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  • Locked thread
megane
Jun 20, 2008





loving hell, it's pouring today. There are days when the rain on Butcher's Bay can be almost pleasant, especially if you manage to find yourself a nice, warm, dry spot, though gently caress knows those are worth more than a whole pile of jingle nowadays. But then there are days when it feels like the sky is out to get you, personally, you fucker, how dare you talk about the sky's sister like that. Water like fists. Water like hatred.

Today's one of those days.

Of course, there's one of you on this beach, out of the dozen or so here huddling in their coats, who don't give half a poo poo about the rain. And that's Captain Diego. He's... well, he's pretty far past carin' about much of anything, at this point. Smoke nudges the Captain's waterlogged, shark-chewed corpse with her boot and sniffs noncommittally. "Yep. That is one dead rat-lookin' motherfucker right there," she says brightly. "Brews here hauled his rear end outta the reef this mornin'." Brews, looking utterly miserable, waves the long stick-with-a-hook-on-the-end he presumably used for the job, then goes back to half-heartedly trying to get a fire going. Smoke scratches her rear end, and then spits on the corpse, but, you know, in a friendly sort of way. "What do you think we should do with him?"

The Captain smiles blankly up at you, his little beady rat eyes looking almost amused.

gently caress.


Twilight, who's at this little gathering that probably shouldn't have shown up? How the poo poo did they even know about it? Hell, how did you hear about it? And who isn't here that definitely should be?

Iris, who's been nosin' around Burrough's your house, looking way too greedy for your liking? It is a pretty nice place, sure, but they should be afraid of your spooky rear end, if they know what's good for 'em, shouldn't they? What do you sense here on this beach that makes you nervous?

Inque, how come you were already skulkin' around on this stretch of the beach when Brews and Smoke showed up? Does it have anything to do with that Desert Cultist guy who's been hanging around the Tanned Hide, trying to talk to you?

Lady Monsoon, uggggh. Of course Diego had do go and get his salty rear end killed right when you fuckin' need him. Uh, what did you need him for again? And how are you going to have to handle it, now he's six feet under?

Abel, after inspecting the body, you find lots of bite marks, but then... there's this one injury that doesn't seem to match the rest. What kind of weapon makes a wound like that? And who does that make you suspect, even though... no, it couldn't possibly be them, right? Who are you gonna tell about it?

Lyric, who were you arguing with this morning, before you got called out here? What problem were they insisting is your fault? Like every crisis is your fuckin' job, right? Why does Lady Monsoon, of all people, seem like your best bet for fixing it?



Info sheet is here, including highlights and such. Please keep track of your Hx on there as it changes!

megane fucked around with this message at Nov 13, 2016 around 07:35

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Heliotrope
Aug 17, 2007

Oh, don't worry, don't worry!

It's not my blood.



Cool +1 | Hard -2 | Hot-1 | Sharp +2 | Weird +2
Harm: 0:00 | XP: 0/5 | Barter: 6

Spending 2 barter for lifestyle

I look down at Captain Diego's body, holding an umbrella is one hand. Everyone is trying to figure out what it means. Lots of people here. Abel is here, which is good. I might need to talk to him about Noah. I don't know what's up with him, but I saw him hanging outside the house. He didn't do anything at least. Not yet, anyway. He seemed like he might though and I asked the Maelstorm if he's been around before. "Yep," it said. That was actually all it would say. If Abel can't do anything, I guess I'll have to take matters into my own hands.

But right now, there's this to deal with. The thing is, I can sense the presence of the Maelstorm in the area. I mean, it's usually just about everywhere but it seems really interested in being here right now. Kind of unusual, and probably not a good sign. So I whisper to the Maelstorm "What's going on?" as I let it come into my mind.

[04:35] <Heliotrope> Open Your Brain
[04:35] <Heliotrope> !r 2d6+2
[04:35] <Krysmbot> Heliotrope, 6+2 = 8



quote:



Iris the Brainer

Look: Woman, high formal wear, smooth face, deep eyes, soft body

Stats

Cool+1 Hard-2 Hot-1 Sharp+2 Weird+2

Moves

Direct-brain whisper projection: you can roll+weird to get the effects of going aggro, without going aggro. Your victim has to be able to see you, but you don’t have to interact. If your victim forces your hand, your mind counts as a weapon (1-harm ap close loud-optional).

In-brain puppet strings: when you have time and physical intimacy with someone—again, mutual or 1-sided—you can plant a command inside their mind. Roll+weird. On a 10+, hold 3. On a 7–9, hold 1. At your will, no matter the circumstances, you can spend your hold 1 for 1:
• Inflict 1-harm (ap).
• They take -1 right now.
If they fulfill your command, that counts for all your remaining hold. On a miss, you inflict 1-harm (ap) upon your subject, to no benefit.

Disciplined engagement: when you inflict harm, you can choose to inflict any amount of harm you like, less than or up to your harm as established, including s-harm. Decide at the moment you inflict the harm; you need not tell anyone in advance how much harm you intend to inflict.

Gear:

Small fancy weapon:
• silenced 9mm (2-harm close hi-tech)

Brainer gear:

Violation glove (hand hi-tech)
For purposes of brainer moves, mere skin contact counts as time and intimacy.

Pain-wave projector (1-harm ap area loud reload hi-tech)
Goes off like a reusable grenade. Hits everyone but you.

Oddments worth 8-barter

Fashion worth 1-armor (blue suit that uses low amount of psychic energy to project a barrier around the wearer)

HX

Go around again for Hx. On your turn, ask 1, 2 or all 3:
• Which one of you has slept in my presence (knowingly or un-)? Twilight
For that character, write Hx+2.
• Which one of you have I been watching carefully, in secret? Lyric
For that character, write Hx+2.
• Which one of you most evidently dislikes and distrusts me? Inque
For that character, write Hx+3.

For everyone else, write Hx+1. You have weird insights into everyone.


BRAINER SPECIAL

If you and another character have sex, you automatically do a deep brain scan on them, whether you have the move or not. Roll+weird as normal. However, the MC chooses which questions the other character’s player answers.

Advances

Get a move from another playbook (Disciplined engagement, from Quarantine)

Heliotrope fucked around with this message at Nov 25, 2016 around 02:39

nil.
Nov 11, 2012



Cool +1 | Hard +0 | Hot +1 | Sharp +2 | Weird -1
Harm: 0:00 | XP: 1/5 | Angel Kit: 6/6 | Barter: 1

Abel


Spending 1 barter for lifestyle.

Well, drat.

The rain, that always present drum and prickling and force beats upon my back, pours down my face as I kneel next to what's left of Diego - Captain Diego, or at least used to be. I roll the body over - that boy Brews is no use right now - and take a look, and there's a couple of talks going on in my head going on at the same time. Don't misunderstand me, I know what to do, how to handle bodies - not that I haven't done this before, far from it. But Captain Diego isn't just anybody, is he? Was.

I trace my gloved fingers across his back. Shark bites. Consistent with spending more than a few minutes in the water, sure. Nothing too illuminating. I frown and try to remember. Did he have family? A lover? I can't recall right now. And it seems pointless anyway, a corpse is a corpse. I sigh, shake my head. Because I know one thing for sure, the one thing that is really bothering me, bothering as if I was seeing the dark, flashing clouds of a true storm on the horizon. A storm to sweep away what was built, and nobody can know what's going to be standing once it's past. Diego was the ruler of Thames. And now, obviously, he's no longer, and the position is vacant.

There's going to be more corpses in the near future. And I'm going to be busy, which normally, would be good, only this.... this is going to get a lot more complicated. Because someone will make a play for being the new boss, and someone will take offense at that, thinking they'd do a much better job, better than the other guy - and like that, we have knives in the alleys of Thames, and everyone caught in between. Me included. Because it's all well and good if I patch people up after some raider attack, because that's when the knives are turned outward, as it should be. When the knives are turned on each other, everybody suddenly has an opinion on who should be stitched up and who should be left to bleed out. And then the knives are pointed at me.

I turn Diego onto his back. More shark bites - and one odd wound, at the neck, not in line with the others. Hm. Round. Piercing, but not clean like a knife. Didn't rip out any flesh. I look at the wound and try to figure out what it means, and at the same time, I see some fresh body in my infirmary and hear the fighting in Thames outside. I'll need to prepare. To weather the storm, maybe even guide the storm. Because I've seen this before, hell, I've done this before. Naked ambition and that feeling you get when you hold that gun in your hand, how it makes you feel you should be the one to tell everyone what they should do. Power struggles in a raider gang and in a stronghold like Thames, they're not so different.

That wound... Improvised weapon. I put a finger into it, and nudge out something that confirms what I already thought. A shining splinter of glass. Someone took a broken off bottle to Diego's neck. May have been what killed him, or may have been what attracted the sharks after he dropped into the water. Of course, around here, it's the Tanned Hide that traffics in bottles like this - and it's not like they're letting their customers leave with that stuff. They're much too precious. So, Leatherhead or Salt, although Salt is not the kind to do something like this. Or is he? Because this might not have been planned. If it had been planned, someone would already have made a play for being the new boss of Thames. I wish someone had already made a play. It might have been ugly, but it'd be over already. But now I'm left with this mess. I take one last look at Diego and try to find anything that'll tell me what really happened. I'm not sure it's actually going to matter because there's no stopping what's going to happen now, no matter who did this. But who knows.

I get up. Eyes towards the future, and I know what to do. The infirmary needs to be made defensible, enough so that folks don't get any ideas about telling me who I should side with. A few years back, I would have thought I was the one to do it, gun in hand, taking on all comers. But that's not what I do anymore, besides, I have more to think of now. Noah and Maya and my experiments. So I need muscle, to keep the infirmary safe, neutral and maybe, just maybe, play kingmaker. Get this whole thing sorted out as cleanly as possible. I take a look at the people gathered on the beach, and it's obvious who I should choose from. Monsoon or Twilight.

I consider for a second, then walk over to Twilight. People think Monsoon is more dangerous than she actually might be, which would be a good thing right now, but first priority is Twilight. If only to make sure she's not signing up with any of the factions that are sure to spring up once word comes down that Diego is dead. Actually, someone is probably spreading the news as we speak. "Twilight, a word." I motion for her to walk a little way away for from the others, for some privacy. Nobody speaks at first, and I look out toward the horizon, looking for that storm brewing.

"Diego's dead, and someone is going to get it in their head they should do his job. Only the problem is going to be, it's not going to be just one 'someone'." I look at her. Always with the poncho. Always with the weapons. "And when those wild dogs smell that fresh piece of meat, they'll forget all about everything else, about the teeth in their own flesh, their teeth in their enemies and in bystanders." I brush over my exposed arm, the one with the tattoo, the one that held the machete when I was still a Legionnaire and now hold the scalpel. "There's a power struggle coming, and it'll damage Thames just to rule over it. There'll be bodies in the street, which is where I come in. Which is also where you come in. I need someone to make sure I can do my work, so that nobody pointedly expresses an opinion about when I should or shouldn't do my work."

I shrug. "Someone else will probably try to hire you too soon enough. Probably someone who can pay better than me, which is easy, because I can't pay. But consider this: if the wrong piece of equipment gets damaged, the wrong people hurt, killed, you're gonna rule over just some worthless piece of mud." I make a sweeping gesture towards the horizon. "And there's more than enough of that out there already."

<nil_> Abel Manipulate Twilight
<nil_> !r 2d6+1
<Krysmbot> nil_, 11+1 = 12
If they go along with you, they mark experience, if they refuse, erase one of their stat highlights for the remainder of the session.
Abel wants: Twilight will help Abel run his clinic without interference and limit the damage during the troubles to come and will stay neutral for now.
Gaining XP for highlighted stat.

nil. fucked around with this message at Nov 14, 2016 around 09:05

Tardzilla
Aug 31, 2006




Hard =0 | Cool -2 | Hot +1 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2
Harm 0:00 | Experience: 1/5 | 5-barter

Spending one barter on lifestyle.

The rain falls heavy today, but not enough to wash away my irritation. Nothing but distractions today. Loud, annoying distractions. Not even the sight of my Songbird, Inque, is enough to calm me. What happened to the captain is tragic, yes, but why am I called here? Do they not know I have more important work to do? More music to compose? No, of course they don't. They call me for help, but then they question me, and blame me when everything goes wrong, when it is them who are wrong for ignoring my words.

I told him. I told that tone deaf brute, Bolts, to wait. I told him to let me finish tuning the elevator lift, but he did not. "It looks good enough to me!" he said, and now look at what happened. The lift broke, and fell, and now we have to use the ladders again, and he has the nerve to blame me. It's my fault for doing a shoddy job? No! It is YOU who is at fault because you refuse to listen! You throw accusations at my face! Call me a liar, a trickster, a "two-bit crook," but you are just jealous, jealous that you cannot hear The Metal the same way I do, jealous that you are denied their sweet melody. The broken lift is in dissonance now because of you. The once harmonious sounds it made are gone, and there are nothing but painful, wailing, screams, and now our self-appointed "head mechanic" has tasked me to fix his mistakes.

It is probably better this way. Bolts would find a way to make it worse. It needs a careful hand to heal it, and I am that healer, but I cannot do it alone. There is too much noise. I need the help of another to calm it. I need Lady Monsoon. Say what you will about the Lady, but she is honest She does not hide who she is, and she bares herself out (literally and figuratively) for all to see, with no shame, like The Metal. The Lady does not know it, but they hum along with her wherever she walks, and sing a calm song. Yes, she is who I need.

I approach her, and stand in front of her. "Hello, Lady Monsoon. Will you be free after this? I require your... assistance," I brush a wet strand of hair away from her face, "You see, I need assistance in fixing an elevator lift, and you're the only one with the special talents that I need, and yes, I will make sure you'll be properly rewarded." I lean in closer to her, close enough that our faces are almost an inch apart from each other, and look at her with expectant eyes, "So, are you interested?"

quote:

<Hugzilla> Lyric seducing Lady Monsoon
<Hugzilla> !r 2d6+1
<Krysmbot> Hugzilla, 9+1 = 10

If they go along with you, they mark experience, if they refuse, erase one of their stat highlights for the remainder of the session.
Lyric is trying to get Lady Monsoon to help her fix the broken lift.
Marking XP for highlighted stat.

quote:


The metal sings, and I give it voice.

It speaks, not through words, but through emotions.Those emotions form a melody, and they say more than mere words do. They sing of a time before the rain, back when there were buildings that reached the clouds, of a time when we flew the skies with metal birds. The metal remembers all, and never forgets.

They think, to combine the metal, you put two or three or four pieces together and that would be enough, but that is wrong. It is reckless, and all that is created is noise. Awful, loud, harsh noises, made by the deaf. They ask how I create things that never break, and I tell them to listen. Open your ears. The pieces must flow together, like a symphony. The melodies must match, and work together to create a piece that is stronger together. That is how I create. That is how I fix. I listen.

I hear a faint calling, from beyond The Curtain. It sounds like the metal, but it is not. It is a unique sound that I have never heard before. What is it, I wonder? Is there more history of the world before the rain? Or is it a new type of metal, with their own songs to sing? I do not know, but I must know. I will find a way to go forward, and see what lies forth. My curiosity is too great to leave it unanswered~

Name: Lyric
Player: Hugzilla
Playbook: Savvyhead
Look: Woman, utility wear plus tech, expressive face, dancing eyes, wiry body

Stats:
Cool -1
Hard =0
Hot +1
Sharp +1
Weird +2

Moves:

Things Speak: whenever you handle or examine something interesting, roll + weird. On a hit, you can ask the MC questions. On a 10+, ask 3. On a 7-9, ask 1:
Who handled this last before me?
Who made this?
What strong emotions have been most recently nearby this?
What words have been said most recently nearby this?
What has been done most recently with this, or to this?
What’s wrong with this, and how might I fix it?
Treat a miss as though you’ve opened your brain to the world’s psychic maelstrom and missed the roll.

Reality’s fraying edge: some component of your workspace, or some arrangement of components, is uniquely receptive to the world’s psychic maelstrom (+augury). Choose and name it, or else leave it for the MC to reveal during play.

Gear:

Makeshift Sawed-off Shotgun (3-harm close messy)
Oddments worth 6-barter

Workspace

Workspace includes: a garage, a junkyard of raw materials, machining tools.

When you go into your workspace and dedicate yourself to making a thing, or to getting to the bottom of some poo poo, decide what and tell the MC. e MC will tell you “sure, no problem, but…” and then 1 to 4 of the following:
It’s going to take hours/days/weeks/months of work.
First you’ll have to get/build/fix/figure out_.
You’re going to need —— to help you with it.
It’s going to cost you a fuckton of jingle.
The best you’ll be able to do is a crap version, weak and unreliable
It’s going to mean exposing yourself (plus colleagues) to serious danger.
You’re going to have to add —— to your workplace first.
It’s going to take several/dozens/hundreds of tries.
You’re going to have to take —— apart to do it.
The MC might connect them all with “and,” or might throw in a merciful “or.”

Once you’ve accomplished the necessaries, you can go ahead and accomplish the thing itself. e MC will stat it up, or spill, or whatever it calls for.

Savvyhead Special:

If you and another character have sex, they automatically speak to you, as though you were a thing, and you’d rolled a 10+, whether you have the move or not. The other player and the MC will answer your questions between them.

Hx:

• Which of you is the most strange? For those characters, write Hx+1. (Iris)
• Which one of you is the biggest potential problem? For that character, write Hx+2. (Twilight)
For everyone else, write Hx-1. You’ve got other stuff to do and other stuff to learn.

Tardzilla fucked around with this message at Nov 13, 2016 around 20:26

Tricky
Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage




Cool -1 | Hard +3 | Hot -2 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2
Harm 0:00 | Experience: 1/5 | 1-barter

1-barter for lifestyle.

I'd been bunked down in the Tanned Hide for the last few days. Reasonable rates, quiet enough. Art, if you're into that. I'm mostly just there for a bite and a brew. One of the kids, a runner, came in and woke me up. Bout took his head off before I remembered where I was. Wasn't on the hunt. Not yet. But now? Seems like the hunt found me.

The rain beat a staccato pattern on my head as I stared down at the beach. Another corpse. The Captain. Shark-bitten and bloodied. There had been several in the last week, but nobody important. Not important enough to convince Payne that the danger was real. Perhaps this would be the first crack in his ignorance. Perhaps he would even heed my warnings now. Unlikely. This did present a small problem -- Diego had hired me to look into the shark infestation plaguing the Bay. If he was dead, so was my contract. I sighed. The power vacuum didn't bode well for business. Not my business, anyways. The only game people would be interested in hunting would be man. I scanned up and down the beach. Most of the hold's power players were here. There was an extra, though, skulking around behind the group. Some kid wet behind the ears. Wait. His face was familiar. I had seen him on Thames before. Sparks, I think. Some nobody running with the Drowned Men. Tried to shake me down when I first arrived. Took him down and held my knife to his throat. He got the message. No clue why he'd be here. His bosses barely trusted him on the shake-down beat. Must have followed someone from Thames.

Curious that First Mate wasn't around. Her boss was the one dead. You'd think that she'd want to be in on the discussion and start preparing to deal with the chaos. Two possibilities came to mind immediately. First, she did it. Didn't need to confirm the death when you executed it. Second, we'd find her washed up on the reef in the days to come. Either way would be telling. Abel walked over to me and invited me off for a brief discussion. Huh. Hadn't dealt with the man much but he was certainly taking the reins on this situation. We stood for a while, watching the rain, then he invited me to work for him. Fair play. He then clarified he couldn't pay. I raised an eyebrow at that. Everything cost. If not money, then services. If not services, then promises. If not promises, then blood. Always blood in the end.

Accepting the manipulate, marking XP.

I looked at him, my expression blank, "Fine. I'll guard your clinic and stay out of the chaos, Abel. No problem. But-" I held up two fingers. "Here's the rub. If I get banged up while I'm working for you, you fix me up. No question, no cost. I have enough to get by for now, but when that runs dry I walk. You want me to stay longer? Better find some jingle." I looked back towards the body. "Guessing this wasn't just those sharks, huh? Any thoughts?"

nil.
Nov 11, 2012



Cool +1 | Hard +0 | Hot +1 | Sharp +2 | Weird -1
Harm: 0:00 | XP: 1/5 | Angel Kit: 6/6 Barter: 1

Figures. She has that mercenary vibe about her. Not that I am surprised or offended, mind. I know good work costs. Still, free healthcare is out of the question, and it's not because I'm greedy. When they're bleeding out, me making the pain stop, make them live for just another minute is the most important thing in the world. They'd pay anything. Once they're stitched up, they tend to forget all about that and go back to vaguely assuming prolonging life is just something I'm handing out, and if I can't, it's like I'm some drug supplier holding out and driving at a better price. Still, I can't blame Twilight.

I look out toward the ocean. "Sure, I'll fix you up. No cost, though, that's not possible." I turn to face her, hold up one hand, placating. "Hear me out. It's just not possible. You can't fight without bullets, I can't work without supplies. But, sure, I understand your position. We can't just make jingle appear from thin air. I still think we can make this work. I suppose... I could put it on a tab, just this once." I'm making a gamble here - I could promise her things, things I know I might not be able to provide. "I'm not asking you to 'work' for me for free forever. I'm not even asking you to sit this out. All I'm asking is to help me to not make this worse. Stay neutral for now."

I roll my shoulders. "And who knows?" I glance over at her rifle. "I figure you know the benefits of a good vantage point. To get the lay of the land, not make a move before you have to. So, in my infirmary, you'd get a picture of how things are going, who seems to be coming out on top. And if you wanted to help bring it to a quick end then, I couldn't put a stop to it. Could earn some jingle, for you, for my services." I focus my eyes on her. "As long as it's swift. Decisive. Not dragging things out more than absolutely necessary, because that's when those that shouldn't get hurt suffer." I shrug. "Or maybe you don't care about any of that. But maybe you do. There's some good people in Thames. They don't need this."

"And besides. You strike me as someone who's out in the world to do something." I smile, only the smallest movement of the corner of my mouth. "Always good to have a place you can return to to patch up your wounds. Even better to have someone else do it for you. Even better to have that someone be who knows what he's doing, and maybe even positively inclined to you." Another pause, and I look out towards where the others are, still gathered around the corpse that started all this. "So, what do you say?"

Tricky
Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage




Cool -1 | Hard +3 | Hot -2 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2
Harm 0:00 | Experience: 1/5 | 1-barter

I bit back a laugh and barely managed to keep a straight face. Oh, he was one of those. The idealists. The ones that didn't realize they were a bad day away from absolute annihilation. There were things in this world that would make any turf war look like a child's squabble. I had seen what was left in the wake of that. Well, that's fine. I wasn't going to be here forever. Might as well do my best to leave it standing. Might need a favor. And, oddly enough, I did like the people around here. Some of them, anyways.

I looked at Abel and cocked an eyebrow, "I get your point. I'll be neutral. I'll even help you protect your clinic." I hefted the rifle up on my shoulder, the rain running down the dulled metal. "We'll call this a favor, but you're gonna get what you pay for. If it gets too hot and you're not going to patch me up when the shooting stops, I'm gone. If I need to restock bullets and other supplies, I'm finding work that pays. If you want to make it more formal, feel free to make an offer later." I pulled the hood tighter over my head as the rain started dripping down into my eyes. "Look, you seem alright. I'm not trying to hustle you here. Diego was my meal ticket and he didn't pay before he went swimming for the sharks. Jingle is tight."

My attention turned back towards the rest of the group, scanning over the scene. Monsoon and Lyric were looking close. Wonder what that was about. Iris was spooky as ever. I walked over to the body and swiped a finger through the blood and salty water, then licked it clean. The taste of salt and iron filled my mouth, primal instincts roaring to life deep within. The Hunt called me. There was a familiar taste alongside the obvious, a familiar smell. My eyes closed as I worked to make sense of it all.

quote:

[12:40:59] <Tricky> Twilight opens her brain
[12:41:01] <Tricky> !r 2d6+2
[12:41:02] <Krysmbot> Tricky, 7+2 =
9

megane
Jun 20, 2008



Iris, the Maelstrom rumbles between your ears, its silent voice making your teeth hurt. "He stares at his bloody fingers. Wet. Unclean. He shivers and weeps." The stench of blood fills your nostrils as it speaks, and you nearly fall to your knees, retching. Is it this bad every time you call out to the Maelstrom?

Twilight, hm, that taste... under the salt and the blood... apples? Is this the scent of your prey? How strange... When was the last time you tasted a human's blood?

Tricky
Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage




Cool -1 | Hard +3 | Hot -2 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2
Harm 0:00 | Experience: 1/5 | 1-barter

The taste of blood always brought back memories. The last time it had crossed my lips had to have been when I crossed the Glass Spires. Supplies aren't easily available there. Animals know better than to live there. The water pools are toxic. Some sort of contamination on the glass. I was halfway across when a group of bandits thought that I would be an easy mark. I'll give them this. I was suffering from dehydration. But jumping me? That had been the last mistake they ever made. One of them did manage to slip a blade between ribs while we fought. I don't remember much of what had happened after that. I was consumed by the Hunt. When I came back to my senses I was surrounded by scraps of meat and gore. Discarded knives and scraps of cloth. No blood on the glass, but my lips were stained red.

Yet it wasn't just blood. There was something more. Something sweet.

Apples. Of course. Payne's bar wasn't far from here. The Hunt had never steered me wrong before. I wasn't exactly welcome there, though, and that might make pursuing my prey difficult. I could slaughter my way through his guards with ease, but that would serve only to muddle the trail. No, this would require a more subtle touch. Iris. As much as I hated to admit it, Abel was right. There were good people in this town. Diego had been one of them. I wasn't under any contract for this. This was personal.

I approached the woman, "The Maelstrom is restless today, but I think I have a lead. Interested in getting to the bottom of this?"

Tricky fucked around with this message at Nov 14, 2016 around 00:16

Heliotrope
Aug 17, 2007

Oh, don't worry, don't worry!

It's not my blood.



Cool +1 | Hard -2 | Hot-1 | Sharp +2 | Weird +2
Harm: 0:00 | XP: 0/5 | Barter: 6

I fall to the ground, coughing and gagging on the scent of blood. The umbrella hits the sand besides me as I try to get the smell out of my head. It's usually not this bad when I talk to the Maelstrom. This must be a very, very bad situation. Forecast for the rest of the day isn't looking so great I suppose. I look up to see Twilight approaching. I grab my umbrella, and slowly stand back up. "Yes, I would like to know what's going on. Preferably before word gets out and things get chaotic." I move my eyes to Abel, and Noah out in the crowd. "But first I must take care of something. Shouldn't be too long."

Leaving Twilight behind, I walk over to Abel. I give him a quick wave to get his attention, and then once I'm close I say my piece. "Your assistant Noah has been lurking near my house for a while now. Get him to stop doing that, or I'll have to deal with him."

SHY NUDIST GRRL
Feb 15, 2011

Communism will help more white people than anyone else. Any equal measures unfairly provide less to minority populations just because there's less of them. Democracy is truly the tyranny of the mob.



Cool+1 Hard-1 Hot+2 Sharp+1 Weird=0
Harm 0:00 xp 1/5 Barter 1

one barter for lifestyle

It seems I cannot escape trouble today. I was looking for materials on the beach. Typically muscles to mash into paste I can use for ink. On a good day I can find a beached squid. But today wasn't a good day. I rushed out eager for the excuse. I didn't even grab a coat. Naturally, during the heaviest rainfall in months. Oh well. Nearly my entire body is inked, I can handle the sky's needles no problem. I am not like that waif Salt with the padded shoulders in her tux. Her look is fantastic of course. I just try to be more practical about mine. A simple hakama. Also a pair of sleeves to tease them, can't show too much or they won't really appreciate the art. Tough material so I don't have to waste jingle replacing it. That's where Salt goes wrong. She's like a thin paper canvas. It doesn't matter how pretty the paint is if anything can punch a hole through it. Ugh, drying all this off is going to be a pain. It always is.

Why I even put myself in this mess was because that sand freak was bugging me again. I got better things to do than get bent out of shape over the rain. I've been around people who kill over dumb poo poo all my life and those fuckers are the dumbest. I don't want them thinking I tolerate their nonsense for a minute. I know what happens to apostates. They want me to decorate their main temple. But I'm going to need more than spiritual rewards. Funds are getting a little tight. And they'll probably get all anusy when I bring in buckets of ink. The dude started the shpeel about the importance of the duty being offered to me and all the other crap I don't care about so I just walked out. Let the head honchos themselves show up if its so drat important I draw their dumb rear end sand plains.

And the final insult to this injury is Lyric starts giving the eye to what's her name. That girl in the hot pants or whatever. I don't really like minimalism. She's showing off... nothing. Well I guess she does have a nice body. Hrrn. Well she's just a blank canvas of nice material then. With less than half a frame to belabor the metaphor for her fashion sense too. Regardless I'm going to see what Lyric's angle is. She has an angle right?

I saunter over to my girl. "Fancy meeting you here. Finally some good news today." My smile is a bit strained and I have to brush the wet hair out of my face. "You're not too busy are you? I need somewhere to dry off... and warm up." I hold myself and shiver, pouting at her. It's just an innocent look for the stranger, but Lyric should know that I don't give it lightly.

Puppy dog eyes 9. Offering XP to keep Monsoon at arm's length, or deal with angry girlfriend

quote:

Inque


Woman, display wear, striking face, dark eyes, steady hands, toned body


Cool+1 Hard-1 Hot+2 Sharp+1 Weird=0


Artful & gracious: when you perform your chosen art—any act of expression or culture—or when you put its product before an audience, roll+hot. On a 10+, spend 3. On a 7–9, spend 1. Spend 1 to name an NPC member of your audience and choose one:
• is person must meet me.
• is person must have my services.
• is person loves me.
• is person must give me a gift.
• is person admires my patron. On a miss, you gain no benefit, but suffer no harm or lost opportunity. You simply perform very well.


An arresting skinner: when you remove a piece of clothing, your own or someone else’s, no one who can see you can do anything but watch. You command their absolute attention. If you choose, you can exempt individual people, by name.


If you and another character have sex, choose one: • You take +1 forward and so do they. • You take +1 forward; they take -1. • ey must give you a gift worth at least 1-barter. • You can hypnotize them as though you’d rolled a 10+, even if you haven’t chosen to get the move.


ornate dagger (2-harm hand valuable)
spectacular tattoos (implanted)
antique coins (worn valuable) Drilled with holes for jewelry.
2 barter


Go around again for Hx. On your turn, ask 1, 2, or all 3: • Which one of you is my friend? For that character, write Hx+2. • Which one of you is my lover? For that character, write Hx+1. • Which one of you is in love with me? For that character, write Hx-1. For everyone else, write Hx+1 or Hx-1, as you choose.

SHY NUDIST GRRL fucked around with this message at Nov 16, 2016 around 03:30

GodFish
Oct 10, 2012

We're your first, last, and only line of defense. We live in secret. We exist in shadow.

And we dress in black.



Cool +3 | Hard -1 | Hot +2 | Sharp =0 | Weird -1
Harm 0:00 | Exp 1/5 | Barter 2

2 Barter on my lifestyle.

The rain doesn't bother me none. The corpse neither, aside from the fact that it's Deigo's. Sharkbait here and I had gambled last night, and he lost big, and he was going to pay up by giving me one of his old treasures. There's an old cache of something stored up from the Dry Days, located in the area near Butcher's Bay, sealed up tighter than the Desert Preists keep their temples, and the location is kept just as secret. I've been interested in it for years now, and finally worked out that Diego had had the map. No way he'd be able to get in, forget the seal, those old timers left their stashes guarded too well for the types of people who live here. So he's got the map, but now he's too dead to tell me where it was. I'm going to have to loot through his place I guess. As for who takes over the town... that isn't really my concern. As long as they don't stop the booze from flowing, it's cool.

I nudge Sharkbait's corpse with my foot, then bend down and pluck the hat off his head and straighten up, brushing the sand, seaweed and one of the little darter crabs off it, then place it down on my head. Walking away from his body, I flip out my knife to giving my reflection on the blade a critical inspection. Not bad. I think the hat suits me. So does Lyric, from sell she's trying to give me. Hmm. She's not really my type, a little too dull, a little too focused on her machines, not enough fire in her, but her hinted offer isn't unappealing, her face is pretty enough when she cleans the grease off, and her breath on my face and the look in her eyes is doing some work as well. "My talents? Well, I am good with my hands..." I reach my hand around to the small of her back, pulling her closer to my dripping body, smiling. "I could spare some time to help..."

Agreeing for Exp

My smile just gets larger as Inque comes over, she's together with Lyric, isn't she? Such an odd pairing, the mechanic is boring for someone as dazzling as Inque, but maybe this'll work out to my advantage. "I was just agreeing to help Lyric with a mechanical problem of hers... why not come along? The work should go by faster, and three bodies are bound to be more interesting than two..." She gets a wink to go along with the smile.

[18:56:58] <GodFish> seduce Inque
[18:57:00] <GodFish> !r 2d6+2
[18:57:01] <Krysmbot> GodFish, 4+2 = 6
want Inque to go along with Lyric's 'payment' and join in.


[18:59:11] <Trickier> Twilight is helping Monsoon out
[18:59:15] <Trickier> !r 2d6+2
[18:59:16] <Krysmbot> Trickier, 12+2 = 14
[18:59:19] <GodFish> :O
[18:59:24] <Trickier> :v
[18:59:31] <Trickier> make that an 8 :v


quote:


Name: Lady Monsoon
Look: woman, not enough clothes, striking face, merciless eyes, sweet body
Stats: Cool +3, Hard -1, Hot +2, Sharp =0, Weird -1

Moves
Impossible reflexes: the way you move unencumbered counts as armor. If you’re naked or nearly naked, 2-armor; if you’re wearing non-armor fashion, 1-armor. If you’re wearing armor, use it instead.
Dangerous & sexy: when you enter into a charged situation, roll+hot. On a 10+, hold 2. On a 7–9, hold 1. Spend your hold 1 for 1 to make eye contact with an NPC present, who freezes or flinches and can’t take action until you break it off. On a miss, your enemies identify you immediately as their foremost threat.

Battlebabe Special
If you and another character have sex, nullify the other character’s sex move. Whatever it is, it just doesn’t happen.

Gear
Thunder: Big Hi-powered Handgun (3-harm, close, far, reload, loud)
Lightning: Butterfly Knife (antique blade handle [2-harm, hand, valuable])
Oddments (4 barter), trinkets, old coins, monster remains (teeth, shells, etc) - generally worn on necklaces
Fashion - barely anything: shorts, bikini tops, gun belt
Hx
Inque: +3 (shouldn't trust)
Twilight: +3 (shouldn’t trust)
Iris: +3 (shouldn't trust)
Lyric: -1 (trustworthy)
Abel: -1 (trustworthy)

GodFish fucked around with this message at Nov 14, 2016 around 03:29

Tricky
Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage




Cool -1 | Hard +3 | Hot -2 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2
Harm 0:00 | Experience: 1/5 | 1-barter

I nodded as Iris went off to talk to Abel. Fair enough. I wanted to figure out what this scene between Inque, Monsoon, and Lyric was all about. I, uh, kind of liked all of them. To various degrees. Inque was fun to shoot the poo poo with after a rough day on the hunt. Monsoon was drat good in a fight. And Lyric? Man, she was something else. Some of the poo poo she came up with was crazy.

I stomped over the wet beach sand just in time to hear Inque and Monsoon trading barbs. I snorted, "C'mon, Inque, you know Lyric isn't going to leave you out in the wet like that. Besides, this lady has some moves. If she's as good outside a fight as she is in one?" I winked at Inque. "Might be worth checking them out... first-hand."

quote:

[17:58:41] <Trickier> Twilight is helping Monsoon out
[17:58:45] <Trickier> !r 2d6+2
[17:58:48] <Krysmbot> Trickier, 12+2 =
14
[17:58:51] <GodFish> :O

+2 to her roll, factored in above.

Tardzilla
Aug 31, 2006




Hard =0 | Cool -2 | Hot +1 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2
Harm 0:00 | Experience: 1/5 | 5-barter

Ah.

The beach has become a lot more... crowded. First, my Songbird, and now, the Noisemaker. Bring Inque along? Hm, that would be a problem. Their wave-lengths clash, and it might make healing the lift a little more difficult. Oh, but I can never say no to her when she gives me that look~

I smile, "Good, then it's agreed," I slip past the Lady's hands, and give her a poke on her nose, "You will aid me, and I will give you a bag of jingles for your troubles. Now, if you'll excuse me..." I make my way to Inque, and throw my arms around her and give her a kiss on her wet lips, "Hello, my Songbird." I stroke her cheeks with my finger. "I apologize for not greeting you sooner. Busy day, lots on my mind, you understand, yes? And yes, I am busy, unfortunately. If you wish, you may join us. Three heads are better than one or two, as they say!"

Tardzilla fucked around with this message at Nov 14, 2016 around 05:42

SHY NUDIST GRRL
Feb 15, 2011

Communism will help more white people than anyone else. Any equal measures unfairly provide less to minority populations just because there's less of them. Democracy is truly the tyranny of the mob.



Cool+1 Hard-1 Hot+2 Sharp+1 Weird=0
Harm 0:00 xp 1/5 Barter 1

I am caught off guard by her boldness. I think I even blush when Twilight gives me that ribbing. She really shouldn't butt in and joke about such things, people will get the wrong idea about her interests. But then Lyric makes everything better.

Hmm yes, that's right. I pull her in tightly. She is mine. "I will be happy to join you." I glance at Monsoon. "It seems you've made an interesting friend. I hope she doesn't demand too much jingle from you. She seems to have expensive tastes. ...But I'm sure we can satisfy her." My interest is piqued. I'll have to see if this woman is worth my time.

Agreeing to not lose xp. Inque will join in on the payment, if that's what it ends up being.

megane
Jun 20, 2008



The discussion is broken by a commanding voice, which you quickly identify as that of First Mate. "Right, everybody, show's over, clear out!" She strides up the beach in her big-rear end combat boots, flanked by a coupla shotgun-toting heavies -- Lizzy and Number Eight. Their boat is pulled up a ways down the beach; they must have landed while you were talking. "We're all devastated by the loss of our beloved leader etcetera etcetera but for now, get yerselves back indoors where it's safe. We'll handle this." Lizzy and Number Eight position themselves -- respectfully, of course -- in front of the Captain's corpse and make it clear they're not gonna move anytime soon.

Smoke nods at First Mate and gives a sharp gesture for her own crew to make ready to go. The other rubberneckers aren't about to tangle with a shouting authority figure, let alone a pair of shotguns, so they start to disperse, muttering amongst themselves about what a shame it is to lose ol' Diego that way. Sparks has, of course, vanished -- maybe to make a report?

megane fucked around with this message at Nov 14, 2016 around 05:50

Heliotrope
Aug 17, 2007

Oh, don't worry, don't worry!

It's not my blood.



Cool +1 | Hard -2 | Hot-1 | Sharp +2 | Weird +2
Harm: 0:00 | XP: 0+1/5 | Barter: 6

I was hoping Abel would get a chance to respond, but then First Mate barges in and starts taking control of the situation. "Just letting you know," I say to Abel and then turn my attention to the situation going on there. I can sense there's something hidden here...my eyes begin flickering around, trying to catch and piece together all the details of this puzzle.

[01:10] <Heliotrope> Read A Sitch
[01:10] <Heliotrope> !r 2d6+2
[01:10] <Krysmbot> Heliotrope, 7+2 = 9
Going to ask "What should I be on the lookout for?"
Marking XP

Tricky
Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage




Cool -1 | Hard +3 | Hot -2 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2
Harm 0:00 | Experience: 1/5 | 1-barter

I walked back toward the body, stopping short of the two heavies. I looked over at First Mate. Certainly a little odd for the newfound ruler of Thames to be so late to her own coronation. The Hunt was pulling me towards the High Tide, but I couldn't well let the chance to chat with the lady with the most to gain slip through my fingers. Something fishy about it all. And, hell, might as well figure out where we were on the shark contract while I was at it.

I said, "Hell of a day for a death. Sorry 'bout your boss, First Mate. It ain't really the time for it, I know, but are we still on for that shark contract?" I indicated the body. "Cause it looks like you all still have a bit of shark problem."

quote:

[21:01:36] <Tricky> Twilight is going to read First Mate
[21:01:39] <Tricky> !r 2d6+1
[21:01:43] <Krysmbot> Tricky, 7+1 =
8

What is First Mate really feeling?

megane
Jun 20, 2008



Iris, you take particular notice of Sparks' absence. He's going to tell the Drowned Men, of course, but knowing Sparks, he's also going to tell everybody. The kid couldn't keep a secret to save his loving life. You suspect there'll be more than one gang or faction in town sitting down quick-like to discuss their options.

"Oh, it's you. Call yourself... Twilight, right?" First Mate sighs exasperatedly. She's putting on like she's tough and important, but you can see in her eyes how worried and nervous she is. "Can we... maybe talk about yer contract tomorrow? I know it's important to you, but I've... kinda got a lot to deal with right now," she says, glancing down at the Captain. "Timing's bad for all of us."

GodFish
Oct 10, 2012

We're your first, last, and only line of defense. We live in secret. We exist in shadow.

And we dress in black.



Cool +3 | Hard -1 | Hot +2 | Sharp =0 | Weird -1
Harm 0:00 | Exp 1/5 | Barter 2

Lyric's diversion is a little annoying, now that I'd come up with a plan to work Inque into it and let me have a chance at her inked up skin, and I'm not exactly hired labor for repairs, but I'll go along with it. This looks like a chance to get closer to Inque, and getting Lyric into a favorable mindset might be useful depending on what this cache is like if I ever do find the map. "Quite expensive. But from the look of things the two of you should have what it takes... Now then," I glance back at First Mate and the others arriving, "shall we move onto this repair job, or do you have business here left to attend to?" I adjust my new hat to a slightly better angle. Claiming the Captaincy is an idea that idly tempts me, but that sounds like too much responsibility.

Heliotrope
Aug 17, 2007

Oh, don't worry, don't worry!

It's not my blood.



Cool +1 | Hard -2 | Hot-1 | Sharp +2 | Weird +2
Harm: 0:00 | XP: 1/5 | Barter: 6

Oh great. Either me and Twilight need to hurry, or we need to find some way to minimize the damage. I know it wasn't a great experience just a short while ago, but if we're going to get to the bottom of this before poo poo hits the fan...

I invite the Maelstorm back in. "Please, be a bit gentler this time," I murmur as it comes in like an often invited house guest. "I need to get to Sparks ASAP. You wouldn't happen to be able to help me out, would you?"

[01:44] <Heliotrope> Open Your Brain
[01:44] <Heliotrope> !r 2d6+3
[01:44] <Krysmbot> Heliotrope, 9+3 = 12

Tricky
Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage




Cool -1 | Hard +3 | Hot -2 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2
Harm 0:00 | Experience: 1/5 | 1-barter

I nodded, doing my best to look understanding, "Sure, I'll drop on by. I'll be bunking down at Abel's clinic for the next few days. That'll be where to find me if anything comes up."

That conversation left me feeling a little relieved. Her words betrayed a nervousness that seemed unlikely from the mastermind behind a coup. If I had done something like this, I wouldn't have let word get out until I was ready to take on all comers. Toss the captain overboard? A rookie mistake, not the kind that First Mate seemed likely to make. She might even pay me to hunt the goddamn sharks, which would be a huge win. My stash from Greendream was running dry and Abel wasn't exactly willing to throw any my way.

I walked back towards Iris, "You take care of your business?"

Tardzilla
Aug 31, 2006




Hard =0 | Cool -2 | Hot +1 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2
Harm 0:00 | Experience: 1/5 | 5-barter

I tilt my head sideways and look at them both quizzically. I had thought jingle would be enough to satisfy her needs? What else could there be that I could provide her? There is not much, other tha- "Ah!" I clap my hands together as I have a moment of realization, "Yes! Now I understand! You require more than just payment! An extra service from me, maybe? Yes, I can provide this for you!" I get close to the Lady's face, with an expression of excitement, and bring up one finger, "One free piece of service! No charge! That should satisfy, yes?"

"Now," I grab their hands and pull them forward, "There is no time to waste! They are screaming, and they need our help! Let us go!"

nil.
Nov 11, 2012



Cool +1 | Hard +0 | Hot +1 | Sharp +2 | Weird -1
Harm: 0:00 | XP: 2/5 | Angel Kit: 6/6 | Barter: 1

"Sure. That's more than fair." I nod at Twilight - she seems reasonable enough. Now to see whether she'll stick to her promise. One the one hand, her kind and, I wager, her in particular usually tend to keep their contracts - it's just good business - but on the other hand, I'm not really paying, so, it'd be fair not to call it a contract. It's always about the jingle, and like Twilight said, jingle's tight. She leaves to join the others. I wish some rich bastard would have gotten the hives and paid out of his nose for me to take care of it, then I wouldn't have that worry on my plate and actually work on something important. I wish Captain Diego hadn't gotten himself killed, starting off this whole mess. I wish whoever killed him would have had the grace to-

Iris approaches me. That umbrella should make her look ridiculous, but it does not, it just makes her stand out. It's all about how you carry it. I quickly go through my head and try to figure out how she might fit into this whole thing, how she might be able to help me keep control of the situation, or how she might mess all of it up. Is that what she wants to talk about? No. drat it, Noah. I want to pinch the bridge of my nose, but I don't. That boy. Just another thing on my plate. "I'll talk to him, Iris. Just don't go doing anything permanent to him, alright? I still need his help in the infirmary." For a moment, I look towards the sky, a rolling dark mess of angry downpour. "He's young. Just.. start out by telling him you're not interested, okay? Anyway, the way things are going, he's going to be too busy to pursue anything private for some time."

That's when First Mate and two of her heavies arrive - word must have gotten around. It's debatable whether First Mate's... first instinct should have been to come here or whether she should be projecting force somewhere else. Ah well. Parallel to that, there seems to be some kind of mingle between Monsoon, Lyric and Inque brewing, and I think I can pick up the general undercurrent of the conversation. I manage not to roll my eyes. Though really, it would at least keep them out of trouble for the time being, like a drunk with a full bottle, so it could be worse. Still, I can't be picky - I may have Twilight on my side, but I can't just hole up in my infirmary with no reach outside. That's a deadly tactical situation. I need boots on the ground, out there.

Hm. Listen to me. Still thinking like I'm back in the Legionnaires. No, like I was leading the Legionnaires.

I walk over to them, Twilight having joined them just a second ago. "Inque. Lyric. ...Monsoon." I give each of them a nod. "Sharks in the water today." I glance over to Diego's corpse, and I think I make it pretty clear I don't just mean it literally.

"Lyric, I'm looking into extending my infirmary. Something to grow more of a specific specimen. Fungus. It'd need to be humid, closed off, warm, that kind of thing." There's been a respiratory infection going around, fungus in the lungs. Only the ones infected show some interesting symptoms - not just bad ones, that is. One of my patients was a fisherman who fell into the water, was sucked under. The others thought he was dead for sure, because after staying underwater for more than 10 minutes you kind of assume someone's done for. But he surfaces, and he was able to hold his breath the entire time! He still died later, of course, from the infection - which is when I found the fungus in his lungs. But if that can be used... "I was thinking of you because, well, you're the one to talk to about that kind of thing and because the project I'm working on..." I make a weighing hand gesture. "...I think it goes along with what you're working on." She's working on some kind of boat, but for moving under the sea. Which is all well and good, but if you can't get out underwater, I don't see the great use of it. Stealthy approach to another hardhold, but, the sea's big already. "Come by my infirmary if you want to discuss it."

"Hi, Inque." We actually go way back. Way more back than I'd prefer, really, because she was around when I still was a raider. Inked up the other Legionnaires. May have even done the tattoo on my arm, I don't remember. I was pretty high when I got it. "If you got the time, see me. Could use your help in the near future." She's already used to working with living flesh without damaging it - and she knows how I work, and both of those are way more than I can say about most of the people in Thames. "Might meet some new customers for you, we can double up on disinfecting alcohol. And, if you don't have the time... keep your ear on the ground for me, will you?" I smile. I know I'm betting a lot of goodwill this morning, but what am I going to do? I got no jingle to give and nobody is bleeding out yet. Besides, it doesn't hurt to ask.

And then my eyes fall on Monsoon, just because I talked to everyone else already. A moment passes, in which I consider telling her to stay out of trouble before telling myself how pointless that'd be, for both of us. "You know where to find me, right? I'm pretty sure you'll know when to find me." I shrug. The implication is clear: She's going to get into trouble, and messed up, and that's where I come in.

I hold up a hand for Twilight - I couldn't get rid of that habit even if I wanted to - and walk over to First Mate, and my last stop in getting in touch with everyone for now. I keep a bit of a distance, she brought two heavies with shotguns, after all, so that's as clear a sign there can be that some distance is expected. "Some way to start the morning." I nod towards the late Diego, without really looking at him. Some measure of respect, I guess. I let a few seconds pass in silence. "It's a shame. You'll probably have your hands full soon enough, so I won't hold you up. One question, though." I look her in the eye, and try to figure out what she's thinking. I don't think she's behind this - or if she is, she's incompetent. Which might actually be worse than someone competent. "Are you interested in... how it happened?" I don't say 'who did it'. Besides, that's not the only thing I am interested in. I want to know what she's planning - or whether she has any plans at all. I need to play this smart, and for that, I need to know what is really going on.

<nilPhone> Abel Read Person (First Mate)
<nil_> !r 2d6+2
<Krysmbot> nil_, 5+2 = 7
1 Hold, spending hold right away on "What does your character intend to do?".
Marking XP from Sharp.

nil. fucked around with this message at Nov 14, 2016 around 09:05

megane
Jun 20, 2008



Iris, your vision twists and darkens as the voice pounds through your veins, pumping its way into your brain. You steady yourself -- what happened? -- but the feeling fades. You hurry to catch a ride on Smoke's boat. You see the waves roll past, thinking about Sparks looping round on foot to the floating bridge. You step onto the soggy wood of the pier. You walk to the little boat Sparks shares with his sister. You wait and hear the water. You hear Sparks come in. You step behind him. You drive your knife into his eye, and feel the oozing warmth on your fingers. You smell the iron. You hear Sparks' sister scream. You're happy. You snkkkknnnnnnnn n n n n n nap out of it, gasping. Back on the beach, oh god, you're still on the beach. gently caress, but your head hurts! Number Eight's staring down at you, lookin' deeply concerned. What were you - your body, that is - doing while... while all that was happening? "Uh... you okay there ma'am?" he asks.

Abel, you've earned a little respect, of course, so First Mate nods hollowly as you're talking -- annoyed that you're still here, but unwilling to be rude to the town's doc. But when you mention the cause of death, she tenses up all of a sudden, her eyes narrowing. She grabs your shoulder to pull you away from Twilight and leans in with a quick, threatening whisper: "Not here. Not here!" Her eyes flick round to make sure nobody's eavesdropping. "Come talk to me later on my boat and we'll discuss... that. Until then, keep yer f- uh, keep it between us, right? No need for spreadin' any rumors, specially not the kinda rumors that cause a big panic. I can count on you, can't I, doc?" The words or else hang in the air.

"As for the rest of you, I said clear out and I meant it!" she snaps irritably. Looks like you just wore out the last of her patience.

megane fucked around with this message at Nov 14, 2016 around 19:26

SHY NUDIST GRRL
Feb 15, 2011

Communism will help more white people than anyone else. Any equal measures unfairly provide less to minority populations just because there's less of them. Democracy is truly the tyranny of the mob.



Cool+1 Hard-1 Hot+2 Sharp+1 Weird=0
Harm 0:00 xp 1/5 Barter 1

I'm honestly a little floored by how bad Lyric is at this. It's cute when she's flailing at me but I'm embarrassed for her. I squeeze her hand as she drags me. "Don't go offering her a bonus before she's even done the job. Honestly I don't know how you survive sometimes." I eye Monsoon. "If she wants something other than salvage that should be all she gets." It's a good thing I'm stepping in. My poor girl might have been taken advantage of. Now I might save her some crap.

nil.
Nov 11, 2012



Cool +1 | Hard +0 | Hot +1 | Sharp +2 | Weird -1
Harm: 0:00 | XP: 2/5 | Angel Kit: 6/6 | Barter: 1

Looks like I either hit a nerve and am getting somewhere or just stepped into a nest of mud stingers barefoot. One or the other, or, really, probably both at the same time. First Mate knows that something isn't right with how Diego died, though the question is whether that's because she knows who did it - or suspects - or because she knows the kind of trouble everyone talking about the murdered boss can cause. Either way, I don't take any offence at her grabbing me and speaking to me in that threatening tone of voice. It's understandable, really, and it's clear to me she's not feeling as much in control as she wants to. Of course, people that don't feel in control having access to shotguns and a bunch of idiots that know even less to order around is a dangerous combination. To the people of Thames and maybe me in particular. But one step at a time.

For now, I just listen to what she has to say and then, after a moment, with a voice more calm than hers, reply. "Of course, First Mate." I almost ruin the effect by breaking out into a grin at her stopping herself from saying 'loving'. "Thames doesn't need any kind of panic." I disentangle myself from her and for the final time, my eyes are almost, but not quite, drawn towards Diego's mangled remains. "Sharks in the water."

I turn around, to finally make my way back to the infirmary, hopefully with Twilight, help her get settled, talk to Noah and Maya about the situation - and talk to Noah about the Iris situation - board up the windows so there's only one point of entry and... Hm. I raise my eyebrow. Iris is on the ground, in front of one of First Mate's men, and I'm guessing it's not intentional. I motion to First Mate's man - Number Eight, that's his name - that I'll take care of it, then get onto my haunches to help Iris back up. Figure she won't complain about my hands messing up her dress, what with rolling around in the wet sand of the beach already. "Up you go, Iris." I steady her with an arm around her shoulder, but stop and bend down when I see something that fell on the ground. "Dropped your umbrella. Here you go."

We slowly move forward, and I give Twilight a signal with my eyes that it's time to leave - as if First Mate left any doubt about that. "How're you feeling, Iris? Now I know you're going to tell me it's fine and all according to the Maelstrom, but are you sure you don't want me to get a look at you?" Because I had on my table someone who said they saw things too - I had him on my table after he died, of course - and it turns out there was this growth as big as a baby's fist inside their skull. And besides, I know that Iris is both sharp and connected, and not to forget, very much not as lacking in jingle as me and Twilight. That could be put to good use. Not that I'm contemplating ripping her off, of course. "Or we could chat for a bit on the way back. I get the feeling the time to talk is now." And the time to act, when it's too late to talk - that comes soon.

nil. fucked around with this message at Nov 18, 2016 around 13:44

Heliotrope
Aug 17, 2007

Oh, don't worry, don't worry!

It's not my blood.



Cool +1 | Hard -2 | Hot-1 | Sharp +2 | Weird +2
Harm: 0:00 | XP: 0+1/5 | Barter: 6

"Thanks for the advice, but I think I'll deal with this my way," I murmur to the Maelstrom as things come back into focus. Then I realize that Abel is talking to me, saying...something. "Huh? Oh, yeah, no everything's fine." Looks like he wants to go along with Twilight too. "We need to get on Smoke's boat and head to Spark's house. He was here, and he's going to start talking about what happened. If we want some more time before everyone finds out, maybe we should deal with him first."

Tricky
Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage




Cool -1 | Hard +3 | Hot -2 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2
Harm 0:00 | Experience: 1/5 | 1-barter

poo poo. Sparks. I had forgotten about that rat in all the excitement. My fingers settle on the handle of my machete. It wouldn't be the first time he had acted without thinking. It may be his last. My mouth tightened, "Yeah. We should probably head that off. Buy some extra time for us all to prepare for the chaos to come. I have a feeling that the storm is going to get worse before it gets better."

GodFish
Oct 10, 2012

We're your first, last, and only line of defense. We live in secret. We exist in shadow.

And we dress in black.



Cool +3 | Hard -1 | Hot +2 | Sharp =0 | Weird -1
Harm 0:00 | Exp 1/5 | Barter 2

"Yeah yeah, lets go." Lyric's offer isn't what I was looking for, but it's not bad either, but Inque is getting irritating. Make up your mind already.

Heliotrope
Aug 17, 2007

Oh, don't worry, don't worry!

It's not my blood.



Cool +1 | Hard -2 | Hot-1 | Sharp +2 | Weird +2
Harm: 0:00 | XP: 1/5 | Barter: 6

My eyes follow Twilight's fingers. "I was thinking a less lethal solution actually."

Tricky
Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage




Cool -1 | Hard +3 | Hot -2 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2
Harm 0:00 | Experience: 1/5 | 1-barter

A feral grin spread across my face, "Oh, don't worry. We can try to talk it out. But honestly? He's not exactly prone to good judgment. Hell, he tried to jump me when I first got to Thames. We might have to rough him up a bit to get the message across."

Heliotrope
Aug 17, 2007

Oh, don't worry, don't worry!

It's not my blood.



Cool +1 | Hard -2 | Hot-1 | Sharp +2 | Weird +2
Harm: 0:00 | XP: 1/5 | Barter: 6

"I might have slightly less lethal means we could try out first. We'll see how it goes I suppose." I motion to Smoke as I walk over. "Hey Smoke! Just wondering if me and my associates here could get a lift?"

nil.
Nov 11, 2012



Cool +1 | Hard +0 | Hot +1 | Sharp +2 | Weird -1
Harm: 0:00 | XP: 2/5 | Angel Kit: 6/6 | Barter: 1

Well, it was worth a try. As long as people can pick themselves up again after a minute or two, they always think they don't need me to treat them. Of course, once they can't stop coughing up blood or what have you, they reconsider, only by that time it may already be too late. But, that's not in my hand. I release Iris, keeping my hand on her shoulder for just a moment - to test whether she actually can stand, don't want her landing in the sand again right away. "Like you say." Seems Iris has something to say though, no doubt brought on by what just happened. The 'maelstrom'. Well, even if that thing is really a thing, it's not impartial. It has an agenda. Though of course that may just be Iris, whether she realizes it or not. If I wanted to take orders from something that can't talk sense, won't explain their reasons and has more than a little taste for the bloody I could sign up with any number of drat maddened cult priests out there in the nothing. I'd even have the choice between it being cannibalistic or not.

Of course, inspiration has an animal, irrational quality of its own, and if you're moving through life without any inspiration, neither you nor what you do never amount to anything. So I'd be a fool to dismiss all of it out of hand - just like with everything else, I'll need to keep my wits about me and my gun close by, just in case. Especially if the 'maelstrom' suggests some unexplained acts of violence and... I suppress my sigh. Of course. Iris wants to go after some idiot called Sparks. Doesn't he run with the Drowned Men?

To complicate matters further, it seems like Iris and Twilight already have some sort of agreement and are planning to head out together, which will leave the infirmary undefended for the time being. Iris implies that Sparks knows something about what happened to Diego, but is that really that important? Diego's dead, and if someone wants to take advantage of that, they'll make it clear soon enough. Still, if he does know something, it'd be worth knowing, but I can't go off like that on a hunch from who knows where. Not when there's so much else going on. Judging by Twilight's take on things, the meeting with Sparks may turn ugly anyway, and I best don't add to the mound of troubles we all may be in soon enough. Not without justification, anyway.

"I won't be coming along for that, I have things to take care of, at the infirmary." I give Twilight a look, to remind her of our agreement - though I don't push it too hard, seeing as how most of it is based on goodwill. "Just a word of advice: If that idiot knows something of worth, he's going to be useless if he's not in a position to tell anyone any more." I shrug. "If you learn something, I'd be interested, of course. Iris, you can point out my place to our newcomer here, right?" Seems like Smoke is our ride out of here, and I'm ready to get back to the infirmary while there is still time. For just a moment, I hold up a fist to Twilight and Iris, that mock salute I can't get rid of. "Take care."

nil. fucked around with this message at Nov 18, 2016 around 13:41

Tardzilla
Aug 31, 2006




Hard =0 | Cool -2 | Hot +1 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2
Harm 0:00 | Experience: 2/5 | 5-barter

The Doctor's proposal has piqued my interest. He thinks he can add to my undersea ship? Interesting! I do not know what kind of music he may provide, but perhaps he might provide me with the missing key that has eluded me for so long? "Yes! Yes!" I shake my head, enthusiastically, "I would like to hear what you have to say! Let us discuss details after I am done with my healing!"

--

"Stand a little closer. No! Not that close! Further. A little further."

I direct the Lady around the broken lift. It is important that she stand at the exact right spot, so The Metal can feel her aura. I need it to be calm, so that I could listen. So I know how to help it. Thankfully, we're in the lower decks, where they keep all the storage supplies, meaning it is just us three, and nobody else. There is no-one who could disrupt the process.

I feel a bit of guilt for making my Songbird wait, but I have made it known that I will make it up to her. Maybe with jingle? Ah, but she has chided me before for giving it away so freely. I should think of another way after this is all done.

"Good, now, turn slightly to the right. Yes! That is the spot! Now, please make sure you stay still for a few seconds. This won't take long."

I lay down, turn my head sideways, and put an ear down on the piece of broken steel beside me, "Good, good. It is quiet now. Now, precious thing," I stroke the steel piece as if I am stroking a loved pet, "Sing to me. Tell me how I might mend you." I close my eyes, and hum along with the music they are playing me. I open my ears, and listen.

quote:

11:01 AM <HugzillaPhone> Lyric is going to use Things Speak on the lift
11:01 AM <Krysmbot> HugzillaPhone, 9+2 = 11

• What strong emotions have been most recently nearby this?
• What words have been said most recently nearby this?
• What’s wrong with this, and how might I fix it?

Also marking xp

SHY NUDIST GRRL
Feb 15, 2011

Communism will help more white people than anyone else. Any equal measures unfairly provide less to minority populations just because there's less of them. Democracy is truly the tyranny of the mob.



Cool+1 Hard-1 Hot+2 Sharp+1 Weird=0
Harm 0:00 xp 1/5 Barter 1

Lyric has just started her task and I am already bored. Not that it's anymore interesting to watch me poke someone a thousand times over hours either I'm sure. I won't let my restlessness be a distraction to her. "Right, I'm going to find a place to dry off. Where can I hang these up?" I start my taking off my sleeves and wring them out a bit as I wait for my answer.

Arresting Skinner, I have Monsoon's rapt attention

Tricky
Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage




Cool -1 | Hard +3 | Hot -2 | Sharp +1 | Weird +2
Harm 0:00 | Experience: 1/5 | 1-barter

I gave Abel a thumbs-up, "I'll bring my stuff on by later today." I walked on over to Smoke's boat and hopped on board.

My instincts were telling me that this was going to get bloody. They usually weren't wrong. Loose ends, especially loose ends with loose lips, were best avoided. My work with Abel would be significantly easier if First Mate had an opportunity to consolidate power before the gang wars started. I didn't much like the Drowned Men from my dealings so far. They didn't seem like the type to honor a contract. Or, for that matter, know their limits.

nil.
Nov 11, 2012



Cool +1 | Hard +0 | Hot +1 | Sharp +2 | Weird -1
Harm: 0:00 | XP: 3/5 | Angel Kit: 6/6 | Barter: 1

Now take Lyric: She may be just as connected to the thing that festers between madness and genius as Iris, but at least it drives her to work on practical things, or, if not practical, at least inconsequential. We may not exactly be of like minds, but between the two of us, we might just manage to create something meaningful. Something more permanent than just food, shelter, security for the next day, the next hour, the next minute. Not that those things aren't important, as important as life itself. I don't think anyone who's living in this world of ours can think that. So, why do I bother to spend time on this project while there's something more immediate, that whole mess with Diego and that ugly hole he's left behind, is brewing? For one thing, there's always something brewing, so I'd never get anything done if I only worked on my projects when there's nothing else to occupy me. I may as well wait for a dry, sunny day. Much better to split my time between what is necessary for life today and what is necessary for life tomorrow.

But I'm making a liar of myself by getting lost in things on the horizon, not in what's right in front of me. Dangerous. I scramble onto Smoke's boat, along with the others, and look out toward the sea on our trip back to Thames.

---

"Noah! Maya! Gather around." I settle down one one of the rusty empty barrels of gasoline we use for chairs, enjoying the relative dryness of the infirmary after spending the morning in the pouring rain. Every part of my clothing that can soak up water is stuck to my skin, but, that's not news. The concrete walls keep out the worst of the rain, but, of course, not all of it. I warily eye the bare open windows, if you can call them that, which provide most of the light here now that I'm not currently working. Going to have to board those up, and it'll make working on several screaming, bleeding bodies that much harder. But, one thing at a time. My two assistants, Noah and Maya, appear from somewhere deeper inside the building, and Maya at least looks uncertain whether I actually called - usually when I do, it's pretty clear something needs doing.

I wave them both over. "Gather around, gather around." Noah. I don't think he's ever going to be able to do what I can do, I think he just doesn't have the aptitude for it. But he does what he can, and he actually seems to enjoy helping people, and that's more than I can say for a lot of people. Strong, too, which comes in handy. Maya. Now she might be sharp enough to wield the scalpel one day, but it's too soon to tell. I don't remember much about her from before she almost died on my table, but after that, after I offered her work here, it's like there's always someone behind her back, lurking. At least in her head. I can see it in her eyes. I can only hope it'll heal in time. Hope she has the time to heal, what with the mess bearing down on all of us.

They look at me, Noah eager, Maya at least somewhat anxious. "Listen. There's trouble brewing in Thames, the kind of trouble that may mean a lot of bodies on our table. Which is good, in general. But it's also the kind of trouble that might try to drag itself over our doorstep, and you know what I think about that." I breathe out, look at them. I'm making them more nervous, with my vague rumblings, implications. I just need to think of them as my soldiers, and soldiers need clarity, not philosophy. "There'll be guns and blades in the street of Thames, more than usual. Might be over quickly, might be not. I'm going to make sure we're not going to get dragged into it, but I need you ready, smart and listening to what I say." My eyes rest on Noah for a moment when I say that - even though I haven't talked to him about what I am going to talk to him about yet. "Okay?"

"Now, Noah. First, I want you to board up all the windows. Not just to keep out the light, but people. Fetch the ladder outside leading to the roof and bring it inside." They need something to do. "And clean up the 'No Weapons' and the 'Everyone Pays' signs outside, I get the feeling people might need a reminder soon. The pictograms too." Noah gets up from his squat, nodding eagerly, then he stops and I can see the question forming on his face. Still, I let him ask, there's no use in thinking the boy is just slow.

"Pictograms? The paintings next to the writing, with the cross over the gun and the one with jingle?" I nod, even smile a little. "Yeah, those." Noah nods back and goes off.

"Maya, I want you to take stock off all the supplies we still have, meatmesh, narcostabs, sutures, everything. I need to know what we're working with. After that, look into how much food and water we have, stock up if we have to - we may not have the time to go out, and we'll have some more company, if everything works out." I get a look from her, somewhere between concerned and just the slightest bit insolent. I don't mind. I wave my hand. "I'll explain later. Alright, get to it. Wait, Maya, one more thing." I hesitate, then put a hand onto her thin shoulders. "Just in case, look into some place where you can lay low, just in case things get.." I shake my head. "Won't be needed, but just to set your mind at ease. Now." I shoo her with my hand. "Go."

After she's gone and safely out of hearing rage, having disappeared to check on our supplies, I get on my feet. I take a moment to take in this place, my place. Some might say it's not much. Some might say it's a whole lot. Dingy, more damp by far than I'd like, but at least it's been quite some time since someone tried to take it from me. And it's solidly built, defensible, good sight lines from the roof. Had an eye for that when I picked it out and I have an eye for it still. Of course, what I'm set to do next - talk with Noah about Iris - has nothing in common with that. In fact, I'll have to take care to not fall back into old habits, because back in the Legionnaires, if somebody was out of line, it wasn't kind words that was the weapon of choice to reel them in. Show them how things work. But that's not how I'm playing this with Noah, not yet at least. He's earned that much.

I find him gathering material for boarding up the windows, just like I told him to. Without a word, I join him, and for a minute we simply work alongside each other. "I hear you've been skulking around Iris' place." He looks up at me, not yet saying anything, not even looking guilty yet. "Now normally I don't get it in my head to tell you what to do, but that woman is dangerous." I hold up a hand. "And I don't mean the kind of dangerous you want. With someone else, you might get a knife in your ribs for your trouble, or a beating from the lady's brothers, but with her..." I make a weighing motion, then lift my finger to my head. "Turn your brain into mush. Or worse. And there won't be anything I'll be able to do for you, if I still felt so inclined at that point. So..." I put down the piece of wood I have been holding, put my arms across my chest. "...you focus on your work for now, and after that, you forget about Iris and stay away from her." I look at him, making it clear I'm expecting him to say that yes, he understands.

<nil_> Abel manipulate Noah
<nil_> !r 2d6+1
<Krysmbot> nil_, 5+1 = 6
Abel wants: Noah will stay away from Iris.
MC: Hard Move.
Marking XP from highlighted stat Hot.

nil. fucked around with this message at Nov 18, 2016 around 13:39

GodFish
Oct 10, 2012

We're your first, last, and only line of defense. We live in secret. We exist in shadow.

And we dress in black.



Cool +3 | Hard -1 | Hot +2 | Sharp =0 | Weird -1
Harm 0:00 | Exp 1/5 | Barter 2

What am I even doing here? Just... standing? It's hard not to suspect that this is all completely pointless, or some weird prank. Could it be a trap? No... I don't think so. Lyric isn't the sort, and it'd actually be interesting. This is just boring. That said, if I really am getting paid to stand in one spot for a minute... I'm not going to say no. I stifle a yawn, and let my eyes wander around the place, until they settle on Inque, just as she starts to remove her sleeves. It's an attractive sight, since her arms are quite pretty, and, well, she's undressing. Sleeves are one thing, but whatever comes next...

GodFish fucked around with this message at Nov 16, 2016 around 03:57

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megane
Jun 20, 2008



The deck of Smoke's boat is hardly a comfortable place -- the wind whipping past chills you all to the bone -- but at least it's covered, so you're out of the godforsaken weather for a while. When you all clomp up the ramp and step aboard, Smoke shares a glance with Brews, but then she shrugs, starts the engine, and focuses on steering.

Soon enough First Mate and her cheery bunch have been left far behind, and after a good half-hour of misery and salt-spray you find yourselves deposited on the creaking, shifting patchwork of boats, pieces of boats, poo poo-that-maybe-used-to-be-boats, random-rear end planks, and lashed-together flotsam and jetsam that we generously call the town of Thames. "Nice fuckin' day, ain't it?" says Smoke, by way of a goodbye.


Twilight and Iris, it's a little hard to get your bearings based on a fever dream, but after a wrong turn or two you find Sparks' house, in a part of town 's even more rundown and waterlogged than most. They say Thames stays afloat mostly outta spite at this point, and the floor slash deck 'round here is actually about 6 inches underwater on account of two-and-a-half floors' wortha junk built up on top of it. Sure as gently caress don't look stable, but anything's better'n sleeping in the rain. Sparks and his sister live in one end of a gutted-out ol' cargo ship that's been sliced up into little apartments; the sister's inside, judging by the sound, but it looks like you did indeed beat Sparks here.

One thing, though: this ain't exactly a friendly part of town. The two of you've already drawn a few glances, what with Twilight decked out like she's going to war, and Iris decked out like... well, like Iris. Not a whole lotta luxe fashion 'round here, is what I'm saying. So far nobody's messed with you, but if you want to do anything loud or out in the public view, you'll be acting under fire.


Abel, Noah hesitates for just a second, and then -- "Uhm. Sure thing, doc. Didn't mean nothin' bad by it, I was just... lookin', you know?" He trails off, all smiles, but... hmm... anh, it's probably nothing; he ain't that smart a kid, right? He picks up the plank you set down and starts hammering it in place, when Maya calls you back inside. "There's a patient," she mutters nervously, "she - says her name is Yellow." And indeed, there's a pale young lady with a shaved head standing in your front room, shivering and staring blankly at the walls. When she sees you and Maya, she bites her lip and hesitantly unwraps the rag from around her left arm, revealing a terrible sight: the skin of her hand and forearm has taken on a slick, black sheen, and her slender fingers are grown unnaturally long, with frog-like webbing between them. Maya gasps and covers her mouth in horror.

Yellow manages a ragged whisper: "W-what do I do, doc? You can f-f-fix me, can't you?"


Lyric, from within the depths of the iron you can hear a dull, intermittent reverberation. It - it's a man's voice! It's Bolts' voice! "Don't you worry about a thing, brother," you hear, and then the discordant scream of tearing metal. "Even that loving witch can't get this poo poo going again without a coupla' days' work. Plenty of time." He sounds pretty proud of himself, the villain; he justifies his crime against the metal, thinking that his master will praise him! You can hear the shape of the wound he made, deep in the engine: the lift's drive chain is severed, the metal sliced cleanly in two and the broken links taken away, thrown who-knows-where like trash. You'll need a whole new chain, or a way to forge new links for this one, not to mention several hours of labor to prise open the workings and get at the problem in the first place.

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