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Initiation The Docklands Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYR3zNn9fb0 Force is applied. A tortured screaming fills the air. Seagulls circle and gyre incuriously in the heat of early summer as the warehouse door is wrenched back, rust falling from its hinges. The stink of salt and sewage is thick here, as waterfront houses and businesses alike choose to dump their effluvia into the ever-hungry sea rather than pay their pittance in sewerage rates. It’s a busy enough area of town – close enough to be handy for the main dry-docks that service the great algae dredgers, upscale enough that the buildings have actual metal on their fittings and Enforcers only need to patrol in twos and threes. Far enough from the central palatial districts that it’s actually affordable. Plascrete buildings stand side by side with smaller brown- or red-brick dwellings. Shacks and leantos crop up wherever space allows, although a discerning eye will notice a distinct trend towards plastics in the choice of low-cost building material. Merchants harangue from streetside stalls; dockers recline on mouldering crates, smoking narrow lho rollups in snatched moments away from work. Crowds of tired, gritty agri-workers wend their way to or from assignments; servitors stomp back and forth on inscrutable errands of their own. The warehouse owner leaves, satisfied, keys delivered. The gondolier punts him across the bay as he considers his new tenants. He has not been explicitly told as such, but believes he is renting to a group of Planetary Defence Force specialists. He is pleased both by the security such an arrangement with bring, and because he has greatly overcharged them for the contract. Though he is venal, and greedy, his sins are ultimately petty ones, and he will make no mark on his world. ---  Squatting in the corner of Port Remonstrance, the warehouse acts as a serviceable base. Workbenches and dataports allow for daily maintenance, tinkering, research, contemplation of the swell of the sea and the murmur of the crowds. For a while, the Acolytes maintain a presence as ordered, but mostly come and go as they please. A small cot up in the office allows respite, when lodgings seem too far away or when the heat of the day and the throb of amasec makes travel a burden. Ourybia thrums with anticipation. The watery ocean planet is the breadbasket – perhaps a better term would be krill-basket – of a dozen nearby worlds, trading calories for metal, technology, expertise. A mere ten percent of the surface is land - archipelago chains of large islands ringing the equator for the most part, occasional volcano chains or anomalous blocks of desolate rock dotting the rest of the ocean. The equatorial belt is uniquely suited to huge-scale algae and krill farms, and the majority of the planetary population occupy themselves with tending to the kilometre-scale dredging ships, drudging in vast algae refineries, or toiling to process Ourybia’s characteristic red silt, trawled up from the sea floor as building material. The more fortunate cluster together on the islands, building from rock to beach to out into the shallow sea, until the cities are more canal than land – a great semi-aquatic sprawling, rising from the waves like a cyst. Port Remonstrance is one of the larger of these conurbations, and, possessing of its own meagre spaceport facilities, buzzes with a carnival atmosphere. Soon, after twenty years, the Black Ships will return, scouring the planet’s holding cells of witches, and delivering prosperity and peace once again. --- A message. Just as the heat, the boredom, and the waiting was becoming intolerable, a message. The delivery servitor arrived during the Acolyte’s shift change. A flicker of stuttering red laser light verified its recipient. The note was handed over, a pinprick of blood providing a second layer of assurance. A brief stiffening of realisation, even from the more well-bred members of the cell – this is an Astronomicon message. The despatch cost must have been enormous.  There can be no doubt from whom the message originates. It appears the cell has just been activated. ---- Elsewhere, the cell door slides open. The occupant lunges forwards silently and with startling speed, but the strange, poised servitors are too quick even for them. The interloper shuffles forward, syringe in one hand, the glint of metal in another. Force is applied. A tortured screaming fills the air. ---- welcome to gaem, i hope you liked my clumsy framing device. you guys have been on-planet for a short time. days, weeks, whatever - enough to vaguely acclimatise yourselves, still a short enough time for you to feel uncomfortable and foreign. you all know each other and have been spending as much time as you fancy together over the past few days, weeks, whatever. your orders have so far been "report here, meet these guys, hang around for a bit.", and you have individual lodgings as part of your cover if you like, you can maybe indicate what you've been doing on-planet and for how long, as well as putting a few words on how you got here. or, you can get straight into it - you've just been told to go extract a person you know nothing about, from a family that off the tops of your heads, you know nothing specific about. go get some info!! or some kit, i dunno. or spend some time making your warehouse cool. or go shoot some seagulls going off the date stamp on the telegram, you have about five solar weeks to get your task done, which seems like ages for a "go grab someone" plan. there's probably a catch. i don't want to spunk out a massive loredump in the first post, so if you think there's something you should know about the planet that i've not covered off, post it in the recruitment/OOC thread and check e: have a little music Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 23:00 on Jan 22, 2016 |
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Jan 20, 2016 23:06
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Preparation The Docklands Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OTuZMQt6w5c Dawn's rays filter through the grimed glass of the warehouse, glinting off the battered dataslate's screen as Bulworth has a poke around to see what information on the Deculon family is foremost in the public eye. It's a weird quirk of certain mindsets that Arbites specialists the galaxy over have silently thanked again and again - they can secure their databases and lock their vaults with all the ingenuity Mars can provide, but they never realise what someone can pick up simply from taking a wide view and reading between the lines. Of course, sometimes a lhostick is just a lhostick. And too much information is as bad as too little. Ignatius' caution is wise but probably unwarranted - this sort of information must be accessed thousands of times a day the planet over by various adepts performing various tasks, and so long as Bulworth doesn't try to persuade Aperta to edit anything... The Deculons appear to be a fairly standard, established dynasty, by this planet's standards. Countless records of marriages and proclamations of trade agreements blur together into a morass as Bulworth scrolls. Unlike some of the would-be entrepreneurs from the past few millennia - scions of scions of scions of minor families, who received too small a slice of the family legacy and languish in obscurity as plantation owners on distant island chains - the Deculons are securely entrenched in the relatively metropolitan Port Remonstrance. They appear to have fingers in most industries on Ourybia, and outright own several of the colossal algae dredgers that slowly circumnavigate the planet, along with rights to some fairly reliable dredging routes and the corresponding fleets of krill skiffs. This makes them respectably but not ostentatiously wealthy. By noble standards, of course - by the standards of most imperial citizens they naturally live a life of decadent opulence undreamed of in anything but their most lurid and probably illegal fantasies. Most of the more flowery news records revolve around the wondrous public works that the Deculons have been bestowing on the planet's population. Hab-blocks, churches, and the like. It is not a particular stretch to interpret this as the Deculons jockeying for position and status among the other Ourybian noble families - with solid foundations at a premium on this watery planet, it looks like extravagant building work is the way to demonstrate wealth and power. The planetary governor and his staff appear to follow the algae dredging flotilla at a distance, hopping from island chain to island chain throughout the year, residing in palaces on each one. The donation of expertise, building materials and - very occasionally - land to the palace complexes appears to be a way of greasing the wheels of government. Eadian is able to fill in a few more of the blanks in terms of the family's operations. Their sprawling and refined manor lies to the centre of one of the larger islands making up the Port Remonstrance archipelago - plenty of solid rock to build on, plenty of ways to get one up over the neighbours. Like many established dynasties, the actual task of overseeing their many, many concerns is divvied out to various family members. It's nominally a meritocracy, but in reality blood is considerably thicker than brine, and a second-wife son will tend to have a massively advantageous position over a more technically or diplomatically accomplished nephew or cousin. The major players are Lorenzo Deculonius, the family's patriarch; Paola Deculonius, his firstwife and nominal palace administrator; Orsa Deculonius, his thirdwife from a vaguely allied dynasty who actually turned out to be a competent negotiator and tends to hold responsibilities above her expected station; and, naturally, a fleet of sons and daughters to attend to the various social intricacies that life among the nobility appears to demands. Proper representation at a formal ball or a debauched rampage through the slums appears to be just as important as attendance on a judicial or trade committee - it would be fairly trivial for Eadian, along with a smattering of his close friends, to arrange to be at the same social gathering as a Deculon. Of course, the implication of this sprawling family and labyrinthine business concerns is that Adept Cizneros could be working for any one of the scores of Deculons infesting the island chain. The Telepathica despatch is unclear on which one in particular. Gamma takes the opportunity to see whether the message has been psychically tampered with. All she gets is a faint impression of the duty-psyker who received the message - it's presumably gone from his lips to the scribe to the servitor to the Acolytes, it's not had a chance to pick up any other imprints. Still, the fact that she can even detect the remnants of the psyker is surprising - he must be pushing himself, indicating either a lot of messages, or difficulty and unusual perseverance in receiving them. It might be the fact that the Black Ships are on their way and planning their approach - or it could be that this message was prefaced by high-priority codes ---- poo poo i think i'm gonna run out of classical music a lot faster than i will electronica. not as quickly as i run out of synonyms for "lhostick" though there's no Space Google or Space Facebook but there are, of course, official news agencies, publicly available records, etc. have some Space Worldbuilding, courtesy of barry and eadian; you have some context on the noble culture here (shades of Space Venice), but haven't turned up anything along the lines of "the deculons like to kill and eat people with names beginning with C". you do have some context for the family now, as well as some names to maybe investigate or, if you're feeling brave, to go and talk to. for context, going to see the names above would be like trying to get a quick chat with a government minister crossed with a high court judge crossed with a drug fuelled solipsistic psychopath - they have a lot of people wanting to talk to them, and you may need to do some prepwork. gamma gives the message a brainscan but i'm not gonna roll for this - there's nothing plot-relevant that's happened to it so you wouldn't pick anything up anyway, and if i roll and get like a 90 and report "nope, nothing" then you'll all think "ah-ha! it's been tampered with!". i will admit that it'd be really funny to have this be the space equivalent of a wrong number and for you all to go do someone elses' campaign, but no, this is indeed from your inquisitor. ignatius pretty much paces around roleplaying, which i am not complaining about. you guys have come up with really good stuff really quickly on what the planet's like. still waiting on WWN to get unprobated but yeah, you have a family to look into i guess! if you need any kit to help with your plans for said investigation, you can of course go out and do some requisition tests. this is still completely open and i have no set plans for how i want you to find this person, but if you're unsure on what's going on or want some pointers on what your options are, stick it in the OOC thread
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Jan 23, 2016 01:10
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inverted commas, people
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Jan 23, 2016 20:44
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Incorporation The Docklands Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kbFly9b-9Dg As the other acolytes begin making plans to cement their cover identities firmly in place, Bulworth and Gamma ponder the task at hand. The Voidborn considers her past dealings with the Adeptus Telepathica, with an eye to working out the difficulty of accessing the messages of other Telepathica clients - although a creature of the void and an altogether different type of specialist than that used by the local offices, she has by necessity had dealings with the network of psykers tenuously linking the Imperium together. In fact, now that she thinks about it, she remembers reading about exactly this issue in another place, and another time. Going by the interrogation logs, a magnate of industry got it into his head that his deep space mining concerns had been funnelling information to a competitor. Being an individual who never got told "no" enough as a child, he did not take well to the local Telepathica chapterhouse's refusal to turn over all messages from his station, heedless of destination. On returning at the head of his private militia, he was surprised at the fierce fight the Telepathica clerks put up, as well as their oddly professional handling of small arms and weapon emplacements. After a few minutes fruitless lascutting, he was even more surprised to emerge from the basement of the chapterhouse to find his militia routed, and Planetary Defence Force armoured cavalry levelling their weapons at him, in uniforms matching those on the corpses of the Telepathica "clerks". The logs actually contained a fair amount of information on the security setup of this distant Telepathica chapterhouse, that nevertheless sound like fairly standard operating procedure. The encrypted original message logs are stored on-site, under lock and key and guard; despatches are considerably less well guarded, for the simple fact that they're sealed in tamper-proof, self-immolating containers like the one currently lying discarded on the bench by Bulworth. Any attempt to access the contents by an unauthorised user results in a fizz, a bang, and the filling out of form a7-87b for re-despatch of a partially-received message. The easiest way to gain access to a third party's message bank would be to engineer a situation where the message database itself has to be moved - it will doubtless still be under guard, but in the uncertainty of transport, the Telepathica would need to balance security through force with security through obscurity. In this instance, a clever and motivated group could easily make the snatch. Of course, actually getting away with such a heist would be a little trickier - the Telepathica, after all, have access to unorthodox expertise. Dawn lengthens to morning as Bulworth continues tapping away at his dataslate. He actually turns up a couple of hits - looks like there is, indeed, a Cisneros mentioned in passing in the announcement logs of some of the larger construction projects performed over the last seven or eight years by the Deculon family. There are, of course, no details - these are only very cursory mentions, in most cases just initials and surnames - but if she's mentioned at all, it indicates that she's not simply a brick-counter or a wages clerk. By inference, the larger construction projects would probably be handled by those closer to the heart of the Deculon family, so she probably isn't hanging around with the seventh cousins twice removed. The Arbites clacks his teeth contemplatively. The Acolytes still have absolutely no idea of anything about the adept - including what she looks like. However, it isn't just her name down on these announcement logs, and some of the other names reoccur a couple of times. It could be worth investigating her former colleagues to see if any of them could offer any information on her. ----- right, so Gamma does a common lore test and smashes it with a roll of 5, for 5DoS. the information gain is commensurate. psykers are pretty expensive and dangerous resources so the Telepathica office normally has at least a couple squads of PDF hanging around on-site, with a speeddial to summon more and bump major issues up the command chain very quickly. i mean, these are guys who could potentially instigate a major daemonic incursion if they gently caress up badly enough, so they will be lucky to ever not have a gun in the same room as them. security is tight. message logs are kept in a safe. despatches themselves are entrusted to delivery servitors because they are tamperproof and will self-immolate if fiddled with. best bet is to get the message log database to move somehow, maybe for comparison against another city's logs - there's like zero or one sanctioned messaging psykers in a major urban area, Port Remonstrance is lucky to have two - and then snatch it en route. bit easier than a protracted siege. regardless, though, stealing the database from the telepathica basically gets the government involved - it's a matter of interplanetary importance. should you pursue the "let's read their mail" plan, you'll also know other pertinent details. dunno what you want to get out of it, though. bulworth continues to space-google. there's a couple of pseudo-press releases for Deculon construction projects, on which the name Cisneros pops up. she's got a couple of other names that pop up with her - this isn't, like, a conspiracy or anything, it's more Space Contractors. you'll get names if you choose to go have a chat with her ex-colleagues, or you can just make them up. the rest of you are just sort of planning at the moment, so nothing from you - inquiry and plane-grabbing directions are in the OOC thread. you have some plans for what to do, so you should probably decide whether you'll do 'em, who's doing 'em, and then, if everything falls into place, go do 'em.
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Jan 24, 2016 21:13
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Dissipation The Docklands Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mmCnQDUSO4I Possibly still stunned by their cell’s sudden activation after weeks of boredom, the Acolytes each swing into action after their own fashion. Day has properly broken by now, and the Port begins to buzz with activity. Bulworth and Gamma head off into the city to check out Deculon public works, on the assumption that knowing how a target wants to portray itself to the world is never a bad idea. Maybe they’ll be able to infer something about Adept Cizneros’ role in their construction, and who they could approach in terms of contacting her. Ignatius tags along briefly, before ducking off and hailing a gondola to one of the less salubrious nearby neighbourhoods, to try and get a feel for any street-level gossip on the Deculons. While the average stubjack lurking on a street corner is unlikely to know much of the internal goings-on of a noble dynasty, it will still be useful to get a feel for the local politics here. Maybe there’s something he can use; some way to get leverage on a Deculon, some way to get closer to the cell’s target… Aperta strides off inland, returning to a Munitorum suboffice through which he has contracted before. Eadian sort of hangs around the warehouse aimlessly. ----- Coacervation The Slums Port Remonstrance  The makeshift duckboard breaks with a wet “splutch” as Bulworth puts his weight on it, and he sinks to his ankle in brackish, cloudy water with a curse. A section of the narrow pavement between buildings has partially collapsed, and it seems that in this area of the city, timely repairs are not something that can be counted on. An enterprising citizen has bridged the gap with a chunk of waste plastic, which almost, but not completely, fails to do its job. Gamma picks her way over the broken walkway with ease, long, spindly limbs giving her an advantage. Ramshackle buildings are densely-packed here. The technical shore actually lies some distance off to the south - great space-claiming, city-block-size rockcrete foundations have been sunk into the shallow waters just off the island’s coast. Walkways and bridges haphazardly join them together, festooned with sparking cables and leaky pipes, and platforms and pavements circumference the foundations, just above the high-tide mark. Private industry has created a warren of low-slung houses and low-rent shops, generally with some sort of market square in the centre of each artificial island; gulls cry as a knife-sharpener plies his trade in a closet-sized enclosure, wedged between a fishmonger hawking his wares and a seller of carved bone geegaws haranguing passers by. Here and there, constructions sponsored by noble families tower above the rickety mass of semi-temporary shacks – able to sponsor the work required to drill into the rockcrete to lay proper foundations, the noble-funded works have few constraints. A large church, perched incongruously overlooking the waves, abuts a hospital from a rival family; a multi-storey hab-block takes up almost an entire islandlet; an aqueduct wends its way from an offshore refinery. Most surprisingly, there's a school being finished off nearby. All, it turns out, sponsored by the Deculons. In fact, many of the slum-works – many, but not all – are courtesy of the Deculon family. Looks like most of their accessible public works – those not made to the Port’s palace complex as part of thinly-veiled attempts to sway the planetary governor’s opinion – are dotted around the poorer areas of the city. This in itself is notable; why waste money on the rabble? Maybe the family is callously playing the long game, and accepts that a healthy, housed population is essential for future stability; maybe the family’s portraying itself as holier-than-thou; maybe it’s the result of genuine altruism. Bulworth, presumably still distracted by his wet boot and from his noodley breakfast, gives the church, aqueduct and hab-block a quick once-over as he ambles nonchalantly by. The increasing crowds of cityfolk pay him no mind, as he is sensible enough to not stand and gawk, and for an off-worlder he blends in with surprising ease. Insofar as he can judge, they are genuinely quality buildings - local materials, but sturdy and well-finished. Innovatively designed, too - the hab-block in particular eschews the usual four-walls-and-a-roof blocky style, and instead opts for a weird, hexagonal cell system. These places don't look expensive, though - a quick stop off at a recaf stall and a surreptitious browse of the files on his data-slate confirm that construction finished considerably earlier than projected, as well, which must have also driven costs down. Gamma has a little more luck with her observations. Being an obvious off-worlder, she can stop and gawp for a short while without causing much concern from passers-by. Well, not much more concern - she's still a spindly midget with what looks like cyanosis, but most of them recognise the telltale signs of Voidborn and just leave it at that. It's hard to tell from street-level, but she's pretty sure there's some subsidiary lines coming off that aqueduct that shouldn't be there. The number of people going in and out of the control building definitely makes it look like there's something shady going on, too. Probably black- or grey-market water selling to industries who don't want to pay the Administratum by the liter; it's relatively small fry insofar as crime goes, but it could be a stepping-stone to something higher up the food-chain. Almost certainly not enough to blackmail the particular Deculon in charge of the aqueduct concern, but from tiny acorns... Wait, speaking of greenery. There, on the wall - the church contains a colossal frieze, picked out in shell and sea-tooth and baleen and ceramics of all colours of the rainbow, depicting the Conclave of Erinythia. Of when Ecclesiarchy clerics from a thousand worlds were witness to Sister Aella's apotheosis into a Living Saint in the face of the oncoming Ork horde. Up in that corner - that priest hasn't got a name. Other figures are labelled with name and homeworld - this poor guy's got something else haloing his head. He's got a boast - POLLONIA ME FECIT. Either it's a massive coincidence, or Cizneros is the architect. The school's probably still got workmen in, finishing it off. There's no way the architect would be hanging around at this stage, probably delegating the work several links down the chain of command, but maybe there's people on-site who've actually met her. ----- Affiliation The Rookery Port Remonstrance  If the slums are seedy, the shady areas are downright fecund. The spaceport area of Port Remonstrance has to be on firm foundation, which means it has to be on an actual island of the Remonstrance archipelago. However, living near the constant thunder and boom of the rickety planetary fliers - not to mention the occasional explosion as an over-taxed lighter suddenly suffers catastrophic engine failure in mid-air - is not something that the usual Ourybian land-dwellers are willing to put up with. The nobles and merchants seek lodgings elsewhere, and the area around the port has been claimed by the destitute. Unhampered by the restrictions inherent in building on the artificial islands, these tenements are rickety, soaring affairs - the Enforcers only dare enter these narrow alleys with vehicle and what passes for cyberhound support on a salty ocean planet. As population density is higher, and the screams of aerospace transport drown out the screams of the extorted or tortured, this area has attracted the criminal element like flies to rotting meat. All the illegal fun you could possibly want sits a short, ten-minute gondola ride away from the coast, twenty-eight hours a day, seven days a week. Ignatius carouses with strict professionalism, ensuring most of his amasec seeps onto his clothing to add to the persona rather than having to actually drink the stuff they serve here. His story of being a stopover from the krill-fleet holds up to casual scrutiny, and in all honesty, none of the people here seem to give it much thought. It also provides a decent excuse for steering conversations round to what the local nobility is like, but unfortunately it's a pretty rowdy crowd even though it's only thirteen in the morning. The Voidborn spends most of his time explaining that he's from a far-off island away from the equator where everyone's a bit thinner, taller and paler, and fending off the advances of drinkers who've been at it longer than most. Eventually the group's conversation manages to turn to current affairs - Ignatius tries not to appear too attentive as the laughing agri-workers drink away their week's pay and compete to name the most obviously criminal of the upper classes. Individuals from the Hepaticon... Renulon... Deculon... "All about face with those st- uh, Our Patrons", rasps the stocky, sandy-haired deckhand with whom Ignatius shares a doctored lho rollup outside of the bar. He used to act as a boatsman, bringing the youth of the upper-class incognito across the bay, to the Rookery. "No fear o' death, like you or me; biggest dread they got is to look bad, to look lesser. To find 'emselves faced with proof they're beat." He pauses, pointing down the street, up towards the palace complex on the hills at the centre of the island - barely visible through the fug of steam, smoke and pollution that pervades the district. Ignatius patiently waits for him to get to the point. "No, the only way to get 'em to do what you want is, is," as he takes a drag on his lhostick, "is, you gotta, right," as he takes a swig from his rotgut bottle, "you just need to HEY gently caress WAIT" as the tiny urchin slashes his purse from his belt and races off nimbly down the street. The deckhand lurches after her, leaving Ignatius goggling faintly after him. Other street kids edge closer, perhaps sensing an easy mark. ------ Transportation The Munitorum Port Remonstrance  The clerk looks like he's about to burst into tears of gratitude. Aperta has long since grown accustomed to the reaction he causes as he walks the streets. On a planet so desperately in need of maintenance, and so desperately short on materials and expertise, a full-blown Magos is a sight for sore eyes. Not a particularly rare sight - there must be hundreds in the Remonstrance archipelago alone, and it's a skilled watcher who could tell them apart consistently - but still, a sight that makes dockers walk a little taller, and stallholders smile a little wider. Small children goggle at his visible cybernetics - he's not a particularly astute social diagnostician, but one thing that even Aperta's picked up is that metal on display acts as a status symbol. Cogitatio gets less of a fan-following - servo-skulls being durable and modular, with some models relying in part on preserved brain rather than easily-corroded circuitry, there's no particular shortage of them. Munching on a curious sea-grape pressed into his hands by a kowtowing grocer, and borne by a gondolier who refuses all possible hint of payment (but if you saw fit to take a look at the old outboard, y'honor...), Aperta makes his way to the squat, boxy Munitorum sub-depot amid the respectful susurrus of the crowd. Unfortunately, the clerk looks like he's going to desperately press his entire backlog into the tech-priest's hands. He'll have to choose his next words with care. ----- worldbuilding!!! forensic architecturology!!! the slums are on artificial concrete “islands” just off the coast (like, a matter of meters), separated by canals and bridges. Traffic is mostly by foot, although land vehicles can wend through the wider sections. It’s pretty hard to sink proper foundations into these islands so it’s a little shanty-townish and second-storey, with the exception of public works which have been done properly. Bulworth manages to notice precisely gently caress all about the three closest buildings that he checks out, and only gets fairly basic info. Gamma is considerably more perceptive and actually notices stuff!! you have some naughty thieves to manipulate, and you also have a great big secret "i made this!!" label in an area where grafitti would be literally unthinkable. this is indicative that Cizneros is the architect. whatever else you wish to infer about her personality is up to you. rather than lead you down a blind alley i will explicitly state that you are not investigating heretic architecture. the focus on this is simply to stress that Cizneros is exceptionally, almost preternaturally talented. you can go pester the criminals, you can go pester the workmen at the school and be all "have you seen this woman" except you don't know what she looks like (if only you could look inside minds); you can sight-see some more i guess if you want Ignatius is in the rookery area, which is on an outlying island, tied to the main body of the port with a great big bridge. it is, after all, a spaceport; it needs to transport stuff. also the day's a bit longer on this planet, giving more time for algae to grow. yay. i put him into a bar, because stereotypes are sometimes useful. he kind of flubs his inquiry roll; I let him do a Deceive check to try and mitigate any subtlety loss, which he fails. then i remember he's got Clues From The Crowds and gets a reroll on the initial Inquiry roll; he still fails, but not badly enough to impact Subtlety. instead, he only gathers basic information, and has gained the irritating attention of an urchin gang ignatius has the names of two Deculons who the public believe to be dodgy. he also has confirmed that the nobles are overly concerned with face on this planet, and that the deculons basically feud with two other dynasties in particular at the moment. in a world preoccupied with face and basically aggressive altruism, building cool public works is probably a great way to get people to prefer you to your rivals! that's probably why they do it! i can't see anywhere that re-rolls from non-Fate sources cannot, themselves, be re-rolled, so if you want more info you can always spend a Fate point to see if you do any better on the third throw of the dice. or you could chase the urchin, or you could go find something else out now that you have the Deculon names and the fact that they are remarkably susceptible to evidence-based blackmail. or you could chat to the urchins, and set yourself up as Fagin without the upsetting ethnic stereotypes. Aperta heads into town, chats to Eadian jacks off disconsolately in the warehouse. game actions go in the game thread, as spelled out in the recruitment thread. lemme know whether you're hitting up nobles or if you're changing your plan.
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Feb 1, 2016 23:24
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Coacervation The Slums Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jGD34J5ARaI Bulworth, on hearing of the probable existence of illegal water theft, scratches the vestigial Arbites itch and immediately moves to investigate, with little in the way of preparation or elaboration of his plans to Gamma. She trails behind, perhaps waiting for more than a few cursory words to explain what he's hoping to achieve in bothering this rabble. He's actually mostly operating on autopilot - in a long and storied career, Bulworth's seen this kind of operation hundreds of times. Not, specifically, water theft - more a small gang eking out a living performing petty theft in an area no-one cares about. It's normally a tiny grain in an investigative desert, and barely worth spending headspace on for an Arbite, but it's strange what tends to stick. Margins are tight but the operation runs twenty-eight hours a day, so there's probably three to six malnourished scavvers working at this, with a boss in the back room. Probably got a deal with some of the local beggars or urchins or something, so they're told of anyone weird hanging around the place. And, most importantly, probably an escape route leading straight into the back office. Which probably comes out... there. ---- Affiliation The Rookery Port Remonstrance Ignatius feels a thud from behind as another urchin barrels into him, tearing free the dummy purse in which he stores his smallest, meanest coins. He staggers for balance amid the jeers of the urchin gang, but remains calm and repeats his offer. The pack leader appears to consider it, as she scratches at a short mop of rusty red hair and the shouts of the robbed deckhand recede into the general slum hubbub. She seems to appreciate being approached on a level negotiating field - had Ignatius squatted down or patronised her, there's a good chance he'd be in a fetal ball amid the garbage of the slums, having his ribs broken with lumps of rockcrete or spars of plastic. "Whatcha wan'dat for?", she demands. He does nothing but raise an eyebrow and grin, and it's at this point that things appear to snap into place for the urchin. Clothes reeking of cheap amasec, but no flush and a steady gaze? Bartering with contraband for something of no apparent value? She tenses, as if to flee. "Are youze a cop?" poo poo, thinks Ignatius, mouth opening to try and salvage the situation. "Coz you have to tell me if you're a cop" Ah, thinks Ignatius, mouth shutting. The deal doesn't take much longer to thrash out. Ignatius walks away ten lho sticks and two syringes lighter, but with arrangements for the entire non-fungible contents of the deckhand's wallet to be delivered to a certain drop location the next day, and for a cast-iron promise not to be pickpocketed by the urchins any time he's back in the area. The street gang, in turn, get to try out a nicer blend of lho than they're used to, get a couple of syrettes of something to keep the Enforcers off their backs if necessary, and get a thorough conviction that a right dodgy character has some sort of interesting scam on. ---- Ingratiation Borseote District Port Remonstrance  "And that's when he finally realises where his wife was! Haw haww!" Ha ha ha. Eadian is once again reminded of how irritating the more fringe members of the Ourybian nobility manage to get. Not likely to be frontrunners in their family's operations, the majority of the cousins, nieces, and nephews tend towards the dissolute as a result; self-improvement being an option taken by only a rare few. Plus, socialising is an art - if you can get in on a dynastic asset merger or the cementation of a particularly important contract, and marry a third son or a second daughter from a different family, then at least your kids will be set even if you're likely to be relegated to a lifetime of salons and feasting. So, the swarms of lesser nobles try to practice it as often as possible. Eadian has been chatting up this particular group of bottomfeeders for a few hours now, keeping a white-knuckle grip on his patience. The room is smokey with illicit substances, tolerably large sums of money have been won and lost, and the tables are sticky with strange and wonderful imported beverages. Retainers murmur discreetly with waiting staff in the background, settling tabs and making arrangements for future occasions. It's barely past noon but, as per the rest of Port Remonstrance, the uptown bars tend to cater to a 28-hour-a-day crowd. Uptown itself is quite a pleasant place - running water, regular Enforcer patrols, stable power supplies, bustling businesses, built on actual land... there's various administrative districts, but the natives just tend to refer to the place as "Uptown". There's a surprising amount of greenery, even if the expansive parks and estates of Eadian's youth would be an incredible extravagance in this sort of context. Anyway. None of these cretins are likely to know much of the business goings-on of the Deculon family, and Eadian's really just after a chance to scrabble up the chain a little. He just needs an opening, some sort of gathering, something like... Eadian quirks his head to one side, glass of amasec poised in midair, as he listens. Something like that. ---- bulworth, despite being thick as two short planks, easily nukes his Common Lore test with 3DoS on an easy enough test anyway. both of you failed awareness tests to spot the sentries; assume they're there, but you don't know where. if you're up close and spying you'll probably be spotted; you can either go in fast and surprise the boss in the back room, or hang around and risk getting made. currently you are still on approach. if you somehow had Unnatural Senses you'd be able to reroll awareness on the premise of hearing weird stressed heartbeats, etc; also you'd be able to tell exactly how many people there are and where they are. details of the interior are up to DeathSandwich, within reason; you've got an escape route into the back room that you can fluff appropriately (sewer pipe, hidden door, whatever), you've got two rooms (work/maintenance room and backroom, boss is in the backroom), and you've got thin walls because this is basically a prefab shed full of control valves and maintenance ladders. give me a description of where you're barging into and whether it's the back or the front ignatius instigates the first actual social interaction test of the game. previous DH games have basically kept this as "rol dise to intimidate"; DH2 is significantly more fleshed out in this regard, where NPCs have personalities that react differently to different approaches. i will post on this in the OOC thread but basically you use social skills to make people like you more (i.e. change their Disposition, which typically starts at 50 for the neutral), then roll against how much they like you. in general, i mean - you can still use e.g. Intimidate to directly extort a certain outcome, but different personalities react differently to it. for some of them it makes them increase their Disposition towards you! this isn't really a commerce test because the trading is simply a bonus to roleplay; basically, it's a charm test to get something useless-to-the-urchins from the urchin gang. the urchin is overconfident in her own abilities and fits the Clever archetype. so it's a Fel +20 (charm vs Clever) +20 (good plan, good roleplay) for a target number of 80. ignatius gets a 45 for 4DoS, increasing the urchin gang's disposition by 4 x 5 for a total of 20. disposition is now 70; testing against this to see if the gang will sell, Ignatius gets a 34, so they're happy with the outcome and generally quite like Ignatius now. deckhand's docs will be available next narrative day, this will include photographic ID in the form of a work permit for the specific noble-ferrying watertaxi company Ignatius is interested in. perhaps think about getting that photo changed. also i hate writing dialogue! eadian ingratiates with nobles. i'm sorry, Skids O'Toole. untrained Inquiry versus Fel +20 - success by 3DoS, against the odds! this means he finds a suitable social occasion - details of this occasion are up to AcidRonin, within reason; your constraints are that it's in three days' time, you can bring the whole party if you want, it is an event that contains an element of risk to participants (physical, financial, or reputational), and that it'll give you an opportunity to talk to mid-rank Deculons. you can sort out how you discover this however you like - maybe you overheard a concierge while you were taking a piss, maybe you pumped a drunk until they spilled the beans, maybe it's well known and strictly limited but you won an invite at a game of poker. discuss in OOC thread if confused
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Feb 6, 2016 19:09
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Coacervation The Slums Port Remonstrance Gamma reaches into the warp, and twists. Her goal is to open her third eye, and establish the extrasensory perceptions that she's used scores of times before. Due to some quirk of the Ourybian noosphere, she unfortunately succeeds in opening up her fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth eyes as well. Indescribable sensations flood her mind for a fraction of a second before she is able to sever the link; she stumbles, panting, heart hammering like a drum, but the bustle of the city continues around her. She's severed the link in time; nothing came through after her. The question is, whether she should try again. --- well, Gamma initially fails her Warp Perception test with a roll of 643, then i realise I accidentally added a 0 to the dice to roll. on rerolling, she cocks up with a roll of 90, which doesn't actually have any negative ramifications. you can keep going until you either Phenomena or succeed, or you can just say "gently caress it" and barge on in without bothering to sense the sentries. if you don't want to be seen you could do any number of things - e.g. throw some small change around, cause some confusion - but that might have subtlety impacts
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Feb 7, 2016 01:03
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Coacervation The Slums Port Remonstrance Frowning, Gamma tries again. Again, the necessary foothold in the Empyrean is denied to her. She pushes harder, and suddenly... everything changes... ...actually, very little changes. For a couple of seconds, all sounds nearby echo curiously. Footsteps, rustles, clanks; anything that sounds, reverberates. A stallholder nearby eyes his poultry selection with suspicion as, miraculously, the quacks of his captive ducks begin to echo. The unnatural sounds fade within a matter of moments, though, and no-one is able to pin it the weird happenings on Gamma. They chalk it up to the fact that the Black Ships will be here soon; these times of omens and portents must be borne with good grace. Panicking, the psyker focuses harder, eyes screwed tight with the effort. She steps in something unpleasant in the meantime, lame foot dragging it unpleasantly across the street, but this falls into the background as her kinaesthetic sense swells enormously and floods the nearby locale with a powerful feeling of self. It's a deeply unsettling sensation for the unprepared, but Gamma's sanctioning, training, and general experience gives her the edge to function under its influence. Doggedly, she suffers input that would dazzle a less experienced psyker, and in return is able to pick out three heartbeats that skip peculiarly when their owners glance at her and Bulworth. There - the lame beggar, the guy with the sign, and the bored fish-salesman. Knowledge is power, and, revealed, these lookouts aren't worth the pitiful income they draw. Gamma and Bulworth will be able to avoid their suspicion with only the most cursory effort. Brushing past the aqueduct control building, she detects five heartbeats in the front chamber (one with the telltale thud of the young), and one in the back. ---- lol so i did five rolls at once, assuming you'd stop at the first success failure followed by phenomena luckily, the phenomena is just everything echoing, so no-one gives a poo poo. like, it's weird, but no-one can trace it to you. the third roll is a decent success - the second awareness test is, again, single figures so Gamma can successfully pinpoint all three "sentries". assuming you guys communicate in some way, either off-screen or directly in post, you can avoid these sentries with trivial effort. four dudes in front (plus a kid), one in the back
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Feb 7, 2016 02:19
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Affiliation The Rookery Port Remonstrance Ignatius asks around, looking for a guy who knows a guy. Something about his stance, maybe, or his choice of vocab, or his tone... the natives seem to not find anything amiss about an off-worlder looking for chemical supplies. Or maybe, now that he's woken up from the boring trudge of the past few weeks, he's just managing to blend in? In any event, Ignatius is directed through alley, catwalk, and in one memorable case through the back room of what looks like a dogfighting arena, if by "dog" one understands "seal analogue with fangs and claws". The arfs and orts recede into the slum hubbub as Ignatius climbs a rickety and upsettingly unsteady set of stairs up to a hole cut in what looks like the side of a disused grain silo. On fighting his way through the fug of sandflies clustering around the door...  ...the view is magnificent. The proprietor of the shop is significantly less so. Gnarled, wizened, and possessing of a singularly unique funky smell, he loops his arm through Ignatius' and proceeds to walk the unfortunate, gagging noble scion through his wares. A hermit crab clatters its claws from its nest inside the old man's hair, indicating that he should keep his distance. The message does not need to be told twice. Ignatius' natural manipulative abilities soon make things a little less unpleasant, though, and after a little bartering for supplies (greatly to the Paracletus' advantage, although he's careful not to highlight this face), sweet-smelling incense fills the air as the two of them talk shop. Ignatius shares a few techniques that he's picked up for chemical decoctions, and a few previously-unknown chemicals get classified, much to the old man's delight. He's unable to suggest even the most cursory medical applications for them, but the old fellow waves off any apology, citing the fact that there's enough people in the neighbourhood willing to snort anything that he'll know soon enough. As he makes his farewells, some time later, the old fellow presses an unmarked ampoule into Ignatius' hands. "Lagniappe", he says. Looks like some of the aggressive altruism of the nobles filters down to the urban poor - nothing to complain about, though. ----- Transportation The Munitorum Port Remonstrance Adept Brunell wasn't expecting much out of today. Twelve, fifteen hours of forms, maybe a few drunks to chase away, and then he could go make eyes at that bartender who keeps slipping him an extra measure of amasec. Instead, he's got a live Mechanicus buzzing across the counter at him and the boss is out on a long lunch again which means all this responsibility falls on him and he's technically the head clerk for now and- Brunell's eyes gleam beneath his goggles. If he's technically the head clerk now... an eye twitches as the clerk cuts off Aperta mid flow. He's gabbling - the stress of the everyday grind has burst like a diseased appendix. "The vehicle is, ah, not a problem at all, Lord. It, ah, I have several in mind right now - please, please, take your pick. Take two. Take three! You, ah, you are well within your rights to requisition any vehicle under Munitorum command that has no outstanding commitments, just, ah, as I'm sure you're aware that the treaty of mutual coopetition between..." Oh, poo poo, thinks Aperta. He's deploying the paperwork... "...allows the departmental head of any Munitorum detachment to formally request the aid of any qualified Scion of Mars in..." ...and is about to ask for me to be deployed full-time... "..unprecedented volumes of, ah, backlog of, ah, shi- stuff we need doing." Aperta makes a spirited attempt to deflect this assault using the power of the brain. "While I appreciate your request, how am I to attend my duties if I am unable to travel? And how would I travel, if your duties prevent me from arranging transportation?" "Easy! Easy!" crows the increasingly unhinged clerk - he's speaking to a Mechanicus and and and... "We'll lodge you here! You can take my cell, I'll stay on the shop floor! It'll be fantastic, we'll get so far ahead of the backlog that.. that... we... we..." The clerk trails off. "So what do you say!?" --- Coacervation The Slums Port Remonstrance The operation boss squints to see in the gloom. Is the tough, brutal man in front of him holding a gun? Or isn't he? And... is that someone else in the shadows? --- so Ignatius demonstrates a remarkable degree of aptitude for finding headshops, almost equalling the failure of his attempts to pump deckhands for information, and his subsequent escape from the hands of the urchins. Clues from the Crowds has already been used today so can't be re-used, but with a roll of 13 for 4DoS on the inquiry roll, it's not needed. so on the assumption he has time to kill - i have done three tests, in order of commerce, medicae, trade - chymist. results are good - 4DoS on commerce, complete failure on Medicae, 1DoS on Chymist. the acolytes now have a contact who provides +20 to Requisition tests for chems, drugs, and precursor chemicals (not for making explosives). Ignatius also gets a free syrette of DeTox, which counteracts the effect of mundane drugs and poisons at the cost of spending 1d10 minus Toughness Bonus rounds pissing, making GBS threads and puking. bear in mind a round is six seconds, so if you roll weirdly you could fully evacuate in under six seconds and then be ready for combat afterwards. that's pretty fuckin' impressive in anyone's book. aperta's got some real fuckin' bad luck. i assumed the first attempt would be an untrained, but really easy +40 Intimidate test using intelligence - oh look it's 3DoF. maybe aperta could +0 Logic his way out of it - it's me austin, it's 6DoF. basically, as it stands Aperta can either take a Subtlety hit for formally refusing this request, or accept the offer of temporary lodgings and a fairly hefty workload (significantly reducing potential for downtime activities with the possibility of Munitorum contacts and potential Influence gains), or fate-point reroll; Fate can be used to auto-pass the logic test as per Mechanicus background unrelated, Aperta has a really great typo on his charsheet: Clues from the Crowds - 1/day re-roll test made to gather information from large group or crows. Bulworth has walked into a room with a guy with Quick Draw without his gun out; as I've given DeathSandwich narrative control of this bit it is kind of unfair to roll with things as they currently stand, so this is a chance to change things up so you've got a gun in hand. I did sort of explicitly say "you get an intimidation bonus for being at gunpoint" rather than "you get an intimidation bonus for vaguely referring to the presence of guns". at present you are literally only intimidating him into staying silent, which will have commensurate impact on his Disposition and may make him less happy to tell you things - i have gone on about "hey maybe let me know what you're aiming to get out of this", so maybe think about what else you want to get out of this situation. i don't have many more chances left in me before i start maliciously loving you over. also I would like to know whether Gamma is also involved in this scene. she can indeed assist with intimidation; it is a basic skill.
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Feb 11, 2016 00:17
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Transportation The Munitorum Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hnv27g-CLLo It isn't every day that a towering, spindly incarnation of all you have been raised to respect castigates you in your place of work, but Adept Brunell takes it like a trooper. His cheeks burn but his voice remains steady as he leads Aperta to the boat enclosure, and he perks up visibly at Aperta's parting words. He heads off to complete the necessary redactions with a faint spring in his step, which is spoiled slightly as he squelches on a particularly tenacious frond of seaweed. Perhaps there's a chance that looming techpriest might be back to help. They're normally pretty good about that, although... Brunell frowns as he realises he's signed the boat over without even asking for a name. Well, it's probably fine. ----- Coacervation The Slums Port Remonstrance It's been a tough couple of days for Malk. The recent heatwave's been drumming up more demand for his services, true, but it also means more people are going away thirsty 'cause there's only so much his guys can eke out of the aqueduct. Essentially his guys makes a living by being too small to swat, and too much trouble to let the maintenance crews in - they can bottle up the resultant drip and condensation, and bam, easy creds. Well, not many creds. But some. Problem is, the Gull's been demanding a larger cut to keep operating, and thinks Malk's protestations are just excuses. Tempers have been fraught, he's not been sleeping easy, and he keeps having night terrors about... ...intruders!  After that embarrassing squeak, the gang leader really doesn't have much way of saving face in front of the combined glowers of Bulworth and Gamma, and, relieved not to find leaden death pointing straight at him, pretty much spills his guts at the barest prodding from the detective. Yes, the operation is illegal, but it basically boils down to squatting. Yes, he's really called Malk. He's got his redundancy papers to prove it. Yes, he moved in quickly - drat soon after the aqueduct was finished. Mostly because he was immediately made redundant as soon as it was complete, his girl was pregnant, and he didn't feel like yet another trip out on the krill trawlers. Yes, he'd like out, but now that he's in he needs to make regular payments to this sector's paco or he gets his eyelids removed. Who the gently caress are the Deculons? Now that his heart rate's calmed down a bit, Malk doesn't actually seem all that put out by Bulworth's questioning. He's a bit confused, though - the guy's pretty clearly neither with the maintenance crews or with the Gull, so why's he interested in a bit of water theft? ---- Ingratiation Borseote District Port Remonstrance Eadian necks his amasec and leaves as soon as is socially acceptable. It only takes a couple of rounds of braying farewells before he's able to extricate himself, and he emerges blinking into the noonday sun. He does what any self-respecting noble on a bender would do, and stops off briefly at the nearest library. The nearest archives are actually only a couple of blocks away. There's a bit of trouble at the front gates where the guards are attempting to persuade a couple of particularly angry nobles to hold their argument elsewhere, but with the right disdainful cast to his features and purpose to his gait, Eadian is able to ghost straight through without anyone even asking for identification. Once in, though...  ...it's really a question of where to start. Most of the archive is either public records or self-aggrandising propaganda on the part of noble dynasties. It's rather a lot to plow through in a couple of hours, but a quick stroll of the stacks serves to establish that Eadian's first impression is the correct one. The filing system appears... esoteric, to say the least, but a swift conference with a toiling scribe serves to establish that it's the usual system of interlocking primes filed by implied Terran date as per Warp transit times, rather than by local time - once that's established, it's fairly trivial to find the newest chunk of arrivals from the Deculon family. There's a lot of purple prose on the family's virtues, and how their rivals compare unfavourably, and how only the finest personnel are suitable for the Deculon family's works on behalf of the noble people of Ourybia. On the subject of works, there's a brief note of the latest completed projects along with, presumably, greatly inflated analyses of the worth they will bring to their communities. Eadian makes a mental note of them, in case the Acolytes need to check them out for whatever reason, but of greater interest is the stack of volumes that make up this year's annotated family tree of the Deculon dynasty. The summary volume in particular looks like it could be helpful, dense as it is with scholastic shorthand. Eadian slips it into his jacket. ---- Centralisation The Warehouse Port Remonstrance Aperta and Ignatius regard the barge, hauled up into the warehouses' dry dock. Cogitatio whirrs nearby, keeping the tiny, lobstery creature, previously resident in the boat's coolant system, penned into the corner with low-intensity jabs of laser light. Eventually the skull will tire of this and float up to rejoin its master, allowing the creature to scuttle away into the cool of the dockside brine. There's some fairly obvious improvements that could be made, and Aperta's fairly sure he's got the expertise - it's just a matter of time and resources. If it's something that needs to be sorted in an afternoon, an overhaul and tune-up of the engine would probably make the barge a little less sluggish, although it might not do wonders for fuel efficiency. A far more impressive turn of speed could be gained with a hull refit, which would take correspondingly longer. Or there's all sorts of utility devices that could be added... searchlights, hidden lockers, ablative armour... but some of them could draw unwelcome attention, whereas others would need to be tracked down and resourced. Certainly one to ponder. The day is young. ---- so the acolytes have a boat which i will give stats for once i work them out. they also have access to Adept Brunell who, while specialising in motor pool acquisitions, can give a +10-20 (varies) on requisition tests for Munitorum kit (i.e. not illegal, not super-tightly-controlled) in exchange for tedious, Fatiguing technical assistance party subtlety has also increased moderately bulworth essentially almost kills his target with a roll of 2. fine, you win!!! although i still don't know why "shithole shed in the slums occupied by the lowest tier of criminal" makes you think "smoky back office" instead of "lovely rickety shed" anyway - answers, and then some. Malk is reasonably cooperative and shows no particular urge to shout out HELP I'M BEING TALKED TO, although he is a bit puzzled as to who you are and what you want. you can pretty much go "here's my other questions" and then fade out to back at the warehouse if that's preferred, or you can drop questions on him and go do other stuff. or you can kill him. strangle him. end his life and coopt it, taking on the role of a low-level water thief Eadian does what would normally be Scrutiny, i guess, but i'm happy with a scholastic lore: bureaucracy test with the Peer: Noble bonus - not a usual state of affairs, but it kind of makes sense in this context, especially given the subject matter and his Master of Paperwork trait. handily, he would have failed were it not for that bonus. some basic information is obtained, part of which you have already and which Gamma and Bulworth have already investigated. you also have an up-to-date summary family tree (i.e. mangrove thicket) of the Deculon dynasty - this can be used with a +10 Scholastic Lore: Bureaucracy test to verify exactly how close to the centre of the Deculons a given... Deculon is. in other words, how important they probably are. coming back here might be useful if you've got, like, specific stuff to look for rather than showing up and doing this. it's a library. it's pretty big, and anything beyond "yep well we're really awesome" is kind of obfuscated in the texts, and must be inferred and cross-referenced. the deculons are a large family, and they've been around for a while - even winnowing it down to recent stuff, you've still got lots to look at aperta and ignatius can do stuff to the boat once i stat it. basically you can futz around and do a fairly easy tech use test to sort the engine out, for a bonus of +10% speed. hull refit is also pretty easy, gives +10%+DoS x 5 speed increase, takes a couple days and some requisitioning. other stuff is possible, shout what you want to accomplish Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 23:54 on Feb 17, 2016 |
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Feb 17, 2016 23:51
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Coacervation The Slums Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-W59FzOwYIs Malk leans back in his chair as far as he can go, as Gamma bends increasingly forward until their noses are almost touching. He blinks once or twice. "Well, uh, Mart's getting big now." He collects himself, scoots back a little, and begins to elaborate on the other elements in the barrage of questions fired his way. "Gull's, like... if there's somethin' going on in this district and he doesn't get his cut, you're fishfood.", with the plain implication that this "somethin'" refers to "somethin' of questionable legality". "I dunno why he's called Gull. Probably 'cause he eats fuckin' anything, say? Could be his mask, though. Guy wears one of them carnival masks, like, all the time. Just sort of... shows up sometimes, or sometimes it's just one of his guys that come for the cut. Most times, actually. I've only seen him, like, twice. Twice was enough. I dunno how you go about finding him. Dunno why you'd want to." Malk mops his brow with a grimy handkerchief, smearing oil and sweat around. "Guess you'd either have to have some new operation, and wait for him to find you, or you could gently caress around with one that's already in place, but, uh..." he trails off as he realises the implications of what he's saying. "Maybe one he's a bit more interested in", he finishes lamely. "We clear maybe twenny Thrones a day, he ain't exactly got much time for us." Further details of the water-thieves soon emerge. Malk and chums moved in so quickly because most of them worked on the drat aqueduct. Jobbing labour. His boss moved on to other projects for other families as the building came to an end. Big ceremony to commemorate the opening - bit of snagging work - then "thanks guys, now gently caress off" from the building firm. Yeah, he's heard the name "Cizneros" before, he had to wear his best drat outfit to work that day. Bosses had a real spar up 'em that day. She showed up, poked around, yelled at the crew bosses a bit, then zoomed off in some flier. --- "Fuckin'..." Malk's trembling fingers find their way to the bottle of seaweed liqour gently aging in the bottom of his desk. It's sinking in that he's spilled a lot of info to that madly-staring woman and that fucker with the coat. He'd agreed to keep quiet when offered the deal, but honestly, it's probably more to his benefit than to those weirdos who left by the bathroom. He sighs, and starts looking for his hammer to nail shut that goddamn window. --- let's break up the classical stuff a bit. gamma and bulworth finish off their advanced interrogation techniques and leave. inexplicably, Malk passes his Disposition test and is fine with never speaking of these events again. this would only be possible with a servile personality type as pretty much all others reduce disposition on a successful intimidation test, and he doesn't seem the Aggressive type. this will probably matter more if you have more dealings with him. i still need to do a personalities post in the OOC thread malk is some guy who sells bootleg bottled water to nearby slumdwellers and small businesses for poverty line profits (bigger businesses buy the water licences). he has limited dealings with Gull, who is the sector paco. this means something like "guy who fucks you up if you don't pay him". higher levels of organisation can be inferred, but malk knows gently caress all about 'em. you wanna meet the guy, you'll need to devote some time to either establishing criminal connections or by loving with an established operation that's big enough to warrant closer oversight by the guy. the benefits of this are, at present, uncertain, but perhaps later you'll have some need for a proper underworld contact. vague physical description of Adept Cizneros has been obtained; rough height, rough build, one more defining feature that would be visible from a distance (e.g. a limp). bulworth, gamma, work out the details please. she did some yelling but that's just because she's highly strung, not because of some deep conspiracy.
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Feb 22, 2016 20:13
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Centralisation The Warehouse Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KbMqVfdG2sE let's get it out of the way early. get it out of our systems Shadows lengthen as the Acolytes filter back to their warehouse base in ones and twos. Aperta and Ignatius, busying themselves with refitting the cell's new maritime acquisition, are alerted by the soft chimes of the door entry system to the return of Bulworth, Gamma, and later, Eadian. Information is shared, guardedly or candidly, but most of it comes out eventually. Input is sought, or offered, as the group consider their findings. Some have focused on groundwork, laying the way for others to tackle their objectives more directly - all of them find the rust and boredom of the past few weeks and months falling away, and skills sharpening through use. Eadian's chance eavesdropping and subsequent invitation draws considerable attention. Iseppo Deculonius, cousin-administrator of Deculon ceramics interests and an up-and-coming corporate fixer for Orsa Deculonius, is holding one of his sporadic gambling binges at a well-regarded, luxury cathouse in the Rookery, for just him and a few dozen of his closest friends and hangers-on. One of these hangers-on, Enfield, has had to give up on attendance due to pressing concerns elsewhere - thanks to a deft bit of favour-trading, Eadian's walked away with the tickets and details, and Enfield's creditors get told he's left Port Remonstrance. Attendance at these nights is usually hotly-contested, ticket-trading is rife, and Iseppo's pretty lax on keeping the guest-list up to date - besides, he loves that people fight over the chance to attend one of his parties. Iseppo is, possibly, enmeshed deeply enough in dynastic management to know of Adept Cizneros' whereabouts. However, this poker night is his stress-relief valve. He's not, in short, going to want to talk about work. Running things through, it becomes pretty apparent that should the Acolytes wish to pursue this lead, they'll need a few more steps to their plan than to show up and start talking. They'll probably need to isolate Iseppo from his hangers-on, isolate him from his bodyguards, and persuade him to share his knowledge. The Rookery's a pretty permissive neighbourhood, but bringing a techpriest along to one of these parties without an explanation is going to cause a little bit of a stir. Apart from anything else, they generally have little interest in affairs of the flesh. Likewise, showing up with a weird-looking midget with cyanosis probably won't cause too much concern, but if it becomes apparent that she's a psyker, then some very hard questions are probably going to get asked about scrying and luck. Aperta and Ignatius finish up work on the boat - now all it needs is a name - as discussion stretches on into the evening. Over the next few days, the Acolytes firm up plans for their next steps... --- so everyone has returned from initial intel gathering, eventually. 300xp for the first day - 200 for progress, 100 because the RP's been good. i don't want to start splitting it by player just yet. fate points and wounds refresh. anything you want to keep secret (e.g. your new urchin buddies, your association with some clerk, your knowledge of the Gull) you can do, if you want. idk why you'd want to but whatever maybe you have reasons. state in your next post any secrets you're keeping. for the sake of expediency i am assuming Eadian does not keep the next stage of the game secret, otherwise we get to do another intel-gathering stage. anything you don't keep secret becomes party knowledge. orsa is, as mentioned, close to the centre of the family. you have been invited to a space poker game. really, the poker game is the central setpiece of this guy's massive party. if you are going to play, this involves sums of money large enough for nobles to feel worth winning. you do not have this sort of cash just lying around - it is a Scarce (-10) requisition test to lay hands on it in just three days. alternatively, remember you can spend 1d5 influence before making the test to auto-pass. of course, if you do well at gambling then your Influence stat will rise accordingly. nothing's stopping all of you from attempting the test, but remember the subtlety hit for attempting a -10 req, as well as the chance of losing influence through excessive failure. if you are not going to play, you'll probably have to field a few questions on why exactly you're there, and it gives you less facetime with Iseppo timeframes are now a bit loose, because i want you to ask me for details that you want to know. this will either be stuff eadian knows, stuff you guys can go find out, or stuff you can't find out, and if the timeframe's loose it's easy to handle everything at once. there will be a bit more clarification in your possible approach in the OOC thread this is also a three-day gap in which you can do requisitions, crafting, modifications, and gently caress about with the boat. i am still yet to see an explicit "i want to do this to the boat" post in this thread, unless i'm being blind.
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Feb 27, 2016 20:33
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Centralisation The Warehouse Port Remonstrance Parts of Cogitatio's presentation are overlaid with projected work packages and resource analyses, enabling the Acolytes to make a quick decision on how best to proceed with adjustments to their as-yet unnamed boat. ---- so as part of your HORRIBLE TECH HERESY you can do, assuming 12 hours in a day: basic smuggling compartment - trivial time, trivial effort, can be assumed as part of refit already undertaken, otherwise 4 hours decent smuggling compartment - Routine (+20) acquisition, +30 Tech Use to install properly otherwise counts as basic - 4 hours exceptional smuggling compartment - Average (+0) acquisition, +10 Tech Use to install properly otherwise counts as decent (1-3DoF), basic (3DoF+) - 8 hours basic engine refit - Abundant (+30) acquisition, +30 Tech Use to install, can be assumed as part of refit already undertaken, otherwise 4 hours decent engine refit - Routine (+20) acquisition, +10 Tech Use to install, 16 hours basic auspex rig - Scarce (-10) acquisition, +20 Tech Use to install, 4 hours boosted auspex rig - Scarce (-10) acquisition, +10 Tech Use to install, 12 hours basic voxcaster rig - Scarce (-10) acquisition, +20 Tech Use to install, 4 hours boosted voxcaster rig - Scarce (-10) acquisition, +10 Tech Use to install, 12 hours rules in OOC thread. you get one assumed installation for free, so gimme a tech-use test if you choose the engine. the skull does not count as a trained assistant, but Ignatius would. this doesn't include time spent actually sourcing the kit, and you might have other stuff you want to spend your requisitionin' time on
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Feb 28, 2016 18:19
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Procrastination The Warehouse Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K4XnrxNRc2Y Bulworth steps out to grab a late dinner, as the acolytes completely fail to do any sensible groundwork for their approach to Iseppo's party, fixating instead on their new boat. It's been a busy day already, but the wise agent makes the most of any downtime in preparation and in planning - it's never certain when next an opportunity will arise. Many are those who have fallen, obsessing over their means rather than their ends. The night is muggy, and the restaurant has its shutters thrown wide open, revealing a room of partly-occupied benches and a counter apparently carved from what looks like one titantic tooth. Maybe that's what catches Bulworth's attention, or maybe it's the scent of lemongrass, but in any case, tonight's meal is sorted. The arbite's eaten corpsestarch, protein paste, gruel, and far worse things in the past, but for some, asceticism is born of necessity rather than choice. A true servant of the Emperor doesn't need to live off slop to prove it. "Leviathan tooth, boyo!" is the proprietor's cackling answer to Bulworth's inevitable question, tying up his order in large leaves of algae parchment. "Bigger 'n a supertrawler! Kilometres long!" He accepts the proffered credits and tosses a handful of krill crackers into the bag as a bonus. "Tore this from it's mouth meself!", he adds, slapping the countertop, worn smooth by countless forearms. He acknowledges Bulworth's raised eyebrow and pointed glance at the obvious signs of toolwork around the edges of the counter. "Well, ok. Sometimes, maybe once or twice in a great circuit, the dredgers find dead 'uns just floating in the open ocean. They come into the shallows to die. We drag 'em back to the krillfields, use 'em for fertiliser. And yeah, it's not a tooth, it's baleen. I did chop it out meself, though. That much is true!" The arbite threads his way back through the crowds towards the warehouse. It's the twenty-first hour, and second-shift's just gotten out of their work detail - workers in stained overalls throng the streets, heading for drink or dinner. A preacher's putting on quite a show, raising spittle as he praises the Emperor's ships that will soon come to scour the planet of witch and wyrd. His audience have the usual mixture of reverence and confusion that normally accompanies a servant of the Emperor when confronted with matters theological. Bulworth returns to the warehouse, to find out what progress has been made on planning the approach to Iseppo's party - what recon needs doing, what resources need to be procured, and how appropriate distractions will be devised. ---- so DOWN JACKET FETISH posted:timeframes are now a bit loose, because i want you to ask me for details that you want to know. this will either be stuff eadian knows, stuff you guys can go find out, or stuff you can't find out, and if the timeframe's loose it's easy to handle everything at once. there will be a bit more clarification in your possible approach in the OOC thread by which i mean "stuff you want to know in order to plan your three objectives, of clearing away Iseppo's hangers on, his bodyguards, and getting him talking. if your plan consists of "well, we... show up, and we... ask him things", you will fail. your current knowledge base stands at "there's a party and poker's involved".
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Mar 6, 2016 18:20
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Procrastination The Warehouse Port Remonstrance Discussion continues. On the topic of extracting Iseppo from the party, several things become clear - once he's within the power of the Acolytes, it's reasonably certain that given time, he would tell them everything they wanted to know and then some. However, problems begin to emerge after the supposed interrogation - either they release him, in which case he returns to the Deculon family with a story of "some weirdos kidnapped me and pumped me for information on our architect!" at round about the time that the Acolytes would be showing up requesting an audience. Or, they kill him, meaning they would need to work fast to get to Adept Cizneros before the family sees anything amiss. Establishing an idea of security and escape routes is fairly easily achieved - someone with an eye for surveillance just needs to loiter around the planned venue. For more information, perhaps overtures could be made towards those who traditionally supply muscle for this sort of thing - local law enforcement, or, on the flip side, local gangs. In terms of blackmail material, the obvious vice that Iseppo indulges in is, well, gambling. A big enough win for the Acolytes - or a big enough loss by the Acolytes - could easily put him in a position where an information trade could smooth the transaction to acceptable levels. Part of the tension that comes with an Ourybian noble gambling ring is the fact that magnanimity is just as much a currency as anything else. Losing a fortune at cards and playing it off correctly can increase your social cachet far more than any crass acquisition of money ever could. On the other hand, winning a fortune, and demurely accepting a seemingly valueless trinket in lieu of the original stake, also has the potential to increase your standing. Eadian warns, however, that it also has the potential to spark off bloodshed if performed crudely or in an attempt to claim a closer association than in fact exists between the two parties - dynastic feuds have kicked off over less in the past. Other options could probably be found, given time. Straight-up intimidation via blackmail is only one tool the Acolytes possess - there's also the opportunity for raw persuasion, either by honeyed words or by deceit. The information could simply be bartered for, although the difficulty remains on how to get Iseppo talking shop at a social event. Sheer weight of personal influence could be brought to bear - the benefit of this approach would be that it doesn't even need to be framed in business terms. "I have a friend on the southern isles simply desperate to host the world's finest gamesmen, but has no arena in which to pit them, for want of a suitable architect..." On the topic of Orsa, the acolytes struggle to think of a way to dig up any particularly nasty vices on one of the public-facing heads of a major noble dynasty. It can be assumed that, should they actually exist, their traces will be hidden from public view with an expertise penetrable only to stables of savants. One would have to go poking around her private chambers or something to dig anything useful up. ---- i.e. "all possible social approaches could probably work, you just need to have a plan to spend significant amounts of facetime with the host of the party". gambling is the obvious one, for which Eadian would be best placed - you can of course come up with others. have Aperta give his regards from the mechanicus. offer him some cool drugs that Ignatius made with your new buddy the alchemist. Eadian can discuss interesting linguistic gambling games he's come across in his studies with Trade - Linguist. Bulworth and Gamma kinda fall down at this point, but are ideally poised to a) deal with hangers-on and bodyguards, and b) spot opportunities through their joint Awareness/Scrutiny training equally, try thinking outside your skills, start thinking with Influence. what if you spread rumours - they don't need to be true rumours - along the lines of "hey there's a big gathering of rich nobles at this place on this date, and there's gently caress all in the way of security" among certain groups? you can try looking for more dirt on iseppo. you can also try looking for more dirt on orsa. i cannot promise it will succeed. i am slightly baffled by the continued instinctual treatment of an apparently friendly family as hostiles to be surveilled when all you really want is their architect, but w/e
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Mar 8, 2016 22:17
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gamma's intra-party investigation is probably scrutiny, yeah. she scrutinizes the poo poo out of ignatius with a roll of 2 for 4DoS. ignatius can counter it with whatever skill he fancies that he can make fit the narrative; whoever wins the dice-off gets a +5 to their next roll, and gamma gets her 50xp regardless. this is currently the evening of day 0. the urchins will drop off their package round about day 2. party happens on evening of day 3. finding rare wine etc. as a gift is a Requisition. doing some legwork to find someone who can sell it to you, and thus give you a gigantic bonus to your test, involves some skill/schmoozing. it looks like you're taking diplomacy with a gift as your "get info out of iseppo" approach, which is perfectly legit - don't feel locked into this or anything, but you don't need to expand on this any more if you don't want to. ignatius' claim that the crew didn't have to kill each other for scraps is, in fact, correct. anyone who lives on the sealed/forgotten/underdecks would by definition not be crew, and as a ship-noble there's honestly no reason why he'd ever have checked out those areas or even know about them. even on small frigates there's still enough space for hullghasts and horrible hive-city-style parasites to live, and also for people to hang out and eke out a miserable existence
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Mar 9, 2016 19:46
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it sounds reasonable, but 1) please use "speech marks", and 2) maybe suggest an alternative to simply showing up as thrillseekers that will further your aims. maybe a cover story building on the idea of showing up for a good time - you know the dude likes gambling, maybe you're presenting as something that could appeal to this. it doesn't need to be a deep cover story, just needs to last the night
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Mar 9, 2016 23:05
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I don't mind, edits are fine
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Mar 10, 2016 10:19
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you're the designated card sharp thanks to high Logic, and you're the one who can get large quantities of ready cash by playing off your noble connections with a Requisition test. you don't need to, but you'll not be hanging with the high rollers if you don't see the OOC thread, though - don't worry about sorting that for now, it'll be cleared up in tomorrow's update
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Mar 16, 2016 00:00
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Reification The Warehouse Port Remonstrance  The night wears on, a muggy summer squall moves in as debate rages on at the warehouse. The Acolytes' conversation, nascent plan embedded, circles round and wheels, banking and diving unexpectedly like the cormorants that nest in the rotting hulks near the shipyards. The group disperses eventually, groggy, minds buzzing - lists of arms to twist, favours to tap, resources to acquire flitting through their heads. But it's been a long day in oppressive heat, and even the most dedicated weapon of the Imperium needs occasional maintenance... ---- Vinification The Rookery Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eab_eFtTKFs  A piercing shriek cuts the air, causing heads to turn and bodyguards to clutch at their hips, before it dissolves into giggles. A herd - possibly a "bray" - of younger Deculons sprint through the dining hall, jostling partygoers aside and overturning tables, doubtless spilling more amasec than most of the urban poor would see in their entire lives. A young woman, presumably one of the hired companions at this place, sits hoisted precariously on their shoulders, hair streaming as the group dash through into the back rooms. The Gilded Thorn, then - the venue for Iseppo Deculonius' monthly financial debauch. Clinging to a fortuitously sturdy rocky foundation on the fringes of a seedy area of the Rookery, this house of ill repute has probably been a staple of young nobles for hundreds of years. The style is very much faded velvet, golden brocade, and shadowy corners - dingy enough to add excitement, but well-curated and not so decrepit as to cause offence. The furniture is comfortably and subtly wealthy - off-world teaks, imported brass with a patina. Past a lengthy, wide, plushly carpeted security corridor leading from the main entrance, the visitor is brought into a large, open bar, and relaxation area. Couches, bookshelves, and deep seats allow for effusive gestures of hospitality; attendants are on hand for more pecuniary services. The wine list is, of course, exceptional, and the metallic tang of obscura smoke is detectable even before the heavy double doors are thrown wide. Iseppo himself occupies a central couch, holding court among those who know him. Minor nobles with full wallets jockey for position near the older man - approaching the prime of middle age, he is a gaunt figure, sandy hair visible below his periwig and a morass of scars twisting his thin smile into something at times friendly, at times belligerent. Apparently this was the result of a physical forfeit staked on some long-forgotten game of chance. He doesn't like to talk about it, and his bodyguards, one at either shoulder, make it a tricky subject to bring up. Even Aperta presumably rolled his eyes once their names were discovered in the course of the group's investigations - a pair of twins, apparently, who go by Thunder and Lightning. Maybe it's part of some subtle plot in order to appear amateurish to put aggressors at their ease. The evening's schedule was fairly easily discovered, too, simply by idle chatter with those in Eadian's social circle. The Acolytes probably have about half an hour left of Iseppo mingling on the ground floor, before the party retreats to the private hall upstairs - it's this gathering that the party are on the guest list for. Once the group is good and socially lubricated, a small but complicated tournament facilitated by the Gilded Thorn's maitré d' occupies the evening - Iseppo himself invariably ends up on the final table where the real cut-throat, make-or-break fortunes are won. Whether through sheer skill, deference on the part of his guests, or manipulation by the staff. Really though, the night begins in reasonably good fun - access to the final table is mostly a matter of who wants to spend the most, and if raw skill is lacking, then making it apparent that you're willing to outbid the opponents is also an effective, if ostentatious, way of progressing. Of course, the further you progress, the stiffer the competition, both in terms of talent and in pocket. Apparently Iseppo then tends to spend the rest of the night performing wagers of a more physical kind among the attendants, before leaving at some point the next day. The Acolytes, entrance made, find things pretty much as they expected from their reconnaissance. Most of the lesser nobles rely on herd safety and their own duelling abilities for safety; some of the more high-ranking ones trail behind a family armsman or hired scavver, to add to the facade of "slumming". There's maybe ten men under arms in this entrance area, discounting Iseppo's own guards, and probably just as many armed, underworld-affiliated "security consultants" on staff, dotted around and managing the crowds that throng under low-hanging, chipped chandeliers. Large, obvious comm-beads are in evidence, in stark contrast to the barely-noticeable ones nestling in the ears of the Acolyte team - batons and the occasional shock unit hang in scabbards, but these men are professionals who deal with rich, spoiled clientèle on a daily basis, rather than common street thugs. Odds are, the beating sticks don't get used all that often, but equally likely these men and women will have other tricks up their short, military sleeves. The group's story of being attendants and attachés to Eadian, as an off-world noble, passes muster with very little comment - partly because it is almost entirely true, mostly because this is a party and at present nobody is looking for a reason to doubt it. So long as the group blend in and take it fairly easy, the chances of someone taking umbrage are slim to none - casual questions along the lines of "So, how about those classified military secrets then?" or "So what do you think of the Ruinous Powers?" will probably cause some concern. The Pelicanus, freshly kitted out in roughly the same sort of shabby-chic finery as the Gilded Thorn itself, stands moored nearby. Either conveniently close, or for a quick getaway, depending on how the night progresses. Their plan is ready to put into action, but naturally, no plan survives contact with the enemy, even if the "enemy" is a drunken, fat brat intent on telling you how terribly important he is. Aperta is poised to initiate his scheme to cause a distraction among the main crowd, which can then be triggered at his leisure. Unfortunately, he has been cornered - literally cornered, hemmed in by bodies - by a small group of smitten, bantam second-cousins and hangers-on, all vying for stories of working with machines and possibly attempting to feign interest. Gamma is near enough to help, sipping her drink awkwardly after attempting conversation with one of the security consultants - her contingency plans are not yet needed, but should things go south, she'll hopefully be able to bring things back on track. The other acolytes have approached the central dias which holds Iseppo's round table. Between them, Eadian and Ignatius have devised an initial approach in order to maximise facetime with their target - they have every reason to believe that the bigger an impression on Iseppo they can make now, the more likely they are to progress smoothly through the evening's tournament. The staff at the Gilded Thorn are by now old hands at all the subtle ways to influence a round of betting - the expression on the face of someone able to view your opponent's cards is a goldmine for the perceptive. However, the throng around the table is quite thick, and attracting attention will probably take a bit of social finesse. Bulworth, armed and armoured, looms at their shoulders - his plan for shifting the bodyguards out of the way is quick and to the point, but is probably going to be hindered significantly by the fact that one of the other noble's bodyguards simply won't stop staring at him. Maybe it's a case of mistaken identity, maybe he's just itching for a fight, but under this scrutiny the Arbite will struggle to get anything clandestine done. Time is ticking. The three days' preparation time was spent wisely - new equipment hangs unfamiliarly under the Acolyte's robes - but now might be the time to put it to use. ---- ok we'll fast forward you have Good Microbeads, a snazzy new boat interior, and a Scarce-or-better requisition each. ignatius has a Suitable Gift for iseppo; Eadian has Gamblin' Stacks for playing with. you've probably had time to sort other stuff, but i want rolls for that. you are in the Gilded Thorn, a classy joint. here is a map of the ground floor should it be relevant. upstairs is modular and is currently just a big gaming room, like the picture above. it is about the size of the entrance hall. you are emplaced as Eadian, Offworld Noble, and Associates. this is fine; if you play significantly out of character - like, if you feel the urge to spout off detailed descriptions of the amount of knowledge you have on Ourybia, or if you proclaim a hatred for all nobles or something, eyebrows might get raised. you have done some recon. your characters have schemes. these schemes will, when put into place, successfully move you to the next stage of your attempt to get Iseppo alone. you're still rolling for them - failures will just introduce complications, successes will dictate how well you manage to do this and give you more time at the end to pump info out of iseppo's braaaain. it is up to you, the players to form some sort of narrative for what these schemes comprise. if you get stuck, post in the OOC thread - think about what skill you want to use and how noisy you want to be and we can brainstorm something. you each have designated schemes. bulworth has the plan to shift the bodyguards; aperta has a plan for the main hangers-on; eadian and ignatius have a joint plan in getting close to iseppo and getting him to talk; gamma has one backup to remove any particularly irritating complication that emerges from a "failed" roll. these are all flexible and can be shuffled around as people desire; you just need to do 'em to achieve your objective. none of these schemes will cost you subtlety regardless of what they are, unless you wish to trade Subtlety points for bonuses. the easy, default option for this scenario is that you gamble your way to the top - designated card sharp does the Logic tests, everyone else subtly helps him by spotting cheaters, bribing staff, or warping the strands of fate to his benefit or something. i am more than happy for you to break out from this. gambling can, after all, cost you Influence if you do badly and still want to progress.
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Mar 17, 2016 23:45
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motion predictor is fine - phrasing in the book is ambiguous but i choose to believe a "bonus to Availability" means it actually goes up three ranks in availability, whereas a "bonus to your requisition test" would be, y'know, a bonus to the test. someone's gonna have to give me a +0 Tech-Use test before you can use it though (+0 adjusted availability = +0 bonus). this can be backdated to your three days' preptime. amusingly, as written in the rulebook, you need to do a Trade: Armourer test to attach weapons, and tech use to remove them. this means the Frontier World background bonus, i.e. "+20 bonus to Tech Use rolls when adding weapon mods", is literally useless as written. your goal's to get Iseppo's bodyguards away from him, not the generic house security - i'll go with this if you're happy with it, and have him dismiss them for a minute to see what all the fuss is about, but if you wanna tailor your approach a bit more to specifically target his stupidly-named bodyguards, you'll get more of a bonus e: also maybe say where you got the motion predictor from because christ you don't just pull one of these off the shelves at k-mart Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 00:11 on Mar 23, 2016 |
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Mar 22, 2016 22:32
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like i say, if you're happy with your current plan then it's perfectly serviceable. no penalties or anything - you can assume that by luck or design you can time it for a particularly tense moment, aggravating Iseppo and making him wave away his guards to go see what the issue is. it's just if you can think of ways to target it a bit more finely you'll get commensurately better results
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Mar 23, 2016 14:55
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Auscultation The Rookery Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-qESekH-Z1E  The Acolytes circulate. Although not all of the team could be considered practised social butterflies, they nevertheless know their task - they have work to do, and no mere trifles along the lines of "stage fright" or "social anxiety" or "a complete inability to understand the motives of people talking to you" will stop them from performing their duties to the Emperor. Aperta's duty to the Emperor, at this moment, appears to be lecturing a gaggle of pimply noble youths on the basics of engine repair. A keener student of human nature might have realised quite what it means to be the person who, on heading to a high-class bar and knocking-shop, gets sidetracked by a techpriest - the group that surround Aperta are destined for the kitchen, in the great party that is their life. They listen, rapt, clustering round closer, as Aperta desperately recounts his latest chores in as dry a manner as possible, occasionally stretching out hands to get a closer look at Cogitatio, who buzzes out of reach or dissuades questing fingers with minimum-power jabs of laser light. After a full quarter-hour, not being used to talking for so long, Aperta is perhaps less careful with his words than he could otherwise be. On making reference to "thus completes the Rite of Ignition", the pack of easily-excited youths get it into their collective heads that they've been instructed on some mystery of the Mechanicus. None of them have the whole story, and even if they did it would be rote information that even the lowliest technomat could regurgitate - nevertheless, it crackles back and forth between the members of the group like a live wire, being added to or corrupted in each misheard phrase. The group adjourn to the bar to argue and discuss, partly out of genuine interest and partly as an attempt to drunkenly puff up the importance of their hob-nobbing, leaving Aperta free to slip away, but in coming days the techpriest may hear his "priceless wisdom" being discussed with a wry smile by more sober members of high society. Bulworth, hardened to eating pretty much whatever's put in front of him, has a fairly philosophical view on digestive systems as a whole. Still.. arranging to have a consignment of tainted drinks delivered to the Gilded Thorn was the easy part. Strong-arming the sous chef into a richer and more sickly menu than usual was a bit trickier. Tamping down on the maelstrom currently building in his guts, though... that'll take some doing. The Arbite's deliberately not eaten anything today, and so is first through the door into the backroom when the gripes take hold after about twenty minutes. There's a hairy moment or two when some group of idiot, bickering morons in ridiculous costumes completely block his escape, but he's able to politely barge past with minimal fuss. They didn't get a look at his face, anyway. Unpleasantness ensues. Pale-faced and gasping, Bulworth finally takes his microbead off mute and figures he's probably got about an hour, hour and a half before everyone else who's drunk the tainted beverage has a similar experience. With grim satisfaction, he notes that there's only a handful of backrooms on the top floor where the gaming night will be held, far fewer than there are bodyguards. His satisfaction vanishes, however, as he notices the bodyguard Thunder standing behind Iseppo with one of the local inland beers in his hand, glass of seltzer untouched beside him. Maybe Eadian or Ignatius can come up with a reason to get that drink down him. Gamma keeps a watchful eye on Aperta's goings-on, as she ensconces herself in a corner booth with a great view of the whole bar. It's also great for foot traffic - she soon draws an appreciative audience, and can pick and choose her clients pretty much at will. More helpfully, Gamma is able to palm the odd card here or there using classic misdirection tricks handed down from soothsayer to con-artist to oracle to racketeer. The psyker fumbles a few cards, but no-one notices given the context of the party, her skill at prevarication, and, to be honest, her slightly unsettling appearance. There's a couple of gamblers watching with amusement, but with no great suspicion - were she to try this at the gambling table proper, she'd likely struggle. A bickering couple leave her table, each attempting to claim the sobriquet "Man of Vision" for themselves after repeated encounters with the Eight of Eyes, as Gamma attempts to contextualise a few choice tidbits of information that she's managed to elicit. A great deal of the concern from the less dissolute members of the party centres around the sheer amount of work that the oncoming Black Ships will generate. The psyker tithe is always merry hell to coordinate, and some of the actual professionals hanging around have been pulling twenty-hour days trying to get the arrangements in order. Interestingly, it looks like the fleet's due to arrive in about five weeks - roughly the same time as the cell's Inquisitor, and about a week after the celebratory Carnivalé kicks off. Warp travel is always fraught with unexpected delays or chronological uncertainties, so presumably all the arrangements have to be done by the seat of the city's collective pants. There's also talk of heightened tensions between the Deculons and what could be termed their main rivals, the Hepaticons. It's all forced smiles and handshakes on the surface, of course, but some of the more hotheaded rakes on both sides have been getting into trouble, drumming up imagined slights and snubs. While all this is going on, of course, Ignatius and Eadian make probably one of the most flamboyant entrances into the Gilded Thorn that the staff can dredge from their short, short memories. The whirring, clanking contraption soon has the crowd absolutely enthralled - they practically stampede away from Iseppo, who is left blinking in a rather nonplussed fashion until he realises what the attraction is and, smiling wryly, ambles over to examine the show. Feathered, painted, or robed, nobles, clientèle and attendants alike alike fall over themselves with laughter, chasing bubbles around the bar, diving towards them with jaws gaping, or wafting them towards those they wish to ingratiate themselves with. Turning his twisted smile towards the pair at the centre of this new attraction, Iseppo limps slightly towards them, leaning heavily on his cane with one hand and extending the other one shakily in greeting. Up close, the noble has a certain presence to him that his lesser peers seem to lack - maybe it's the gravitas of age, maybe it's the attitude that comes with operating at the heart of the dynasty. Apparently unarmed, and with what sounds like genuine, if patronising, cordiality, he addresses the pair of acolytes. "Ah, our out-system friends. I am so glad you've chosen to join our little soirée. How does Remonstrance suit you?" --- thesaurus gettin' some work today aperta gets surrounded by yospos. he basically does what would be a textbook use of the skill Blather from DH1, which has been dropped as being too niche. it's been folded into Deceive, oddly. so what i'll let this one stand as is an opposed +20 Deceive check against INT rather than FEL, with the nobles testing against WP. Aperta is untrained so it pretty much just goes to a straight intelligence vs willpower matchup. 57 (2DoF) vs 21 (X DoS) - the nobles are lapping it up. so you failed this, but no worries - your complication is that noble gossip will be aware of a bunch of idiot nerds who think they've been told great secrets. literally anyone who matters - absolutely anyone - will be aware that there's been no actual secret sharing, so the only actual penalty will be a bit of gentle ribbing and minimal Subtlety loss. as slight recompense, Aperta gets a major bonus to Interaction with nerdy Deculon nobles - nerdbles - when playing up his mechanicus status. operation awkward monotask servo skull is go - you're free to kick that off whenever you like, which will, presumably, be at a suitable climactic point. gamma says sooth. straight-up Trade check against 45 - 34 means 2DoS, so it's comfortably established as a party piece. operation desperate distraction is go - if anything gets out of hand, gamma can fire off some sort of "hey look over here" that will defuse the situation, no roll needed. also a little help with the throng around iseppo, plus some crumbs of info. bulworth gets his gun see'd to. could have installed it himself with that roll. he takes a level of fatigue due to 1) not eating, 2) everting; the "not eating" is a narrative constraint to explain why you don't run off at the same time as everyone else, thus being useless to the "talk to Iseppo" scene. reminder that in DH2 you can take fatigue equal to your characteristic bonuses before it starts being a problem for that characteristic - it's not a flat -10 to all stats anymore. operation tainted fountain is go - the bodyguards will start drifting away at the appropriate time, with the current exception of Thunder. ignatius rolls a lot o' dice and shows up with a poppers machine. fitting for a gambling night! kicks off with Tech-Use - assuming +10 for simple contraption and +10 for skilled help, it's a target number of Int + 20, or 55. diceroll is 44, so that's 2DoS. drug creation is probably Trade - Chymist followed by medicae if you wanted to make it, but in terms of just grabbing the stuff it's straight-up Requisition - TN 61 for +0 Req test and +20 for the buddy, with a roll of 51 giving another 2DoS. crowd control is auto-passed, and finally the Deceive check is 25 vs 65 (45 skill + 20 simple deception), for 4DoS. upshot of this is as follows - 1) your machine's awesome and impresses people (add it to charsheet if you're keeping it, might come in handy for something else another time. one other time.), 2) your drug's awesome and no-one in the crowd has a bad reaction to it, 3) the crowd's eating out of your palm, 4) you can portray yourself as as intoxicated, or not intoxicated, as you like, and 5) due to a string of unmitigated successes Iseppo has, in fact, come over to you. you've pretty much got his attention for a while, and a boost to his Disposition. you're in a big crowd so you can't just go HEY WHERE'S THE ARCHITECT AT, but you can use this opportunity to ingratiate yourself and to try and suss out his Personality. someone with good Scrutiny would be useful here!! remember you got commbeads, too eadian, and only eadian: only Eadian should be reading thisiseppo's limp is being put on, his shaking is a sham, and his cane's thick and heavy enough that it probably conceals a rapier. everyone else here's probably discreetly armed as well, but not many actively hide the fact. the fact that he's representing himself as something he's not may or may not influence how you approach him.
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Mar 25, 2016 00:40
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Dubitation The Rookery Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=34Zts1OmN8M "The, ah, one in the swan wings, you say?" Drug-producing machine tucked under one arm, Ignatius begins the charm offensive almost immediately. By introducing Eadian by his full name - pausing for breath in the middle - and himself by just his given, the voidborn sets up an implicit unequal power dynamic right from the get go. Which he then mercilessly exploits - Iseppo, no stranger to being schmoozed, is verbally batted back and forth between the two nobles with a remarkable deftness, his genteel evasions giving away more information than the questions he attempts to deflect. Yes, he's vain - no vainer than expected, however. Yes, he sees himself as above the great unwashed masses - he sees the need for them, though. Someone's got to man the fisheries and fill the tithes. He appears to exhibit polite interest but no more in references to money matters - he's never known pecuniary want, after all, so how can he have a reference for this. Iseppo does perk up slightly at the idea of a proper hardened gambler at the tables, although it's uncertain as to whether this is due to expecting a challenge or due to expecting a desperate risktaker who'll be knocked out in the first few rounds. He exhibits polite interest again in the women Ignatius points out, but does share an amused eye-roll with Eadian on this topic - despite housing his gambling event in a cathouse-cum-nightclub, he's apparently not so easily distracted by the attendants on hand, trusting instead for the distractions to lend him an edge at the tables. Ultimately, the impression that Ignatius and Eadian come away with is that of a relatively firm, grounded individual, insofar as an inner-circle member of one of the more important planetary dynasties can be considered "grounded". All the usual associations of nobility attach to the man, but not to excess - no crazed greed, no insane lusts, no desire to stamp on the common man any more than strictly necessary. In fact, arguably the strangest thing about the man is how little he seems to want to give away about himself - the Acolytes are fairly certain they've not caught him in any outright lies, but he does try to play down and deflect any particularly blunt probes for information - mostly successfully. Maybe it's just a life spent wheeling and dealing with fortunes greater than any ordinary citizen would ever see - maybe it's an unwillingness to compromise himself for the game tables. The arrival of Gamma, proffering a drinks tray, causes a microscopic social gaffe, invisible to anyone not paying very close attention to the conversation. Once Eadian and Ignatius have taken their glasses - a tall, dignified, voluted affair for Eadian's ale and a squat, globular, "hilariously" crass glass sculpture for Ignatius - it takes a few seconds for Iseppo to realise the remaining (small, tasteful, bowl-like) glass is being proffered in his direction. Gamma can see the subconscious cogs turn - he's meant to be top dog here, and in an environment where to give gifts creates status, someone's cribbing off of his station. Once the Deculon realises who's offering, though, his doubts evaporate. "A top-up? How kind." Gesturing to Lightning behind him, he points and nods - the bodyguard clumsily drops his own beer on the table and takes the proffered glass, Iseppo smiling tolerantly. Lightning proceeds to pour the new drink into Iseppo's current one - the new amasec mixing visibly with the clearly superior vintage already in the glass. Status is, ostentatiously, restored, although Iseppo does eye Gamma curiously for some moments afterwards. Maybe it's the outfit, or maybe he wants his fortune read. Bulworth keeps a weather eye on proceedings, though, and while Gamma may have been too close to the fray to notice certain details, the Arbite sees all. Coming in close to Eadian to grab his previous, empty glass, Bulworth is also informed of a few nuggets of information that shed further light on what he's seen. Aperta activates his monotask servo skull; a burst of binary static from his implants, modulated through his commbead, and the device will enter through a window at his discretion. Whether the window is currently open or not depends on how much of an entrance the techpriest believes is necessary. It's been a fairly successful evening already, and the Acolytes are reasonably certain they've made a favourable impression on Iseppo. It remains to be seen what he thinks of the group, though - presented with a flamboyant attention-seeking display only to be confronted with a curiously evasive and fluid pair of conversational partners, who hang out with one bodyguard between them, a soothsayer and a fairly confused tech-adept, there may be some curious impressions being formed in his mind. As the attendants announce the start of the evening's gambling, it may well be soon for everyone to lay their cards on the table, in more ways than one. ---- scru-tin-ize! scru-tin-ize! basically, ignatius is trying to get information out of iseppo without looking like an absolute mental case. inquiry is a skill more about asking lots of people things, following up leads, etc. - therefore, i want to say this is more of a Charm test. more to the point, because it's an attempt to charm something out of iseppo - i.e. information - it will be an Opposed charm test, against his Willpower. nobles, while socially adept, are not normally paragons of self-control. ignatius continues a string of great rolls with a 20, which iseppo counters neatly with a 13. if this was straight opposition against human baseline stats, Iseppo'd be the victor and might react badly, but due to reasons of either circumstance, temperament, hilariously low Willpower, or some combination of the above, Ignatius is the winner by 3DoS, bumped up to 4DoS by the implied aid of Eadian. eadian, apparently forgetting his commbead, conveys his Secret Observations to bulworth. DeathSandwich, you can view and act on the information under the spoilers in the previous post. again, it's trivial to go "hey guys he's a (spoiler)disguised Bloodthirster(/spoiler)" into your commbead and let everyone else know, but please don't refer in plaintext to stuff that all characters do not know gamma tries to get a read on Iseppo, and - gamma only - fails with a roll of 69, dudes. you are only left with his reaction as contextual clues; or fate point it if you want, if you reckon it's important enough. aperta kicks off the servo skull plan. i am assuming you want this to happen at a time roughly coincidental with all the guards getting the shits, rather than an hour beforehand to make your distraction entirely worthless, but shout if for some reason you want this to kick off early. bulworth glances. his scrutiny check - Bulworth only - succeeds with 1DoS, enabling you to realise that he's Furtive. this is a personality type and does not necessarily mean he's hiding something specific. although he may be. iseppo's also noticed Gamma's Scrutiny attempt, which will not have knocked off any disposition due to failing, but is unaware of your own - ignore that last roll, i forgot that ignatius and eadian weren't actually scrutinizing also re: the bodyguard eyeing you - Bulworth only again - he's just some rear end in a top hat that'll be dealt with once the gripes hit. your Toughness test was the thing you did to get rid of him. however, Thunder still shows no signs of drinking from his tainted glass, and he's not as bumbling as he seems - both Iseppo's bodyguards reacted subtly, quickly, and effectively to Gamma's approach, taking up postures that appear just shy of insolence yet providing great coverage of the room, easy access to weapons, and easy reach to Iseppo see recruitment thread for next steps!! Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 18:37 on Apr 10, 2016 |
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Apr 5, 2016 22:48
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Prestidigitation The Rookery Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eNQI_SArHxw  Sea-themed playing cards. Realistically, what else were the Acolytes expecting? Iseppo had drifted off shortly after politely wrapping up his short, odd conversation with his off-world guests, leaving the Acolytes to mill around aimlessly until the gong sounded to summon the partying throng upstairs. Throwing back drinks, and performing a few final preparations, the Acolytes filtered upstairs, Bulworth joining them after a short, painful delay. ---- It's kind of crowded up on the top floor. The repurposed banqueting room is rich with gilt and velvet curtains, high-ceilinged and candleabra'd, and crammed with expansive ring-shaped gaming tables and sumptuous recliners - it's clearly set up for spectacle. The actual gamers at a given table take a space on the recliners, while their entourage throngs behind - a mixed pair of attendants occupy the centre of each table, attending to the needs of the game - dealing cards, raking chips, keeping tallies, brokering deals. Mahogany ladders lead up to narrow catwalks that wend and centre on the stage at the far eastern side of the room, necessitating an acrobatic display for any entrance or egress, and providing patrons with an unparalleled, distracting view from below any time new dealers are called. Pneumatic messaging tubes lead down into the centre of the ring-shaped tables, as notes zip to and from each dealer's cubbyhole. Security staff line the walls, and waiting staff wind expertly through the crowds with overburdened trays, converging on dumbwaiters like packs of starving jackals. Iseppo perches awkwardly on a high-backed chair on the table closest to the stage, a concession to his stiffened joints. Surrounding him is, presumably, his inner circle - talented players, but ready to be jovially booted out once a suitable mark or challenger makes their way up from the lower ranks. The game is a curious one - a eclectic hybrid of an archaic pre-Dark Age game known as Prod or something, and of fast-paced negotiation reminiscent of a trading floor. It's a weird mix, but a peculiarly flexible one that's apparently stood the test of time on Ourybia. Those not in it for the money, or those unfamiliar with the rules, can enjoy a slower-paced, more discussion-based game, where the strength of one's bargaining position is enhanced by the power of ones' hand - as experience is gained and the gaming becomes more serious, it soon evolves into quite the opposite, where a weak hand can nevertheless be an overwhelming force when controlled by a player with a strong handle on the negotiations at play, and with a firm understanding of just how the other players will react. Rounds are often over and done with in a matter of minutes, with frequent breaks for refreshment - it can get quite stressful, although aficionados will speak at length of the exhilaration felt when things fall into place and you're able to lock out half the table from their stake in a single swoop. A harrassed-looking clerk hammers away at a cogitator terminal near the western wall, frenetically annointing the main stack from a bottle of oil, keeping track of player positions and expenditures, and noting any particularly impressive losses or gains. The Maître D' works nearby, arranging the crowd and players to his satisfaction - it's a fine balancing act, as by giving his patrons what he wants he maximises their expenditure. Eadian is ensconced in a gambler's couch on one of the starter tables by the attendants, his entourage behind him mingling and discussing the game. It's been made politely yet abundantly clear that discussion of what a given player has in their hand will result in ejection from the premises, and patrons affiliated with a player are discouraged from wandering away from that player's couch, but it's not a hard and fast rule - just a move that'll draw a few frowns and tuts. The Acolytes only have an hour in which to get as high up in the rankings as possible, and so Eadian demolishes the competition at the initial tables as politely as he possibly can. No-one bears him any ill will for this - it's simply a matter of how hard one wants to play, and it seems the off-worlder wants to engage in slightly harder ball than the casual players are willing to put up with. The Acolytes are moved up to the first serious table within a matter of minutes, at the first available break, and are plonked down next to a wizened old woman flanked by Adonis-like bodyguards, a small clutch of cocky, flinty young rakes, three sets of well-coiffed partners that the group mentally file under "generic noble", and a pair of middle-aged, soberly-dressed gentlemen in full facemasks. It's now that things become a little more... heated. --- gamble you've got time to do like ten minutes' worth of stuff before the gamblin' starts, which may include more prodding at iseppo, prodding at the crowd, proposing a toast with Thunder who still ain't drunk his toxic brew, etc. turns out i mixed up which guard hadn't drunk and falsely reported Lightning last time - not like it matters, they're identical, but it's thunder who'll still be kicking around once you start asking iseppo things. so you get to play a weird hybrid of Poker and Azad essentially it's a game of influence, and iseppo's the puppetmaster. the dealer and central coordinator pair both have a surprising amount of influence if they're cunning, which all the dealers here are. so yeah i don't wanna spend very long gambling tbh so everything's getting amalgamated into one roll vs a target number of DoS's. gimme a skill roll for something appropriate. logic will allow you to gamble properly; awareness will protect against card sharps; charm or other social skills will probably have an impact on the dealer, but will be hampered by the fact that you can't really talk to them; anything else i like the sound of will also be good. sleight of hand helps you cheat, no-one has it or is any good at it. aperta: an irritating electrostatic buzz behind your right ear-replacement indicates that the top floor's networked. the clerk's computer is likely on the network, as are the microdot security cams embedded in the ceiling that you can feel broadcasting. there's a jack on the north wall you can probably subtly interface with, but there's a security guard standing right in front of it - you're gonna need to convince him to move. he probably doesn't know exactly what's right behind him but he will be unwilling to budge from his spot unnecessarily - if you don't feel like socialling him with your spergwords, maybe enlist one of the other acolytes to do so. gamma - when eadian moved up a couple of tables initially, you're pretty sure you caught Iseppo glancing over. he's probably had you deliberately placed on the lower tables to see how your group's willing to play. if you feel like being risky, Warp Perception will be able to tell you whether other players believe they have good hands or not, via heart-rate and perspiration. if one of the other players fucks up a roll really badly you can use your pocketed distraction to divert attention from it and allow a reroll, but it's up to you whether you share that with the others now or if you want to save it for later, because it might be useful later. an example of appropriate scale would be a free, guaranteed successful use of Control Flame to make a candelabra crash to the ground, or something. i've also still not added your +5 to your next roll from the intra-party investigation so just use that when you want.. everyone else - play to your strengths, really. ways to encourage advancement are: beat the other players, get the other players removed, spy on the other players without loving up and report back to eadian, persuade the dealers to favour you, persuade the maitre d that you've had a big win on your table, persuade iseppo that something cool's just happened, that sort of thing. shout if uncertain. you've got a target to hit. you miss it badly, you lose influence and issepo-disposition - party decides who eats the hit. you miss it barely, you lose iseppo-disposition. you hit it, you gain iseppo-disposition. you hit it easily, you gain influence and iseppo-disposition - party decides who gets the bonus Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 20:05 on Apr 10, 2016 |
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Apr 10, 2016 20:02
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yeah, party can read Bulworth spoilers and act on them
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Apr 13, 2016 20:06
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Prestidigitation, cont. The Rookery Port Remonstrance  Ignatius takes a casual stroll past the the guard by the northern dataport, pausing to compliment the apparent leader of a small group, dressed as a swan and cygnets, on a particularly daring play. Keeping up the polite conversation is fairly trivial, and turning towards each anatidaen face in turn gives ample opportunity to scope out the unluckily-situated security agent. He is, as Aperta reports, bald and bearded. Tanned skin, wiry muscles, standard short-sleeved black outfit as worn by the other venue guards. Minor gang tattoos visible peeking out from under clothing. Currently looking a bit uncomfortable at times, as the internal pressure builds from the tainted seltzer - he'll doubtless join the general exodus in about an hour's time, although that'll be too late for Aperta to perform any useful network magic. He is, pretty much, just one of the house muscle - professional, skilled, but not in command. From a glance at the other guards lining the walls, it seems this guy's just standing here by chance - everyone's evenly spaced out. It's not like he's tied to his post, either, as other guards occasionally drift off to attend to particular issues or errands, returning shortly. It would probably be fairly trivial to get him to wander off for a short while if he's given a suitable excuse. The obvious way to get him to move would be to give him something to do. --- yeah, just a guard standing there - not rolling for that, there's no deception at play and no gameplay reason to give you a chance to fail. deceive him, charm him, intimidate him, stab a waiter, whatever - talk to the maitre d', get him to call the guard over maybe. hell, pretend to be drunk and ask for directions. doing whatever to this guy will, regardless of pass or fail, allow Aperta access to the port - you just need to get him to step away for a second, after which aperta can - narratively stealthily - plug in and then settle down going "omm" or something. it will be assumed that aperta's communing with the machine spirits by people and the guard will be too polite to shift along a mechanicus for pretty much no reason. gamewise, this is to allow your roll and aperta's roll to stand or fail separately, because i'm only wanting one skill roll from each of you to compound into the party result. deathsandwich - if Awareness is the skill you're picking, it'll be a skill roll to contribute to the group result, and potentially other unrelated ones depending on emergent events. specifically watching the crowd for weridness, outside of the group result, will be Scrutiny Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 20:26 on Apr 24, 2016 |
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Apr 19, 2016 17:55
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Cachinnation The Rookery Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=quxTnEEETbo  Ignatius' chosen new buddy looks a little alarmed to have a spindly off-world noble come suddenly lurching towards him, and his arm freezes briefly in a way that suggests he has mastered an impulse to go for his weapon. Resigning himself to playing nursemaid for the moment, the guard allows himself to be bundled into the service elevator down to the ground floor - apart from anything else, it gets Ignatius away from any chance at disrupting the game and closer to the doors if he needs to be thrown out. Besides, although drat near anything's available on tap from the attendants, some people don't like paying the markup and resort to other sources. Any unauthorised drug deals on Thorn turf need to be rooted out, so that security can get their cut. Hijinks ensue - steered expertly through the crowd, the guard's resistance is broken down by brayed greeting after brayed greeting as Ignatius shifts his stance subtly and works the room under the guise of looking for his medical friend. Eventually, and much to the guard's frustration, Ignatius leads him to an official Thorn chemist-attendant, who, for a handful of notes, hands over a small vial of luridly-coloured placebos. Wanting to get back to his post, the guard necks a couple, not realising in his haste that the hand from which Ignatius has shaken out the pills is not the one in which he took the vial. A few minutes later, the guard is ensconced in a bathroom stall, and extremely unlikely to care about getting back to his post for the next couple of hours. He can probably think of this as getting in to beat the rush. Aperta, circumnavigating the room in ornate and ostentatious robes, draws a few glances as he makes his way forward. A few of the throng attempt to talk to him, but by the tried and tested method of avoiding eye contact and keeping the hood down, he shuffles on through with minimal interruption. Porting into the building network causes his left leg to buckle momentarily as poorly-optimised networking spirits cause him to thrash and spasm - locking his servos in place and modulating the binary wave through Cogitatio seems to deal with that, though. The spirits chatter and yammer through him like overly enthusiastic hunting dogs, if hunting dogs existed in the noosphere - they're vigilant, but it's been a while since they've had anything other than a cogitator to interface with. After a few false starts, in which the spirits seem confused by Aperta's insistence on referring to the Gilded Thorn as the Gilded Rose, the activation rites engage and the tech-priest gains root access with very little fanfare. It is as if two-score additional eyes have suddenly opened up, as the techpriest's sense of self suddenly swells to encompass the entire building. It would appear that the Thorn rejoices in a surprisingly comprehensive sensor suite, which appears to have been repurposed from an orbital fighter. Not cheap, not common, but effective, unobtrusive, high-resolution, and surprisingly easy for Aperta to interface with. The problem is keeping on top of the morass of data currently routing through his enhanced mind - in a subjective minute or two, the techpriest's probably going to have to dump input from some of these cameras, especially if he wants to ensure that he doesn't appear obnoxious to anyone already monitoring the system... Bulworth shares his info with the rest of the cell, but, possibly due to his recent gastrointestinal maelstrom, finds it hard to concentrate on monitoring the crowd. Faces swim in and out of focus, and, worse, he's worried that his facial expressions on viewing Eadian's cards are passing information to the other players... ---- ignatius continues with a string of depressingly good rolls by getting 10 vs a target of 40 on his Deceive test to portray himself as a drunken noble. it's a decent plan to shift the guard quietly but they are pretty much used to dealing with drunk nobles gracefully, so it's only a +0 test. regardless, that's 4DoS contributed to the party total (1 for passing, 3 for difference in tens digits between 40 and 10). aperta jacks into cyberspace. 17 vs Tech-Use 60 means a frankly disgraceful 6DoS. you can handle any two out of game room cameras, downstairs cameras, bedroom cameras, front-of-house cameras (i.e. street, access corridor), and rear-of-house cameras (i.e. kitchen, rear route round to the boat park). you can also sacrifice DoS to monitor additional cameras - 1DoS equals one additional set, this represents dedicating less attention to the game. i make no promises on whether this will be worth it or useful, but the option is there. bulworth gets 3DoF on his perceptiony-type roll for the team challenge; this doesn't mean you've failed any awareness checks that come up during play though. they will be handled separately. this can be fate-pointed if desired, or you can just let it stand because the others have some pretty good rolls. gamma, eadian, get some fuckin' actions in by weds 27th - even if they're just italics text saying what you want to roll - otherwise you default to 2DoF
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Apr 24, 2016 21:31
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Elimination The Rookery Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nzpnWuk3RjU Gameplay continues. Eadian's natural ability for manipulation, coupled with the near-perfect knowledge of his opponent's cards funneled into his ear by Aperta, means his opponents have slim hope of victory. Not that it would be wise to be overt about this - the techpriest appears to be chanting and hissing in binary to any nearby onlookers, and only one equally fluent in the holy binary cant would realise that he's instructing Cognatio to feed back a translation into his commbead link. Similarly, Eadian is deliberately not winning every hand, but rather going out of his way to appear effortless and breezy while simultaneously managing to sweep aside any attempt at a coordinated assault against him. By the end of the round it's patently obvious that he's the superior of the rest of his table, and the Acolytes are discreetly moved up to the next. The same happens again, and again, as Ignatius drifts back upstairs, guard-friend conspicuously absent. On the fourth table, however, things get a little hairy - Eadian's up against seasoned, hardened players by this point, and there's a few angry murmurs as the Strategos fails to handle his crowd effectively and pulls in a much larger jackpot than he actually intended to. In an effort to defuse the situation and to focus attention on his arrogance rather than his apparent supernatural abilities at reading cards backwards, Eadian installs Gamma at the couch for the next few hands, and swans off, Bulworth in tow, to do the rounds of the other noble entourages. This has the happy side-effect of preventing the Arbite from telegraphing any more hands. Blinking in the flinty stares of professional gamblers, the psyker smiles nervously and fidgets, attempting to remember the rules. She may be receiving a string of technical information from Aperta in her ear, but she doesn't quite know what to do with it all. Initial assaults on her are tiny, inquisitive affairs - she is mostly ignored by the other players at the table, who focus on regaining ground lost to Eadian from each other, and the psyker is content to hold her position like this. Eventually a pair of front-runners emerge - a curiously-heavily muscled and tattooed ex-PDF captain and an off-world chartist merchant hailing from a hive world several sectors over. They begin a ruthless all-out assault on Gamma's holdings, stripping a sizeable chunk of fortune from her. In desperation, she invokes her inner third eye and attempts to include the whole of her gaming table into her enhanced senses. Muttering and clutching at charms is not uncommon in a gambling hall, and it draws no particular attention. The room does waver for a second, and she does get a curious nagging sensation - as if she has lost the memory of everyone within the room losing a trivial memory themselves. However, the momentary itch passes, and suddenly she sees the world anew. Gamma may not know exactly what to do in her situation, but by judging heartbeats, tasting perspiration, now she knows what the other players think she should do, and what they hope she will not. Through adroit manipulation and subliminal influence, Gamma manages to win back her losses and then some, seemingly entirely by accident. Accusing stares stab from player to player, as the rest of her table attempts to figure out who could have been so stupid as to allow this. Aperta clicks and whirrs, monitoring the situation, but focusing on no cameras other than the ones in the gaming room. He may be able to leave Cogitatio plugged into this port if he wants to wander around freely, and the skull should be able to wirelessly transmit the feed through their personal noosphere. He's still going to have to make a decision on where to focus his monitoring, though. In the meantime, using spare moments between hands, he begins to draw up a mental map of the building by flicking from camera to camera and gauging room size. ---- Destabilisation The Rookery Port Remonstrance The guards are looking distinctly queasy - around half of them have deserted their posts already, and the rest appear to be minutes from doing so. Eadian by this point is on Iseppo's table, having displaced a particularly servile crony, and, all smiles, the two of them have silently arranged to genteelly flense a pair of particularly chubby fleet-owners of their assets. After a swift whispered conference, the Acolytes agree to put their plan to sequester Iseppo into action. Aperta sends his signal, and the group waits. Gameplay continues for a minute or two, before, with an earsplitting CRASH, an ornate, stained window set high in the southern, street-facing wall is reduced to sparkling shards of glass. Shortly afterwards, a second window shatters and rains down a jagged storm on the noble crowd below, as a loud and ostentatious laudhailer servo skull smashes its way into the building.  ##URGENT MESSAGE FOR RECIPIENT [[ERROR]] FROM PLANETARY GOVERNOR SUPERANCIO## ##URGENT MESSAGE FOR RECIPIENT [[ERROR]] FROM PLANETARY GOVERNOR SUPERANCIO## The general bedlam of the skull's arrival, the confusion caused by its uncertain message, and the apparent disappearance of the entire security staff who could otherwise be looked upon to provide some order to this drunken mob all contribute to a near-riot. A packed, sweltering, noisy room, full of drunks and gambling tables. Sweat coalesces off the velvet drapes as swan masks are trampled and exotic pets tripped over as nobles throng and press to try and get closer to the skull, all certain that its cargo of information is for them alone. Personal bodyguards shove and ram, wholly occupied with keeping their charges safe, as other, more opportunistic individuals look to harvest unattended stacks of chips, or to ostentatiously and heroically prevent others from doing so. In Eurybia's curious world of prestige and obligation, the two activities amount pretty much end up with the same outcome. By this point the acolytes are so chummy with Iseppo that they barely have to persuade him to get up from the gaming table and share a bottle of something iced and ancient in an adjoining room until all the hubbub dies down. Which looks like it will take some time. Winnings are gathered, packed up into carrying cases, and secured; soon, the cell are comfortably ensconced in deep armchairs in a roomy, curtained, private meeting area with Iseppo and Lightning. An old-fashioned bellpull summons cigars, after which the attendant dutifully leaves, closing the door behind her, heels clacking obviously on the marble corridor floor. "So.", the Deculon exhales, face twisted into a wry smile. "What can I do for you?" ----- so the warp in this post is represented by the unusual jazzy time signature. gamma rolls a majestic 88 on her initial warp perception attempt, following it up with a much more respectable 8 on the fatepoint reroll. possible khornate tendancies?? must investigate. so yeah that's like 6DoS added to the party total - there is no reason for gamma to attempt the roll at anything other than psy rating 1, because everyone she wants to sense is within 1 x 10m. therefore, she gets +10 to the roll for going 1 psy rating under her actual psy rating. hurrah. bulworth fatepoints his 3DoF into 2DoF eadian... well, i guess it's Inquiry, if you're looking to subtly get a feel for how the players in the room tend to work? for which you get a 24, giving 3DoS - 1 from passing test, 1 from difference in 10s digit, 1 from Peer: Nobility. if you need help with in-character stuff then post in the recruitment thread, if you're confused on rules things then post in the recruitment thread, and if you need more time to make gamethread posts then post in the recruitment thread. otherwise you'll end up effectively sidelined, which is not ideal. aperta gets floor schematics for the building. these will be revealed if and when they are necessary. if you're hungering for more interparty action, gamma may or may not be pissed off at eadian for effectively being left in the lurch - yes, it was necessary for the cell's task, but it could also be construed as a bit of a dick move. bulworth may or may not be sympathetic. i dunno. make up your own stuff. bulworth - during the game you've noticed some pained chatter among the guards, and a higher proportion of them moving to the front-of-house section of the building than you'd expect under the circumstances. as far as you're aware, there's no bathrooms there. maybe something's going on out front, or maybe they're all piling out to the nearest public latrine so basically you guys got an incredibly disgusting 17DoS on the party challenge. rounding up, this translates to a huge Disposition bonus and a bonus 4 influence points to one member of the party. that's actually a pretty huge amount, and represents the large amount of specie and favours you have accumulated. iseppo has a very very high Disposition. you probably don't need to schmooze him further but can just get to brass tacks. his bodyguard's here but as Iseppo will not object to talking business at this point, this is not a cause for concern. you cannot use commbeads for intraparty communication in here. this isn't a party, it's a quiet, close conversation in a room, and commbead subvocalisation will be really obvious. the randomly-chosen meeting room is on the second floor. you've got the northern, long wall of the gambling room - there's a door off it, which leads to a corridor that runs parallel to the gambling room. this corridor is lined with soundproofed rooms. you are alone and not eavesdropped on, although bugs may need to be swept for if you're super-paranoid. there's a window, but it's a drop of like six metres to the boardwalk below, and you might go right through it. out back of the building is the boat park. diagram can be created on request.
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Apr 27, 2016 22:34
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crosspost from recruitment thread - who what now, in lieu of a comment along the lines of "i am monitoring these particular cameras - X and Y" in your next post, i'm gonna assume aperta dedicated all his attention to mapping and the card game. this will bump you up another 2DoS, taking the final influence bonus to 5. kool-aid servo skull was aperta's distraction to get the noble crowd out the way. presumably it smashed both windows, it's careening around a lot. Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 22:01 on Apr 28, 2016 |
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Apr 28, 2016 18:06
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Fomentation The Rookery Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I2lgy4_Quko "Aperta" Fuckin' Mechanicus. "Aperta!" One of the problems with devoting yourself to the Machine-God and replacing your mouth with a filtration grill, of course, is that you end up putting less of an emphasis on the importance of lips. Specifically, reading the loving things. The Acolytes are processing slowly and sedately to the side room, but unfortunately the tech-priest is wrapped up entirely in parsing the incoming datastream from his skull - he is monitoring the riotous bedlam in the gaming hall to ensure it shows no sign of abating, and appears completely oblivious to any attempt at subtle communication. Rapping on the side of his casing with clenched knuckles might rouse him, but would probably come across as rather a faux pas, if not outright lèse machiné. Catching the machine-man's gaze is by this point impossible without capering madly in front of him, so the Arbite falls back on old habits and attempts to collar him for a quiet word. Amazingly, either Iseppo or his bodyguard manage to turn to glance at the Arbite by chance every single time he approaches, and a single raised eyebrow from the Deculon noble is enough to make him back off. Cursing inwardly, Bulworth takes up station ostentatiously outside of the private room's door, giving off a general bouncer-ish vibe in an attempt to ensure privacy. He flashes some stern eyebrow movements in the direction of Thunder or Lightning or whichever bodyguard hasn't sloped off to the nearest latrine in an attempt to make the guy join him momentarily, hoping to maybe quietly get word to him - perhaps it's the steel in the Arbite's eyes, or the fact that Thunder doesn't rate the remaining members of the party as a threat, but to Bulworth's masked surprise the bodyguard actually takes up station on the other side of the doorway as it clicks shut behind Iseppo and the rest of the Acolytes. Thunder frowns slightly at the news that the house guards have headed out front. After a whispered discussion, the pair of them head back towards the gambling hall - Bulworth hanging back briefly to get comms across to the rest of the cell. The Arbite and the bodyguard skirt the edges of the gaming room's fray, noting the incongruous lump of rockcrete lying in the middle of an abandoned gambling table, and boost themselves up into the high window frames in an effort to see what's going on in the street outside... ----- Iseppo's face is a picture during Ignatius' monologue. It runs the gamut of emotions from weary amusement at the initial tinges of sales pitch, indignant affront at the idea of being "evaluated", disgust at the well-trodden ground of "this isn't like the others", through to astonishment when it transpires that this actually isn't like the others. And, of course, the frown at the "seamen" line. The external signs aren't all that obvious, but whether warp-infused or specially trained, the Acolytes can read him like a book. He does not, in fact, have a great deal to say during the spiel. In fact, he holds himself very still, and, insofar as the Acolytes can judge, appears to be either considering the whole overview or completing a jigsaw puzzle in his head. As Ignatius finishes, the Deculon rises totteringly to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane, and stumps over to the heavily-draped windows to toy fitfully with the velvety ties and sip his mixture of superior and inferior amasec vintages. He hasn't discarded it, even in private company - nor, it seems, has he finished it. "Interesting", he murmurs. Altogether, he has not contributed a great deal to the conversation - it's patently obvious that he's furiously thinking things through. After an interval of a minute or so, he turns, smiling. "So. I can only assume that within a few days, my counterparts in the Hepaticons and Corazons will be entertaining similar delegations. But you fellows appear to have stolen a march. My question to you is quite simple - why?" A pause for a sip, and the absence of a grimace. "What draws you to the Deculon family in particular, ahead of the competition?" The maimed man continues, seemingly unfazed by the requirement of keeping negotiations secret from the Planetary Governor. On some planets, this could in itself be considered treason. On this one, things are either more relaxed, or Iseppo just doesn't care. "A location will be... troublesome. Certainly, we will have land become available after the... Fleet... leaves, once the... holding facilities... are no longer required. Waterfront property will, however, be difficult. The best bet would likely be to create space - we have the dredging capability, although diverting the haulers from their routes will take many months." Evidently thinking aloud by this point, Iseppo taps his cane. "Depending on, ah, funding considerations, we could easily repurpose an orbital lifter for this purpose." Discussions continue... ---- Bulworth peers out through shattered glass into the night, as Thunder does the same from the next window. Aperta eyes the mob inside, while also scattering vidfeed resources around the lower floor and outside in an attempt to scrape together as much context as possible. Altogether, it's a bit of a concerning picture. Fops. Rakes. More nobles. There's a crowd. Richly-dressed, casually armed like many of the attendees already at the party. There's maybe twenty, thirty. It seems they'd like to come in, please, if it's not too much trouble. From this distance, they seem drunk, or drugged, or both. Several of them scratch awkwardly and compulsively at arms, ears, noses, while others abruptly snap their heads up, gaze around as if in surprise, before falling back into a lull. The handful of the security staff not doubled over in the latrines with intestinal cramps are outside attempting to keep the peace. No weapons are drawn, but there's a lot of raised voices, placatory gestures, and bottles being jeeringly hurled against walls. Looks like the culprits for smashing that first window have been found. Bulworth has no idea how to distinguish particular nobles, but Thunder swears in the clipped, staccato fashion that the Arbite is vaguely aware comes from the isolated islands away from the main equatorial strip of archipelagos. "Hepaticons", he spits. ---- i may be totally mad but i could have sworn there was some big chunk of rules for communicating without a common language that i thought i could adapt for lip-reading, but ah well. so we wing it with an array of loosely-related tests, mostly for entertainment purposes - bulworth initially makes a fellowship roll, DoF/S on which translate to a bonus/malus to Aperta's INT test. that's a solid 92 for 7DoF, which under the rules for critical failure means you have spat a deadly insult at aperta. roll for initiative. lipreading is out, so we move onto trying a quiet word. i will assume this is a +40 Stealth test - less subtle than "literally undetectable" word-mouthing, but also far, far easier. thankfully, bulworth knocks it out of the park with a stunning 84, snatching failure from the jaws of victory, and is unable to grab aperta's attention without alerting iseppo/bodyguard. so he doesn't try. should another character be able to assist in this by providing a distraction, it will translate to a success and you'll get another few cameras online at the front of house - however to do this, gamma would need to drop Warp Perception to get the necessary actions, and ignatius would need to pause in his monologue. aperta cannot assist in a test against himself in this way. it's all a bit moot, anyway, because i'm just working through this as a rules exercise - bulworth's staying outside anyway and can just comms in his observations and requests to "please consider looking at the front of house, idiot". does mean that you maybe miss a couple of minutes of what's going on outside, but you can judge how important that was. hint - not important enough to spend fate points on. so anyway, we finish with an untrained Command test to try and get a bodyguard to do the exact opposite of his job description - realistically, you can't command people you don't have authority over, but this has connotations of "do your job drat you" so i'm gonna skin it as that. it doesn't matter anyway because bulworth has to get 10 or less, and the chances of him getting for example a 06 are on the low side. wait gently caress ---- conversation: well, i mean, that's pretty much a plan on a plate. deceive +30 for circumstances, which is an indeterminate number of DoS with a roll of 62. at this point you've done so much groundwork that we're not going to engage in CONTRACT NEGOTIATION 40K: HERESY AND NOVATION IN THE FAR FAR FUTURE, so the questions and stuff that iseppo will pose in the next update are actually means of funnelling you information and plot hooks. i don't really need them to be addressed lowering an orbital craft into the shallows to create land is a hefty investment. gamma: iseppo's heart rate shot up once Ignatius mentioned "black fleet" and "superiors", but started calming down again once it became apparent that this was a building project. he spasms again each time the fleet's mentioned. he's not psychic himself - you'd be able to tell, partly due to psyniscience, partly due to altered perception, partly because he's not throwing thunderbolts at you and shrieking WITCH WITCH. however, he does appear to be privately dreading the arrival of the fleet. he's presumably stayed quiet a lot partly to avoid revealing information during what is essentially the early stages of a negotiation, and partly to frantically figure stuff out. aperta: camera feed from the front of the building is grainy. this is not a real spoiler. it's just to throw other players off. you know, from the fact that you are secretly a heretek about to kill everyone!! that's everyone!!! even the person reading this who shouldn't be!!!! it's time for west side story. or possibly wet side story.
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May 4, 2016 23:09
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Fomentation, cont. The Rookery Port Remonstrance Discussions continue. Iseppo works through high-level planning aloud, attempting to wrangle his own agenda into the process. Chief among his concerns is that, as newly appointed de-facto overseers of part of the planet's tithe, he'd like to see the noble classes - men of quality - take a more direct responsibility for assessing and administrating the tribute. Clearly not replacing the Adeptus Ministorum, no no. Simply providing more support - acting as first line of interface for the nutrient shipments, the supply of graduating naval cadets, and, ah, they would hardly be able to shirk their share of the responsibility for handling the psyker round-up. In terms of training regimens - what would the Navy be looking for? As things stand now, the Deculons can easily lay hands on vessels from tugboats to dredgers, and were the Navy after an engineering corps, training could start tomorrow. However, the larger gun vessels remain in control of the PDF, and any variance of this would necessitate formal revision of the planetary governor's mandate to rule, presumably by higher-ranking representatives of the Imperium. Of course, should this occur, the Deculons would be proud to turn out trainees on whatever size and armament of vessel the Navy deems appropriate. While the ships available on Ourybia are tough and universal - vehicles designed along the same venerable principles as embodied in the Leman Russ or Chimera fighting vehicles - the lack of specialist expertise on-planet means that the swifter, more technologically advanced ship patterns found throughout the Imperium - ones based not on universal-fuel arc furnace engines but on long-range, speedier plasma batteries - are unavailable for use, which could form a critical flaw in the training of the touted academy. If the in-system forge-world of Criunix could be persuaded to settle a larger delegation and to step up trade in technological goods and services, then plasma-battery ships of the line and submersibles could easily form part of the curriculum. --- Evacuation The Rookery Port Remonstrance As discussions wrap up, Bulworth's comms message about possibly getting out of the club now chirps in everyone's ears... Thunder grunts warily at the Arbite as they push through the crowded upstairs gaming room, flexing wiry hands and glancing around. "Nuh. Came by watertaxi. Boss said f'him to come back later. Taxi ain't waitin'." The noble's bodyguard skirts a small group of fiercely arguing, shoving nobles. "Hepaticons ain't in the habit of picking direct fights. Fam'lies have been jumpy lately, though. They're prob'ly gonna come up and posture a lot. Shove people around, slap a few faces, get some duels scheduled for next week maybe next. "Sure as hell ain't my scene though. Gonna see what the boss says." Bulworth, prepping his impromptu molotov, has lost eyes on the scene outside. Aperta remains monitoring the situation, albeit without aural pickup. --- ding eadian: iseppo is throwing forward the "we want to control the tithe" as a fairly transparent "we want more power and influence" play. however it seems he doesn't actually care too much about the agri-shipments and the naval graduates - what seems important to him is gaining control of the psyker tithe gamma: iseppo doesn't care much about control of the non-psyker parts of the tithe. Telepathic Link is, incidentally, only a half-action, so although you can't commbead you can still mind-talk to people in the room if you really wanted to ignatius: re: shiptypes, it's a fairly blatant power grab away from the planetary governor - "let the nobles have great big armed dreadnaughts" obviously makes 'em more important. however, iseppo doesn't really care about the power for its own sake - he does, however, seem to genuinely care about getting easier access to the speedier longer-ranged engines and the submersibles aperta: well, no-one's dead outside, but there's a lot of open mouths and pointed gesturing. you've seen a couple of the group of nobles walk a few steps away, as if puzzled, before snapping back and joining the throng outside again. the rest of them appear much as they did earlier, i.e. drunk, vacant, and a bit confused, but they're crowded round the door now rather than just hanging around the street outside Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 22:33 on May 12, 2016 |
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May 12, 2016 22:20
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Evacuation, cont. The Rookery Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lxbfshg2mcI Discussions... continue. Ignatius mostly manages to fend off Iseppo's probes and negotiation tactics, aided by the occasional murmured interjection by Eadian. A few pearls of information are forthcoming from the Deculon: "Staff, you say?" waving a languous hand. "Certainly, Borsia's team have just completed survey of the inland canal system, and Cisneros has been chewing my ear off, desperate for something suitably complex to spend her talents on. Clerks, we've got them by the score. Naturally, it's so hard to retain skilled professionals these days, as I'm sure you're aware real estate development can be rather a cut-throat business, but I shall make a mental note to arrange with their security details for you to meet them." In the midst of this, the team receive the news that unrest gathers outside of the Gilded Thorn, but it is only as Lightning wrenches open the door to the private room, Bulworth in tow, that they are informed of its nature. Aperta may have guessed that the potential interlopers are more richly dressed than the average street thug could hope to manage, but it is only with the added context of Lightning's information that the right connexions are made as to who exactly they are. "Boss. Mob o' Hepaticons, right outside. No-one's got handsy yet but there's a lotta shoutin' and I gotta say, I don't think we got much time before someone slugs someone. Suggest we get moving. Whaddaya say?" The bodyguard has made no move to loosen weapons in their holsters or to limber up for combat, but he's clearly pretty tense. Iseppo digests this information for a beat or two, and speaks, amasec glass swirling idly in one hand: "Ah, I had been wondering where you'd run off to.". He fixes Ignatius and Eadian with a sly smile as he continues. "Surely the house security will be more than enough to deal with a few sotted Hepaticon idiots, no? And yourself and your brother have done a sterling job of keeping my person safe from the night's depredations? No, no, I rather think we ought to continue our discussions right here. Tell me," - this directed at the Acolytes - "are you quite sure there is such limited enthusiasm for submersibles among your superiors? I would have thought the Navy would feel a certain kinship with them." Lightning looks like he's about to thump the wall, but manages to bite his tongue. "Wh- right, boss. 'Pr's teeth. Gonna go find Thunder. Stay here till we're back." The bodyguard ducks off down the corridor again, out into the scrum of the main gaming room, presumably down to the club floor below. Iseppo, having just had urgency used to goad him on, has with a gambler's flair now turned things around. Perhaps somewhat recklessly, he is using the crowd outside as leverage to make the Acolytes buckle under. If initial negotiations can be done under conditions of stress, Iseppo is confident that his greater experience in this sort of thing - gained at the card table, honed in the boardroom - will help carry the day in his favour. It is a risky, but potentially lucrative gamble... ------ Abomination The Rookery Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QIMlGbv9K9w  ...that has just fallen through, spectacularly. Midway through an otherwise innocuous sentence on plasma engines, a queasy, greasy moment passes. It is Aperta that sees it first - like two badly-spliced snippets of vidfeed, poorly merged together by an apprentice technomat. The crowd outside - at one glance, they are by turns sneering, posturing, and dazed. At the second, they are stricken, staggered, mortified. At the third, they are raging, snarling, bloodied. There is no hint of mercy in the assault; it is a savagery seen only in the most desperate of combat, entirely at odds with the casual, cheerful villainy usually on display in this part of town. The few guards out front are unceremoniously shredded - outright rent limb from limb by hands more used to grasping dice or courtesan than blade or firearm. The screams are audible. Through the hubbub of a Rookery night; through the bedlam downstairs and the chaos upstairs; from the other side of the building entirely, the screams are audible. Blood drips from masks, dresses, ornate waistcoats; smears on shattered doorframes; pools on shaggy, velveteen carpets. Some Hepaticon invaders disperse at this point, pushing around the sides of the building and into the night; the majority begin to force their way up the entrance corridor. Into the heart of the Gilded Thorn, towards the crowded downstairs bars. ----- movin' right along. basically you plopped urgency in front of Iseppo ("take your time" being an obvious, transparent filthy lie), then acted all non-committal and cockteasy. still, with a heftily-bonused deceive roll coming back in the single-digits, it doesn't really matter and he's still totally, utterly hooked. i will assume the deceive roll encompasses "don't visibly react to being told there's a mob outside", so that's fine cisneros has been mentioned. the acolytes have an in. you may, however, need to ensure the guy who's going to arrange your meeting actually survives. you can get stuff done in either of the two scenes above. you can still gently stroke iseppo for info, and you have like two minutes in which to do stuff - ready weapons, communicate, have a quick shifty behind the bar, whatever. your winnings are recorded on the central cogitator bank of this place; short of the building being razed or burnt to the ground, they won't be forgotten. try not to get the place burnt to the ground. your locations are pretty much up to you - you can start the Abomination scene in the discussion room, in the gaming room, or even downstairs if you're feeling particularly suicidal. you can try and do stuff to iseppo to get him to start somewhere else as well. tell me what you want to know, cockstains. i figure a floorplan may be needed shortly, but we ain't in structured time yet. here is a plan of the ground floor. mob's just kicked in the door after beating on some guards, basically. i ain't done the upstairs yet, nor any of the service areas or round the back, this is just for illustration. gamma: you didn't pass the previous psyniscience test for the guys outside, but holy hell did you feel that one just now. one level of fatigue taken. whatever's been linked to the crowd outside has just snapped its connection like a torn tendon - probably fatally if you're any judge. backlash scores across your mind, and you feel the echo of amplified anger, rage, regret and fear. you're getting the overbleed, but whoever it was connected to has probably just had the full force dumped into their cortex. the crowd are probably no longer sane in any meaningful way, and will be liable to Frenzy at pretty much the slightest provocation. there is no point in looking to take prisoners or anything else heroic, but if, later, you want to find out what happened, you should probably try and trace their movements tonight. bulworth: there's a pump-action shotgun under the bar that you found while making your firebomb. not locked up or anything. you can snag it along with your firebomb if you choose but i'll need a +20 Stealth roll if you want to lift it before the screaming starts downstairs. failure just means a guard is all "hey what the hell dude" and takes it from you. lifting it after the screaming starts means you start the second scene explicitly in the game room house guards are gonna start emerging soon; the downstairs crowd is partly armed; the upstairs crowd is partly armed. the one guy who you've got a lead on Cisneros from, is ensconced in the top floor, and he walks with a cane. have fun.
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May 16, 2016 23:20
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Abomination, cont. The Rookery Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oa6q_hffg_w Steam's still rising from the torn remnants pooling in the entrance to the club. High-heeled boot and flimsy plimsoll slip and skitter in the gore as the mob push their way inside the building. Aperta, not one for body language at the best of times, can nevertheless detect a certain set of the jaw and a grinding of the teeth. What must be blood is visible dripping from the mouths of those currently bellowing silently on the vidfeed, from where they have champed and gnashed at their lips and tongue in their agitation. He is not altogether unwilling to detach his skull from the vidfeed. Most of the club-goers aren't in the habit of tapping into security feeds, and what remains of the house security detail haven't yet recovered their wits enough to take action. Once the mob storms the main area, they'll tear into the crowd like a cleaver. Iseppo reddens visibly as Bulworth and Eadian casually refer to his concealed weapon. He draws himself up to respond, but the Arbite is out of the meeting room already before he can get the words out. The noble makes do with some muttered remarks about "decorum" and "place", and appears to be more concerned with the insult than the mob outside. This is probably because he's not actually seen any evidence of it outside of his fretting bodyguards - and bodyguards are paid to fret - and the blood-curdling screams from a few seconds before. And really, what's a night on the town without a few screams? Ignatius manages to talk him down, however. It seems the idea of being left behind in uncertain circumstances holds some traction, and besides, Iseppo's still not certain this isn't some sort of advanced negotiation tactic. He still wants those submersibles, and so, after some dithering, tags along. Ignatius and Eadian emerge from the corridor of private rooms, unwilling to continue talks under such circumstances, as the noble limps behind. Thunder and Lightning are nowhere to be seen, the one presumably still looking for the other downstairs. Bulworth, in the meantime, has skirted the crowd and formed a makeshift sniper's nest up on the balcony overlooking the lower floor. From here he can see most of the goings-on in the club - the crowd upstairs still seem to be fighting and squabbling among themselves, the servo-skull almost forgotten in amidst the general furore, whereas the crowd downstairs simply seem drunk, drugged and desperate. Guns in hand, he motions irritatedly across the gameroom floor to his comrades, so near and yet so far. Aperta's taken up station next to Bulworth behind his barricade. Cogitatio buzzes overhead, barrel of his integrated slugthrower extended and clacking ominously. The Techpriest studies his floorplans briefly before identifying the best route through to the back of the building and relaying it to the rest of the acolytes; he also notes the location of the main staff barracks, and realises that once comms is reestablished by the guards currently holed up in the security room, there'll probably be a bunch more security on hand. It looks like they'd probably come out into the club floor... here. Gamma, weakened as she is, hurries to catch up with her two comrades, club foot dragging behind her. She lurks by the bar area where the shotgun languishes unclaimed. Below the cell, the human wave's about to hit. The Acolytes must act, and act fast.   UPSTAIRS MAP  DOWNSTAIRS MAP ---- welp, welcome to Bataclan 40k so everyone's starting points are on the map. setting this up has not been one round's actions, but the timeframe's been a bit loose as we've been in narrative time so it's cool. apparently ignatius has secretly convinced orokos to roll 1d10s for skill checks or something because i continue to do incredibly good rolls each time he does a skilltest. iseppo is convinced to come along in fairly short order, although he does not appreciate being bluntly called out on his deception with the sword-cane and his disposition has dropped. there's been a bit of a conversation between iseppo, ignatius and eadian so they've only just left the room. aperta, by contrast, has no such luck. he flubs a logic roll, converting it into a Super Success via fate. he has indeed plotted the best route out - it's through the fuckin' service exits, duh. however, whichever service exit you all go for will end up being the best one to go for once you get into the service area, by fortuitous happenstance. aperta has also identified the likely ingress location of the other guards, who've just been called away from horrible gastrointestinal distress and will now form a feculent phalanx. pick a service entrance location - this will spawn a group of guards in a couple of rounds, which may help corral the crowd or fight against the mob. also your Logic roll informs you that you probably don't need to waste a half-action before entering each room on auspexing unless you specifically want to check for something other than ravening maniacs, as going off the floorplan they probably won't have found an ingress that way yet. although it may be worth doing so before leaving the building. i mean, it's just common sense. maps -
we are now in structured time. you have two half-actions per round; if you're confused, head to the OOC thread. remember, you can move your AG bonus in metres as a half-action move, twice your AG bonus in metres as a full-action move, three times your AG bonus in metres as a Charge (and attack someone at the end), and six times your AG bonus in metres as a Run. iseppo is still gimping along at AG bonus 2. initiative order is players, NPCs, mob, guards, then crowd. we're not rolling initiative yet attacks against the amorphous groups are auto-hits, except for jams etc. assume a TN of 100 with no modifiers if you need to determine DoS. Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 23:14 on May 29, 2016 |
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May 29, 2016 23:07
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Exsanguination The Rookery Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W_5unoZTpoQ Bulworth and Eadian dither awkwardly, poised on the cusp of action, as Gamma scoops up the abandoned weapon from behind the bar counter and scurries to the cover of the makeshift sniper nest. Ignatius hustles along, somewhere between a fast jog and a sprint, as Iseppo tap-taps behind him. He gives the impression of moving as fast as he can, but, knowing what he does about Iseppo's sham limp, Ignatius can see that the Deculon is not even breathing hard. The crowd presses together some feet away, but close to the wall, the pair of them are able to weave their way between the odd straggler or passed-out drunkard with ease. Squeezing through the mass of bodies would be slow, but an option. Passage via charm or silvered tongue would allow movement at top speed, but would probably be a little on the tricky side. Passage via brute force, warning shot, or shock maul would be practically trivial, but would, of course, come with its own problems a little further down the line. On the other hand, that assumes that there will be survivors... Aperta, sensitive to the growing time pressure, decides the time to act is upon him, and simply books it down the stairs to his chosen exit point, chattering briefly down his commbead to coordinate with the rest of his cell. Cogitatio bobs gently behind him, combat barrel at full extension, as the techpriest slows, briefly, reaching the outskirts of the densely-packed crowd outside. Uncertain as to whether he can feasibly barge his way through - his heavy flak armour nearly counteracts his spindly voidborn form, but while there's a lot of chin missing from the bunch in front of him, there's also a fair amount of muscle in the form of retainers or bodyguards. Across from Aperta, in the darkened club area on the lower floor, the front doors shatter like matchsticks. Gamma and Bulworth have a perfect view of the screaming, bloody-mouthed mob storming the entrance like fashionista berserkers, filigreed canes grasped in fine-nailed fists and elegant, crimsoned duelling rapiers clutched tightly overhead. They are upon the club patrons in seconds. Some die without ever turning their heads to their attackers; others form the first indications of lugubrious surprise before having their lives torn from them. A fat, waistcoated nobleman with face contorted by rage slams a splintered tableleg through the throat of his victim; a pair of tattooed women take ornamental scrimshawed krises to the face of another. The floor is by turns sticky and slippery beneath their feet. The house guards barrel from the guardroom out onto the main floor, hefting blocky shotguns, stunners and clubs. They alternate between apparently screaming into earpieces and screaming at the crowd to clear the area. The guards may be panicky, but this isn't their first rodeo - the first indications of a firing line begin to coalesce, although quite how willing they'd be to lay down their lives for the benefit of their clientèle is an open question. Perhaps a more expedient approach to crowd control will be settled on.  top! click for big  bottom! click for big --- so. bulworth and eadian Hold their actions for now, although if you get them in over the next couple days i can retcon them. deathsandwich has mentioned he ain't able to post so much at the moment, so fine, but deathclock has started on Eadian, who has a few rounds of inaction left before suicide. post or die. gamma retrieves, scampers. she has a shotgun in her offhand or on her back, whichever's more convenient. iseppo does an AB 2 Run action, and ignatius jogs gently in front of him. again, iseppo can be chivvied into using his full AG bonus, and may in fact do so of his own accord if given pressing reason to. aperta runs; there's still 3m of your Run move left if you want to actually barge through the crowd, but it's a -20 AG test to not go sprawling so the call is yours. you have not explicitly mentioned in this thread which exit the other guards are gonna come out of. game stuff needs to be in game thread even if it's just italics at the bottom of an unrelated post. the mob comes in and starts carving up the civilian crowd, which takes a surprise round and does nothing except goggle a bit. the guards spill out onto the dancefloor and begin shouting for the crowd to MOVE. it is fairly apparent that next round they will fire. i'm real hungover so i may have forgotten stuff. shout if anything's unclear if at any point it becomes apparent that you can escape without any danger, we'll just snap to the next scene. ways to do this are varied, but involve a clear route to an exit and no-one actively trying to kill you specifically.
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Jun 6, 2016 21:39
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Chelation The Rookery Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2dlIEeb4Pl0 Bulworth leaps into action - pretty literally. Glancing upwards, he leaps and grabs the catwalk directly above him. Flips and jumps may not be his stock-in-trade, but he's got leg muscles like teak and within seconds he's up onto the catwalk, leaving Gamma below him. Righting himself, he sprints over the heads of the gormless crowd, towards Ignatius and Iseppo. For her part, Gamma hurtles down the stairs at a fair clip, leading with the pistol and shotgun held low behind her. She thuds into the wall next to Aperta, who is busy tearing off the wallpaper with mechanical fingers as Cogitatio applies some hissing, fizzing unguent to the bare brickwork. It appears to be weakening with remarkable speed, but will need significant amounts of force to get a hole big enough to squeeze through. Eadian continues to dither aimlessly as Ignatius and Iseppo attempt to make their way to the stairs. Bulworth appears on the catwalk nearby, gesturing for the two nobles to grab his hands and be hauled up, but Ignatius takes the opportunity to express relief that covering fire has arrived. The sight of the Arbite's mismatched pistols drawn and ready for action, more than anything else, seems to get through to Iseppo, and as Ignatius clears a path through the squabbling crowd with nothing but the set of his expression and an authoritative bearing, the Deculon begins to move at full speed. A few pained winces and some obvious mugging appear to be part of the package, but, unfortunately, a full-out sprint does not. The mob makes short work of the defenceless crowd on the ground floor and begins to make bloody inroads, presumably seeking out the dance floor. A few members of the crowd, whether hemmed in by their fellows, made bold by drink, or simply being made of sterner stuff than their friends, push back against the bloody-mouthed maniacs, slowing their progress. Unfortunately, the press also makes it difficult for the party-goers to get out of the line of fire of the house guards; white-faced and sweating, whatever passes for their shift commander gives the order, and a barrage of heavy shot fills the air with screaming. Several members of the mob are shredded by the blasts, but so are several members of the crowd. The civilians will doubtless look to take any route out of the bloodbath the main club floor has become; any at all.  upstairs!  downstairs! http://i.imgur.com/eBhlwrw.jpg lady's chamber! --- scrun- wait, wrong thread bulworth gets up onto the catwalks with a standing jump (best use of his delayed half-action; he's near enough the bar area for me to not care about getting onto the right square) and a successful acrobatics roll. next round he sprints over to the central, northernmost table to help Iseppo and Ignatius up onto the catwalks. gamma runs; aperta goos (no roll required, but mark off some of your unguents). as mentioned in OOC thread, +0 Strength or a shock maul/shotgun attack at point blank to bash it open. resultant hole will be difficult terrain; another attack will make it passable with no problems eadian does dick; ignatius commands and persuades iseppo. Command is not normally used in this sort of situation, as you don't actually have authority over these nobles; command is used to make your squad charge the machine gun nest. however, given context and given that it is literally identical to your Charm roll, i'll let you use it. basically it's a hilarious failure of 97, i.e. about 6DoF. sway the masses brings it to 3DoS though, and the crowd parts. iseppo's disposition test is a success; he picks up the pace a bit and full-moves at a regular 6m pace. doesn't Run. realistically he'd have to delay his move until the crowd took their turn and opened up a passage for him, only allowing a half-move, so i'm being nice and splitting the difference between half- and run- moves. if the upstairs crowd gets spooked and you're caught in the gap, you'll get trampled Symplegades-style. shoulda sent a dove through first mob does its killing thing, but not particularly well this round. crowd move a bit and get shot by the guards who gently caress up amusingly and almost leave more civilians dead than mob-members. second guard squad has arrived, straight into the tangled northern chunk of civvies, and inches from the mob. next round, crowd will probably panic and flee upstairs as it's the only space for them to move into that isn't into people who are killing them. innate respect for mechanicus people and weird dwarves with shotguns (how shadowrun) will not stop them sweeping aperta and gamma along with them. to stop this you either want some sort of way of intimidating them away from you, or for gamma to shotgun the wall to bits and aperta to dive through, leaving the psyker to be heroically trampled. or opposed strength tests or other bright ideas, w/e Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 20:49 on Jun 16, 2016 |
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Jun 13, 2016 22:22
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Redecoration The Rookery Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vcDUQf1Hg_k Scarlet billows, starts to spread. Ripping, tearing, and encarmine scattering appears to be the order of the day, so Bulworth, possibly slightly crazed by the escalating situation, decides that if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. With expert balance, he backpedals a few steps and holsters his pistols before dashing forward and launching himself obliquely at the wall, a palmed shard of glass from the bar at the ready. On his descent he seizes one of the heavy drapes that cover the walls, floor to ceiling, and with his other hand aims a jagged slash as high up as he can manage. His fall is arrested nicely by the tearing fabric - off-world velvet that no local could afford in a decade's toil frays and tatters, but by the time he hits the floor, rolls, and comes up again, the Arbite has a bolt of fabric gathered in his arms that should easily act as a rope down to ground level. It's even thick enough to guard against broken glass. Bulworth curses as he rises, though; he's badly misjudged his swing caused by following the shearing velvet, and hasn't made it anywhere near as far to the eastmost wall as he was hoping. Eadian freezes once more; stabbing his finger into his ear to monitor comms chatter, he hears talk of escape via a window. Conveniently, there's one in the room right behind him. He just needs to get it open, or smash it. Iseppo shoots the Acolytes a venomous look as he spins on his heel and begins running back to the meeting rooms with, admittedly, an admirable reaction time. He has pretty much dropped his limping charade for absolutely no reason - quite what this means to him is a bit uncertain at the moment, but he's not happy about it. Ignatius sprints ahead of him, rounding the corner back to the meeting rooms, barging through the door indicated by Eadian and taking up position in front of the window. Aperta darts through the opening blasted by the micro-explosives in Gamma's new toy; he scuttles through the darkened room, ignorant of the curious rubbery technologies evident within, and shoulder-barges the door open. He is astonished to see Thunder and Lightning (or is it Lightning and Thunder?) emerging from the service area, both visibly alert and ready to rumble, but one of them considerably more groggy-looking than the other. They are bodyguards in search of a body to guard - they're not deliberately blocking the Techpriest's exit, but they're definitely in the way! Gamma, nursing her sore wrist, thrusts the other one out in the general direction of a table heavily laden with dripping wax candles. It is yet another example of the conspicuous consumption evident in the Gilded Thorn - where the hell do you find bees on a water world? - and she sends several hundred Throne's worth of candle up in smoke. Seizing onto the pyropholistogenic essence of the burning wicks, she sets every iota of the candles ablaze at once - the sudden, dramatic flare and flash of heat is, for a fraction of a moment, like a second sun. The screaming of the crowd redoubles as they fight to get away both from the explosion and from the mob carving them up. Gamma has bought some time. The mob continue their onslaught, ululating and screaming as they come. They scythe into the crowd like... well, like steel through flesh, heedless of the withering crossfire they're taking from the house guards. Bodies writhe underfoot as the bloody-mouthed group try to end as many lives as possible; they barely flinch as the diversionary fireblast goes off. They penetrate deep into the main press on the dance floor; Gamma is treated to the unpleasant sights and sounds of a chubby noble being rapidly flensed alive by a pair of ravening fops not three metres away from her. Mercifully, her night vision's mostly nullified by the fireblast. The guards have found their groove; they may be whitefaced and shaking, but shot after shot strike home in the flesh of the aggressors, rather than in the crowd of people they are supposed to protect. Invaders are blown apart by high-calibre shells or cut down by jagged bursts of automatic fire. A couple members of the crowd scatter in front of the northermost group, and take a few stray shots for their troubles - the majority of the civilians not tied up in desperate melee flood towards the southern exits, desperately seeking escape.  upstairs!  downstairs! ---- ! bulworth leaps, catfalls. not gonna roll for ripping the curtain, i believe it to be unnecessary. however, rolling for distance on the horizontal leap (i assume you ran back and then forward, it gives you more distance with no downside), you managed a masterful 6DoF, which practically moves you backwards. 1/2m is the minimum, you can still reach the curtain with your arms from this position, so really you just plop down in front of the table. you can FP this but i think you probably have better things to spend fate on. eadian, ignatius, iseppo get on with executing Plan Don't Fall Out The Window. iseppo's pissed at the fact he dropped the running charade for no reason, but w/e, he can deal with it. you need to get the window open and spend a full round in front of it tying the curtain in place. however - once everyone is in the meeting room, i will abstract out the remaining actions. i assume you can bar the door.aperta has found thunder and lightning. they are looking for iseppo and are in your way. once they are no longer blocking your egress i will abstract out the remaining actionsgamma blams the wall and sets off her distraction. the crowd goes wild!!! mob mobs; about half of them are dead. guards guard a bit better; they kill some mobbers and civvies. crowd panic, get tied up in melee, run away from flames.
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Jun 22, 2016 21:00
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you can move your Ag bonus in squares as a half-action. that's not enough to get to the window this round. you can get there as a full action, but then can't do anything else this round. do you wanna move next to it, or take it out from a distance with whatever firearms you have? alternatively - ignatius is very close to the window and can probably handle getting it open. is there anything else you think is worth doing?
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Jun 24, 2016 00:40
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Emancipation The Rookery Port Remonstrance https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7-__DABbNeI Ignatius strides towards the meeting room window, autopistol barking as it stitches a jagged line of fire through the reinforced glass. Mesh cloak balled around his fist, he backhands the ruined pane, sending a scatter of harmless cubes out into the darkness below. Iseppo is guided into the room by Eadian as the strategy officer helpfully points out the window that Ignatius is in the process of deconstructing. Bulworth, breathing hard, brings up the rear, bundled fabric slung over one shoulder. It's not been particularly easy to sprint past a squabbling and bemused crowd with the curtain weighing him down, but he's done it before with heavier weights, and at least the curtain's not struggling and resisting arrest. He drops the bolt of cloth onto the meeting room table as the Acolytes, with terse language, begin divvying up the work required to fashion their escape route. On the ground floor, Gamma squeezes through the gap created by her shotgun blast and stumbles out into the corridor, hot on the heels of Aperta. The techpriest, for his part, is brought up short by both Thunder and Lightning raising brutal-looking pistols with astonishing speed - perhaps barrelling down a corridor out of the shadows towards the trained killers, gabbling rapidly, wasn't the best approach. Once Iseppo's name is out of Aperta's voxbox, the bodyguard who'd accompanied the team upstairs lowers his weapon, his companion following suit a fraction of a second later. "Right. Get the boat sorted. Gonna get the boss." growls the less sickly-looking of the pair, and they hare off down the corridor, barging past techpriest and psyker both, on their ill-informed path towards the main bar area. The mob continue their onslaught, driving the bulk of the crowd from the main bar area. The floor is thick with charnel fluids as the crowd, skidding and slipping, bolt for the southern-most exits, streaming past Thunder and Lightning as the pair struggle to stay on their feet. The guards continue to pour fire into the warptouched nobles, felling ever more of their number, but the northern contingent has become enmeshed in melee. It's only a matter of time before the smaller squad get overwhelmed, and the guards, seeing that the front entrance is now clear of hostiles, are probably thinking about exit strategy right now. The crowd upstairs are still oblivious to what's occured downstairs. Their doom is inevitable; it's only a matter of time. Time, blood, and screaming.  up  down --- It was going so well. The team had reconvened outside; a quick blast of the sensor array revealed five sets of lifesigns holding steady round the other side of the building, making Aperta jumpy but not yet panicky. Proceeding with as much haste as the situation warrants, the Techpriest realises something with a sickening lurch. Now there's only four sets of signs. Bleating urgently over the commbeads to alert the rest of the cell, the Techpriest hustles towards the boat as quickly as possible. A pair of tottering figures hare round the corner of the building, streaking towards the cell on unsteady feet, reddened blades held low in front of them.  Initiative posted:
--- ignatius half-moves, and auto-bursts at the window to maximise the chance of getting enough glass out. you guys probably could have opened it normally but finding key, readying key, using key... gun's faster. that's six rounds gone from the clip - you may wanna include a reload as part of the scene transition, i'm sure you can find a spare combat round. eadian ain't really got anything useful to do now so walks into the meeting room, presumably poised to slam the door once everyone's in and put something heavy in front of it. bulworth runs; i could give you a penalty to your movement due to carrying a big bolt of fabric but it would basically mean we spend another turn running with no real risk of bodily injury so i'm not gonna. top floor is clear; you all will be out of the building in seven roundsgamma moves aperta tries a Disposition test on the bodyguards; they ain't happy but they're not going to shoot him down either. you didn't see fit to tell them that their boss isn't hanging around, though. they think he's still upstairs. bottom floor is now clear; you will all be out of the building in six rounds, giving you one rounds preptime before your next actions. this includes using the auspex before leaving the building, as i remember it was mentioned that aperta would want to be doing that.so yeah in that time, the guys who broke off from the main body of the mob have got round the side of the building, killed a hobo, and now want to kill you! also there's probably been an absolute bloodbath inside the club too. thunder and lightning are still inside get on the boat, you're home free. this is genuinely structured time now, you will move in initiative order. again, one square is one metre. gamma and aperta can use their spare round for e.g. overwatch, if desired. lol that your init bonus for scanning only brought your roll up to "nearly baseline human" e: oh yeah, poo poo:
Inexplicable Humblebrag fucked around with this message at 23:18 on Jul 8, 2016 |
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Jun 25, 2016 21:14
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so you're specifically attacking the dock rather than the attackers, then? and are you moving after firing? firing is a half-action, you have another half-action to use on e.g. moving your Ag bonus in metres, or readying something else
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Jul 2, 2016 00:40
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