mind working.” He pointed down at the clay people on the ground. “Denny Park is mostly flat, which you can see. It’s a hundred and five acres and including the streets, just over two tenths of a square mile, which you can also see if you’re as awesome as I am,” he said, “So it’s big enough to fit a few thousand people in it, but small enough that you can’t comfortably fit tens of thousands of people in it. But if they’re willing to be uncomfortable, you can fit about ten-thousand in there if you include the streets nearby, and I do. So that’s about how many people are in the area when things go wrong.” Monkey flicked a finger and the clay people changed colors into three distinct sets. One red mass, one green mass and a blue line. “So on one hand, you have your racists, your fascists, your authoritarians, your gangers, your family values people, what’s left of the right winger religious people and the people who still believe in democracy despite the fact that they live in a dystopia,” said Monkey, “The last are the most dangerous people of all. They’re in red.” Monkey pointed to the greens. “And on the other side, you have your anti-racists, anti-fascists, punks, the tatters of organized labor, what’s left of a few religious organizations, some SINless and a bunch of super interesting sub-cultures. But also, and this is important, the people who still believe in democracy despite the fact that they live in a dystopia. Again, the most dangerous people here. They’re in green.” “Wait, the believers are on both sides? I thought they were in red,” said Julie. “They’re in red and green because they’re on both sides,” said Monkey, “And if not for a little trick of fate, you’d find some on one side, some on another or they’d stay home. Now I don’t know tons about politics. I just know enough about the contradictions to make fun of them. But the believers in this system are dangerous in different ways than someone with a gun is dangerous.” “Why’s that?” asked Julie. “The corporations and the governments use them to legitimize people that you would call police. Those police get to use violence because of people like them. They have guns and gas and truncheons and all sorts of quote unquote less than lethal weapons and they beat other people on their behalf. So the fact that they exist in your system at all allows the police and military to work on the ground. The police are in the middle by the way.” Monkey pointed to a blue line of clay metahumans in body armor. “Now normally the Knight-Errant culture is more uh...Disciplined about their violence. They still do it, but they do it in a way that allows them to get away with it. Buuuuut…” Monkey waved his fingers and there was a scattering of gold figurines that appeared in the blue. “Those are Lone Star cops because of the corporate takeover,” said Monkey, “They’re used to policing SINless areas as well as prisons. They have almost no discipline at all and are hair trigger with their violence. If you run across one of them in the city and they want to get at you, I’d suggest running away.” “But…” began Sasha, “You shouldn’t…I mean, you should...But…” Everyone looked over to Sasha as she sputtered. “You okay, Sasha?” asked Kenji. “Fine!” she exclaimed, a little too quickly, “I just need a minute.” Sasha looked frustrated. Monkey and the teens on clouds began to slow down. “Sub-cultures!” shouted Monkey, “There are so many and they’re all super interesting. Let’s take a look.” Sasha waved everyone off and reluctantly, one by one, they departed. All but Julie, who waffled for enough time to be considered awkward before forcing her cloud to putter over. “Hey,” said Julie, "Are you all right?" Sasha looked like she’d bitten into something bitter. “No,” she admitted. “What’s wrong?” Sasha pointed an accusing finger down at the crowd. No, not the crowd Julie noticed. Down at the police. “I’m watching who I used to be...Who I used to count myself among, and they’re going to gun down innocent people. Monkey said that the believers in this system are the most dangerous people and I used to be one of them. I don’t like it.” Julie sighed and sidled up to Sasha’s cloud with her own. “I used to believe too,” said Julie, “Fuzzy and Kenji? Not so much. They didn’t even have police where they used to live.” “Yeah, I mean…” said Sasha. Sasha opened and closed her mouth several times, face growing dark with anger and frustration. “And they’re doing it with people that I was taught to think of as rivals. The first thing I thought of was good, they’re finally dealt with. And I know I’m not part of them anymore. But I still believe a little and...” “And it feels like a big, confusing knot?” asked Julie. Sasha nodded glumly. Julie patted her friend on the shoulder a few times. “It sucks,” said Sasha, “I’m not part of them anymore. I haven’t been for months. But I only really figured out recently that I’m not with them anymore. I mean, I used to believe in law and order, but this?” Sasha pointed down to the figurines as they continued to change colors as Monkey continued to talk, though he was out of earshot now. “What passes for law and order loving sucks,” she said, “How is this right?” “It’s not.” “I mean, how did I think that this was right?” asked Sasha, “I know the old me and who I used to be around. We would have made so many excuses. I would have made excuses. Or maybe some people would admit it was a horrible gently caress-up and talk about talk about reform or something. I don’t know. Everything is awful. I’m awful.” “You’re not awful,” soothed Julie. “I still believe in awful things though,” groused Sasha, “I’m trying not to, but it’s this...This...Knee jerk reaction. I look at the blue line and the first thing I feel is pride and belonging and then afterwards I feel disgust and anger and alienation. What the gently caress is wrong with me?” “Maybe it’s a process,” said Julie, gently, “For you I mean.” “The process sucks,” said Sasha, “There’s so much to unpack and it’s hard to know where to start.” “Maybe read some books,” said Julie, “It’s what I do.” That made Sasha pause in thought. “Books,” scoffed Sasha. But then she paused as her anger abated. “Which books though?” asked Sasha. Julie shrugged. “Ask a teacher or a librarian, maybe,” said Julie, “You said that you want to go into the tank to get your anxiety sorted out and uh...Get cyberware?” “Yeah,” said Sasha, “I mean, there’s the whole less magic thing, but like I said earlier, I can get it back. I can deal.” “So maybe go read in the tank,” said Julie. Sasha’s mouth made a thin line. “I mean...I was going to do some more coding and design for new terminal upgrades to squeeze every nuyen I can out of the computer parts,” said Sasha, “But maybe I could do it while it’s compiling and I could hand over design to a program...” “Maybe read a little bit.” “Yeah…” “I wish I could do more.” “It’s okay.” “Talk to me if you need to talk?” asked Julie, “I mean, I came…” Julie squirmed. It wasn’t something she really wanted to talk about, but Sasha was where she’d been. At least in a way. So she closed her eyes and set her jaw. “I came from a conservative family too,” she finished, “I didn’t deal with what you’re dealing with now, obviously, but I still had to deal. I went to prison. I saw and...Felt how guards and cops can get.” Sasha’s look was pained. “And if you want talk, I’ll talk,” said Julie, “It wasn’t all bad. There were a couple cool guards. Some that just did the job. A lot of corrupt guards. But there were some seriously bad ones too.” “So the cool guards?” asked Sasha, “What did they do?” Julie shrugged. “They let us take extra snacks without writing us up, they let us have music sometimes, didn’t look too hard for contraband unless they thought there might be weapons.” “So they were cool?” “They were cool for guards. The job is the real bastard though. It keeps cool people from being actually cool and the people there to do their jobs do the job like bastards and the real bastards enjoy being bastards in a place where it’s encouraged. It’s prison. It’s not nice.” “Yeah…” Julie realized she may have said too much and smiled awkwardly. “Sorry,” said Julie, “I’m saying...I’m saying I’ll help you through it if you want. I’ve kind of sort of been where you’ve been.” “Thanks,” said Sasha, “Want to finish this up with Monkey? We still have to ask him questions, right?” “I thought you didn’t like him,” said Julie, “Why do you want to go back?” Sasha shrugged. “He’s an rear end, but he showed up at least.” “There's that, yeah,” said Julie, “Let’s go.” Sasha nodded and the two young women took a look and found their friends and Monkey on the other side of the park. They moved towards them in silence save for the puttering of the clouds as the clay metahumans continued to change colors. “Say what?” asked Fuzzy. Monkey pointed to some clay figures on clay horses on the green side. “Horse enthusiasts,” he said. “Horse enthusiasts,” said Kenji, skeptically. “Yep,” said Monkey, “The police never really stopped using horses for riot control. I think it’s a prestige thing and also people like horses. I don’t know the specifics, but it seems like there are counter-protest horse enthusiasts.” “And where are the clowns?” asked Kenji, sarcastically. “Oh, they’re over there,” said Monkey. Deep in the sea of green flashed a bright red color, distinctive from the fascists as it was accompanied by a whoop-whoop sound. “I was kidding,” said Kenji. “I’m not,” said Monkey, “Anti-fascist clowns are real. There are tons of subcultures all over the anti-fascist side and many are delightfully weird and I love them." "Why do they whoop-whoop?" asked Fuzzy. "That's complicated," said Monkey, "But the simple answer is that they like doing it. They're mostly old now, but those clowns are still around. Plus all of their many, many, many spinoff groups. People mocked them pretty viciously, but the whoop-whoop endures and so I approve." “So clowns show up to protests,” said Kenji. "They do. But I want you to think bigger. Think about it. What am I trying to teach you?” "Weird people show up to protests?" asked Kenji. “Think bigger. About everyone,” said Monkey. “That...People are different?” asked Fuzzy, hesitantly. “Yes!” exclaimed Monkey. And all of what had originally been gray, then been differentiated into red, green and blue, resolved into differently painted models, each one different from the other. “Everyone is different. Sides are just labels. No group is a monolith. They’re just made up of people and people think different things. Sometimes you get enough agreement to face some people in a single direction for a common purpose.” “Isn’t that obvious though?” asked Chip. “Not as obvious as you think,” said Monkey, “People like labels because labels are easy, but labels aren’t very descriptive. Many people assume everyone from this or that group is the same. They’re not. They’re individuals, even if this or that group likes crushing that individuality out of them, they’re still individuals. And if people get too full of themselves or start believing stupid things then I’m the kind of monkey who gives what they think a little shake and if what they believe doesn’t fall down then maybe it’s worth keeping.” “Huh,” said Kenji. “Glad you three could make it,” said Monkey, “I’ve only been imparting some sage wisdom on your friend here…” Julie and Sasha looked at each other and then realized something. “Wait, three?” asked Julie. “Yep,” said Monkey, “We got ourselves a visitor!” Monkey zoomed towards the police line flipped upside down. He extended his arm and a figure all in black, the one closest to the police line on the anti-racist side, raised his hand in return. There was a resounding clap as Monkey and the darkly clothed figure high-fived at speed. The rest of the teens stared at the stranger. “Hey D,” said Monkey, “I hoped you’d make it.” “Hey Monkey,” said Dragonslayer, “Hope I'm not too late for last call.” Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 21:40 on Jun 21, 2020 |
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Jun 21, 2020 09:29
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Everything is cooler in Monkey's DBZ (ish) brain. Even the high fives are cooler. 
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Jun 21, 2020 09:30
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Hoo boy. Dragonslayer gonna get the Scooby gang into a bunch of trouble if they choose him. Dude is never satisfied unless you're punching up.
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Jun 21, 2020 12:29
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Gwyneth Palpate posted:Hoo boy. Dragonslayer gonna get the Scooby gang into a bunch of trouble if they choose him. Dude is never satisfied unless you're punching up. It varies. Dragon Slayer is big on fighting hard - but also partying hard, recovering. He likes everything from fighting fascists to picking a cause like food insecurity in Touristville as 'dragons' to 'slay.' The form of Dragonslayer we saw in Dragonfall was bordering on Toxic until the player character manages to point their shaman at more systemic causes. And he's big on keeping promises. Which facet of the greater Dragonslayer presents itself here will have a big impact on whether Dragonslayer is a healthy influence or a more Toxic influence - because make no mistake, the Dragonslayer who pushes you to martyr yourself endlessly punching up is a Toxic aspect. I'm excited to see which this is.
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Jun 21, 2020 13:21
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Dragonslayer seems like a great match for the group and way to propel the plot forward. Depending on the aspect, every single one of the Scoobies could see something they recognize in him. Definitely excited to see what this Dragonslayer is like. And I'm looking forward to Julian's reaction. I could see him assuming they got the toxic always punch up version due to his own experiences with Firebringer.
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Jun 21, 2020 13:57
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I feel like it might have been Oracle's wheelhouse, her being about truth-seeking and all, but it would('ve been) great if one of these great spirits could restore the memories Marie erased from Sasha. It's going to be easier for her both to accept ACAB, and deal with her current situation if she knew that, yes, her dad really was that much of a dick instead of holding on to the belief he's innocent. And she deserves to know the truth dammit. 
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Jun 21, 2020 14:49
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Julie, Fuzzy, Kenji, Sasha, Chip, Monkey and Dragonslayer- Time is Meaningless - Denny Park Construct “So you’re the last to show up?” asked Monkey. Dragonslayer nodded. “Yeah, I checked with everyone else before coming,” he said, “You know how it goes. Some thought it was too presumptuous to open up to everyone, some didn’t want to show up so we all don’t look too eager, but mostly they didn’t notice due to a lack of affinity.” Julie slowly approached on her cloud along with the rest, but didn’t get too close. At least not at first. She knew about Dragonslayer. Perhaps the most famous of the spirit mentors. His deal was having fun, keeping oaths, adventure, but most importantly, slaying dragons. The dragons he slew could be actual dragons, but they tended to be more esoteric than that. From fighting evil power structures to feeding the hungry, the evils of the world were opposed by him and those who followed him. Occasionally some sort of act by this or that brave person was blamed on him as inspiration for the cause, occasionally immortalizing the doer of the deed. Though it was a lot easier to immortalize someone after they were dead. That was common too. “This all of them?” asked Dragonslayer. “Yeah,” said Monkey, “I had to find one before she got lost, but thankfully that didn’t happen.” The secret of meeting toxic Firebringer crawled up Julie’s back. She wanted to say what had happened to her, but this wasn’t the right time. Before the ritual was done, she promised herself. “Which one?” asked Dragonslayer. Julie shelved that thought for the moment and focused on Dragonslayer. She’d seen the pictures of him. The most iconic being the old paintings of Saint George slaying the dragon. She’d seen pictures of him in books. Normally he was tall, muscular and handsome and well armored on his horse, killing a dragon with a lance or sometimes a sword, but if he had lance, sword or horse, she didn’t see them. So when Monkey pointed at Julie and Dragonslayer turned to look up at her, her heart skipped a beat on pure reflex. However, the face that stared up at her was…Well, it was ordinary. In fact, Dragonslayer looked pretty plain. His clothing was largely indistinguishable from those around him, which is to say that he was wearing all black and had a black bandana around his face, dark shades around his eyes, head covered with a black helmet, black pants, black t-shirt, black coat. That seemed purposeful though. Every clay figure, now given color and distinctiveness by Monkey, normally looked distinct. Not the people on the front line closest to the police though. They largely had a similar style of dress: All black. In fact, if Dragonslayer had stepped into the crowd of clay figures, she figured she’d have a hard time finding him again. But from what Julie could see of his face, he looked startlingly ordinary. His skin tone was dark like hers, maybe even darker. His body didn’t look muscular, though it was hard to tell under his clothing. If he had any hair, she couldn’t see it under his helmet. He wasn’t handsome or ugly. He just looked… “Ordinary,” whispered Julie to herself. Dragonslayer pulled down his bandana, pocketed his shades, pulled off his helmet to show off cornrows covered in sweat. He smiled at Julie. There was something about his smile, the openness and honesty of it. There was knowing in that smile and it was full of casual daring. The very ideal of a certain kind of smile. It caught her completely by surprise. That smile made her insides turn to jelly and made her happy that she was sitting on a cloud, because her knees went suddenly weak. Monkey balled up a fist and casually punched Dragonslayer in the shoulder. “Tone down the smile, D,” said Monkey, “Sorry, he does this sometimes without thinking about it.” Dragonslayer shrugged. “I don’t mean anything by it,” he said, “Lighten up.” Dragonslayer punched Monkey in the shoulder. They laughed, turned towards one another and gave each other a hug. “Bringing out the classics, huh?” asked Dragonslayer. “Hell yeah,” said Monkey, “Even got Oracle to agree to a full Dragonball marathon, front to back. Want to come?” “Of course I do,” said Dragonslayer, “Wouldn’t miss it. How’d you get her to show up though?” “Annoyed her until she broke,” said Monkey, “And I promised her that there were deep truths in stories about me.” “poo poo, are there?” Monkey puffed himself up and flexed. “Stories about struggle, strength, perseverance in the face of adversity, zwee fighting, energy blasting, suddenly forgetting characters exist, filler arcs...” “I mean, yeah, but any deep truths?” “Hell no, I’m loving with her.” Dragonslayer and Monkey fell over each other in laughter. The display was so ordinary, save that a spirit that looked like a human was hugging a spirit that looked like a strangely dressed monkey. It was somehow inviting and so, hesitantly, everyone came down to investigate the strange, new spirit save for Julie, who was transfixed by the smile and Kenji, who stepped off his cloud. Julie wondered what he was doing as he tried to disguise his shaky legs. Steadying himself on the other clay figures with his hands, he walked forward and gave Dragonslayer a hard shove in the chest, making the great spirit take a step back. “Leave,” said Kenji, his tone flat, “Go the gently caress away.” The laughter died and there was an awkward silence. Then everyone began chattering at once. “What are you-” said Fuzzy. “Uh, Kenji?” said Sasha, “Maybe don’t…” “Oh, that’s a really bad idea,” said Chip. “Wha-What?” asked Julie, shook out of her reverie. Monkey began laughing again as he rolled around on his cloud. For his part, Dragonslayer put up his hands. Not in fists to fight, but palms up. Not in surrender, but in the kind of way that spoke of someone not looking for a fight. “Easy there,” he said, “I’m just looking to talk. I was…” “Oh I know all about you,” seethed Kenji. Kenji tried shoving him again, but Dragonslayer kept retreating without looking back, slicing through the crowd as if it didn’t exist. “Do you now?” asked Dragonslayer. “Yeah, I do!” shouted Kenji, his voice growing reedy with emotion, then he concentrated, mastering his voice, now devoid of emotion once more, “Once every year or two, some idiot or group of idiots who are all about you burn through the ACHE, wanting to change things. It’s like Garbage Day every drat day when you’re around. People pick sides. They square off. They fight and they die. People start shooting and stabbing and then don’t stop until your idiots are dead. Motherfucker, people who follow you have got a shelf-life of like a week. I’m not going to let you get my friends killed. Thanks for the interest, but I’m not interested in you. Now leave.” Monkey was still laughing, though everyone and everything else was still. Kenji whirled on Monkey, eyes cold. “What the gently caress is so funny?” snarled Kenji. Monkey stopped laughing, but he smiled at Kenji, smug and knowing, but said nothing. Then he laughed again, twice as hard as before. Kenji looked about ready to fight. Julie had seen the look in prison. Going from hot to suddenly cold and the subtle way he was shifting his weight, changing his stance and squaring his shoulders. Kenji was about to throw down with Dragonslayer despite having no chance of winning. And it was Julie’s behalf, she realized. No, not just her, but on behalf of all his friends, including her. The last of the weakness left her body. So she glided down and stepped off her cloud. She wasn’t the only one. All of her friends were descending to pull him away from the fight. Fuzzy tried to physically pull him away, as did Chip. Sasha put herself between Kenji and Dragonslayer, which was something that her anxiety ridden self most likely never would have done. Kenji wasn’t budging though. In fact, trying not to get him to fight made him only dig in more. So Julie tried a different tactic. There was strained speaking from Fuzzy and Chip through gritted teeth. Soothing words from Sasha. Julie wasn’t listening as she’d focused on what to say and realized that saying things wouldn’t be enough. She needed to act. So what Julie did instead was place a gentle hand on Kenji’s shoulder from behind. That touch transferred to his cheek, warm and inviting, despite the relative roughness of her hand. Kenji’s eyes flicked one way, but Julie kissed him on his other cheek and whispered into his ear. “It’s okay,” she whispered, “I want to talk to him. Thank you though.” Kenji was from a place where violence was commonplace. Where posturing before the enemy might make them decide that a fight wasn’t worth it. And yes, if violence needed doing, it was done. So the sudden tenderness and kindness slipped past his defenses. It was like it was from another world, completely alien to his experience and it confused him long enough that he stopped struggling, because Julie knew that he was still hurting from his encounter with Oracle. It didn’t stop him completely. Kenji reached out for Julie. He said something to Julie. All of them were saying something, but it was all confusion. It didn’t matter. Kenji was going to hurt himself if he picked a fight. “You listen,” she whispered, “I know you’re trying to take care of me. Let me take care of you. I’ll be careful. I promise.” He’d stropped struggling. Not that he’d quit, but because what she’d done to him was foreign to his experience. If it had been violence he would have understood, but tenderness won out for the moment. She slipped away because his friends were still holding him back. Only Sasha was free and the concerned look that she shared with Julie wasn’t returned. Instead Julie shook her head and smiled and approached Dragonslayer, whose hands were no longer up but on his hips.. “Hello,” said Julie, “I’m Julie. Julie Freeman.” As close as she was, she could see his face. He was indeed very plain. Like anyone you might walk by on the street. His eyes were dark brown, to match his skin, his ears were technically round, so he was human, but they had that cauliflower look of someone who’d been hit in them so often that they’d deformed. Again, something she’d seen in prison. “I’m Dragonslayer,” he said, “Pleased to meet you.” Julie realized that she’d been staring after the introduction, not knowing what to say. She felt awkward, but again, Dragonslayer smiled at her and that awkwardness melted away. Not a weak in the knees attraction this time, but an overwhelming feeling like everything was going to be okay. Not forced upon her, but an invitation that she could take or leave, as was the hand he extended. With a snap decision, she took both the feeling and the hand. Something inside of her uncoiled and she closed her eyes, luxuriating in the feeling. She needed to feel okay. And it was good. “Thank you,” said Julie. “No problem,” said Dragonslayer, “Sorry, it’s a little different each time, the feelings I give off I mean. I have to figure out with each new body. There’s a few minutes of adjustment each time. So yeah, not the smile I was intentionally trying to use..” Julie furrowed her brow. “It’s...Um...Okay, Wait, each new body?” she asked. Dragonslayer pumped her hand a few times. “Yeah, I’m currently rocking the body of a guy who body slammed a cop into the concrete in the local protests.” It was odd, feeling like everything was going to be okay while talking about bodyslamming cops. “Excuse me?” asked Julie, through her confusion. “Yeah uh, the cops had penned in some protesters and were repeatedly gassing them with CS gas for over fifteen minutes. He caught their attention for long enough that they stopped doing it and the rest were able to get away. So no one died. It was a close thing though. He got beat up pretty bad but he kept his mask on long just long enough for the crowd to pressure the cops until they retreated and a few folks rescued him. So he lives to fight another day.” From her back, Kenji spoke up. “This!” hissed Kenji, “This is how it is! We need to go right now!” Julie was unsure of what to do. Kenji was agitated again and Dragonslayer was not who she’d been expecting. “He wasn’t looking for a fight if that’s what you were thinking,” said Dragonslayer, “His girlfriend was one of the ones getting gassed. So it wasn’t some fiery display of altruism, though sometimes there’s that and it’s great when it happens. I don’t expect people to work against their own interests. In fact, I like it when self-interest intersects with fighting the occasional dragon, even if that particular dragon are cops terrorizing people. I just try and look out for my people.” “And I’m trying to look out for my people,” said Kenji, “You’re nothing but trouble. Go away.” Dragonslayer released Julie’s hand and that feeling that everything was going to be alright faded in intensity, but lingered. Julie held onto it. “I mean, I am trouble,” said Dragonslayer, “I don’t deny that. But I also do my best to defeat those dragons: Poverty, crime, war, famine, disease and yes, regular dragons. All of that and more. I want them gone. Permanently. And if people didn’t want them gone, I wouldn’t exist. In fact, I didn’t come here just because I was interested. I came here because I was called by all of you.” “I didn’t call you,” said Kenji. “You did, actually,” said Dragonslayer. “And that’s the funny part,” said Monkey, “You call Dragonslayer and Kenji here wants to ding-dong-ditch him. It’s great.” “Didn’t,” countered Kenji, from between clenched teeth. “Kenji,” soothed Julie, “Can we at least listen?” “We shouldn’t,” pleaded Kenji, “Because that’s…” Kenji licked his lips, shook his head, struggled against Fuzzy and Chip, but the fight was going out of him. “Following him is how we die. And I don’t want to lose any of you,” he finished. Kenji slumped, the last of his strength expended. A cloud zoomed under him and after some coaxing, Kenji was allowed to lay down on top of it. The gaze into himself from Oracle had taxed him and even after some rest he’d been exhausted. After this, he was completely spent. “I’ll check on him,” said Julie. “He’s just drained,” said Dragonslayer, “Emotionally, not magically. It’s okay. Feel free to check on him though.” Julie did with her magic and Chip assisted. Thankfully her diagnosis spell functioned in this place. It was just fatigue and he had a headache. He’d be fine in a while. “He’s fine,” said Julie, to everyone else, and then to Kenji, “You’re fine. Relax please. Don’t fall down.” She ran a hand over his back. He was so tense. Dragonslayer cleared his throat. “I think this is a big misunderstanding,” he said, “Kenji, I’d like to talk to you for a second.” “No.” Dragonslayer shook his head. “Kenji, I can’t leave until you dismiss me,” he said, “You’re holding me by the ear and yelling into it for me to go away. It’s not what you say, but what you do. And what you’re doing is holding me here. I couldn’t leave if I wanted to. So can we talk?” Kenji’s mouth was firm, but he nodded once, jerkily. So Dragonslayer walked up to Kenji and squatted down at eye level with him. “I am a spirit of my word,” said Dragonslayer, “I keep my oaths. All of them. Every single one. Every single aspect. The letter of what I say and the spirit of what I mean, I keep it. So listen closely please. This aspect of myself? I’m not some walking advocate for suicide or martyrdom. There are darker parts of my greater being that do advocate for those things, but that’s not me. I will always try to help. Even if that help isn’t immediately gratifying, it’s still help.” “Go,” whispered Kenji. Dragonslayer shook his head. “I can’t,” he said, “You called me. Not by what you said, but by what you did and do. Even now by resisting who you think I am, you call me. You were willing to throw down with me knowing that you’d lose for the sake of your friends. You weren’t just posturing. You were willing to fight me hand to hand in hopes that I’d beat you and that your friends would see me as some sort of monster and turn away.” Kenji turned away from Dragonslayer on his cloud, exhausted, sullen and angry. “And that’s awesome,” he said, “You have my respect. But Kenji, I’m not a monster. I slay monsters. You don’t just call out to Dog with what you do. You call out with every action you take, some more strongly than others. You call to me with what you do.” Kenji said nothing. So with a sigh, Dragonslayer rose up and looked to everyone else. “Sorry about that,” he said, “Group rituals involving me are almost always rough. I have a complicated reputation.” No one said anything for a while. Even Monkey had stopped laughing. Fuzzy began fidgeting nervously and shortly after that, she spoke up. “Hi,” she said. “Hey there,” said Dragonslayer. Another pause. “I thought you’d be taller,” she said. There was a sudden explosion of giggles, breaking the tension. “I get that a lot, actually,” said Dragonslayer. He was actually a few inches shorter than Kenji and Julie. “Yeah,” asid Sasha, “And more...Not this. I don’t know.” “You know don’t?” asked Dragonslayer. “Yeah,” said Sasha, somewhat bashfully, “Sorry, I don’t want to shame you, but…” “No, it’s great, actually,” said Dragonslayer, excitedly, “So you were expecting someone taller. Come on, what else? Who else were you expecting? Gimme your worst.” A pause as everyone looked between one another, unsure of what to say. Dragonslayer smirked and raised up his hand, palm up and made a “bring it on” gesture with his fingers. “Handsome?” asked Sasha, “Not that I’m into guys…” “I’m not always a guy,” said Dragonslayer. Stunned silence. Dragonslayer laughed and made a gesture to Monkey. It seemed to be understood because a cloud raced underneath him for him to sit on. He made sure to grab hold of it as he sat, as it tried to scoot away just as he sat. “Nice try, Monkey,” he said. “I had to try,” said Monkey, “You know how it goes.” “I know how it goes.” Dragonslayer nodded to Monkey and looked back to everyone else. “You’re not always…” began Sasha. “Who says it’s only guys that can kick rear end?” he asked, flippantly, “Or girls? Or the rest of the genders? My gender is kicking rear end. But keep going. People have got expectations. Bog standard action trideo star. What’ve you got?” “Overly muscled,” said Julie. “Not always,” said Sasha, “But yeah.” “Knows kung fu,” said Fuzzy. Everyone save for Kenji looked at her, as he wasn’t looking at anything. “Is that just me?” she asked. “It’s mostly you,” said Sasha. “I don’t watch movies, sorry,” said Chip, “Buuuut I could. Should I?” “We can watch kung fu movies,” said Fuzzy. “Yeah!” exclaimed Chip, and then a second later, “What’re those?” More laughter. “So in these stories, they solve problems with violence, right?” asked Dragonslayer. “I mean, it’s an action trid, so yeah,” said Sasha, “You don’t solve problems with violence?” “Sometimes I do,” said Dragonslayer, “I prefer not to unless I have to, but I don’t discount it either. Violence and non-violence are both in my bag of tricks. I’m usually not sprinting at full speed with a submachine gun each hand, casually gunning down identically dressed extras.” “Lame,” said Sasha. Dragonslayer laughed. Everyone else laughed too. Except for Kenji. “I mean, that does happen, but that’s not me,” he said. “Why not?” asked Fuzzy. “Never casual,” he said, waggling his eyebrows, “Always passionate. But gunning people down? That’s uh...Well, it is technically an aspect of mine, but it takes a while to get there for me. Like a long while. I’m more into collective self-defense. Preventative, at least usually. If you’re stalking off with a knife in your teeth and two guns in your hands then you’re probably interacting with a much different aspect of that much bigger part of me or possibly a completely different spirit. Most likely no spirit at all though or at least they don’t take notice. Depends on what’s in your heart when you do it.” Monkey produced more clouds. Everyone took from Dragonslayer’s cue and grabbed their clouds and sat in a rough semi-circle. Sure enough, Monkey was trying to play pranks, but he did his best to look casual. “So what happens at the end of the trids?” prompted Dragonslayer. Chip was paying rapt attention. Something new was being discussed and so his head whipped from person to person to understand. “He gets the girl?” asked Julie. “Yeah, a lot,” said Dragonslayer, “This guy though? The body I’m wearing in appreciation?” Dragonslayer hooked a thumb at himself. “He takes care of the girl,” he said, “She’s not his. Not a prize to be won. Not a cheerleader to sit on the sidelines. She was out there with an umbrella, like hundreds of others, unfolded so other people could move without getting recorded and because they help deflect rounds, especially when you’ve got hundreds of them. So she’s out there with him. He fights alongside her for what he knows is right and she alongside him. So right now, street medics are getting them treatment and he’ll stay with her for a few days by her side to make sure she’s okay and she’ll check up on him. People will see what happened to her and hear her story and come out on her behalf, not knowing who she is, outraged because that’s happening in their city. And so those anti-police protests continue to swell.” “They did what?” asked Sasha, horrified, “That much gas can kill people. It’ll send people to the hospital.” “Oh yeah,” said Dragonslayer, “Yes it can and they know it can. All of those supposedly less than lethal weapons don’t seem so less than when you keep using them over and over again Hell, even one person can die from getting gassed if it gets the wrong person. War crime gas all over the place.” “War crime gas?” asked Fuzzy. “Yeah, gas isn’t supposed to be used in wars but it gets deployed domestically,” said Dragonslayer, “Though they’ve just found more innovative ways to kill people these days than gas. But a lot of what you don’t see in the protests? Suppressed in the streets, not discussed in the media and only on social media if you know where to look, and only if someone is lucky enough to film it? War wishes it has crimes like these.” Dragonslayer was frowning now, angry, but not at them. Then he sighed. “There’s no stopping it with state or corporate violence at this point. It’s too big. But they’ll try,” he said, “And I’m off topic. What happens at the end of the trid? Does anything change?” “Sure it does,” said Julie. “What changes?” asked Dragonslayer. Julie tried to think. She hadn’t watched an action flick in a long time. But nothing other than beating the bad guys came to mind. So she shrugged. “Beating the bad guys?” she asked. “Who are a disruption to the status quo,” said Dragonslayer, “And the hero of the story labors to restore that status quo and the day is saved.” Dragonslayer closed his eyes, raised up his hands and made jazz fingers. Then stopped and pressed his palms forward in a stopping motion. “But what if the status quo is awful?” asked Dragonslayer, “No, that’s obvious, or maybe it’s not. How you deal with that depends on the times. Sorry, it’s hard to help people unlearn things. I’m not the greatest at theory. I do okay but...Wrong aspect, sorry.” “Unlearn things?” asked Fuzzy. Dragonslayer nodded. “Yeah, when you’re taught lies and want to know the truth, you have to unlearn the lies. You have to pull down the lies or you’ll always be influenced by them.” There was general agreement at this, some shrugs. Chip was eagerly nodding. “ So in this story, in which you imagine someone like me to be big, strong, handsome, lantern-jawed, guy with a sword who defeats the bad guys who want to change things, for the worse, maybe, but change at all and then restore the status quo no matter what it is, getting the girl in the process. Now how many of them do you see walking around in real life?” “Uhh…” said Fuzzy, “Not many?” “You got to be pretty to do good things?” “No,” said Fuzzy, with a smile. “Well then, don’t expect it of me,” he said, “The hero of the moment can be anyone and if it’s anyone, they can be regular people. Anyone you see passing on the street. Now...What if I tell you that there’s a good chance that Dragonslayer in your heads likely one of my toxic aspects? And that he has a sack of poo poo where his heart is.” “Uhh…” said Julie, “What?” Dragonslayer nodded vigorously. “Heroes used to be aspirational,” said Dragonslayer, “Meaning that they set the ideal and ideals are meant to be chased. You want to be like them, so you emulate the things they did. Some of them still are aspirational and so it’s only a good chance that Dragonslayer the hero is toxic, not a given. The toxic form of mine that I’m talking about? It doesn’t inspire anyone to do anything. It’s a direct appeal to an elite, authoritarian figure to restore the status quo who isn’t you. It’s a part of the greater whole of me, but I leave that poo poo at home and want nothing to do with it.” “So what are you?” asked Chip, “What’s your aspect? We got Dog the companion, we got Oracle the Pythia and Monkey as Sun Wukong. So who are you?” Dragonslayer beamed and again there was that invitation. Not to smile because he was smiling, but to smile along with him. And so she did. And she wasn’t alone. “An aspect of a greater whole,” said Dragonslayer, “My aspect is direct action and the heroism contained in every single person willing to fight for what they know is right. Every action, big or small, usually small. But when everyone does it?” He made an expansive gesture to the crowd of protesters. Not everyone who’d been highlighted in green, but definitely most of the ones in black and others as well. When pointed at individuals among the protesters and they were outlined in gold. He pointed and pointed, until he pointed at those sitting with him. Julie, Fuzzy, Sasha, Chip and even Kenji were outlined in gold. “It’s kind of a big deal,” he said, “I’m the anti-action hero. I’m willingness to do what's right contained in regular people. The we who saves us. These people call out for what I represent and I represent them in turn. That part of people that wants to destroy the chaos around them and try to build something better, because I am people and people are me. Now I’m not the greatest at building things, I got real limits. I'm sure not the smartest, but I've got the passion and the guts to do what's necessary. You'll never see me look the same twice in a row. Real limitations, like I said, but I do know my way around slaying some loving dragons.” Dragonslayer clapped his hands, laid back on his cloud and took in the sights. "So uh...What's all this?" he asked, "I don't recognize the riot and I'm usually at all of them. Which one is this?" Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 03:19 on Jun 23, 2020 |
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Jun 23, 2020 01:47
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So I thought a lot about how to portray Dragonslayer over the course of this novel. And I've been watching a lot of footage of people on the ground at the protests, starting with that first night in Milwaukee, praise be to Unicorn Riot. As well as streams as long as I could take them from other protests. And who D.S. was changed over time and I feel like this fits just right. Aspects are fun. Dog the companion, Oracle the Pythia, Sun Wukong the trickster, Afterthought the creator of cultists and finally, Dragonslayer, the spirit of direct action and the bravery of regular people. I was hung up on what he looked like for a long time, but eventually I came to the conclusion that felt right. He's a he when he's a he, she's a she when she's a she, a they when they want to be something other than that and will generally look like people on the street. Regular rear end folks. A spirit of the times. The novel has been changing in how I imagine it to evolve with the protests and I have tons of information. I don't need to exaggerate, because reality already feels like an exageration. Much of what I'll be posting in the coming months in terms of story will be taken directly from what I see on social media right now. It'll be happening on the ground. It'll be concentrated in a single place, but the majority of it will be real. I won't even need to take much artistic license save to inject the Scoobies and magic into it and then reskin it with basically the same kinds of jackbooted thugs. There's just so much to pull from. I've interviewed a number of protesters for what life is like on the ground recently and sometimes I strike gold, though oftentimes I just get little tidbits to add here and there. And what I want to portray will be the protests/riots themselves. So I'm doing my best to get on the ground first hand accounts from people who are there right now while everything is fresh. Anyway, this is evolving from my original research of Charlottesville because I feel it would be weird if it didn't. Characterization for Dragonslayer was kind of hard before, but now it's easy and I feel, true to life. I figure someone who is actually pretty average despite their bravery and willingness to use direct action. They care passionately about what they fight for and want to slay those dragons. They're not really a building up kind of spirit mentor or deep into theory. They're more getting a big group of people and stopping up the highways and squaring off with the cops, either non-violently or violently. Not looking for a fight, or at least not something ultra-violent, but ready to receive. Not just slaying physical dragons or esoteric ones like disease and hunger, but an iconoclast. Someone who tears down beliefs and institutions, and between that and fighting for what they believe is right, Dragonslayer and Monkey get along famously. The iconoclasm is a sign of the times though. There's a lot of agitation to destroy previously held beliefs and institutions right now. Let me know if you have any suggestions or if you feel like I'm missing anything. I hope that the new turn of events from exploration of Charlottesville to the protests are taken well. Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 06:25 on Jun 23, 2020 |
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Jun 23, 2020 02:20
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Kenji is not having a good time here, is he? Poor guy. He's even the one who learned how to do the ritual. His initiation is gonna be hellish.
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Jun 23, 2020 02:59
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I like the ordinary looking Dragonslayer. Makes sense and sends a nice message. And the protest you're writing being heavily influenced by the present events also makes sense.
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Jun 23, 2020 03:04
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Gwyneth Palpate posted:Kenji is not having a good time here, is he? Poor guy. He's even the one who learned how to do the ritual. His initiation is gonna be hellish. Kenji has been failing a lot of rolls recently. Doesn't matter how many dice you have if someone gets more hits than you. And the person I expected to have the worst time, Sasha, has been killing it on rolls. Shadowrun dice, yo. 
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Jun 23, 2020 03:09
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She's really getting the most out of that gift from Dog. Also Ice that is a wild av and I have no idea what to make of it.
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Jun 23, 2020 03:29
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Dr Subterfuge posted:She's really getting the most out of that gift from Dog. Squizzle gave it to me.
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Jun 23, 2020 03:30
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"I hate that guy! He makes you die for others!" says man willing to die for others. I'm with Monkey, the dramatic irony in this is pretty amusing. Even if Dragonslayer doesn't become the group's spirit mentor, Kenny-boy needs to sit down here and have a chat with him, so he can examine himself and why Dragonslayer makes him feel the way he does. You know, on a personal level, beyond the whole "Every Dragonslayer shaman I've known got a bunch of people around me killed." stuff. That experience alone means there's too much baggage for him to comfortably accept the spirit, but this is a valuable opportunity to have him compare and contrast the good and bad sides of Dog and Dragonslayer. If nothing else, he should do this to be prepared in case he ever meets a toxic aspect of Dog. It won't happen today and it might not happen in the story but it'll likely happen at some point in his life.
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Jun 23, 2020 11:24
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Ice Phisherman posted:Squizzle gave it to me.  Pretty on point, imho. So, given the point in the story as well as current events, I figured I can at least bring up the ideas of direct action and it's supplemental tool of dual power. I am just a dumb goon, so if you are interested in any of these topics please don't take this as gospel and get to reading on your own, and if i get anything wrong since I am dumb please correct me. Direct action is the term for economic and political acts that activists directly utilize or use their own power to achieve their goals, such as sit-ins, marches, strikes. This is in contrast to actions by actors that involve appealing to authorities to utilize that authority's power to have their goals met, such as voting in electoral politics, lobbying politicians by email, phone, visiting and dropping tons of money into their re-election funds. Direct or indirect actions can be either violent or non violent, the main point is whether these actions are empowering or dis-empowering the state/authorities. But direct action is only temporary and short lived. Workers go on strike until they negotiate a new contract, protesters march in the streets until their demands are met or brutally repressed. Direct action may get the goods, but once the goods are received the direct actions ends, and the system that created the injustice still stands. This is where the idea of dual power comes in, which is a tool / guideline for a revolution. Revolutions can come in many different flavors / forms, and the ones everyone knows about follow a general flow - one group of people gain enough people and momentum to challenge the established government/authority, violent actions or war occurs and either the revolution is quashed or is victorious, with the ones revolting taking their place at the top. But then the winners have to rebuild - do they just take the spots of their former oppressors and keep the systems intact, or build some new institutions? The idea of dual power can be likened to sustained direct action by activists to create new institutions that challenge and de-legitimize the current oppressive institutions of power. While the idea is usually described in marxist literature, especially from Lenin, the action is generally ideology neutral. One of the factors causing the American Revolution to be successful is that the infant US government at the onset of it's Declaration of Independence didn't have to start from scratch in creating a system of government to decide matters. The colonies, especially in the northeast had local Town Meetings to debate and discuss issues occurring in their municipality. These along with some colonial legislatures usually had the blessings from the Royal Governors of each colony, these institutions generally kept the colonists happy and self regulated themselves. However, it gave colonists self determination and made people question the need for the royal governors in the first place. Other examples in history includes the Paris Commune of 1871, and the soviets (worker's councils) during the Russian Revolution. Dual power can be broken down into two factors: The creation of a counter institution that directly attends to the needs and injustices of the people, and the con-federalization of these institutions into a counter-state (for lack of a better term) that challenges and usurps the powers of the oppressive state. It's bringing to birth a new world from the ashes of the old.
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Jun 23, 2020 13:44
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Bit of a nitpick, but it's "less lethal" not "less than lethal" for the exact reason Dragonslayer points out, you can absolutely kill (or severely maim) someone by using it wrong, or too much.
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Jun 23, 2020 22:11
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Man, I'm digging this aspect of Dragonslayer so far.
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Jun 23, 2020 22:58
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Hey, so SA might implode because Lowtax is a huge piece of poo poo. https://forums.somethingawful.com/showthread.php?threadid=3928980 I'd very much like to preserve the community here. Not just because I enjoy writing, but because I like you folks. I'm determined to finish this regardless of venue so long as the venue is good and cool. I just fired off an email to the Bread and Roses offsite to see what's what, but that might take some time to get a response. If you haven't jumped on the discord yet, PM me for an invite if you  here or have had a history of doing so.If you don't have pm's, I'll see if I can figure something out. I don't want to post an open discord invite on the forums at the moment. The website is here. So if it goes to poo poo I'll update it. https://blakeisland.wordpress.com/ And I'm considering posting this to Royal Road as well, though that was before all of this happened. At the moment I'm preserving as much as I can not just of the story, but everything. Thread banter, stories, links, everything. Lost a lot of sleep over it.
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Jun 24, 2020 20:00
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Ice Phisherman posted:If you haven't jumped on the discord yet, PM me for an invite if you
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Jun 24, 2020 21:07
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For those who lurk, because I've been messaged by a few of you, I'm trying to keep Nazis out of the community because they're pretty active at the moment. That's nothing against you personally. I just can't personally vouch for you. Though if you have an existing relationship with someone here, please message them. If you're messaged by someone who wants into the discord that you can't vouch for, then please no invites. Again, not anything against you. It's just that the Nazis are really, REALLY active at the moment. If you just read and you want to continue reading my work, I'm going to be posting on my website for up to date stuff and on Royalroad, which is where you read webfiction, later tonight for edited stuff as I figure now is the time to start promoting. I'll provide links when I put them up. At the moment I'm trying to save the forums posts here for posterity and that's taking some time and I'm making several layers of backups. So at the earliest it'll be tonight before I start working on editing the website. Website is here - https://blakeisland.wordpress.com/ I'll post the Royalroad link when it's up. Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 22:13 on Jun 24, 2020 |
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Jun 24, 2020 22:09
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I don't have PMs unfortunately. Odd solution, can I give you an email link to give the discord link to? I have a burner that I use to avoid spam on main accounts, and I can delete the discord link out of the email once I used it and the email out of here once I get it.
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Jun 24, 2020 22:39
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An email address was here! Now it's not. Very spooky. 
Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 23:07 on Jun 24, 2020 |
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Jun 24, 2020 22:45
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So I've talked to many of you over the past couple of days. I've been watching and thinking about what's next for SA and what to do. Talked with Loel a bunch as he's the new mod of the Bread and Roses CYOA. Talked to a number of people actually about what is next most likely. I don't think that SA is going to survive long term. It might limp along for a few months, maybe a year, but I doubt even that. I might be wrong, but I don't think so. Lowtax's behavior is not to apologize or quiet down, but to literally schedule going onto some alt-right podcast to bitch about his ex-gf who is also his employee whom he appears to have horrifically gaslighted and generally abused. That's pretty well known at this point. Jeffrey of YOSPOS is in charge and that happened fast and he's been a long time mod for Lowtax. He was also one of the staunchest supporters of FYAD not getting banned when they'd made an enormous anti-trans harassment thread and said a lot of racist poo poo under the guise of irony and made a few pro-Nazi threads right after being opened and then got shut down again. So they got flushed. I don't think everyone there was universally bad, but it had some extremely toxic elements to it and they couldn't self-police. And Jeffrey, from what I understand, wanted to keep FYAD around. My guess is that they're just rearranging deck chairs on the titanic. That they did the expedient thing of putting Lowtax in the back seat from the driver's seat instead of kicking him out of the car completely. This sucks, but it keeps the community in tact when it was at risk of fragmenting and bought some time. Doing what was necessary to keep SA alive long term doesn't appear to have happened though. I think it's really only a matter of time before this place sinks. I could go deeply into why, but I'm currently finishing archiving this thread and all of my creative work on SA, including You Can't Steal My Joy, which I may reopen at some point. So I'm busy transitioning from one place to another. I'm going to keep posting here for a little while longer in case they by some chance do get their poo poo together. I'd like that to happen, but I honestly doubt it. If people show up like old GBS 2.0 and wreck the culture I'm going to bail. If FYAD reopens, I'm going to bail. I might not even have to bail. Sever costs are going to have to be covered and the revenue stream is dwindling down to basically nothing. The cool parts of SA were never Lowtax or the website. It was us. It was the community and the effort and the history and the laughs we had. Luckily, an online community is fairly portable if it wants to move. If you don't want to move, I'll still be here until I feel like SA has no chance. But I'll also be posting over at B&R. And if things get intolerable here or there's another drama blowup or the server costs can't be met, because that's possible too because Lowtax is hilariously in debt, we'll have the B&R offsite which is not trying to be like SA, but instead it's own thing. Bread and Roses is different than SA. It's more left politically. The community has trans folk in it, who I'm cool with. Also furries in it, who I'm generally cool with as well even though I don't participate in that. There are explicit bans on posting pornography, even in their corner of the forums, so you're not going to get whammied with anthropomorphic fox titties or something unless you start clicking on NSFW links in their forums. But other than some leftists and trans people and furries, it's a lot like SA only younger and way less toxic. It's not perfect. No place is going to be perfect, but the community is pretty accepting and chill from the time I've spent there. So that's cool. And they'll be establishing a new culture there that has went from less than a thousand to 7300 in the space of two days. So a lot of goons are moving there, including some older ones who came back because of the forums drama. It'll be a cool time to carve out new niches and time to put in new effort and maybe it'll stick around. Also the layout is different, but honestly, I like it more than SA. I'm going to try and get the last of my threads saved tonight and begin setting up over on B&R. You're welcome to continue posting here or check it out there. Signing up is pretty easy. At the moment they're allowing for people to just get in for free, though the method isn't obvious. Just sign up, go to the next screen where it says donate your :tenbux: and wait for a while. If someone is on duty modding, you can just hit refresh like half an hour later and get in. So you don't need to pay :tenbux: to get in. All of you fine folks who contribute are awesome. It's been three very cool years and I'd like to finish this story with all of you. If SA goes down and you don't want to follow because you're not comfortable with the people there, that's A-Okay. I'm going to be posting this here until I'm no longer comfortable doing so. Also on Royalroad as I've decided to start promoting this beast. No links yet. They'll be in the discord when I get those up in the next week or so. But if you want, I'd like you to follow because you're my co-authors by making my threads better and I like all of you for that alone, not just because you're cool people who happen to read my rambling story that was originally supposed to just be a writing exercise and blew up out of my control because I like to write and you folks like to put in your say and then I give the dice their say and shake it around until we all see what happens as a result.  The B&R CYOA/games thread is still pretty small, but it's cozy and I'm used to being in the sub-sub basement of SA. So why not B&R? And you might meet some good and cool people there too. Here's the link to the B&R site. https://breadnroses.net/ I'll see about getting a direct link to the thread there once it's set up how I like it. Love you folks. I'm excited to keep writing for you, wherever you read it. Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 08:33 on Jun 27, 2020 |
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Jun 27, 2020 04:09
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Julie, Fuzzy, Kenji, Sasha, Chip, Monkey and Dragonslayer- Time is Meaningless - Denny Park Construct “Well that sucks rear end,” said Dragonslayer. “Yeah, it does,” said Sasha, “It sucks a lot of loving rear end.” Dragonslayer sat on a cloud among the painted clay figures along with everyone else. Julie and Sasha, as best as they could, were in the midst of explaining the situation to him. The conversation was a long one. Sasha had the gist, but Julie had the details. “Yeah, it really does,” said Julie, “I was hoping for advice.” Kenji made a small growl in his throat, still facing away as he lay on his own cloud. Sasha turned to look at Fuzzy. Without speaking, Fuzzy understood Sasha’s glances and small gestures. This was one of the perks of a deep, long term relationship. A magic all its own. So Fuzzy puttered over on her own cloud to soothe Kenji. Her touch was gentle, but he flinched all the same and she pulled away, but she was stubborn. The second touch on his shoulder was accepted, calming him down. Neither spoke. “Advice, huh? Okay, so I don’t know a ton about the nuts and bolts of this future stuff,” said Dragonslayer, “That’s Oracle’s thing. She’s all about that. But I can tell you about protests and riots. That is my thing.” Julie looked to Kenji, who hadn’t moved. “Can we wait a bit?” asked Julie, “I think that I need to talk to my friend. Is that okay?” “Yeah, sure,” said Dragonslayer, “We have the time.” Julie nodded and hopped off her cloud, but paused. She took in the park, the spot of this would-be massacre. A question came to her, something she’d need to talk to Kenji about, though it was only a hunch. A strong one, but still, a hunch. “After this,” said Julie, “It doesn’t get better, does it?” Dragonslayer looked at her pointedly. “After something this awful?” asked Dragonslayer. “Yeah,” said Julie, “Do we back down from this?” He waved his hand back and forth in a “sort of” gesture. “Depends what you mean,” he said, “Things flare up, things die down. In the very short term? Yeah, you have a little backing off as people reel from this. You’ll have a um...What’s the word...” “An interregnum?” supplied Sasha. Dragonslayer nodded once in Sasha’s way in appreciation. Sasha couldn’t help but smile at the acknowledgement. “Yeah, that,” said Dragonslayer, “A week. Maybe two. It won’t be sunshine and roses, but it’ll be a big deal. Then it’ll ramp back up again. It’ll get ugly.” “How ugly?” asked Julie. “drat ugly,” said Dragonslayer, “Maybe if you’re rich and human or maybe if you’re well-connected or just get out of town, it’ll ensure some safety, but that’s not most people. No, things get worse after this for almost everyone.” “So that’s what’s meant by a cusp?” asked Julie, “When things change radically?” “Watershed moment,” said Dragonslayer, “The dividing point between one moment and the next, where everything changes. Think about it like a car. We were cruising fast and not really paying attention to the road. This moment though?” He pointed a finger a vague direction of the riot and waved it about in an all-encompassing circle. “This is where we spin out, lose speed. Then we pick a new direction regardless of whether there’s a road or not while everyone fights over the wheel. Someone maybe stomps on the accelerator, maybe someone’s foot gets kicked away. Fast or slow, which direction, don’t know. It’s chaotic. We don’t stop no matter who gets hit or how tight the turn or how scary it gets until we run out of gas.” “gently caress, that’s bleak,” sighed Sasha. “Yeah,’ said Dragonslayer, “I hate chaos, but those are the forces in charge. You can’t do battle with those forces cleanly when they’re actively causing harm. In fact, challenging these systems can cause even more suffering. They’re often set up to fail when challenged. Sorry Sasha. These are problems made by people. Only people can solve them. In a time of confusion and violence, these kinds of things happen.” Julie looked back at Kenji. She needed to know what Dragonslayer knew for what she needed to talk to him about, but now she was just stalling. Sasha cleared her throat and looked to Julie. “Hey,” said Sasha, “Do you uh...Need me? To talk to Kenji?” Julie furrowed her brow in confusion. “Maybe not,” said Julie, "Why?” “I mean,” said Sasha, evasively, “Remember what we talked about? My mom? My dad?” Comprehensions dawned on Julie. Sasha was going to ask for help for her family. She’d been through so much and this was likely why she was holding it together. The reason she’d accepted what Julie had asked for without much in the way of complaint. Unwilling to deny her the moment, Julie nodded her head in acknowledgement. “I’ll try and get by,” said Julie, “I’ll call you over if I need you.” Sasa smiled in relief, but despite the lifting of her anxiety by Dog, she couldn’t help but be nervous nonetheless. Julie leaned over and hugged Sasha. “Thanks,” said Sasha, against Julie’s cheek. “Anytime,” said Julie. They broke the hug. Sasha turned towards Dragonslayer and Julie then turned towards Kenji and Fuzzy, who were still sharing silence together. All she did was run her hand along Kenji’s back, who in turn accepted that touch as he laid on his cloud like a bed. Julie was still on her cloud. So she slowly circled around Kenji as he laid there. He didn’t look at her. Instead he stared into the middle distance, through her. In her mind, she tried to think rationally about what he wanted. Most likely everyone’s safety. In fact, she had the sneaking suspicion that if she failed here and pushed it anyway, he might end the ritual prematurely rather than establish a permanent link with something he saw as a threat. No, rational wasn’t the right approach. If she approached him rationally, he’d meet her with words while pulling back emotionally. Talking was what he was good at and if she were being honest with herself, she wasn’t good at that. Her mind fled back to seconds ago, the touch on one cheek, the kiss on the other. It had felt transgressive, but not a violation. It had been a surprise that he couldn’t deal with. Kenji simply wasn’t used to authentic acts of kindness and gentleness. So Julie laid down on her cloud, took off her hat and laid it down next to her. From there, she mirrored his posture, trying to meet his eyes as he stared through her. In that instant, she decided to abandon any argument from a place of rationality, at least for the moment. Instead she decided to speak from the heart, colored with gentleness. It could horrifically backfire, because speaking from the heart meant that she couldn’t plan, but it was probably her only shot at changing his mind. Their clouds were so close that they’d nearly merged, but she kept that from happening. It was a small thing, something she almost missed, but the clouds were as soft as a bed and Kenji was laying on his like he was on one and so was Julie. She understood his feelings better after their awkward conversation where he’d confessed how he felt about her and how he needed to be careful because of that. Their mutual attraction needed to be accounted for. It was awkward, but she was beginning to understand how to navigate it. So she kept her own cloud separate from his. Two clouds were okay, just like being on two different beds, side by side. One cloud was not acceptable. The small things mattered, she realized. They mattered a great deal. There were levels of emotional intimacy. Some were acceptable, some might be acceptable and some were not acceptable. The risk she was taking was somewhere in the middle. Understanding this in her heart, she cleared her throat and spoke up. “Hey,” she whispered. Fuzzy looked down at Julie and Julie flashed Fuzzy a grateful smile. “Should I stay?” mouthed Fuzzy, silently. Julie nodded once, ever so slightly. So Fuzzy nodded and kept rubbing her hands along Kenji’s back. Again, Julie appraised Kenji. He was staring through her. Likely he was remembering something or imagining something. Most likely it wasn’t pleasant. He hadn’t checked out completely. So she decided to bring him out of whatever he was imagining gently, even if he missed some or even all of what she said. “We’re almost done,” she whispered, soothingly, “We’ve met everyone we’re going to meet. We’ll be...Bonded by the ritual. All of us. I know that we were going to get that visit from CPS. You know, somebody coming by, trying to decide our lives for us. I can’t even remember who made the suggestion, but when life was going to pull us apart, we just cling together tighter. I liked that. Everyone did.” She could tell that he was paying attention. His gaze was no longer through her, but he still wasn’t fully present, she sensed. Not yet. Seeing that Fuzzy’s touch was soothing him, she almost reached out again, but stopped and instead laid her hand on the edge of her cloud, nearest to him. That felt right. A wish to be closer, but respecting his space. “And I like Dog,” said Julie. Kenji blinked a few times. He was finally looking at her, eyes focused. She smiled at him and his mouth turned up slightly at the corners. It was understated. His real smile. “Yeah?” he asked. “Yeah,” she said, “I liked that story. It’s a dear secret. I’d wish I’d asked for help though. I was scared.” There was a pause. That smile evaporated. It hurt her to make that smile go away, but she was speaking from the heart. That meant no filters. “You could’ve told me,” he said. “I know,” she said, “I didn’t want to burden you. You’re still figuring this thing out with Dog. So you already have a lot on your plate, but that wasn’t it. Not why.” “Why?” “Too scared, too tired,” said Julie, “This was so big that I felt like I was choking and I didn’t know what to do. I’d made promises to Mother Bear and Julian. Ones I guess I’m breaking now. But there was no other way. You know, those times where everything changes? Where the choice not to do something doesn’t exist? I mean, it does, but that’s just me fooling myself into not acting.” Again a silence. Longer this time as Kenji considered. “Most people I know don’t get those,” said Kenji. “Get what?” asked Julie. “Meaningful choices.” Julie allowed Kenji to mull over his thoughts. Long seconds passed, but she stayed quiet. He had things he wanted to process. Again his eyes went out of focus. “They’re a luxury,” said Kenji, “Everyone has choices. For some people, a lot of people, actually, sometimes they’re just a choice between bad and worse.” Fuzzy nodded along as she stroked Kenji’s back. An affirmation that Kenji didn’t see, but felt. “And sometimes you don’t even get that,” said Julie. “Mhm. Make rent or go hungry, that’s a choice between bad and worse. Forget that you’re hosed up by a thousand other little things..” “You just keep moving.” “Or you don’t,” he said, “You do whatever numbs the pain of living, even though it’s bad for you. Especially if it’s bad for you. Seen it all. Seen people with good options make good choices, more often people with good options make bad ones. I’ve seen people with choices, bad and worse. Seen people lie to themselves, unwilling to accept reality. Seen people who accept what’s happening, treading water, about to drown. Seen them numb themselves to death. Seen a lot of things.” Julie’s heart hurt for him and she wanted to reach out more, but before she could, Kenji focused on her completely now. Here it came. His pitch. “We got choices now. Good ones,” he said, “I mean, not in this place. We have to get past this. But you can feel it, right? Things are going to get worse. I don’t think we get to dodge this. A feeling I have. Right?” Julie nodded. “That’s about right, yeah.” “So we choose the bad option, gently caress the worse one,” he said, “Then we ride it out until it’s done, we chill at the school and keep our heads down. No one will gently caress with us there. Maybe we stick with Dog. Maybe we go with no one. We have our questions. We get them answered. We do what we need to do. We don’t look back. That’s that.” “That’s that…” echoed Julie. The look that Kenji gave her was serious and imploring. “Yeah. Everyone stays safe. Everyone.” It was tempting. Beyond tempting, really. To just look away. Show up to Denny Park, do the minimum, get therapy, go home and try to deal with the nightmares. There were so many distractions. She could learn magic and bury herself in her books and enjoy life with her friends. It would be ideal. All she’d have to do was look away. “What about the city?” she asked, “That’s not everyone.” “The metroplex?” asked Kenji, who softly scoffed, “What has the ‘plex ever done for me? For you? Any of us?” Julie sighed. “Not much.” “See?” “But the people under it?” asked Julie, “They gave me a lot.” Another pause. Kenji frowned. “I mean…” he began, and immediately stopped. “What?” It was odd to see him back off a topic like that. “You know, the whole prop 23 thing,” he said, hesitantly. Julie winced and Kenji winced in sympathy. Again, Julie realized, Kenji must be in a bad way to be this tactless. “Sorry,” he said. “No, you’re right. If it gets passed, there’s a good chance that my community goes away.” “Yeah, it’s prime real estate underneath the heart of old Seattle. Billions of nuyen. Like...So much. gently caress a vote, it’ll get passed no matter who gets elected. Everyone gets moved out for the rich. I think they call it gentrification, right?” “Right,” sighed Julie, “Maybe not immediately, but people are going to come with money and police and those police are going to do awful things to move people out. I didn’t expect this when I took over for Marco, but I’m still responsible until the moment that I’m not. Touristville is just a little piece of the Ork Underground, but it’s a piece that I care about.” “Hey Fuzzy, can you come here?” asked Sasha. Fuzzy looked back and moved towards Dragonslayer. Kenji almost turned to look, but Julie slid her hand from the edge of her cloud to the edge of his cloud, capturing his attention as she grew closer. Fuzzy’s touch was gone, but Kenji had accepted hers. Maybe he’d take Julie’s instead. It didn’t happen. At least not immediately. “Like I said, I like Dog,” she said. Kenji smiled again, but that smile faltered as he realized what was unspoken. “I hear a but.” “Mhm.” “You don’t want Dog?” “I do,” she said, “And I have him through you. If you ask for help, do you think he would?” Kenji tried to think of something to say, but eventually he was forced to admit what he knew. “Yeah,” he said begrudgingly. “Why not get a second opinion?” asked Julie. Kenji’s eyes filled with worry and pain. “Did you not listen to anything I said?” he asked, “I can tell that you’re trying to sell me on what I don’t want. You’re not talking about Monkey. I know who you have your eye on.” Julie looked down at her hand on his cloud and gently flipped it over. With the barest flexing of her digits, an invitation was made. Slowly, Kenji reached one of his own arms out and placed his hand in her own. The squeeze was gentle, given and received. “Kenji, I’m not about to form up a death squad,” she said. “Not yet,” he pleaded, “Dragonslayer has a way of convincing people. Read up on him in class. I don’t know a lot, there are a lot of those mentor spirits, but he’s got a reputation. He’s famous.” Julie weighed what she was about to say next. Now it was her turn to drop something painful on him. “Kenji, remember what happened when Dog was asked for help through you?” The question was put as gently as possible, but Kenji hissed in a breath as if he’d been punched in the guts. “Ouch.” Despite the pain, he didn’t pull away. He only looked guilty. Something else she wasn’t used to seeing. “I know,” she soothed, “I’m not mad at your or blaming you. I’m saying that we’re dealing with…” “Stop, no,” he whispered, voice hoarse “I almost got all of you killed. That’s my fault.” She gave his hand a firm squeeze this time. Now, she figured, it was time for her own pitch. So she switched from empathy to rationality. Both had their place. So she began choosing her words carefully. “It’s not anyone fault,” she soothed, “I’m not trying to blame you. I just want you to be safe like you want all of us to be safe. I’m happy that we were in the right place at the right time. But no matter how big Dog is, he’s still an animal spirit. It’s hard to ask for help if we have to interpret what he’s saying. I want someone who’s a little more straightforward. We get some checks and balances.” “Dragonslayer is not who I want checking me,” said Kenji, his tone flat. “I was talking about everyone, not just you.” This made Kenji pause, taken aback. “Options, like you said. Maybe one is bad, maybe one is worse. Maybe one is good and maybe one is great. And if one gives us a task, we can check with each other to be safe. Then if we can, we check with the other mentor spirit too. It’ll be a little slow, but that’s not a bad thing.” “You want to check after me?” he asked. His tone was incredulous and slightly out of place. It was as if he was unused to someone caring about him, checking after him, making sure he was okay. “Yeah. Fuzzy, Sasha, Chip and yeah, me too,” she explained, “The mentor spirits come last and we’ll only think about doing what they say if we’re in agreement. Look, we get into trouble, but we don’t really work together. Not often. Not on purpose anyway. If we’re going to join a group, well...Maybe it’s time to start acting like a group. Fighting Pinchface and his spirits was thrilling. Probably the most thrilling thing I’ve done in my life, but that’s not something I want to do every day. The kind of dragons I want to slay?” She switched back to thinking with her heart and she poured her feelings into her words, trying her best to convince him. Not loudly pleading with him, but an invitation with a small, quiet voice she felt inside of her that blazed with passion for helping other people. Once she’d papered over it with work like she papered over everything with work. But this was different. When things got bad, Julie swung for the fences. Just like bringing Oli into the school or the donation of money to have have Sunday breakfasts to bring her community together, Julie went big. Or at least as big as she thought she could manage...And then some. “I want to make space for a garden in Touistville,” said Julie, “Well, not a garden. A high yield food machine...thing. I think it’s called a plant factory. Fuzzy’s family is running low on food because they have too many extra mouths and they’re going to have a hard time this winter. There’s a lot of people in Touristville who need some work right now since things are slow. So there are extra hands to set up new projects. Dig it out, set it up. Maybe automate it. I don’t know. I want to see what’s possible. I want to feed as many people as possible. I think that we can turn fresh fruits and vegetables into lots of food if we sell it, don’t you think?” Kenji hesitated. He squirmed as he tried to find some fault, but couldn’t. Julie pressed. “I met this dentist at a protest too,” she said, “Got his number.” Kenji shot her a concerned look. Julie giggled and squeezed his hand again. “Not like that,” she said, “He was there with his family. Wife and kids. We got to talking and I asked Devon about who helps with teeth and the answer was that Marco rented a machine every few months and had someone operate it. I was thinking about getting a drone to do it. It’s almost all automated. Only the major surgeries need people and sometimes not even then, but you get a better quality of care if someone is running it. Looked it up. And maybe if there’s room, I could set up a new...Business, I guess?” Kenji perked up at that word. “Business?” he asked, “You want to be a dentist?” Julie giggled again. “Oh no, I am not a dentist,” she said, “I just want to get the one machine to start if it’s not going to break the bank. There were so many to choose from and I was thinking about asking for a consult. Then I got to thinking. Maybe I know some very smart people who could tell me if it was a good idea or not. Maybe they help me get a good deal on those machines.” Again she squeezed his hand to let him know that she was talking about asking him if the implication wasn’t enough. It was funny, she realized. She’d been switching between using her head and her heart, but now it felt like she was working with both. “That’s legit though,” he said, “Where are you going to get property that’s legit? Or are you going to do illegal dentistry?” Kenji’s tone was still soft as he was still hurting, but that had been a joke. Julie felt her heart leap in response. He was on board with her now. He was thinking with her, not hurting alone. “Kenji, I hardly think that I’m the first person to run a small business out of their own home. When I was a kid, my old dentist had his practice in his house and he lived upstairs.” Kenji’s mouth made a small O. Back came the smile. “I thought you just owned the medical practice,” he said. “I own both and my apartment is huge and empty. I’m not doing anything with it. And my practice? It’s great, but it doesn’t make much money. Apparently it’s not automated well enough. Devon and the nurses do okay though. They get paid and bring money into the community and it mostly stays there. I’m okay with that because I’m getting a lot of training out of it. I don’t want to replace them. I’m not in it for the money.” Kenji frowned in confusion. “I thought you wanted to set up a business.” Julie shook her head, face rubbing against the cloud. “Not a business exactly,” she said, “I want to do service.” Julie let go of his hand and sat up straight and carefully placed her white cowboy hat back on her head. Now that he was feeling better, this was getting too intimate for her. Kenji had a girlfriend, she reminded herself. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. So now that she’d sat up, Kenji sat up as well. “Just when I thought you’d found some sense,” he mused, “You want to do all of this service crap.” “Feeding the hungry and healing the sick is kind of what my religion is about, Kenji.” “You going to preach to me?” he asked, jokingly. Julie shook her head. “No, I’m not. Not unless you want me to. Do you want me to?” Kenji winced. Not in pain, but again for a lack of things to say. Her question had been too direct and earnest and he was too tired to evade. “Not really. Sorry. Not my thing.” She nodded in acknowledgement. “Okay,” she said, simply, “Then I’ll just talk about the service. This is what I want to do. These are the dragons I want to slay. I figure...I figure if I’m all about the service, then I can make people happy and if one of those people is Dragonslayer then so much the better. It was something I was already thinking about doing. Chip already does night shifts healing people when he’s not with me...” Kenji frowned in thought as he tried to see where Julie was leading him. “You want me to do service?” he asked. “Have you tried?” “Well...No…” Again, Julie felt like she wouldn’t be getting honest answers so easily from him if he was in better condition. “Well, okay,” she said, “You’re new to life not run by someone else’s rules, but now...” Julie halted her part of the conversation there. She wanted Kenji to come to the conclusion on his own. What she got from him was a sigh. “But now you’re saying I don’t know what to do with my life,” he concluded. “I’m saying that maybe it’s time to explore yourself and find what you care about. Life is bigger than money and favors.” “You want me to explore myself?” he asked, with a smirk. “Yes, I want you to…” Julie stopped and made a frustrated noise in her throat. Kenji burst into laughter. Julie rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest. Unwilling to back down out of embarrassment, she doubled down instead. “Yes Kenji, explore what you care about,” she said, “And we make it very clear to Dragonslayer that we’ll slay some dragons, but we’re looking for ways to go about it peacefully. More on the feeding and healing side than going toe to toe with scary people. Then we can get advice for what’s going to be a very dangerous time for normal people and try to get it into the hands of people who can help. We check, back and forth. We stay safe.” Kenji wiped a tear away from his eye and let out a happy sigh. Then his smile fell away. That laugh had given him what he’d needed. He was better now, but Julie had made her point. “We can’t just go with Dog, huh?” he asked. “Who can’t talk, right?” she asked. “He can, he just says less when he does it,” said Kenji, “It gets lost in translation.” “So we’d be going in blind each time he offers advice.” Kenji made a face. “Not...Completely…He’s pretty blunt.” “But we’ll have access to Dog through you.” “Fine, okay. What about Monkey?” Julie looked over at Monkey. His back was turned and he lazily waved an arm in the air at mention of his name. “What does he know about protests and riots?” asked Julie. “Knows about violence,” he said, “Knows about mocking people.” “He’s kind of an rear end.” “Yeah. Compromise candidate?” Julie bit her lip. “I have this feeling like he’s going to push us into conflict,” she said, “The parts of the book I read was him constantly getting into fights. I did flip ahead. It’s basically him constantly getting into new fights. Remember what he said? How his book probably invented the monster of the week genre?” “The what?” “It’s a kind of story where you fight another monster every week. Like in cartoons? Where a new monster rears its head and everyone bands together to beat it?” Kenji absorbed this and scowled. “poo poo. Are you for real? Like in the cartoons? Really?” “If you haven’t noticed, he really likes cartoons.” Kenji’s shoulders slumped. “poo poo…” “I think that Monkey is not the peaceful compromise option.” “poo poo, poo poo poo poo... “We take the peaceful option with Dragonslayer if that’s an option,” she said, over his swearing, “We do support work and I think that’ll make him happy enough to take an interest in advising us.” “poo poo...poo poo…” He kept repeating that word for a full minute before he finally gave up. “Ugh...Are you really talking me into this?” Julie held her breath. She didn’t dare tell him yes in case he changed his mind. “What about Fuzzy?” he asked. “What about...Oh, you mean her getting into fights?” she asked. “Right. I don’t want her seeking out fights on someone else’s say-so.” “I don’t either. She’s not the type of person to find fights. She ends them if they find her.” “So we watch her?” “Yeah, of course we do,” said Julie, “She’s busy all the time though between hunting and training Jayvon. Add school into that and she’ll be really busy. She sticks to her promises.” “Sasha doesn’t come off the island,” whispered Kenji, “Not unless we can keep her safe. Too many people will want her blood for...You know. Family poo poo.” “Yeah…” The thought of what people might do to Sasha for what her father might or might not have done stirred up some ugly feelings in both Julie and Kenji. “Yeah…” repeated Julie. “Julie,” said Kenji, severely, “I’m okay with some risk, but if he starts pushing all of us towards violence I will find a way to destroy the magic that binds us. I don’t care what it takes. I don’t care about the fallout. We’re not bound to Dragonslayer like I am to Dog. The ritual is ongoing, for as long as we renew it, but if it’s destroyed he’ll have a hard time finding us. It might not even be possible. If that happens, I’m not doing this again. We’re not going to be a group if we’re in prison or dead.” “Okay.” Kenji glowered, but he didn’t speak. Eventually, Julie had to ask. “So that’s a yes?” she asked, hopefully. Kenji looked like he swallowed something sour and lifted his fingers, ticking off reasons one by one. “I’m considering it because it’s the least bad of our options. Dog is already talking to me and we got pushed into a fight by him. Maybe that fight was inevitable and it was for a good reason, but still, it was nasty. And that’s something I’m going to have to deal with. We can’t stay peaceful with Monkey if what you say is true.. Oracle bailed because she’d gently caress me up too bad. Choosing no mentor leaves us with Dog, but not as close. If Dragonslayer is fine with us giving support and not getting killed, I’ll accept it. I’m fine with some risk, but I want to keep it low. I’ll keep an eye out for trouble and I will blow this up if it looks like it’s going bad.” Julie leaned forwards and hugged him. “You won’t regret it,” she said. “I’m already regretting it,” he grumbled, “No promises though. Fine. I’ll talk to him.” Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 06:53 on Jul 6, 2020 |
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Julie, Fuzzy, Kenji, Sasha, Chip, Monkey and Dragonslayer- Time is Meaningless - Denny Park Construct “Of course I’m fine with meaningful, peaceful support,” said Dragonslayer, “Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea how few people actually do that?” The group had departed from their clouds and migrated to a copse of fir trees made up of what looked like green muslin fabric. The grass was made up of synthetic green fibers and Julie could see the lines between each two by two foot square. Even the sun was hanging from a string. Oracle was surprisingly artsy. “Not really,” said Sasha. “Not many. Normally food, water, bandages, bail, all that gets crowdsourced,” said Dragonslayer, “That’s critical. Getting actual medical attention? That’s huge. Getting teeth fixed, your dentist thing? Cops and Nazis can and will bust those out. Broken teeth are no fun. So yeah, I am all about this. Getting people to actually organize all of that in a way that helps people? Extremely difficult.” “Crowdsourced?” asked Fuzzy. “It’s when you convince a lot of people to pitch in money for a project,” said Sasha. “Oooooh,” said Fuzzy, “That makes sense. I like that.” “They pitch in goods and labor too and love. All that good stuff. Money is just one way,” said Dragonslayer, “It’s a big pot. People fill it up. People draw from it. It works. Tried and true.” “Bail?” asked Kenji. “Yeah, cops arrest people all the time,” said Dragonslayer. “Not feeling getting arrested,” said Kenji. “I don’t don’t want anyone getting arrested either,” said Chip, “Can I get arrested?” “If you do anything illegal, I’m the one who gets arrested,” said Julie. “Really?” “Yeah. I can’t remember the court case off the top of my head, but the actions of ally spirits are tied to their summoners just like regular spirits are tied to their summoners.” She looked at the rest of the group. “I really need to teach the rest of you how to deal with police though.” “What do you mean?” asked Fuzzy. “When you’re dealing with cops, you learn the script,” said Dragonslayer. “You shut the gently caress up,” said Julie, automatically. Everyone looked at her. Julie felt embarrassed, but she pressed on. “I did paralegal work in prison because it kept me out of trouble,” she explained, “Most people there who didn’t get caught red handed got tricked into talking. You never talk to cops.” “What?” asked Sasha, “I mean, if you haven’t done anything wrong…” “No, no that’s wrong,” said Julie. “How is it wrong if you didn’t do anything?” “People who didn’t do anything get harassed. Cops aren’t magical truth detectors.” “But…” “Have you worked on dozens of case files?” “Well, no…” said Sasha. “Not trying to make you feel bad, but cops absolutely will try and put you in prison for whatever you say if they think you’re guilty or if someone is telling them to do it or...Well, so many other reasons,” said Julie, “So you stick to the script. And the script is how to talk to a cop and then shutting up no matter what they do or say.” Both Dragonslayer and Kenji were nodding along, though Kenji scowled once he noticed that. “Keep going,” urged Dragonslayer. Julie cleared her throat. “Okay, so, if you don’t say anything to the cops, you give them less to work with,” she said, “Everything gets recorded.” “Yeah, with body cameras,” said Sasha. Julie nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Anyway, so I knew two people in prison whose case I worked on. They were standing next to a car. The cops show up fast and in numbers and so they can’t run. Cops say they smelled drugs, pop the trunk, find stolen goods and some drugs that they planted to justify further search.” “Are you sure they planted the drugs?” asked Sasha, skeptically. “People usually don’t lie about what they go to prison for unless it’s the sort of thing that gets you attacked. Why lie about something that doesn’t matter?” Sasha grumbled, but motioned to keep going. Julie continued. “Anyway, two started talking when they got prompted and went to prison because they said they’d only ridden over here in the car. The car was also stolen, so they got them on larceny, grand theft auto and narcotics distribution charges. I actually helped the last one get removed from their sentence. That was nice. But the other four? They shut the gently caress up and so they got to walk because no one could prove that they had been in the car instead of just standing around. The cameras in that district had been busted for too long. So it was only the cops who had the cameras and audio to prove what they said. The DA didn’t bother with the other four.” “So four criminals got away,” said Sasha, with obvious distaste. “I’m not saying what’s right or wrong,” said Julie, “I only knew the particulars of the two. The rule of shut the gently caress up got drilled into my head because the majority of the cases I worked on were people who didn’t shut the gently caress up.” Sasha grumbled again. “Lawyers,” she complained. “Paralegal,” corrected Julie, “Lawyers get paid in nuyen. Prison paralegals get paid in soups and respect.” “Soups?” asked Fuzzy. “Noodle packets,” said Julie, “They passed for currency. Anyway, a lot of innocent people go to prison because cops get judged on the number of cases they resolve and resolution is measured on their convictions. They’re incentivized to lie and cheat because they can get promoted that way or they get bonuses from the corps.” Sasha tried to pick that apart, but she shook her head. “Okay, that is how thing work,” she said, “But you make it sound bad. Not all cops are like that.” Julie had other feelings on the matter, though they were mostly directed towards prison guards. So she held her tongue for the moment. “Script?” prompted Dragonslayer. “Oh yeah, You uh…” said Julie, as she searched her memories, “You ask why they’re talking to you, or why they pulled you over depending on how they approach. And when they explain and keep asking you questions, you say you’re not discussing your day. Then they’ll ask more questions because they always do. You ask if you’re detained or if you’re free to go. You insist on that until they give you an answer. If you’re not detained, you leave. If you’re detained, you invoke the fifth amendment and then shut the gently caress up until your lawyer arrives.” Again, Sasha tried to find a rebuttal. She wasn’t happy. “It’s...Confrontational,” said Sasha. “Well, yeah,” said Julie, “You’re being confronted. You need to protect yourself. I met a lot of innocent people in prison.” Sasha sighed miserably, giving up the point. “Huh,” said Chip, “Everyone does that? The script thing?” “No. Most people don’t,” said Julie, “Cops can arrest you for whatever. Getting charged is a different thing. Cops will sometimes try to intimidate you into talking or they’ll pretend to be friendly so you’ll talk to them and a lot of people are nervous so they’ll talk. They’ll sometimes even tell people that if they admit to the crime, that you’ll be able to leave. It’s all a trick. Shutting the gently caress up is the best defense until your lawyer arrives or you’re released.” “That’s really dumb,” said Chip, “That makes no sense.” “That’s how you navigate the law,” said Julie, “I mostly worked in magical law, but this is really basic stuff.” “Laws are dumb.” “Laws aren’t dumb,” said Sasha, “We need laws to have a society.” Dragonslayer looked at Sasha critically. “What?” said Sasha. Fuzzy tugged on Sasha’s sleeve to get her attention. “I lived in a place without laws,” she said, gently, “We just knew what to do and then did it.” “So did I,” said Kenji, “The ACHE is crazy violent one day, cool the next. It’s like uh...Reading the weather. Moving costs calories and most people stay pretty stationary to conserve those. People who don’t understand label us as lazy, but you have to chill to keep from starving. But yeah, no laws. No one would tolerate laws. We just got the way we do things.” Sasha tilted her head in confusion. “The ACHE has no cops?” she asked, “I mean, you have the walls outside. Checkpoints, right?” “That’s to keep people in,” said Kenji, “And the checkpoints are automated these days. When cops come in, they roll deep, they come ready to fight, they’re geared up, droned up, keyed up on combat drugs or maybe they’ve got cyberware and bioware if they’re real hitters and they will gun down anyone they come across.” Sasha made shocked a face and Julie tried to keep her cool. Maybe Kenji was still being too honest. “That’s horrible,” said Sasha, “They just...Shoot random people?” “I mean, if you don’t want any, you get indoors,” said Kenji, “Or you run away. Cops aren’t exactly subtle when they roll in.” “Why would you even be outside at all if you could get killed?” “No hope, no fear,” said Kenji, like it was a mantra, “Regular people get starved ten days out of the month. Cops show up? That’s feast time in the ACHE and everyone’s hungry. They got heavy combat armor, milspec weapons, riot shields, cyberware, bioware, drones, grenades, medkits, bullets, combat drugs, it’s all there. Gangs will go out of their way to drop cops who venture in. No one goes toe to toe with them unless you’re willing to get shredded, but it’s a few hundred cops versus a hundred-thousand desperate people. They always leave some behind. So they don’t come in very often.” Julie felt queasy at the thought. Cyberware and bioware had to be ripped out of people with surgery. She kept this to herself. “That’s horrible!” “No doubt,” agreed Kenji, “That’s what no hope, no fear gets you. If you wave a meal in front of a hungry person then don’t be surprised if they try and take a bite. It doesn’t matter how dangerous the meal is, hungry people need to eat. If you want less dead cops, maybe feed people more. It’d probably be cheaper. The way the ACHE is, it’s a choice, Sasha. It’s why you don’t see many homeless people in Seattle. If they don’t go out to the barrens, Redmond or Puyallup or become some corp wage slave, they get swept up every few months and shoved in the ACHE. Most aren’t allowed to come out. The ACHE was how the government and the corps “solved” homelesness.” Kenji dropped his hands from the air quotes he made around the word solved. “Can we…Can we...I mean, I don’t know,” said Sasha, reeling from the implications, “I feel really dumb every time I open my mouth.” Fuzzy circle her arm around Sasha’s waist and pulled her in. Sure enough, Sasha’s head leaned against her shoulder. “Sasha, if I were to ask you about computers and didn’t know much about anything, I don’t think of myself as dumb,” said Kenji, “Something comes up about where I live, you have opinions, but that’s not reality. You’re not dumb because you don’t know about the ACHE. I’m not dumb because I don’t know about computers." “I guess so…” “poo poo sucks, but that’s just how it is in the ACHE. You have a hard time even looking at it because of the astral, right?” “Yeah…It gives me a migraine.” “Then I’m not surprised that you wouldn’t want to know and just thought what you were told by others. I don’t talk about it much. It’s not a good place. People do what they have to do and what they have to do, people don’t understand. But I have to ask Dragonslayer here about my home because Julie is very interested in him and I have serious reservations. So it’s on my mind right now. Sorry.” “Okay...Just...I don’t know.” “I know, sorry.” Chip raised his hand. “I thought we were going to make decisions as a group,” he said. This gave Kenji pause. “poo poo, okay, fair,” said Kenji, “I mean, I was just going to ask to maybe give a yes or...Sorry, I’m used to taking charge when things are stressful. I’m stressed out. What’s your take, Chip?” Chip smiled as he was consulted. “I’m good with Dragonslayer, Monkey and Dog,” he said, “Any of them.” “Me too,” said Fuzzy, “I’d be happy with any of them.” Fuzzy looked to Sasha. “I’m good with Dragonslayer or Dog,” said Sasha, “I have this feeling like Monkey is going to get on my last nerve and I only got so many of those left. I prefer Dragonslayer though.” “Want to share why?” asked Julie. “No. At least not yet. I don’t want to weigh in so hard that I make peoples’ minds for them. Kenji?” Kenji paused in thought. “Julie convinced me to hear Dragonslayer’s explanation about why my home gets hosed up by him,” he explained, “Hard pass on Monkey.” “Wait,” said Fuzzy, “Why not Monkey?” “I was going to interview him with everyone,” said Kenji, “But then Julie mentioned something. Hey Monkey?” Kenji looked over towards Monkey, who was luxuriating on his cloud, eyes closed and a long blade of freshly plucked fake grass hung out of his mouth. “Yo,” said Monkey, serenely. “If we join up with you, would you drop us into that monster of the week routine? You know, where we’d be fighting some new bad guy as designated by you?” Monkey opened one eye and grinned. “Probably,” said Monkey, blade of fake grass bobbing, “You beat up some old enemies of mine so I took notice. I’m here in case you like making fun of people and combat. I can adjust it for high or low intensity if you want.” “Sorry, pass,” said Kenji. “You’d be doing the world a favor,” said Monkey, “I think that all of you would enjoy it if you tried it.” “Combat is a numbers game,” said Kenji, “Constant combat is a losing game. Even low intensity stuff can get you killed.” Monkey sat up on his cloud and spat out the blade of grass, which looped once in the air before zooming back into the ground and finding its place, as if tugged. Apparently the construct repaired itself. “Maybe you’re interested in an adventure?” he asked, “I could put you on one. A real quest. Like in the stories.” Fuzzy and Chip perked up at this. Kenji and Julie shook their heads. Sasha stayed still. “Adventure?” asked Fuzzy and Chip, at the exact same time. They looked at each other and smiled. “I have responsibilities,” said Julie, “I can’t abandon people who rely on me for an adventure. It sounds fun...No, it sounds amazing, but no, thank you, I can’t. Thank you for finding me and bringing me back though.” “No problem,” said Monkey, “You’re missing out though. “I’m not going to play with my friends’ lives,” said Kenji, “Thanks, but no thanks.” “You be closer to each other. It’s the risk that does it,” said Monkey, “It’d make even deeper bonds.” Kenji was momentarily taken aback. Chip was generally excited and began looking for whose mind to change first. Fuzzy bit her lip and pleaded with her eyes with her friends, but they weren’t moved. Then Sasha wrapped her arms around her, whispered something into her ear and Fuzzy deflated. At nearly the same time, Fuzzy and Chip realized that there would be no monster of the week adventures. “Maaaaaan,” complained Chip. He’d been just as excited as Fuzzy, but Chip also couldn’t get killed through normal means. He’d only be banished and come back later. So he was biased. “Maaaaaaaaaaaan,” echoed Fuzzy. Sasha looked to Monkey, but shrugged one shoulder. She might have taken up an adventure, but not from Monkey. “All right,” said Monkey, “I figured that I didn’t have a chance when you showed up, D.” Dragonslayer shrugged. “I might be following,” he said, “No guarantee here either.” “Still up for the marathon with Oracle after this?” “You know it. I’ll even bring the popcorn.” Dragonslayer and Monkey bumped fists. Then he turned around on his cloud and began to zoom away. “Hey,” called Dragonslayer, “You’re still leaving the clouds for their dreams like you said, right?” Monkey suddenly stopped and shot Dragonslayer a guilty grin. “I guess I am now.” “Good. And your advice?” Monkey tilted his head back dramatically and made a farting noise with his mouth. “Advice...Advice...Okay, yeah,” he groused, “Mock your enemies savagely. It’s how you do combat with them without risk to life and limb since you seem to care about that so much. And remember that includes people who say they’re on your side. False friends and allies will drag you down. I’d suggest getting good at identifying them. Anyway, sage advice given. Later!” Everyone waved as he left. Monkey disappeared towards the fake sky, which rippled like cloth as he punched a tiny hole through it. Moments later that hole sewed itself together. “This place is weird,” said Kenji. “Yeah,” said Chip, “And mock people, huh? I’m not good at that.” “Me neither,” said Fuzzy. “Or me,” said Julie. “I’m all right at it,”said Kenji. Sasha mumbled something. At a poke from Fuzzy, she repeated it. “I’m really good at it,” sighed Sasha, “Can’t help but think the meanest things sometimes.” The brief cuddle from Fuzzy made her smile. “Why Sasha,” drawled Kenji, “My ego would crush us all if you didn’t shoot the occasional barb into it. It’d screw up our dynamic if you didn’t call me a pervert at least once a day.” Sasha petulantly stuck her tongue out at Kenji. “That’s the spirit. Speaking of spirits.” That was when Kenji turned to talk to Dragonslayer. “All right, everyone is good with you but me,” he said, “I’m guessing you know why.” “I can guess. Yeah, I work pretty heavily in the ACHE,” said Dragonslayer, “It’s hard because the astral is screwed up there, but I make it work.” Kenji eyed Dragonslayer warily. “So you admit you gently caress poo poo up there?” he asked. “I want to change things for the better, yeah,” said Dragonslayer, “Sometimes you get what you need through peace. Sometimes you get it through violence. Every facet of the greater whole that is Dragonslayer that isn’t toxic agrees ACHE should be changed and at the very least, should allow people to get what they need to survive. The least I’ve been doing has been agitating for food.” Kenji shook his head. “The ACHE doesn’t change,” said Kenji, “Never has, never will.” “The ACHE used to be the SCIRE,” said Dragonslayer, “The Self-Contained Industrial-Residential Environment. That was back when it was owned by the Renraku megacorporation before an AI that they created got loose and made it into a lab for experimenting on people. In less than fifteen years it’s transformed from corporate owned arcology, to a lab for a largely unknowable intelligence, to a government owned housing project. It does change, Kenji. You just haven’t seen it change.” Kenji’s faced twitched once at the mention of Deus, but didn’t have an argument and stayed silent. So Dragonslayer continued. “I know that it feels like the ACHE will always be like it is now, but things do change. A lot of your life was lived there, but the ACHE does change. You ever wonder where the Christmas Truce comes from?” Kenji’s face softened. It was hard not to smile when people talked about the “gently caress Christmas, Christmas Truce”, or just Christmas Truce for short. “That you?” “Yes and no,” said Dragonslayer, “Stepping into your world is difficult at the best of times. All of the mentor spirits are enormous. Even the individual facets of them are enormous. I can only directly interact with people who follow me, like you follow Dog. But even that can be traumatic, so we mostly stick to dreams. So do I have a direct hand in things? No. What you’re seeing is the influence of a number of spirits who were attracted by the activity of people. People attract our attention, we influence people, people influence us. That bounces back and forth until something happens or until it fizzles out or gets suppressed.” “Are you some sort of natural process?” asked Julie. Dragonslayer turned to her and lifted an eyebrow. “So metahumans awakened and found magic, right?” he asked. “Right.” “Animals did too.” “Yeah, they did,” said Fuzzy. “What about spirits?” “Spirits are naturally magical,” she said, as if this was obvious. “But magic has only been back in the world for about seventy years,” he said, “We’ve always been around. We were just asleep. Even when asleep you felt us and we felt you and we influenced each other. Back then we were just the spirits of the times. People get us wrong. Some think we’re gods and goddesses. Some think we’re totemic beings. Some think we’re concepts. Some think we’re just an expression of magic, completely new.” “But you don’t believe that,” said Julie. Dragonslayer shook his head. “Nope. The best I can figure, and I admit, I’m very new at this whole being awake thing, is that we’re potential spirits of the times. We’re a set of ideas, beliefs and aims of people in a given time. We manifest in a single person with strong convictions and from them, we push our mutual values. You call us, you shape us and we shape you in return. We’re vast because people are vast. We’re largely unknowable because the world is complicated. Not even all of us are spirits of the times. But a lot of us are. It’s complicated.” Everyone was silent for a time. Everyone paid attention. Everyone mulled over what was said. “drat. Now. I want a beer,” said Dragonslayer, “I am way too sober for this kind of talk.” This dragged some laughs out of everyone. Even Kenji, though his was wry. Then from behind his back, he produced a twelve pack of beer in dark bottles, completely unmarked. He cracked one open and took a long pull. “Whoa,” said Julie, “You uh...You’re really giving the game away, huh?” “Mostly I’m giving away beer,” said Dragonslayer. He nudged the now eleven-pack forward. “I know it’s not a magic cloud, but it will taste like you want it to taste. All of you have been through some poo poo, some more than others. I’m big on taking breaks and relaxing until the next fight.” “Fight, huh?” asked Kenji, suspiciously. Kenji took the beer anyway. Beer was beer. Everyone followed afterwards and the sounds of twisting tops and released carbonation followed. Chip hesitated, looking to Julie, who nodded and he cracked open his very first beer. “For what’s right, yeah,” he said, “Or maybe struggle is a better word. Dunno.” “There’s no taste,” said Chip. “Uh, yeah,” said Sasha, “I’ve had beer, but it was only Otherweiser. I don’t really want that.” “I’m drinking that,” said Kenji. “That’s because you don’t have taste buds,” said Sasha, “You tasteless buds.” “Otherweiser is an acquired taste.” “It tastes bad,” said Julie. “Yeah,” said Fuzzy. “No appreciation for the bottom shelf,” said Kenji, dramatically, “Story of my life.” “You two like sweet or bitter?” asked Dragonslayer. Everyone looked back to him. “Sweet,” said Sasha. “Also sweet,” said Chip. “Sweet it is,” said Dragonslayer. Dragonslayer poked each with a finger. “Hard cider for you, Sasha. I know it’s not technically beer, but it’s in the right kind of bottle.” Then he turned to Chip and motioned to his beer. “And I figure you’ll appreciate that, little spirit of knowledge.” Sasha drank her hard cider and smiled in appreciation. “This is...Semi-sweet,” said Chip, appreciatively, “Not as sweet as Oli’s cinnamon rolls. I thought beer wasn’t sweet. Kind of...” Chip licked his lips a few times. “Kind leaves my tongue dry though.” He caught himself before he criticized the elder spirit. Dragonslayer laughed. “First ever recorded recipe, straight out of Mesopotamia,” he said, “Figured you’d appreciate that. It’s semi-sweet because they didn’t have hops in the area back then.” Chip stared at his new bottle that contained ancient beer, or at least an ancient recipe. “How old is it?” he asked, reverently. “A few millennia,” said Dragonslayer, airily, “I remember a little about it, though not a lot. I know that I didn’t make the first beer or drink the first beer, but I was around to share the first beer with others. So grab another when you kill the one you got. If you want to taste it, just think about wanting to taste it.” Everyone did, but not everyone said that they did. Julie was one of them. It wasn’t carbonated, that she noticed right away. Semi-sweet and dry, it tasted slightly earthy as well, almost with notes of clay. It wasn’t terrible, but she switched back to her contemporary, sweet, malted drink shortly after. Beers were ingested and shared. Fuzzy, Kenji and Sasha killed theirs quick and reached for more. Sasha downed hers especially fast. The chance of relief was at her fingertips and was not to be ignored. Julie nursed her own. She was feeling good and the beer only warmed her up a little, which she appreciated, so she left the rest for everyone else. Chip drank his slowly, savoring the taste of something ancient. He was drinking something special. And so it was that the eleven pack dwindled in numbers until it was packed with no beer at all. Only the empties were left. Drinks shared, and feeling slightly less sober, Dragonslayer began to speak. “I’m not coy about what I am,” said Dragonslayer, “The animal spirits don’t change much. Animals largely know what they’re about, though people do have some influence on them since they don’t just represent animals, so they do change. The spirits most associated with people are constantly changing though. That’s me. A spirit of the times. A small piece of a geater whole.” “That makes sense,” said Julie. “I appreciate the beer,” said Kenji, “But I still gotta know. Why the gently caress do you gently caress up the ACHE?” “Kenji…” warned Fuzzy. “No, Kenji no,” said Kenji, “This is important. Drinking and chilling is fine, but I gotta know.” Dragonslayer cleared his throat and looked a little sheepish. Julie was continually fascinated by how ordinary he looked. “Truce first? I mean talking about it.” “Yeah, sure,” said Kenji. Dragonslayer nodded and sipped on the remainder of his beer. There was barely any left. “The Christmas Truce comes from peoples’ need to have a single day off from the misery and the fighting and the starving,” he explained, “It’s an old idea. It’s carnival, like uh...Mardi Gras.” “What’s a marty graw?” asked Fuzzy. “Tell you later,” whispered Sasha. Dragonslayer continued. “It’s a day to blow off all that stress. People need it, so they try to make it real. It started out as an idea in a single person, just like all ideas do. People were mixed on it at first, but people wanted it bad enough to make it real, so it spread organically and with a lot of work and a lot of luck and a lot of talking, people adopted it. Not imposed from above, but from the grass roots. Changing the attitudes of an entire group of people is drat hard and I didn’t do it alone. It’s a process. I’m part of that process. You could actually say that in a way, I am literally part of the process.” “That doesn’t explain why your people shoot up the ACHE every few years,” said Kenji. “First off, people don’t belong to me. You can’t follow me any more than you follow an ideology. I show up in response to what people feel in their hearts and cultivate it. Even then, I don’t aim for violence like that.” “Other aspects, sure,” said Kenji, dismissively, “Sounds like an excuse though.” “I don’t make excuses,” said Dragonslayer, “I help people make history rather than getting carried along by it.” “That a fact?” Dragonslayer tilted his head at Kenji, seemed to realize something from the look on his face and shook his head. “What?” asked Kenji. “Not important right now, tell you later,” said Dragonslayer, with a wave of his hand, “All right, I’ll tell you why. Surprised you don’t know. It doesn't surprise me that this history wouldn’t be taught. Seven years ago, when the ACHE had been newly repurposed into mandatory housing for the poor, and let me tell you, there were a lot of them after Crash 2.0. A lot of people got wiped out when the matrix crashed. There were emergency elections at the time. Both parties were talking about austerity in the wake of the Crash.” “What’s austerity?” asked Fuzzy. “It’s when budgets get cut,” said Dragonslayer, “In this case, the budget for food for the poor. The ACHE as a housing project was still new at this point. They were talking about deep cuts into spending on the poor because Crash 2.0 was a nightmare for everyone involved. Lots of people figured out the hard way what it meant to lack.” “Good for them,” said Kenji, coolly, “Everyone should know.” “Yeah, but it got weaponized,” said Dragonslayer, “There was enough. Even at the worst times there was almost always enough. They were talking about reducing the number of people in the ACHE, acting like it was a good thing. Getting people with identities, those SINs of yours, in regular housing. In reality, people were still being moved into the ACHE, just not people with identities. More SINless means less food and most people in the ACHE don’t have jobs because there just aren’t enough jobs due to automation. So most can’t buy food, obviously.” Kenji’s formerly cool expression turned uncertain. “Yeah, you get it,” said Dragonslayer, “They were talking about starving people. Cut back from twenty-five days of food to twenty-three.” Kenji’s face first darkened in anger, but then when he mentioned the number of days, surprise. “Wait,” said Kenji, “We only get twenty now.” “Yeah, I know,” said Dragonslayer, “It used to be more. People understood very clearly that they were going to be starved no matter the rhetoric from the top. Now there was starvation during Crash 2.0. A lot of it on purpose. It’s one of the ways that the corps asserted their power since they’re not military powers and the governments were disorganized from the Crash. But in this case, feeding the poor was an expense that the government simply didn’t want to pay even though they could do it.” “Sounds about right,” said Kenji, “They’re always looking to trim the fat. Funny who it’s the skinniest people who look the fattest to them.” “No doubt,” said Dragonslayer, “So what happened next was that tens of thousands of people overwhelmed the military checkpoints outside and rioted for days. No one, not the police, not the Seattle guard, not ordinary citizens, were able to stop them. The government and the cops thought people had been exhausted by all the chaos of the crash to kick up another riot, because there were a lot of those and most people were exhausted. They thought wrong. Before the rioters were done, much of the city’s commercial and tourist district was ruined, and a lot of that had just been rebuilt. Hundreds of millions of nuyen worth stuff had been looted and many buildings were burned.” Sasha opened her mouth to speak, but closed her mouth, clearly frustrated. Dragonslayer reached out and gently patted her on the shoulder. “You’re wondering why they were burning and looting and doing damage to all that property, right?” he asked. “You said it, not me,” she grumbled. “Kenji, maybe share why people burn and loot instead of peacefully protest,” he said, “I’m not trying to make anyone feel stupid.” “You sound like one of my teachers,” interjected Fuzzy. Dragonslayer shrugged. “I’m a mentor spirit,” he said, “Both parts are important. Kenji? Your take?” “Why don’t you explain it?” asked Kenji. “I want to hear from someone who lived that life. Even if you were probably too young to protest at the time.” “I don’t do riots,” said Kenji, “That’s a good way to get hosed up.” “I’ve been in riots,” said Julie. Everyone looked at her and she smiled anxiously. “Sorry, just…” She wiggled her beer around. Between the warmth in her belly, the talk on the grass and finally being able to relax, she felt like she could share. “I’ve been in a few,” she said. “The one here?” asked Fuzzy. “Well, I mean yeah,” said Julie, “But also...You know…” Everyone was quiet. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to talk about this in retrospect, but now she’d committed. So she pushed forward. “In prison,” she continued, “They were trying to make us work at the prison recycling center. That was the big one anyway. There were a few gang and race riots, but they were smaller. The uh...The recycling center was old and dangerous. You could come back with cuts all over you and we wouldn’t get paid. People would light their mattresses on fire and fling them out into the open. Normally we’d be shocked, but...” “How’d you get shocked?” asked Chip. Not for the first time, Julie realized that Chip didn’t know a ton about her life before Blake Island. It hadn’t exactly been taboo for him to ask, but she’d never really given him satisfactory answers either. “We had on shock collars,” said Julie, “You know, like what they put on…” She looked at Kenji and he nodded to her. “Like they put on dogs,” she continued, “That’s how Lone Star controlled us since they operated the prisons. I hear that Ares puts people in the matrix full time, but that’s just another kind of awful. Everything is in cold sim, so nothing feels normal and their bodies can get...I mean I’ve heard...Well, anyway, some people talked about peaceful protest, but it was never taken seriously. They’d just shock us until we worked or went into solitary. This whole new initiative about putting prisoners to work. Big corporate thing.” Julie made a face and ran her fingers along her slender neck in memory. “And this wasn’t the first time they’d had to riot to say no. My old celly, she told me that we had to take the pain to show that we were serious. Mages can’t afford to lose fingers. Growing them back messes with our magic unless we already had cyberware or bioware.” Everyone winced. Everyone nodded in agreement. That was easily accepted as universally bad. “So we rioted. We all disabled our collars. It wasn’t exactly hard. The things were so old.” “Why didn’t you just take them off then?” asked Chip. “Because they’d shock us if we tried.” “How’d you get them off then?” “They were so old that people knew how to take them off,” she explained, “Getting them off wasn’t the problem. The problem was accepting what that meant.” “What did it mean?” asked Chip. Chip’s heart wasn’t exactly in his eyes, but he was trying to reestablish their emotional connection. Julie wasn’t numb like she used to be when and if she thought about these things. Some of those long therapy sessions had been about prison. Handling these memories now was like picking up a piece of broken glass. Painful unless handled carefully, but now she knew how. So she established the link and could feel Chip’s worry and confusion and she sent feelings of reassurance back. “If we all did it, they couldn’t punish every single one of us as badly as a few. I mostly stayed in my cell. It got...Nasty. A lot of things were set on fire. The drones and the security spirits were overwhelmed. No one paid for good ones so it wasn’t hard to smash them with magic. Some people took some guards hostage. Some people settled grudges with the worst of the guards. A few died, but mostly it was just about holding them. We all got beaten and gassed in the end, but no one made us work at the recycling center unless we wanted to and of course, no one wanted to.” Julie took a deep breath to steady herself.. That had been a bad few days. “We got our microwave fixed, so we could have...Well, warm meals, not hot. We got better food. The recycling center was made safer. A few people went into solitary. A few people died. But things improved after that.” Kenji nodded along, Fuzzy and Chip listened intently, Sasha didn’t know how to feel. “A riot helped people take you seriously, yeah?” asked Dragonslayer. Julie nodded. “What’s worse?” asked Dragonslayer, “People burning down property that they have no connection to and taking what others say isn’t theirs, or purposefully starving people? Sometimes to death?” It wasn’t even a question to Julie. “Starving people, obviously,” said Julie, “You can rebuild property. You can make new goods. And if you want, it’ll eventually be as if nothing happened at all. At least for most property. The stuff without sentiment attached. Can’t replace that part…” Dragonslayer’s smile was gentle. “No, you can’t,” he agreed. “You can’t replace a person if they die though,” said Julie, “Dead is dead.” “Dead is dead,” echoed Kenji. The last of a few beers were sipped in silence. Julie killed hers. It was too sweet for those memories. Eventually Dragonslayer spoke up again. “So to answer why I and the spirits like me are attracted so heavily to the ACHE, Kenji,” he said, “Is because the ACHE is under pressure. A lot of life there is lived at the extremes. We show up for those with strong convictions. And I can’t help but answer. What I want, bare minimum, is for everyone to get fed. Remember what happened after Ares-Knight Errant got outed? Not the drugs, but the gangs? Why there’s a gang war on right now?” Sasha shifted uncomfortably on her patch of grass and looked away. “People paid them and they kept it quiet,” said Kenji, “Then they stopped and they went loud. What about it?” “Some of those paid off gangs were in the ACHE,” he said. “No one in the ACHE would work with the cops,” said Kenji. “Money’s money,” said Dragonslayer, “And a lot of them may not have known.” Kenji did not look happy with that statement. “I mean, yeah, money’s money,” he sighed. “That money had strings and they had one job,” said Dragonslayer, “At least the turncoat ACHE gangs did. Keep people from rioting. The crops and the government figured out that if you slap down a riot before it gets big, you can keep it from happening. It’s like fire. Beating out small fires is easy. Dealing with big fires is hard. That’s why people fight so viciously. They’re hungry. I want everyone to get food. Way more than that, but food is the big one. Everyone can agree that they want to eat. drat near universal for hungry people. And when people group up in the name of food, those gangs kill those people because they got paid to do so.” “Why can’t they just feed people?” asked Chip, “You said there’s enough.” “That’s a good question,” said Dragonslayer, “Corporations do make enough food, yeah. But they want money. Excess food gets stored and if it’s stored for too long and they don’t have enough room, they burn it and then grow it again and hope people buy it with all of that money that the poor don’t have. But because those gangs have been intimidating and killing hungry people for years now, all those gains have been chipped away. From a full month’s worth of food years ago to twenty days of food now.” “That’s dumb,” said Chip, “That’s dumb and horrible.” “I agree,” said Dragonslayer, “When things become intolerable, the cry of the poor is the riot. That’s how they are heard, because they are never, ever consulted otherwise. At least not by the people in charge.” Something occurred to Julie and Kenji at the same time. “Who’s paying-” said Kenji. “Is there going to be another-” said Julie. Both of them looked at one another. Julie motioned Kenji to speak first. “Ares got caught. They stopped paying the gangs,” said Kenji, “Are the ACHE gangs still getting paid?” Dragonslayer leaned forward and said only a single, weighty word. “No.” Julie’s stomach clenched in fear. Touristville’s southern entrance was only a block or two away from the ACHE. It’s where almost everyone lived. “Oh poo poo,” said Julie. Julie was only the first to realize the implications, save for Dragonslayer. But eventually, everyone got it. There’s going to be another riot,” said Julie, “A big one.” “Unless they get fed, most likely,” said Dragonslayer, “It’s been a few years. Long enough for a lot of people to forget. Ares discontinued paying off the gangs and they’re currently grappling with trying to eat Lone Star. So they’re distracted.” “Do you know when?” she asked. “No idea,” said Dragonslayer, “A lot of those gangs are still powerful. Give it a month, maybe two before people figure out that old rules no longer apply. Not this month most likely. But somewhere after the twentieth of next month or the one after would be the most likely boiling point. There won’t be any warning unless you’re in the ACHE. Even then, not a lot. It’ll just kick off.” Julie tried to keep control, but the fear and worry was beginning to become too much. It was a creeping dread, not immediate and Chip soothed her through their shared emotional link. She felt better, not great, but better. “Can it be changed?” asked Julie. “Oh sure,” said Dragonslayer, “Like I said, feed them.” “How much…” “Enough food for ninety-thousand people for the end of each month,” said Dragonslayer, “About ten days. Not just this month or next, but every month. Short term concessions will blunt the worst of it, but they’ll get anxious unless they know where their next meal is coming from.” Julie felt horrible. She’d been talking about making food for Fuzzy’s family and starting a small business. That had been her home room. But this? This was beyond her. “So I’m just going to ask a quick question,” he said, “What’s more important? People or property?” He pointed to Fuzzy. “People,” she said, immediately. He pointed to Chip. “People,” he said, “Am I people?” “You’re people,” said Fuzzy. There was agreement from everyone on that point. “Definitely people,” said Dragonslayer. He pointed to Kenji. “People,” he said, “But drat, a riot? It’s gonna be that bad?” “Don’t know,” said Dragonslayer. “And you’re making that happen?” Dragonslayer gave Kenji a long look. “I’m the drive that makes people want to get what they need to survive,” he said, “Not the animal part. The people part. Whatever it takes. I can’t help but show up.” “Isn’t that violence?” asked Sasha. Dragonslayer pointed his finger at her next. “Yes, it is,” he said, “If it comes to that, it will be violence. But Sasha, the violence is already being done. Food is being withheld from starving people. They have every right to seize it. And the people who sit on hoards of food like greedy dragons? They have no right. Right?” Sasha closed her eyes, took a deep breath and nodded. “Right,” she said, “People.” Dragonslayer smiled and patted her on the shoulder. “Good,” he said. He pointed to Julie and Julie felt herself gulp. “I’m worried about my community. The people and their property.” “That’s reasonable,” he said, “It’s mingled with the community. That’s a good thing.” “I don’t suppose you can tell people to skip over it?” she asked. “Not really, no,” he said, “I’m not in control of this. I have some say, but once it’s in motion, it’s in motion. I ride the tiger and I am the tiger, so to speak. They could be convinced to chill with enough food or you might be able to lock down your community. But unless they get fed, they’re going to riot.” “I know, it’s just…” Julie felt miserable. Dragonslayer put his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I’m not just going to let your community get lit on fire,” he said, “I’m not perfect. I know that. But I’m trying to get people what they need in an imperfect world. We can talk about it later if you want. I have ideas. I'd rather not riot. It's the last choice for me, not the first.” Julie nodded, but his touch was reassuring. “People then,” she said, “The people are the most important.” CYOA Time! Attempt to feed the people and stave off the riot with care, however that happens? Batten down Touristville and prepare for the riot? Or something else? --  Touristville is in danger! Eventually. If nothing is done. And this includes much of the downtown area. The ACHE is going to have food riots unless they are fed. The suppressive measures of using paid gangs has failed due getting caught and the people in charge are asleep at the wheel. Dragonslayer isn't happy about this fact, but he doesn't have a lot of say. He is compelled to show up and he doesn't want people to riot, but the denizens of the ACHE are going to learn that the rules have changed. That the threat of violence has been lifted. Before the book is over, the people of the ACHE are going to riot or they're going to get fed. Those are the only two options. And Touristville is right on their doorstep. In fact, the Southernmost edge of Touristville is where most people live. It's less than two blocks away. Touristville can shut its doors, but everything above will get looted or set on fire as tens of thousands of desperate people will look to get what they need to survive as well as voicing their rage and anger at being perpetually starved. They understand very clearly that austerity is violence and they're not going to take it for much longer. The price of feeding 90k people for ten days is high. Really high. The teens alone obviously can't afford that even though they're flush with cash. It's just too big. Though it's a pittance for the government and corps, sustainably feeding them is something that the institutions don't want to do. So the question is what we do? Do we try and provide mutual aid or do we see to ourselves? -- Also, that was a lot of writing. I tried to get to the next significant choice for the thread. Going to post a bit in I Rev Up My Katana as soon as I get some sleep. Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 13:07 on Jul 8, 2020 |
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Jul 6, 2020 06:27
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I think the answer is: coalition. Those choices are the wrong angle on this. Touristville aren't cops, and they're not corps. The solution here doesn't lie in doing the government's job for them or trying to barricade and block off a hood - because Touristville is the ACHE. They're a hood of homeless people who the city refused to feed. For the longest time, they were starving and shooting up just like the ACHE was. They pulled out of it, but recently enough that the people there probably still remember what it was. What it could be again so easily. The ACHE, the Underground, Puyallup, Redmond, they're all the same in a big way, and different in lots of small ways. The fix is somewhere in forming a coalition to actually get poo poo done. Rope in community leaders from every Barren in the city, form a coalition, set demands, and ride the riots to as many concessions as they can milk from the corps and the government. It's scary, and it sucks, but peaceful reform movements don't make progress without violent bogeymen forcing the powers that be to the table. I don't think feeding the concentration camp to keep it docile is the way to go. This situation is too hosed for anything less than systemic solutions. I think we need to keep our eyes on where this tidal wave is going so we can try to ride it somewhere productive.
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Jul 6, 2020 13:31
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While agree with everything you said above it can't hurt to try and feed them to give us more time, call Marco, tell Julian, tell savanni, tell the Tir pretty boy, call in favors, have Sasha hack like Robin hood, crowd source from our Corp connections
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Jul 6, 2020 16:00
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Short term trying to get them food seems like a good idea. It's prudent from the position of self-interested neighbors and it's also morally correct. It could also be the first step to trying to form a coalition. Long term I don't see any reason why they couldn't be set up to grow at least some of their own food.
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Jul 6, 2020 17:15
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Toughy posted:While agree with everything you said above it can't hurt to try and feed them to give us more time, call Marco, tell Julian, tell savanni, tell the Tir pretty boy, call in favors, have Sasha hack like Robin hood, crowd source from our Corp connections This, and also, lasting change will require outside backing and organization. Just be wary of what strings are attached. Tir for example might be the most likely to "help," but in a way that the team may not like long term, considering their interests and values. Also, opsec will be of utmost importance, of course. Something as simple and helpful to the city overall as getting caught smuggling a bunch of food into the ACHE sourced from a foreign government is likely to get the organizers disappeared.
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Jul 6, 2020 19:02
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Julie, Fuzzy, Kenji, Sasha, Chip and Dragonslayer- Time is Meaningless - Denny Park Construct The teens had time to mull things over after their agreement. Little was said because the very thought of feeding over a hundred-thousand people was daunting. Even if they put all of their wealth together, it simply wasn’t possible to feed everyone at a minimum level for even ten days. Instead they coasted on their clouds with Dragonslayer in the lead, rising upwards. After their talk, he was going to help them understand the specifics of the protest, even if all they had was the minute that Julie had been there so many months ago. “Let’s start from the top and go to specifics,” said Dragonslayer, “I know things and I could tell you a lot, and I will, but I’d rather get a feel for what all of you know as well. I only know so much about all of you.” Everyone silently nodded. “When you’re ready, I’ll start the construct,” he said, “If you need a break, raise your hand and we’ll take one. Don’t hesitate. I know that some people have problems looking into the void.” “The void?” asked Sasha. She’d been the first person to pipe up in minutes. “Staring into the face of evil poo poo,” said Kenji. Dragonslayer nodded. “We’re going to look at the crowd,” he said, “Remember, these are not real people and the future is not written in stone. What we’re looking at is something that will never come to pass. Something like it will, but this is no longer it.” Again, more nodding. Without further ado, Dragonslayer started the construct. It was eerily silent as he’d disabled the noise from the crowd. Everyone watched from their perches, watching what was going on. They could see the general shape of the park, mostly flat, with a smattering of trees, a playground, many paths, though these were covered by people, the streets on all four sides and of course, the Blake Island medic tent, though theirs was not the only one. Though most of the medic tents were situated on the side of the anti-racist protesters. The crowd moved, forwards, pressing. Both the anti-racist and racist models of protesters pressed in on the police. Things were thrown. Occasionally they would be beaten back. Their lines weren’t perfectly pressing the police, but pushing here and there. Lights went off on the ground and the clay figurines would shy away. “What are those?” asked Fuzzy. She pointed at the ground at the flashing lights. “A mix of flash bangs and flash-paks,” said Sasha. “What are those?” asked Fuzzy. “Which?” “Both.” Sasha nodded in understanding. “Well, flash bangs are less than lethal grenades,” explained Sasha, “They give off enough light to temporarily blind and deafen people if they’re too close. They can kill, but they’d need to land right by your feet and you’d need to be very, very unlucky. Mostly they disorient people. As for the flash-paks, you actually have one in your shield.” “Huh?” she asked, “Really?” “Yeah,” said Sasha, “A flash-pak creates strobing lights that temporarily blind and disorient people. That’s built into the middle of your shield. As far as I know, you haven’t went up against a metahuman combatant and so you haven’t had any cause to use it. Either wirelessly tell your shield to strobe or smack it with your spear and it’ll strobe for you. Turning it off is a pain. Most cops have them built into their standard uniforms though, but they run out of juice fast. They’re not energy efficient. They tend to be built small.” “I’ve seen them used in prison,” said Julie, “Not often, but it’d happen. Normally when someone went crazy and couldn’t be put down with the collar or took theirs off. Flash-bangs, gas, high pressure water, flash-paks and of course, batons. Lots and lots of batons. It was called getting tuned up.” “How cute,” drawled Kenji. “Real cute,” said Julie. Chip pointed down at the group. “Why are they firing at people?” he said, “I thought bullets killed.” Sasha grumbled. “They do,” she said, “All of them are armed, but not all of them have the standard crowd control rifles, not sure why. The rounds, again, are less than lethal. Rubber bullets got retired years ago. What are usual now are gel rounds, though someone might be taken down with stick-n-shok rounds too. Think of them like tasers you can fire. They’re allowed to be directly fired at the crowd, but even that’s dubious. The gel rounds though?” Sasha pointed at a group of police, rifles raised between the lines of police with shields. “You’re not supposed to fire gel rounds at a person within thirty feet,” she said, “Standard operating procedure is that you skip them across the ground. They’ll deform when they hit the ground, but they’re still forming and will smack against someone without severely injuring them. At least usually. They’re not doing what they’re supposed to be doing.” Dragonslayer cleared his throat. “Are you going to tell me I’m wrong?” asked Sasha. “Yeah, I’m going to tell you you’re wrong,” he said, honestly. Sasha sighed miserably. “I’m real sick of that,” she complained, “Not you...Just...gently caress, I’m sheltered.” Again came the quiet, but in a stroke of genius, Fuzzy got close enough that her cloud merged with Sasha’s and they made a much bigger cloud that both could easily fit on to their mutual satisfaction. “You know the theory,” said Dragonslayer, “I know the practice. Riot cops don’t skip shots across the ground. They aim at people directly. Often at head level, especially if they’re not wearing helmets. Though sometimes they’ll aim at the neck or groin. There are a number of people who have died, been heavily concussed or had their genitals mutilated by gel rounds. Lots of trips to the hospital, though a lot of people can’t afford that.” Everyone squirmed at that, Kenji especially though. “Well that just makes my day,” said Kenji. “Yeah,” said Dragonslayer, “It’s hosed up. I get that the handbook says to skip gel rounds, but no one actually does that.” “Got it,” said Sasha, with a sigh. “You’re missing something though,” said Dragonslayer, “The gas, specifically. Some of that comes from fireworks from the protesters, but most of that comes from the cops. Those are shot out of grenade launchers. Nothing explosive. These are the police issue forty-millimeter types. The Ares Antioch, I think.” “Antioch-2,” corrected Sasha. “Right,” said Dragonslayer, “They’re firing gas, mostly CS, makes your everything feel like it’s burning. Tried and true war crime.” “War crime?” asked Chip. “Yeah,” said Dragonslayer, “Way back when, people decided that some weapons were so nasty that they shouldn’t be used on soldiers. That includes gas. Using them on civilians? That gets a pass.” “Why?” asked Chip. “Because most nations do it,” he explained, “Technically these are less than lethal too, for all the good that means, which is gently caress all, but early on they were using expired CS gas rounds to deter people. The gas breaks down into really nasty poo poo when it expires: Cyanide oxide, phosgene gas and nitrogen gas. Julie, as the resident doctor in training, you know anything about this?” “Sanologist,” she said, “Doctors need a lot more training than what I’m doing, but they’re mundane. Magical healing is a different discipline.” “You know anything then?” he asked. Julie wracked her brain. She looked to Chip, but he only knew about patching people up as she hadn’t imbued him with knowledge of medicine more complicated than that. At least not yet. So she gave the best answer she had. “Arsenic can poison people,” she said, “It can kill.” “It can in high enough doses, yeah,” said Dragonslayer, his tone serious. “And the oxide part means that it’s an oxygen compound, so it can be dispersed in the air. So it kills people?” “Yes and no,” said Dragonslayer, “It gets on the skin and makes someone sick as hell. It temporarily paralyzes the limbs, but not all the time. People didn’t know what it was at first. It goes away after a few days if they survive, and almost everyone does, but it is genuinely terrifying.” “gently caress you, no way,” said Sasha, “That’s awful.” “Gets worse,” said Dragonslayer, “Anyone know about phosgene or nitrogen?” Again, Julie raised her hand. “You don’t have to raise your hand,” said Dragonslayer, “Just call it out.” Julie cleared her throat, somewhat embarrassed. “It’s kind of like chlorine gas,” she said, “It scalds the lungs and soft tissue really badly. In large amounts it can definitely kill you. Though I’m not sure if it melts your lungs like chlorine.” “Close enough,” said Dragonslayer. “Where’d you learn about this?” asked Kenji. Julie smiled anxiously. “Pinchface tried to use chlorine gas, remember?” asked Julie, “I learn about things to stop being afraid.” “Makes sense,” he said. “You got phosgene by chance?” asked Dragonslayer. Julie shook her head. “Makes your lungs fill up with fluid,” he explained, “You drown in your own lungs a day later. Often when you sleep.” Fuzzy let out a growl of anger. “Do they know?” she asked. “No,” said Sasha. “Yes,” said Dragonslayer, “The police aren’t chemists, but they know they’re hurting people and the people in charge of them most likely do know that they’re firing off expired rounds. Often directly at people as well and those things can kill and the fuses can malfunction and they can explode, turning them into shrapnel bombs.” Dragonslayer’s tone softened. “Luckily, the amount of poison in the gas is small. The damage isn’t always permanent. But there have been protesters that have been trapped and fired on for up to half an hour and that’s happened multiple times. Not the racist protesters by the way, that never happens. They get treated with kid gloves. Only the people protesting the recent killings as well as Ares and Lone Star for what they did with the drug trade and experimentation on children. Anyway, luckily, or maybe unluckily, the expired rounds are almost all used up. But a lot of people got injured. Some died. The people that tangled with the cops first in the early days got hosed up the worst. No one reports on that outside of social media. Anyway, I say all of this, because this is what my people are up against. They need all the support that they can get." Sasha deflated and then fell back on her cloud. There was a whispered conversation between her and Fuzzy, mostly by Fuzzy. “Need a break?” asked Dragonslayer. “No,” said Sasha. “Yes,” said Fuzzy, “Yes we do.” “Okay,” said Dragonslayer, “Sorry about this. This world isn’t a very nice one.” All was silent after his words. That is until Sasha began to cry. Sasha cried for a long while after that. Julie, Fuzzy, Kenji, Sasha, Chip and Dragonslayer- Time is Meaningless - Denny Park Construct A long time later, or perhaps not long at all, time was strange here, the teens watched the crowd as it moved. At first it looked like chaos, but as Julie looked at it, the crowd began to move in discernable patterns. No one was leading, but still, it moved like a… “What word am I looking for?” asked Julie. Chip looked up at her. “I don’t know,” he said, “Want me to guess?” He smiled at her in a way that she knew was trying to cheer her up. That talk about actual police tactics and expired gas had been awful. She checked with herself and yes, she wanted him to try cheering her up. “Go ahead,” said Julie. “Cake,” he said, immediately. “Nope.” “Apples.” “Nuh-uh.” “Chocolate and strawberry cheesecake ice cream.” Julie couldn’t help but smile. “That’s more than one word,” she said. “Yeah, but now you’re thinking about it,” he said. That was true. She was thinking about it. In fact, since she’d had something similar before, she tried to summon it up using what Sasha had taught her. Just out of sight, right behind her, would be a pint of strawberry cheesecake ice cream, like the kind she’d eaten with her friends not long ago. And a spoon. So when she turned around, to her delight, there it was. She beamed and grabbed the pint and the spoon, dug in and made a satisfied grunt of pleasure as the food hit her lips. “So good,” she said, around the spoon. “Is that…?” he began. “No chocolate,” she said, between bites, “Strawberry.” Chip puttered forwards on his cloud, so close that they might touch, and opened his mouth. “Aaaah,” he said. Julie looked at him skeptically. “You want me to spoon feed you?” she asked. Chip nodded excitedly. “Get your own pint,” she said, “Just think one up.” The skeptical look that Chip gave her reminded her that Chip couldn’t think up what he’d never tasted before. This was a problem for everyone, but especially for someone who didn’t possess taste buds and could only taste magic and memories, though he did understand texture. So Julie dug out a scoop of ice cream, established their emotional link and took a bite. The happiness of eating ice cream not only transferred to Chip, but echoed between the two until they were both dizzy from it. “Woof,” said Julie. “That was good,” he said, “Still don’t know what it tastes like.” Her mood, much improved, made her spoon feed him. Just once. Chip smiled like a kid and soon, he’d produced his own, identical pint. Then he produced a few more, zoomed over to everyone else, who’d dispersed for the moment, and handed them out, the last being Dragonslayer, who Chip gave his pint to with something approaching reverence before returning. “How is everyone?” asked Chip. “Sasha stopped crying,” said Chip, “Fuzzy is okay and she talked about spoon feeding Sasha, so she’s doing that, calling her baby bird this time. Kenji wants to comfort Sasha, but Fuzzy has it handled, so he’s just staying nearby. He’s not eating. Dragonslayer seems…” Chip paused to think and Julie perked up. “Sad,” he said, finally. “Sad?” she asked. “Yeah, sad. Quietly sad. He was happy for the gift though.” Julie considered. “Do spirits usually get sad?” she asked. “Depends,” said Chip, “Spirits of man and spirits of animals can get sad. The elemental spirits can get something like sad, but it’s really different. It's more like they get stressed. They dislike pollution and feel sad when their environment changes for the worse.” “Reminds me that I still need to bind those water spirits for Mr. Peters. Ones with the purify water spell,” said Julie, “We’re doing that cleanup project.” “Do you know where?” asked Chip. Julie shook her head. “It was part of the promise for him helping Oli get in school,” she said, “I mean, he did me a huge favor, but still, I’m not the greatest at summoning spirits.” “You summoned me,” said Chip. Julie grinned. “Well yeah, I worked on you for…” Julie paused in thought. “Well, I didn’t make you,” she said, “It was more like I filled up a tiny spirit with my best qualities.” Julie was glad that she’d cut their emotional connection to stop the ice cream overflow, because not for the first time she realized that it was very possible that giving Chip all of the best qualities she’d learned about herself and keeping most of the bad probably contributed to her being a mess for so long. Still, whenever she looked at him, it was hard not to be happy with her decision. Originally she’d just wanted a spirit that could help her full time as summoning materials were expensive, but he’d grown into so much more. In retrospect, it had been weird to create what was essentially a new person out of little more than a tiny spirit, magic and her experiences. People created people all the time though. Some of them even came to her doctor’s office with that condition. It wasn’t like that with Chip. It was both more and less complicated in a way that she couldn’t explain to people. The direct emotional connection alone was something she had a hard time explaining, even to herself. “You all right?” asked Chip. “Just thinking,” said Julie. “What about?” “About you.” Chip smiled and made a “go on” motion with his spoon before plunging it back into the ice cream. “Just...You know, I made you,” she said, “I mean, not completely, but I filled up the tiny you and you became who you are today.” Chip nodded along at this. “I read up on it,” she said, “Most ally spirits aren’t considered family by their summoners. Most are for academic purposes. A kind of advanced homunculus.” “What’s a homunculus?” asked Chip. “It means little man,” said Julie, “A long time ago, before magic came back, people used to think that they could create little people with alchemy to help them do things. These days, a homunculus is more of a magical helper with mundane tasks- A magical gofer.” Chip pulled back two front teeth and puffed up his cheeks at the same time. “Gopher?” he asked. “Not that kind of gopher,” she said, with a grin, “A gofer is someone who say...Cleans your room or moves around books or stuff like that. A homunculus does that. They’re not quite spirits. Spirits are way smarter. They’re more like...Hmm…” Julie tapped her spoon against her cheek and she realized that Kenji was listening in, so she motioned him on over. “Hey,” she said. “Yo,” said Kenji. “Hiya,” said Chip, “Like your ice cream?” “It’s all right,” said Kenji, “I could do with some chocolate or something in it though.” “I want to try it,” said Chip, “I want to try so many things. Dream food is great. I can actually taste dream food.” “I thought you tasted Oli’s food,” said Kenji. “I taste the magic,” said Chip, “It’s almost the same, but not quite. Oli’s food tastes better, but I have to wait for her to make it. When I taste food, I can taste it forever though.” “You want a food library?” asked Kenji. “Yeah!” he said, excitedly, “Do they have those?” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A9vTUTPmQbs “Not really, no,” said Kenji. Chip sighed. “Hey, what was that about a magical gofer?” asked Kenji. “The homunculus?” she asked. “Yeah, that.” “Oh, uh…” Julie thought about it. “It’s a ritual,” she said, “And they can do simple tasks, but they’ll get frustrated and stop if it’s too complicated. Normally they need at least a little supervision or a really, really easy task. Something that can be repeated over and over again.” Kenji nodded along. “Do they get strong?” he asked. “They can get that way,” she said. “Do they just poof into existence like a spirit?” “No, you need to make them,” she said. “Like an art project?” “Yeah, like that.” Kenji nodded along in thought and rubbed his chin. Though he did cast a glance in Fuzzy and Sasha’s direction to check on them. “I can do rituals,” he said, “Right?” “You can do some,” she said, “Sometimes you can substitute knowledge of a skill for knowledge of a ritual. It’s really case by case for each ritual.” Kenji raised a finger. “I’ve got two classes with Peters this semester and I don’t want to pay for artificing supplies, one of those supplies is literally my experiences if I don’t want to pay, but I can grab them second hand if I do that environmental stuff, right?” Julie smiled. “You want to do that?” she asked, “Pick up trash?” “Me? No,” he said, “But if I happen to make a little dude with an art project to do that for me, or maybe a couple, then I’m not seen cleaning up trash, so I don’t get poo poo about it.” Julie frowned at him. “That’s kind of shallow,” she said. “Some people, yeah. I impress the shallow people with my cleverness, the environmental people with my willingness to do stuff, my teachers who will give me things and maybe Dragonslayer will give me some brownie points. Results matter.” “That sounds really lazy,” she said. “Yeah?” he asked, “How long do they stick around?” Julie tried to think about the calculations for the spell. It was a matter of the overall level of magic times the skill resisted by material. Natural materials being easy to work with, processed materials being near impossible. “For you?” she asked, “A week, maybe two if you used natural ingredients.” “Like wood and rocks and all that?” he asked. “Yeah,” said Julie. Kenji considered. “Okay, yeah. Quick art conference. Sans Oli, but that can’t be helped. Bring it in.” Everyone moved their clouds closer. “So I make a little wood or stone man,” said Kenji, “But, I figure that I get my hands on some scrap marble. People make countertops out of those and throw all the marble away, because people are weird. Anyway, we have those shaping spells. You know, elements. Shape water, ice, stone, all that. Someone has to shape marble in Seattle. Like there’s got to be someone making a killing off buying up scrap marble and lumping it back together for nuyen. So I souce some scrap marble, get Oli to make…” “Is Oli a sculptor?” asked Julie. “She’s got magic,” said Kenji, “Can’t hurt to ask.” “You want a marble homunculus?” asked Chip, “That sounds neat.” “Right?” he asked. “It’ll also be picking up trash,” said Julie, “Oli has a hard enough time as it is. I know that you could probably get away with that, but I don’t want her getting bullied.” Kenji sighed. “Yeeeeah,” he complained, “Wait, maybe put it on a different beach. People see it. It’s cool magic. It’s an art project. Maybe drum up some hype for Oli’s art. It’s art that makes their world beautiful. What’s not to love? And I earn all sorts of brownie points with people. I kind of need that.” Julie considered this. “Marble will get eaten up by the acid rain,” she said, “You ever been to any of the…” She looked down at the Denny Park construct and grimaced. “Parks?” she asked, “A lot of those old statutes are pitted.” “poo poo. No good.” “Uh...Just use um…” Julie dug through her memories. Countless hours of learning about Blake Island on walks from the interactive audiobooks voiced by Mr. Peters. Geology had been on them and acid rain had been a topic, though the island had a maintained purify water spell over it, which was why the flora and fauna was in such wonderful condition. “Feldspar,” she said, “They’re resistant to acid rain.” “What’s that?” asked Chip. “Yeah, seriously, what’s that?” “Magma rocks,” said Julie, “Well, not perfectly, but…” “Okay, magma rocks, cool,” said Kenji, “Any cool looking ones?” “Quartz?” she asked, “Yeah, quartz.” “I don’t know what quartz is,” said Kenji. “Me either,” said Chip. "They’re tougher than granite.” Again she was met with blank stares. “Granite is also what people make tabletops out of,” she sighed, “Quartz is a crystal, so it’s tough.” Kenji gave Julie triumphant smile and raised his hands into the air. “I love it when you know things,” he said, “All right, gonna make a stone homunculus for me and see if I can get Oli to throw down for a crystal homunculus. Maybe find uh...Someone to make it big. Do the homunculus things get big?” “They can get up to hundreds of pounds, yeah. Otherwise I wouldn’t have said that they can pick up…” Kenji wasn’t listening at the moment, she noticed, so she'd stopped. “Crystal homunculus, you will solve so many of my problems,” mused Kenji, “Hell yeah.” “You’re in a mood,” said Julie. Kenji noticed her once more. “Yeah uh, I’m going for surgery tomorrow after that visit from whoever decides our lives,” he said, “You know, the CPS person? I need something to impress since again, I’ve been on some poo poo lists lately. I figure that a crystal homunculus that picks up trash will get me in the good graces of a lot of people. Plus uh...I won’t be able to pick up more than five pounds of weight for a week. Got talked to by a doctor.” “Why’s that?” asked Chip. Kenji pointed to his sinuses. “I’ll need to heal up,” he said, “So I figure I’d learn a new spell.” “In a week?” asked Julie. Kenji nudged Chip. “Help me out?” asked Kenji, “I want to get it done before the week is over.” Chip looked to Julie, who sighed. “He works nights you know,” said Julie. “And he doesn’t sleep,” said Kenji, “Get you something cool?” Chip considered and looked back to Julie, who nodded. “Okay, yeah,” said Julie, “Everyone is going to be busy and I’m not and there’s that whole CPS thing and…” Kenji patted Julie on the shoulder. “I’m not going to let anything happen,” he said, “Something bad happened, we go through the rituals. We’re not getting broken up.” “How do you know?” asked Julie, anxiously. This had been bothering her and she still didn’t know what to do. “Oh, easy,” said Kenji, “Bribery.” Julie blinked. “What?” “Bribery,” repeated Kenji, “I’ll bribe someone. I’ve got money. So I’ll bribe the CPS rep or their boss or their boss’ boss or whoever makes this go away. However high up the chain you go, someone always has their hand out. You just gotta find that hand, know how to place creds in just the right way and then the problem goes away. I’m hoping that the rep who shows up tomorrow has their hand out, because that’ll make it cheaper, but whatever.” Julie was wildly conflicted. But it was Chip that spoke up. “Wait,” said Chip, “You have someone coming by who is part of this government thing, who is judging if you should all stay together because Julian got in trouble, and you can just pay them to go away?” “Yeah,” said Kenji. “That’s dumb,” said Chip, “Why show up if you just want money?” “How else would they get paid?” asked Kenji. Julie grumbled and angrily stuffed ice cream into her mouth. “I really don’t like the lessons you’re teaching Chip,” she said. “I mean,” said Kenji, “They’re right though.” Julie didn’t want to answer that, so she didn’t, even when Chip looked to her and then back to Kenji again. “That’s dumb,” said Chip, “Your world makes no sense.” “Nope, it doesn’t,” said Kenji, “You just have to understand the nonsense rules. That's how you get by. A crystal homunculus sounds cool and the rep will love it too. A lot of other people too." “Why would it matter if they just have their hand out?” she asked. “Oh, you got to ease some people into a bribe,” said Kenji, “They need their conscience soothed first. It's got to be smooth. And what's smoother than a guy who's found a new passion in art and activism? Anyway, good talk. Gonna check on Fuzzy and Sasha. Thanks for the help.” Kenji puttered away in their direction. Julie felt drained and looked at her ice cream. It was almost gone. Then she put the cap on the pint and imagined more. This time with chocolate with the strawberries, which she shared with Chip, to his delight. “Your world is dumb and confusing a lot of the time,” said Chip. “I know,” complained Julie. “Why?” “Dumb people I guess. They're in charge.” “Why are they in charge?” “I don’t know. I just want to eat ice cream.” And so they did. "So I'm not a homunculus, right?" asked Chip. Julie smiled. "No, definitely not. Keep going like you are and you're on course for little brother." Really?!" asked Chip. His sudden excitement was infectious. "Hey, what did you think about what Dragonslayer sai..." Julie raised a finger to Chip's lips and silenced him. "We're taking a break, even Kenji, I think," she said, "We have the time. We'll get back to it in a bit, but not before everyone is ready. Now eat your ice cream." Chip smiled sheepishly and nodded. They both ate and it was good. Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 02:40 on Jul 9, 2020 |
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Jul 8, 2020 15:28
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I'll edit this later. Went on a writing tear, but now I'm sleepy. Gonna get a nap. Maybe write more later.
Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 15:46 on Jul 8, 2020 |
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Jul 8, 2020 15:28
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Julie, Fuzzy, Kenji, Sasha, Chip and Dragonslayer- Time is Meaningless - Denny Park Construct “No, they won’t run like that,” said Fuzzy, “They’ll run like this. Look at the terrain.” Now that Sasha was feeling better, everyone looked down on the construct from their clouds. “Are you sure?” asked Sasha. Fuzzy nodded seriously and began to point at different features of the terrain as she began to name them. “I’m positive. Not all of the terrain is actually flat. There’s a dog park here blocking things with that waist high fence and the park is actually pretty big. Over there? A playground. There's raised beds for flowers and shrubs along the trails too. Not to mention that people generally follow the pathways, even though they don’t have to. It means that people move in certain ways. So they’ll bunch up in the middle and where people bunch up, they’ll get injured.” They took a minute and sure enough, the subtle features of the park were shaping the crowd’s movement just like Fuzzy said, which was easier to see as she expertly pointed it out. They were at the very end of Julie’s vision of the future. However, the construct could still run after that, they discovered, though none of this was certain after the record of Julie’s prophecy ended. It was just theory. Still, Fuzzy had an intuitive sense of how the herd of people moved. “The people in front of the cops get shot, fall down, they get hurt,” she continued, “That’s bad, but that's not where most of the injuries are going to be. Most of the people getting hurt on each side are in the middle. The people in the front flee and stampede. The people in the back are confused and curious. So many rush forward, which restricts the movement of everyone else. The people on the sides are best off, because everyone is running away, not to the sides.” “Why not move to the sides?” asked Julie. “Running away from danger is instinct,” said Fuzzy, “Moving with the crowd is instinct. Also, if you try to move in a way that doesn’t move with the crowd, like to the side, you chance falling down and getting trampled. Some people move to the sides where coverage is less dense, but most people don’t think like that, especially when you're in the crowd. So between the people in front running away and the people in back running forward, the people in the middle get it the worst.” “They’re going to get trampled and suffocate,” said Julie, in realization. “Crushed too,” said Fuzzy, “Like I said, wherever people bunch up, they’ll get hurt.” “How do you know all of this?” asked Kenji. Fuzzy shrugged. “I don’t do it as much anymore, but I used hunt via trapping,” she explained, “It was way easier than bow hunting if you understood how animals move.” “Why don’t you do it anymore?” asked Chip. Fuzzy made a face. “I was told not to because Blake Island is a sanctuary for a lot of threatened wildlife,” she said, “Nothing endangered, otherwise getting Fluffy on the island wouldn’t have been possible. Mr. Peters removed another owl so Fluffy could be there though and I’m supposed to feed him so he doesn’t hunt as much. I’m only supposed to hunt animals I’m specifically cleared for. So many birds and raccoons and…” “I like the raccoons,” said Sasha, “They’re really cute.” “They’re beggars and they’re still wild animals, even if they look cute.” “Their little paws though,” cooed Sasha. As Sasha cooed, Julie giggled, Chip laughed, Kenji smirked, Fuzzy huffed in frustration and Dragonslayer watched and smiled. Julie was definitely in the pro-raccoon camp, even though she knew not to feed or touch them. A few students had been bitten over the years by the island’s raccoons when they confused them with pets and those raccoons were always removed as a result. “Anyway,” said Fuzzy, “If you do any trapping, you have to know how animals behave and move along terrain or you’ll have a hard time catching anything. People don’t move like most of the barrens critters, but they do move in certain ways when they’re in groups. I notice these things. You know, in case I need to move through people quickly or get away.” “Notice this all the time do you?” teased Sasha. “Yeah, all the time,” said Fuzzy, seriously. Fuzzy didn’t seem to notice the looks the others were giving her. Being situationally aware when around large groups of people was obvious to her. “Like I was saying though,” continued Fuzzy, “People are going to move in certain ways. The side we’ll be on is at more of a disadvantage because we have more obstructions. Dog park, playground, medic tents, some parked cars and the raised gardens. The other side only has the cars and just the one medic tent. They’re going to hurt too, but we’ll hurt way worse unless we figure out something to do.” “So the way the park is set up,” said Dragonslayer, “Is to make protests easy to break up. There are a lot of low key funnels in its design. Even though it looks flat, and it mostly is, those funnels allow police with limited forces to push protesters around. A dozen can move hundreds if they push in the right way. They didn’t expect a crowd of this size though or the too small amount of police. The park is a kind of trap, but there are too few police and too many protesters, so they can’t spring it.” Sasha stared down at it from her cloud. “But it’s so flat,” she said, “There aren’t enough funnels to move everyone.” “You don’t need to move everyone,” said Dragonslayer, “Once the crowd gets moving, the crowd moves the rest of the crowd. It’s made to minimize the number of police needed on the ground. They couldn’t get rid of this park or make it smaller. There were too many people who wanted a historical green space to survive. So they just redesigned it to make it easy to sweep people out. Authoritarians don’t like places where masses of people can gather.” Sasha stared down at the park and frowned. “Yeah...Yeah, now that I can see that,” she said, begrudgingly, “The design anyway. I never expected studying about security design to be used like this. Anything left to be seen from up here?” “Not much,” said Dragonslayer. “I want to take a look at the cops,” said Sasha “Everyone else good with that?” asked Dragonslayer. There were no complaints and so one by one, they zoomed down towards the middle of a very thin line of life sized clay police officers that stretched the length of the park and into the street, though they were bulked out by cars and drones to keep the line from growing even thinner. It was odd, but none of the teens had actually looked at the cops up close just yet. To Julie, now that she was here and paying attention, they were a mix of people of all shapes and sizes from as small as dwarves to as tall as trolls, though the vast, vast majority of them were averaged sized, meaning humans, orks and elves. What she noticed was that there were a surprising number of overweight police. Not most of them, but here and there, she could see the telltale signs of obesity, even morbid obesity in a few cases. Those people in particular looked like they could barely fit into their armor. "You need a diet way more than me," she said. “The gently caress?” said Sasha. Julie turned her head and saw Sasha step off her cloud. The rest watched her as she took off the helmet of one of the riot cops, revealing a representation of a young, ork woman with dark skin, the same color as Julie’s. The resemblance ended there though as the woman's features were blunt and angry looking. “What?” asked Kenji. Sasha wasn’t paying attention. Instead she was walking up and down the dual lines, checking armor. Now that she was looking at it, Julie found it odd how just much of the armor was mismatched. It was all black, sure, save for the helmets. Knight-Errant tended to wear black with a bit of gold as their colors, though today they wore all black. However, Julie did a double take when she noticed one of the cops. No, not a cop, but a corrections officer in prison riot armor. She’d never forget the look of it. All black and angular, made for deflecting hand weapons. “What are CO’s doing on a police line?” asked Julie. “CO’s?” asked Fuzzy. “Correction officers,” said Julie, “They’re in riot gear. I’ve seen them enough to know them on sight.” “I don’t know,” said Kenji, “But them over here? They're mercs. I’ve seen them at the docks enough to know this armor. This is heavy security armor. The only thing heavier than this is military grade gear. But this guy over here? He’s wearing an undercover vest over his clothes and his gun looks battered. It's all mishmashed if you look past the riot shields.” He pointed at sleek, black body armor and shiny, well kept milspec weapons on their bodies. The shields they all carried said police, but that was where the similarities ended save that they were all armored, armored and wore black. “These are Lone Star cops,” said Sasha, “What the hell?” “How can you tell?” asked Chip. “They’re not doing that hot,” said Sasha, without looking his way, “Well, definitely not now since they got bought out, but before then? Bad. They lost the policing contract for most of Seattle. Everything but the barrens and the prisons. There’s barely any money in the barrens and they don’t get much in the way of armor, so they tend to scrounge. A lot of their gear is mismatched or completely DIY.” “This armor is Puyallup style,” said Fuzzy, “Stripped down for speed, reinforced vitals. You can tell by the way this one wears it. They’re Lone Star?” “Yeah…” said Sasha, thoughtfully. “Is this normal?” asked Julie, “Bringing in a bunch of different people to control a riot?” Sasha shook her head violently. “No, no this is definitely not normal,” she said, “This is so beyond normal that I can’t even...I mean, normally you have a single corporation on the lines. But here? I mean, maybe someone is in charge of this mess, but if they are, they have to coordinate between at least half a dozen chains of command. There are different protocols, different lingo and cops and people who are cop adjacent absolutely don’t like listening to people not in their chain of command. There’s no trust. So it's a big loving mess.” “So what does this mean?” asked Julie. “poo poo’s hosed,” said Kenji. “That’s about right,” said Dragonslayer. Everyone turned to him. He shrugged. “I’m mostly learning about this while all of you do,” he said, “You’re doing a good job. Keep going. If you need to back off though, there's no shame in that." Sasha hissed through her teeth, hopped up on her cloud again and ascended. She took a long look at the clay police and then upwards, at the identical drones, hung from strings like model planes. “They’re hiding behind the shields,” said Sasha, “Trying to keep people from seeing that they’re disorganized. They’re using the frosted version of the shields, one way glass. They can see out, but protesters can’t see in. They will anyway. This shield line is really thin. I just...Things are really, really bad for the police if they’re scraping the barrel this deep to fill out a double line. They can’t retreat if pressed. They’re completely exposed here.” Everyone kept quiet as Sasha scooted up close, inspecting each clay officer on the line. “I can’t even tell who’s in charge." She began removing the replica firearms from the police and pulled out the magazines, inspecting some, throwing some away, keeping others. Chip looked to Fuzzy and whispered. “Is she okay?” he asked. “I’m not sure,” she whispered back, “I thought her anxiety was taken care of, but I...I don’t know.” “Should we take a break?” “I think…” “Live loving rounds!” she screamed, “Lone Star have live rounds loaded and they’re almost half the line! I can’t find any less than lethal options on them at all except for stun batons! Not even mace. The prison guards have live rounds racked too! What the gently caress?! What the hell are they doing on the line if they have live rounds in the chamber?!” Fuzzy approached, but Sasha wasn’t persuaded to stop no matter her girlfriend’s normally calming touches. Instead she was removing magazines from weapons, checking them and then angrily hurling them into the crowd. She whirled on Dragonslayer. “Okay, I’m tired of discovering all of this bullshit,” she snapped, “Why the gently caress doesn’t Lone Star have a single loving gel round on them? Huh? You’re so smart. Tell me that.” “Sasha, I think we need another break,” said Dragonslayer. “No, Sasha doesn’t need another break,” she seethed, “Sasha needs answers.” Again, Fuzzy tried to reach out for Sasha’s hand, but Sasha backed away. “I don’t!” she exclaimed, and then settled just enough to speak in low tones, “I don’t want to be touched right now.” Fuzzy hung her head, shoulders drooping. The hurt she’d dealt Fuzzy seemed to snap Sasha out of it and she reached out, but hesitated. “Sorry just...It’s all so much,” she said, “I want to take a break, but I want to get this over. I don’t want to come back. I know that the Lone Star people, the police officers and prison guards are using lethal rounds. Everyone else has less lethal loaded. There have to be so many chains of command working. The line is thin. There’s total chaos. Just...Show me what starts this. That’s what I need to know. Show me what starts this and I’ll take as long a break as we need to.” “I think we should take the break now,” said Julie. “I want to leave!” exclaimed Sasha, “I want to go. All this cutesy artsy stuff?” She waved a hand at Oracle’s construct. “It’s a happy smile on some ugly poo poo. I just want to know so I can go.” Dragonslayer rubbed a hand over his face. “I can take away the crowd,” he said, “I’ll keep the line. I’ll show you what instigates this. But later. You need a break.” “gently caress a break,” said Sasha, “Now.” “Sasha, I think you should listen,” said Kenji. “Now! I want to know and get the gently caress out.” “No,” said Dragonslayer, “You are not thinking straight right now. Too much time spent staring into the void. Time to pull up. We’ll go elsewhere. We’ll sit down. We’ll talk. We’ll decompress. We'll come back fresh to finish up.” “I think that’s for the best,” said Julie. “Sasha, you need to stop,” said Kenji. “You stop! All of you stop! I'm not stupid!” "No one is saying you're stupid, Sasha," said Chip. "I have my nose constantly rubbed in how stupid I am!" she exclaimed, "Well I get it. I'm stupid. And I'm tired of being stupid. I want to figure this out and go." Sasha concentrated, waved a hand and the crowd disappeared. All but one, a lone protester not twenty feet away, now animated. The police line grew animated as well. Seeming to face off alone against the cops, the protester flung something at the police lone. A solitary plastic bottle of water, a particularly large one at that, cap off, spun in the air, spraying liquid right up until the moment that it smacked into a helmet of a police officer. The officer reeled, dropped their shield, unslung their weapon and aimed and fired. The protester with the water bottle was gunned down. In response, all up and down the line, shields were dropped, weapons were drawn and then fired. Even the drones above opened fire. For ten long seconds, an entire line of police sprayed gunfire in both directions towards protesters that were no longer there. Everyone watched as the grounds of the park were ripped apart by gunfire and then reassembled by the magic of the construct. Everyone stared, but no one more than Sasha. She turned to her friends, turned to the great spirit of Dragonslayer. Her voice was shaky, breathing unsteady. “I thought this was one person, ordering something awful,” she said, “You can blame a single person. They can pay. But this?” She couldn’t muster the strength to point, but her eyes bored into the officer who’d started it. “This is panic fire,” she said, “One cop shoots, the others think they’re in danger, they shoot and so on and so on and on and on and on it’s infectious. And it started because someone with a gun and a badge lost their temper and gunned down a protester for throwing a water bottle at their head.” An ugly sound, half sob, half chuckle erupted out of Sasha’s mouth “This whole thing is beyond hosed and I don’t know how everyone got here,” she said, “But the massacre? It started because some cop didn’t like getting hit with a water bottle. And then everyone else panicked and opened fire when they did. I can't find anyone in charge. I don't think anyone is in charge. No one knows what they’re doing. Hundreds of people died because some cop couldn’t shrug off a drat water bottle.” Sasha was quiet for a while. Everyone was. No one knew what to say. Except for Dragonslayer. "Sasha, we're going to get that break right now." Sasha jerkily nodded her head. "Okay," she said, her voice strangled, "Sounds good." Sasha allowed herself to be guided away. "Just a loving water bottle." "I know," said Dragonslayer. "Those get thrown all the time, right?" "Yeah, they do." "So why?" Sasha looked up at Dragonslayer, her eyes big and hoping for answers. "Why what?" asked Dragonslayer. "Why?" He patted her on the shoulder. "A lot of reasons," he said, "Ones we'll talk about later. We're going to leave now." "Really?" asked Sasha, hopefully. "Really. We're going." Sasha nodded far too eagerly. "Okay. That's...That's good." Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 21:45 on Jul 9, 2020 |
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Jul 9, 2020 21:28
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Sasha needs it her whole world perspective is getting torn up :-(
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Jul 9, 2020 21:46
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This is definitely running along the same lines as Joyce's crisis. A personality collapse of sorts because of learning the ugly truth behind the organization that they've been indoctrinated on. Only the problem is stronger here because Sasha is still currently living in the area where her organization has strong influences. Oof.
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Jul 9, 2020 23:36
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Toughy posted:Sasha needs it her whole world perspective is getting torn up :-( Keldulas posted:This is definitely running along the same lines as Joyce's crisis. A personality collapse of sorts because of learning the ugly truth behind the organization that they've been indoctrinated on. Only the problem is stronger here because Sasha is still currently living in the area where her organization has strong influences. Yeah, Sasha is having a bad time. Her identity was heavily wrapped up in police and policing and she was going to be that third generation police officer. A cop from a cop family on both sides, even if she was going to manage them eventually. And all of that is unraveling. She's seeing the naked face of what policing is without the propaganda (copoganda) and it's horrifying. Also as someone who has been watching a ton of protest streams lately by the by, a massacre kicking off because of a water bottle, a single cop shooting and then panic fire feels very on brand for 2020. Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 03:49 on Jul 10, 2020 |
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Jul 10, 2020 03:40
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A crisis of faith.
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Jul 10, 2020 13:07
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Julie, Fuzzy, Kenji, Sasha, Chip and Dragonslayer- Time is Meaningless - Amalgam Bar and Grill “A bar, huh?” asked Kenji, “Anyone catch its name?” Before Sasha broke down, Dragonslayer had led them across the construct and through an unassuming side door. Apparently when they were with him, they wouldn’t get lost. Despite the fact that they’d entered into what had looked like a corporate office full of cubicles from the outside, they instead entered into a dimly lit bar. However, Dragonslayer had changed. Gone was the young man with dark skin wearing protest gear. In his place was a pale elven woman, with full sleeve tattoos all the way to the fingers and more hinted at her neck. Her burgundy colored hair cut in short, messy spikes, possessed of a pointed chin, full lips, hazel eyes and a hook nose. As for his ensemble, or rather, her ensemble, she was wearing a white, button down shirt, black slacks, dark synthleather boots and suspenders which framed a generous chest. “It doesn’t have a name,” said Dragonslayer, whose voice had changed to the feminine, high pitched this time, “Think of it as a mishmash of a few local hangouts where you’ll find like minded people. Call it uh...Amalgam or something. I dunno.” Everyone stopped and stared at Dragonslayer, save for Chip, who was checking out the bar. Dragonslayer turned a smirk on everyone, putting a hand on a slender hip and cocking it. “You changed looks,” said Fuzzy, voice uncertain. “I told you,” she said, “I’m the courage of ordinary people and direct action. No gender. No race. No aesthetic. Just kickass people.” She hooked a thumb towards herself. “This person owns a bar and opens it up after last call for the medics because their stands and gear keep getting vandalized. That worked for a while, but she’s dealing with some poo poo for it. A lot of poo poo in fact. But that’s a different story.” Dragonslayer kept walking and stepped behind the bar. “Plus she’s knows how to mix drinks and talk better than the last guy,” she said, with a theatrical wink, “Not everyone is good at the same things and I don’t know that much more than the person I’m channeling at the time. I mean, I still know it, but it’s harder to grasp. I’m something of a group project.” Unlike everyone else, Chip hadn’t followed to the bar. Instead he was staring at a pool table in the corner and was touching the smooth, green billiard cloth in obvious fascination. “What’s this?” asked Chip. Kenji peeled away from the group to talk to him and with a turn of her head, hands fidgeting, Fuzzy looked from Sasha and then to Chip and went along with him. “That’s a pool table,” said Kenji, “You hit balls into these pockets with a pool cue. That’s the stick over there.” The mention of “stick” got both Fuzzy and Chip’s attention, though for different reasons. Sure enough, Fuzzy found one that was just her size and almost completely black, though unlike her Spearknife, it was tapered and blunt at the end, its tip white and blue. Again she looked back to Sasha, who was moving up to the bar, but her fidgeting had stopped now that she’d picked something up. Likely it’s why she did. And as Kenji looked back at Sasha, who was sidling up to the bar, Julie broke away to speak to him, though he spoke first. “I’ll go talk to her,” said Kenji. Julie almost hesitated, but she put her hand on Kenji’s shoulder before he walked away. He stopped and turned his head. “What’s up?” he asked. “I’ll talk to her. Maybe you teach everyone else how to play pool?” Kenji considered this. He still wasn’t feeling great. Though he had an urge to help Sasha, it was Fuzzy that his gaze lingered on. “Think you can handle it?” he asked, quietly. “I’ll try.” He nodded, grabbed a pool cue, a rack and tried to find some balls, but they were behind the glass. His hand went into his pocket and he frowned. “Don’t got a credstick,” he said. Julie thought of one in her pocket with a few nuyen on it, enough to play pool with. Sure enough, one was in her pocket and she pulled it out, shiny and black, looking about the size and shape of a pencil. The readout said twenty nuyen. “Got you covered,” she said, with a grin. “Good thing you had one,” he said. “I didn’t, I summoned it,” she said, with a grin, “Sasha showed me how. Speaking of her, I’m going to go talk.” She slapped the credstick into Kenji’s hand and turned around. What she was met with now that she really looked at the place wasn’t one bar, but four, each with different aesthetics. Not that Julie was knowledgeable about these things, but each was sectioned off into its own little square. Where she took in the bar itself. In the corner there were two pool tables on smooth stone floors. Green lamps hung above the tables, shining down and illuminating them through the gloom. There was even an ancient style arcade game that made noises, packed with a century’s worth of games to choose from. Or so the side boasted. There were even a few...Julie had to rack her brain for this, but came up with the word “quarters” placed on the bottom of the screen, though she had no idea why. The second bar beyond it was dimly lit in a slight contrast to the gloom, but the line between the two was stark. The floor and bar was synthwood, the stools as well, though the seats were cushioned. Behind that portion of the bar, a blackboard with colorful chalk had drinks and prices for the night and shelves and shelves of liquor were behind it. In one corner was a raised platform with ancient looking sound equipment, a microphone and an acoustic guitar leaning against the wall, awaiting hands to make music. The third bar had that sports bar feel, which Julie was familiar with as it had the feel of a place that she’d visited in her childhood with her parents. The trids were on and showing different sports in action from combat biking to urban brawl, even something as wholesome as baseball. The floor here was multi-colored tile, the stools metallic, cushions well worn. The bottles had a different feel to them as well. She she had a harder time putting her finger on it. Less expensive than the other bar maybe? Finally, in one corner, everything was chrome and neon. The bottles were a declaration of art, not just alcohol, some shiny and silver, some so clear she could only see the outlines of what contained the alcohol, some chrome, some colorful glass in strange shapes, and a bartop that was polished chrome. There were no stools, only dark boots for people to sit away from the bar. The majority of this area had a dance floor and a fog machine was currently going, neon signs indistinct in the gloom, though that fog evaporated before touching anything else. Distantly, as she neared it, she could hear the bass pumping, unfamiliar music. Something that made her want to dance until her mascara ran from the sweat, even though she wasn’t wearing mascara. “Weird,” she said. She headed towards where Sasha was sitting down, leaning on the table on her arms, head down in what Julie thought of as “live music bar”, though she went to “sports bar” and grabbed a stool and drug it with her. As she entered, the sounds of the bar sparked to life, a baseball game playing. “Here’s the windup,” said an announcer, “And the pitch.” She didn’t wait around for the results and so the announcer’s voice suddenly cut off as she dragged the comfy stool with her. As she arrived, pulling out another stool to sit near Sasha, Dragonslayer smiled at her. “Look at you, mixing up aesthetics,” she said, cheerily, “I like that. Aesthetics can be fun, but they’re also bullshit without the heart. Anyway, now it’s an amalgam.” Julie thought about the world. To blend or to mix. Finally she got the joke and laughed. “Good word for a bar like this,” she said. “I do what I can,” said Dragonslayer, “Speaking of mixing, either of you want something to drink? Or maybe some food?” Julie knitted her brows together as she looked to Sasha, whose head was completely down in her arms. Dragonslayer leaned in. “We just had beers,” she whispered. “I know,” said Dragonslayer, “This is a dream. Well...A dream and a kind of planar walk. I’m controlling how much alcohol you consume, so you’ll get as drunk as you want until I cut you off. But unlike other bars, I can keep feeding you drinks. You just won’t get any drunker. So get something you like.” Julie leaned back and considered this. Then a wonderful thought struck her. “No calories, right?” “Right.” Julie’s heart quickened as she realized what that meant. “You mean to tell me that I can eat zero calorie bar food?” she asked, in awe. “Hell yeah,” said Dragonslayer. “Will I get full?” “Hell no.” Julie couldn’t stop the guilt over eating food, but she realized, intellectually anyway, that dream food wouldn’t make her fat. “Not just bar food,” said Dragonslayer, as she hooked a thumb backwards, “I can get anything out of there.” “Anything?” “Just about,” he said, “I can get you menus if you want. Start you on an appetizer?” Dragonslayer pulled out a touchpad and her fingers danced across it before she turned it around. In a flash, without looking at it, Julie already knew what she wanted. The menu after all was just a list of suggestions. Anything they dreamed up, they could eat. “Hey Sasha, you want nachos?” asked Julie. “Not really…” she mumbled. Julie thought about it and tried again. “How about, cheesy, meaty, fully loaded with plenty of sour cream and guacamole nachos that’s so diet friendly that you won’t eat a single calorie?” This got Sasha’s attention. At least enough that she peaked out of the crook of her arms. “That...Sounds okay,” she said, “That sounds really good in fact. I don’t eat meat though.” “It’s not real meat, just dream meat, right?” Dragonslayer nodded and Julie looked to Sasha, who was tempted. “Zero calorie, fully loaded...Um...Lobster nachos,” whispered Julie, conspiratorially, “Or pork. Or barbecue chicken.” Sasha’s previously blank face showed some life. Not much, but something was better than nothing. “Lobster is good,” she said. “How do you want the lobster?” asked Dragonslayer, “Grilled, boiled…” She was tapping the touchpad. Julie wasn’t sure if this was Dragonslayer getting into the role and having fun with it or if the person she was channeling had influence over her. “...Hell, I could do it fried if you really want,” she teased. Julie looked to Sasha, who shrugged. So Julie went with the unhealthiest option in the real world. “Fried,” she said. Another guilty thrill went through her and this time she silently told that feeling to shut up. “You want jalapenos?” asked Dragonslayer. Again, Julie looked to Sasha. “No,” was all she said. “Just on one side?” asked Julie. Julie did love her spicy food. “And drinks?” asked Dragonslayer, “I’m behind the stick tonight. So you let me know whatever you want. And if you don’t know, I can whip something up for you. I’m heading to the kitchen to put this in.” Dragonslayer waved the touchpad about. “Apparently, dreams don’t have wireless access,” she said, “So I’ll be back in a minute.” Now alone, Julie looked to Sasha, thinking about how to help her friend. -- Apologies for the long delay. I was taking some time for mental health and sucking at it, because I've been following the Portland protests very closely. Also like, taking all of the information from the protests/riots and imagining comes what's next is pretty taxing because it feels like staring into the abyss. I've been thinking about the politics of food for like...I dunno, two years now for this story. And I didn't figure that famine would be so relevant, but hey, it's the US baby and 30 million people are having go to sleep for dinner at least once a week and I expect that number to only grow higher. I didn't imagine that feeding everyone would become a relevant position, but hey, what the hell do I know? Lots and lots and lots of material collected though. And I'm going to attempt to return to a normal posting schedule for Blake Island and I Rev Up My Katana. We'll have a fairly major choice with the next update. Also, enjoy gender fluid Dragonslayer. She's feeling pretty today.
Ice Phisherman fucked around with this message at 19:10 on Jul 31, 2020 |
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Jul 31, 2020 19:06
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