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 quote:Cast From Heaven Grace Walker Hot: 0; Cold: 0; Volatile: 1; Trespass: 3 2 1 0 1 2 3 :Forgiveness Harm: 0/4; Exp: 1/5 (0); Conditions: -- No good deed goes unpunished, you know? I've been told I'm too skittish about commitment, and maybe that's true. At any rate, I've been kind of cycling through the various aid and relief groups who accept youth volunteers ever since I got here, never really sticking with one longterm. Lately, I've been at Open Hearts. They do good work, if they're a little ham handed sometimes, and, uh... Meg can't go there, since they only provide services to minors. So, that's a bit of a welcome relief. She's stopped declaring me in angel in public, but that knowing little gleam in her eyes when she looks at me, and the pointed questions make me nervous. Anyway -- Open Hearts. It's getting pretty late at night, and I'm almost done my shift. Suddenly, this kid bursts in, crying and cradling his arm. It looks broken, so of course we all just kind of scramble to get the first aid kit and try to help him. Thank goodness Elaine was still around -- she used to be an EMT, back when the city could actually maintain emergency services anywhere outside the Dry Quarter. So, she's trying her best to get him patched up -- he could have been more than 14! -- when suddenly someone else bursts in, and I know him. Tommy McNulty. Big, burly, pushing 19 years old. Over the past couple years I've watched him turn from a bit of a bully to a full blown street thug. And now he has apparently chased this kid in here, brandishing a baseball bat and screaming at the kid to 'give me the flipping money!' (except he didn't say 'flipping'). I didn't know what money this was, and I didn't particularly care -- I'm not letting this happen where I can stop it, especially not there. I can't really blame him for not taking me seriously. I mean, he probably has more than 100 pounds on me, and I don't think we've ever had a physical confrontation before. I know I don't look like much. So I expected him to maybe shove me aside when I got between them and told him to get out. What I didn't expect was for McNulty to bring the bat up and take a swing at my head. I could have ducked, or restrained him, or caught the bat somehow. I, I should have been able to. I didn't, though -- I saw it coming down, and my old training took over. In a few seconds, I'd grabbed the bat from him, smashed the handle into his nose, and kicked his leg out from under him. And so there I was, in the middle of the youth center, standing over this idiot holding a bat while he stares up at me all wide-eyed and bloody-nosed, and behind me there's just dead silence. Even the kid's stopped crying long enough to gape. Things de-escalated after that. Tommy scurried off with his tail between his legs -- there might be some trouble with that, if he's actually managed to hook up with a gang. He was always kind of a hanger-on with the Rushers, and if this was some kind of messed up initiation I got myself mixed up in, they could be angry. Elaine and the other Open Hearts staff didn't really say anything, but they were looking at me a little strangely. Like, they were reevaluating what they thought of me. Not just some nice, helpful girl who likes to pitch in where I can. It doesn't take an expert to tell I knew what I was doing when I took down Tommy. -- Right now? I'm standing in one of the dryer streets in Beachfront, near where it starts to melt into Downtown. I come this way every morning I wake up in my apartment; it requires the least amount of clambering over rooftops and fire escapes. There's something very different about it this morning, though. There's always fresh graffiti along the way, but... this particular tag is something entirely new, and it's everywhere. And that message is pretty worrisome too, whether it's just some fledgling gang or something more... sinister. I frown at the symbol, which is staring back at me from the wall of the abandoned drug store it's painted on sort of disconcertingly. Is that profane? Cautiously, I reach out a hand, and place it flat against the paint-stained brick, as if it might impart some sort of clue onto me. With a bit of a scowl forming over my face, I find myself looking up at the sky. He'd know if this were some demon cult or something nasty like that. "Come on, if you won't lift a finger, at least help me figure this out," I mutter. "That shouldn't be too much to ask." What does this mark mean? Gaze Into Heaven as a spurious and spiteful child: 2d6=7. Let's go with "the visions show you how you have upset or bewildered the Lord." Should theoretically still answer the question though, I guess. Gazetteer fucked around with this message at 11:18 on Sep 13, 2014 |
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Sep 13, 2014 03:11
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| # ¿ Apr 27, 2024 17:25 |
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Grace Walker Hot: 0; Cold: 0; Volatile: 1; Trespass: 3 2 1 0 1 2 3 :Forgiveness Harm: 0/4; Exp: 1/5 (0); Conditions: -- I let out a long, frustrated breath. I could really have gone without the guilt trip. Trusting in an omnipotent savior doesn't really help you much if they can't actually be bothered to save anyone. I shove both hands in the pockets of my jacket, and try to ignore the unmistakable twinge of guilt twisting in my stomach. It isn't important. And while I've gotten a bit more skeptical of the stance on 'pagans' Upstairs since coming down here, I'm willing to bet that whatever this particular group was planning, it wouldn't be pleasant. I was going to need to find out more if I wanted to put a stop to it before they caused any real damage. I continue on my way, hands in my pocket, hand down, lost in thought... and very nearly trip over the girl who is crouched down by the side of the road. She doesn't see me coming, because she is lost in a one-sided conversation. With a pool of water. Okay. "Oh, uh, good morning," I say, because I need to say something, right? Her name is Cassie, I think. I've seen her around, spoken with her before, even if I wouldn't say I know her super well. Previous, she'd struck me as a little odd, but not... talking-to-nothing odd. "Who are you talking to?" I can't help but add.
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Sep 14, 2014 00:11
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Grace Walker Hot: 0; Cold: 0; Volatile: 1; Trespass: 3 2 1 0 1 2 3 :Forgiveness Harm: 0/4; Exp: 1/5 (0); Conditions: -- Talking to fish. Right. "So... you're looking for someone who lives with a bunch of angry scary people?" I ask, a little confuse at the sudden request. "Are they in trouble? Are these people hurting them or something like that?" I don't know how to feel about my picking up a reputation for being 'tough'. I mean, in the literal sense, I guess -- I was trained as a soldier in the armies of heaven. Not to mention what I did before I died (I try not to). And I guess it can't be helped, if I'm going to go around beating up two bit thugs like McNulty. But... it's not really the sort of reputation I've been cultivating, I guess. Still, though, I give Cassie a quick once-over. Yeah, not really the kind of person I want to see facing off against a gang of 'angry scary people' on her own, that's for sure. Frowning, tuck a stray lock of hair behind the arm of my glasses. "Okay, I guess I can't let you go off alone like that," I admit. "Who are these people, though? Anyone I'd know?"
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Sep 14, 2014 03:57
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Grace Walker Hot: 0; Cold: 0; Volatile: 1; Trespass: 3 2 1 0 1 2 3 :Forgiveness Harm: 0/4; Exp: 2/5 (0); Conditions: -- The person she was working for? Well, that sure was worrisome. It might have been possible that Cassie was going to need my help for more than just this one problem, if someone really nasty actually had her over a barrel. I make a point to ask her after this was over. Let her know that there were alternatives to just doing what she was told. As we approach the place in question -- the old concert hall, it turns out -- I hold up a hand to indicate we should stop before going through the entrance. "Alright, let's take this nice and slow," I say, whispering low and seriously, still trying to project confidence. "There's some kind of argument going on in there -- we don't want to go barging in on goodness-knows-what kind of trouble without getting an idea of what the situation is, let's try to listen in a bit first." Turn on Cassie by coming across as cool and in control of the situation: 2d6=3 Oh dear, bad things are about to happen aren't they.
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Sep 14, 2014 05:27
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Grace Walker Hot: 0; Cold: 0; Volatile: 1; Trespass: 3 2 1 0 1 2 3 :Forgiveness Harm: 1/4; Exp: 2/5 (0); Conditions: -- Ow! I stagger under the weight of the blow, and my vision explodes into stars. It takes a few seconds at least before they clear away enough to tell what hit me, or to really hear what Cassie's trying to ask me. "I'm... I'm okay," I groan, gingerly touching the side of my head as I slump a bit against the side of the building. My hand comes away with a bit of blood, but I'm not bleeding too badly. And it's not going to be in my eyes, at least. So that's good, assuming I don't die of a concussion later. And it would have to be later -- there wasn't any time to die right at the moment. A brick, though. Was that a coincidence, or were we in Bricker territory? "I'll be fine," I say, a little more certainly, and manage a reassuring smile for her, even if doing that hurts like heck. "Okay, let's try not to stand directly in front of any windows from now on," I add, motioning Cassie to the side. I swing my backpack off of the shoulder it was slung over, and produce a small and slightly battered pocket mirror. Still slumping up against the wall beside the window, I hold the mirror up so that it will give me a view of whatever's inside. "What does this friend of yours look like?" I ask.
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Sep 14, 2014 18:29
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Grace Walker Hot: 0; Cold: 0; Volatile: 1; Trespass: 3 2 1 0 1 2 3 :Forgiveness Harm: 1/4; Exp: 2/5 (0); Conditions: -- "Woman in the basement," I murmer, shoving the mirror back into her bag and zipping it up again. The action only made her head swim a little bit, so that was good. "That could be your lady in blue. Even if it's not, we can't just leave someone here with a bunch of Brickers." I thought about that a moment -- it was already possible that I had the Rushers after me. Did I need the second most bloodthirsty gang out here joining in? "We definitely can't go in the front," I continue. "So let's see if there's anything around the back we can use." Hopeing that Cassie is going to follow, I begin to creep my way around the building, carefully ducking beneath any more windows. To my general relief, I spot what I'm looking for at the back of the building -- a low, wide barely above the ground, presumably leading into the dark recesses of the concert hall's basement. I give the frame a good hard kick, and the rusted lock gives way without too much noise. I try peering in, but the morning sun is too bright out here to make much of anything out. I look at Cassie, then reach out to clasp her shoulders with both hands, in what I hope is a consoling gesture. "Look, I know you're all shook up over this, and I can't really blame you -- if you want, I can go down there and you can wait up here. We don't really know what's down there." Okay, let's try this again: Turn Cassie on by being all cool and stuff, taking advantage of her Shaken condition: 2d6+1=8. When I go into the basement, I'll probably give a Hold Steady roll to see whether or not Grace fucks something up, if that's okay with AdjectiveNoun. I do my best to keep eye contact, and hope that comes across as reassuring rather than intimidating -- I've been told I come across as a bit intense sometimes.
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Sep 16, 2014 19:22
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Grace Walker Hot: 0; Cold: 0; Volatile: 1; Trespass: 3 2 1 0 1 2 3 :Forgiveness Harm: 1/4; Exp: 2/5 (0); Conditions: -- Well, I wasn't about to stand there arguing with her. Assuming she was going to be able to keep her head, she'd be a bit of help -- I didn't actually plan on getting into a fight with a building full of Brickers, after all, and there was also the added benefit of her actually knowing who this woman was somewhat. I hoped, at least. With any luck, all of the residents would be too busy trying to kill each other upstairs to take notice of what we were doing. So I nod at her, and give her a small smile. "Okay. If we're lucky, none of the Brickers will even know we're here." Then I knelt down, and examined the now-open window. It'd be a bit tight, but I could probably get in and out no problem. The truth was, though, I didn't really like being underground. I don't actually use my wings that often these days, but I like having the option. Something about basements and cellars and tunnels just makes me feel trapped and fenced in. I take a deep breath, though, and slide into the basement boots first. Hold steady: 2d6=7. I keep my cool and don't kick over a paint can or anything. I land in a crouch on some old carboard or something, so any sound my landing would have made gets mostly muffled. Straightening up, I move out of the way so that Cassie can come down, and blink to try and make my eyes adjust faster to the relative gloom of the basement.
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Sep 18, 2014 03:41
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Grace Walker Hot: 0; Cold: 0; Volatile: 1; Trespass: 3 2 1 0 1 2 3 :Forgiveness Harm: 1/4; Exp: 2/5 (0); Conditions: -- "Well, I'm glad you think so," I say, keeping my voice similarly low. The chances of anyone coming down here are hopefully pretty slim. Unless someone bolts for the basement to escape taking a brick to the head, or that woman decides that whoever they have trapped down here should be taken care of more directly. If she even is trapped -- she's apparently humming. It would be a little bit much to take a brick to the head and climb blind through a window just to find out that this person was perfectly happy where she was. Moving as quietly as I can, I lead the way into the room that the humming is coming from.
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Sep 22, 2014 02:41
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Grace Walker Hot: 0; Cold: 0; Volatile: 1; Trespass: 3 2 1 0 1 2 3 :Forgiveness Harm: 1/4; Exp: 2/5 (0); Conditions: -- Wait, what? "... what, you want to just leave her?" I ask Cassie, more than a little incredulous. I look back to the oblivious woman. "Hey, uh, miss? Are you okay down here? Are these people hurting you or anything?"
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Sep 28, 2014 19:50
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| # ¿ Apr 27, 2024 17:25 |
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Grace Walker Hot: 0; Cold: 0; Volatile: 1; Trespass: 3 2 1 0 1 2 3 :Forgiveness Harm: 1/4; Exp: 2/5 (0); Conditions: -- I'm beginning to suspect that this was not an ordinary kidnapping case. I sigh -- me and Cassie are going to have to have a long talk about whoever it is she's doing jobs for. "This isn't an ordinary spring, is it?" I ask, trying not to look too exasperated. "What are you, exactly?"
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Oct 2, 2014 05:52
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