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 The Dead City, Session 1. The Dead City, as it’s called, is a bit of a misnomer. At least some would argue that. Sure, it’s dead compared to Before, but what isn’t? That’s not really an interesting comparison, and what we’re here for is interesting poo poo. What you’re here for. Why you came to listen to me in the first place. So as I was saying, the Dead City is very much alive. The hustling and bustling that probably characterized it before is still there, but in a different form. Yes, there’s plenty of death, but there’s plenty of life, too. And plenty of interesting lives. Sexy, powerful, weird lives that make you want to be just as cool or as hard as they are. That’s who we’re focusing on. The details aren’t real luxe just yet, but...we’ll get there. Red, the Battlebabe, you’re stalking prey through Fister’s Last Chance, a pub on the South Side of the city. Magpie’s hired you out to catch Amanlu, who thinks she’s blending into the crowd. She is, sort of. But not enough. Just as you approach her back, the patrons of the pub murmur loudly and then start shouting. It’s no matter of yours, as you silently grab one of those wonderful Bootsies of yours and move in. With a quick move, you spin her and yourself back towards the door, your arm around Amanlu’s throat and knifepoint in her back. And then you see what all the commotion was about - it was a matter of yours after all. That’s because Vault the Steeplejack, the Gunlugger, is standing there with that HK416 pointed straight at Amanlu, and it’s not like rounds of that caliber are going to give two shits about flesh at this range. For his part, Fister keeps serving mediocre liquor. Doesn’t seem like Amanlu’s a regular of his or have a tab, so he doesn’t care too much about what’s about to happen, whatever it is. So, Vault, Red. It looks like you’ve each got a contract to fulfill, and dead catch brings no pay from Magpie, jingle or otherwise. What do the both of you do? SeaDee See, you’ve been up in 4-Way Stopper’s turf for a few hours now, and you’ve just located Guo Lin, who’s known to you as a loyal runner for that storyteller on the hill. How else do you know Guo Lin, and why exactly has the informant got you out in dangerous territory? The Mayor, welcome to another day, though it’s technically the middle of one right now. Not sure you really can really tell or notice or even really care, since you’ve woken up in the middle of your shop. Again. In a tangle of cables and wires. Again. Your senses are screaming, though that may be an alarm on the switchboards, one of many hundreds that beep and blink all the time. Enough to drive one mad, if they weren’t already. No trouble to you, of course. What is trouble is who’s waking up next to you. Who is it? And is it trouble after all? And what do you do now? Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Magnificent Max, you’re taking a few minutes’ break between live broadcasts - who’s leaving now? Are you happy to see them go or wish they could stay? - when the Comptroller arrives, looking worried. Your informant tells you they’ve got a reliable source of information that’s saying Fuzz is on the upswing. Found a cache of some tasty poo poo that was worth a lot of jingle, and has been hiring muscle. Even worse, the Comptroller reports, there’s rumors that Fuzz has been trying to reach out to that fuckin’ steeplejack. So that’s the news, News. What do you do? Everyone, don’t fuckin’ forget to pay the world what you owe it to live. A gazetter, if you will, for the city. Spoilers.
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Jul 27, 2017 01:22
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Reserved.
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Jul 27, 2017 01:22
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SeaDee See, the Angel Hard =0 | Cool +2 | Hot -1 | Sharp +2 | Weird -1 Barter=1 | Harm=0:00 | XP ○○○○○» Salk’s Ghost its hot in this blasted thing. But the isolation gear is even more important out here in the Stoplights. Who knows what novel pathogen is lurking in the pits of the rusted steel-trees. Guo Lin is half-way up one of the aforementioned steel-trees, where someone has bolted on a bunch of junk to make a crude shelter. I thump on the underside of the trap door with the butt of my revolver and hiss at him through my mask. ”Its me you chill-addled lump, let me in before I get lockface.” He knows I’m coming, he called the meet after all. But I don’t want to take any chances because he gets twitchy if his dosing is off. You’d think after all these years he’d be better at it, but he shows up at Reception a few times a month either highballed senseless or a twitchy lowball mess. I usually give him to Shigusa, the boy needs the practice. He’s run up bit of a tab, which is what brings me out into this unhygienic pit of a ‘hood. Said he had a lead on a power converter, supposedly mint. But there were too many little pitchers back in the Zone to tell me there. The Infirmary blowing its 'verter when we rolled into this shithole is why I'm still here (as well as the public health crisis herein). Would still have to replace some of the little bits I’ve bartered away before we’d be fully mobile, but it would give me enough clean juice to do so and run all the equipment. Its a sad little dream, but these days I’ll take what I can get. If only Lin would open that blasted hatch... (1-barter spent on lifestyle, Mox has the honor of paying the bills while SeaDee See is away)
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Jul 27, 2017 02:58
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Magnificent Max "Thank you dear, it was inspired, inspired. Such a performance. I don't like to speak to soon...but perhaps a new star is being born in this city? Ho ho, you're too kind! We shall have to bring you back soon, very soon..." As Buccha flounces out of the studio and makes her way back down Gull Hill, I let out a breath that I didn't know I had been holding and let go a smile that I was painfully aware I was keeping plastered upon my face. I look to Dear Susan, the existential angst written clearly on my visage. She shrugs. "I told you, sir," she says uncharitably. And she had. And I hadn't listened. Because I'm magnificent. I'm Magnificent Max. "I couldn't say no," I protest uselessly. "She's beautiful." "Yeah," says Susan as she bustles in the talent for the next scene. "Which is real handy. You know. For radio." "She wasn't that bad. Surely she wasn't that bad?" I ask desperately. Dear Susan doesn't dignify the question with a response. * As the Comptroller, one of my faithful stringers, lays the bad news out for me, I hold my chin in my hand and sink into a spare chair. It's a talent of mine. The Proscenium is busier than an anthill- it's too small a building for the number of people coming and going, not to mention the #1 Fan Club Boys posted here and there to keep everything civil- and no matter what, without fail, I am able to find a free chair to settle myself into. It's not just on Gull Hill- I can do it anywhere. Throw me into the Coffin Flats (but please, don't really, I'm a man of delicate constitution) and without fail, all I will have to do is consider taking a seat and there, look, a spare chair. It's uncanny. "So I don't know what he's getting the beef together for, but it can't be good for you. Or us," the Comptroller finally says, and goes silent. I'm still holding my chin in my hand. It's a desperately sage position to take. Pure magic if you need a few moments to get your head together. "My dear boy," I say finally, "do you know why Fuzz is so dead set against me?" "No," says the Comptroller, somewhat confused. "Back when Fuzz ran the February Boys, he made some mistakes. Got a lot of his boys killed when they crossed the Cemetery. You know and I know, you don't cross the Cemetery, not unless you have a great deal more fellows than they do, which if unlikely, or if you know something that they don't, which is equally unlikely. And so, the February Boys disbanded and Fuzz went on to scavving, working for himself. Which is all fine and well. However, I thought that little incident would be a stirring episode of the Story so I...reinterpreted it, added it to the script. And it worked. It was riveting. People were enthralled." I pause, and light one of the evil smelling cigars they make over in Kreigsgrad. "People were also very aware that it was Fuzz who inspired that particular arc. I turned him into a laughingstock, parading his failures in front of my listeners. He wasn't happy about that, and from the sounds of it, remains that way." Dear Susan glares at me from across the studio where she's overseeing the effects men with their props. She hates it when I smoke around the machines. The Comptroller looks enthralled. "But gently caress him!" I cry good-naturedly and slap my stringer on the back. "It was good art! So now that he's recruiting again, I think that perhaps it's time to dust that character off, and bring him back! Susan!" I shout as fumble about for a bit of pencil. I begin to scribble new notes on old paper, new scenes, line cues for the actors to improvise around. "We're bringing back the Craven Prince! It's time for people to remember what happens when they sign on to work for that particular cretin! A whole new arc, re-illustrating the appalling failures of command he's so famous for!" I wave at the Ombudsman with my cigar as he gets up to go. "Hold on a moment, old fellow. I have a task for you, if you don't mind. I think it's time that the steeplejack and I cleared the air between us, certainly before Fuzz gets his hooks in her. Could you be a gentleman and ask her to meet me? I feel that this is unfinished business that's gone on too long." And with that, it's showtime. But first, a word from our sponsors. It's not cheap running the City's only mass-media outlet, and it's time to remind my dear public of that. Rally to the Cause: 2d6+2 10 Spending 1 hold to have the audience send in supplies worth 2-barter. That'll pay off my upkeep and I'll keep the second hold for now. Vulpes Vulpes fucked around with this message at 03:40 on Jul 27, 2017 |
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Jul 27, 2017 03:18
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 The Mayor 6-barter | 0:00 Harm | 0 Armor | 0/5 XP | 0 hold Cool=0 | Hard-1 | Hot-1 | Sharp+2 | Weird+2 Getting some beginning-of-session stuff out of the way first: Rolling Bonefeel (+Weird): 2d6+2 11, holding 1+1, marking XP Spending 2-barter for lifestyle, 4-barter remaining The Mayor's current Project is a weather station - windspeed, temperature, barometric pressure, rain gauge, and lightning rod for starters, maybe jury-rig a Doppler radar if she can manage it. __________________________________________________ poo poo. Shitshitshit. Duty calls. It's never quite dark in here, the fluorescents see to that. I guess I could turn them off every night, but what if I wake up and need to see something right then? Better to leave them like this. Permanent bluish tinge to everything, but you get used to it. Eventually it starts to feel weird not sleeping under rows of buzzing light-tubes. Okay, let's get to it. Approach the problem in steps. Bite-sized little chunks. Disentangle self from bedding, simple enough. The cables, a little more difficult. How did that even get wrapped around there? Alarm's screaming the whole time. Hell, my head's still screaming the whole time. The hell did I do last night? Anyway. Extricate self, rouse self. Knocked a few things over in the process, empty bottles, that sort of thing. I'll deal with that sooner or later, probably. I don't seem to be wearing any clothes, will have to address that soon. Bigger priorities now, though. gently caress yes I sleep on the floor. Sure, technically there's a bedroom I could be using, there was a whole suite down here where the City's human-neurons could take shelter during a crisis. Stripped it bare for parts and barter-goods long ago, burned most of the furniture for the sake of sanitation, put the skeletons in one of the closets, moved some of the blankets and pillows in here. More efficient. Less dead-time between sleep and work. Little time, much work. Have to optimize, ya dig? Speaking of work, what does the City have for me today? She's always got something to say, but this voice is new. Where is it coming from? Check the consoles one by one, work down the checklist, quickly-quickly-quickly. There's the big switchboard that takes up half the far wall, that's for the Metro and the trains and the trams and a whole bunch of other poo poo that doesn't work anymore, helpfully telling me that none of it is working anymore. Still useful, believe it or not - sometimes I need to know why a particular piece isn't working. Power grid, sewer and water mains, telephone network. There's a hundred other screens and boards for different things, some known, some unknown, some working, some not. Hit them all in sequence. This one, no, that one, no, this one over here still doesn't work, I already knew about that situation, and that one, and that one. The Refinery is on fire, but the Refinery is always on fire, that particular affliction is beyond my talents (assuming the Ashman would let me get within a block of the place anyway). One of the intact undersea cables in the Harbor District is pinging some outgoing traffic, probably just the Telemarketers performing weekly sacrament at the phone-temple. Pointless, but harmless. Seismo readings look like we're probably going to have another building collapse soon, I'll have to see if I can isolate it, maybe hire some hands and go strip what I can before it falls down. Still haven't found the source of the new sound yet, searching, searching... It's at about this time that I notice there's still someone in the bedding-pile on the floor. They're sitting up right now, and staring, groggy, bleary-eyed. Ohhh, that's what I was doing last night. Well, one of the things. All coming back to me now. See, I was at the Markets, picking up food and supplies for the weather station. Ended up with more than I could carry, so when a Charming Grandson offered to help me shoulder the load, what the hell could I do, say no? Think he said his name was Partridge. He had a few bottles of Brewer Suze's 'rocket fuel' - too bad about the taste, but it's strong stuff. He didn't leave after the delivery, he drank, I drank, one thing led to another, and hey, a gal's got needs, you judgmental motherfucker. So, uh, that's all well and good, except he's, y'know, still here. In the way. He might want to eat some of my food. He might want to talk. Poor adorable little blood cell. Can't have him hanging around here. Even so, maybe there's still a purpose he can serve. Probably going to be out and about today anyway. "Uhhh...hi? You're...awake." I pick up a basket full of old cell-phones sitting on top of one of the consoles and wave it in his general direction. "I'll give you these if you follow me around today and hit anybody who fucks with me. And put some clothes on." That's tactful, right? Now, where the hell is that alarm coming from? Offering 1-barter with strings attached, in order to retain a guy as a bodyguard. 3-barter remaining. Mister Bates fucked around with this message at 05:14 on Jul 27, 2017 |
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Jul 27, 2017 05:11
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 Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot-1 | Sharp+1 | Weird=0 | 2-armor | 0-barter | 0:00 harm | XP ●○○○○» Well poo poo. I knew something like this was going to happen when I took this job. Too complicated, too many moving parts, too many ways for poo poo to go wrong. But business has been slow and Yakov's not taking anyone's credit so here I am. And besides, loving up Magpie's program is something I'm always up for. I don't hold it much against people who take up Magpie's bounties, gotta keep body and soul together somehow. No, I save up my spite for the woman herself. Still, I wouldn't have looked twice at that Amanlu's bounty until Jackie One-Eye sidled up at breakfast and got in my ear with a plan to upend Magpie's operation and come away with plenty of jingle. A plan that required someone on the inside putting the hurt in - someone like me. And getting someone like me inside? Well, you can connect the dots. I should have expected competition. I keep my rifle up and ready, and my eyes down the sights, but the crowd around me makes my skin crawl. This is a good way to get shivved in the back, if anyone's dumb enough to tangle. Not that I won't turn them into a wet smear for it, but it'd make me miss my chance at Amanlu. So now I gotta do the thing I hate most. Talk this poo poo out. "Red." Vault spends 2 on lifestyle, so she's looking to make some cash. Holding 3 on Read a Person for Red. Read a Person [Red] (+Sharp): 2d6+1 11 Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at 22:33 on Jul 28, 2017 |
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Jul 27, 2017 15:26
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Red Cool+3 | Hard-2 | Hot+1 | Sharp+1 | Weird+1 Spending 1-barter for lifestyle: drugs don't come cheap, but abandoned mattresses sure as poo poo do. 3-barter remaining. __________________________________________________ I back up slowly against the door, pressing my knife a little harder against Amanlu's back. She's hot, at least, hotter than your average patron of this lovely loving bar. Hate this place, awful flickering fluorescent lights powered by the world's smelliest diesel generator in the old bathroom. Whole place reeks of fumes and piss. My other arm, the one around her neck, twitches involuntarily for a moment. loving itches, man. Ignore it. I lean my face in real close to Amanlu's ear and whisper to her. "Don't loving move. I ain't gonna kill you if I can help it, but I got no qualms roughing you up a little if I need to." I narrow my eyes and look straight at the chick leveling her gun at me. I know that face from somewhere, but where? HK416, that's no good, that'll fuckin' kill Amanlu if she opens fire. Magpie won't like that. I don't like Magpie, but I like unhappy Magpie even less. Job's gotta get done. gently caress. Wait, I know this chick. How'd she end up in a shithole like this? "Vault!" I shout at her, loud enough to make Amanlu cringe a bit. "I don't know who hired you to get our fair lady here, but I promise we can work this poo poo out. I'll make it worth your while, but I absolutely promise you we'll both be up poo poo creek if you keep me from delivering this package here." I push the knife just a hair harder against Amanlu, just enough to feel her wince and see a single drop of blood right on the end of my blade. This is bad and I know it. Gotta look for a way out. Read a Sitch: 2d6+1 = 8 MC, where's my best escape route?
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Jul 27, 2017 15:26
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Red, the best way out is the way you came in - through the front door, alone.
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Jul 27, 2017 15:33
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Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot-1 | Sharp+1 | Weird=0 | 2-armor | 0-barter | 0:00 harm | XP ●○○○○» Red's having one of her reasonable days. That's either very good, or very bad. I lower my rifle, but don't put it away. "All right, let's work it out. Amanlu's not dumb enough to run knowing who's chasing, is she?" I give the woman a hard look, really hoping she isn't that dumb. "Let's have a drink and talk the split." Still holding 3. Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at 22:34 on Jul 28, 2017 |
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Jul 27, 2017 16:11
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Red Cool+3 | Hard-2 | Hot+1 | Sharp+1 | Weird+1 1-armor | 3-barter | 0:00 harm | XP ○○○○○» __________________________________________________ A drink would be nice, yeah. "Not sure how dumb she is, but seeing as she got caught here by both of us can't imagine she's too bright." I turn towards Amanlu and let up with the knife, just a hair. "I know poo poo's bad for you right now, but I promise you, if you gently caress with me, it's gonna get a thousand times worse. Me and Vault here, we don't always see eye-to-eye but I promise you neither of us are gonna just let you sprint out that door, you got that?" I lower the knife and slide it back into my boot, making sure it stays accessible if I need it. Let's hope I don't. I turn back to Vault. "You probably guessed already, Magpie wants her back. Don't know why, didn't ask. I know you and Maggie aren't exactly friends, but I also know she ain't gonna be happy if you gently caress with her delivery. Who you working for, and what'll it take for me to get my way and take her outta this shithole?"
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Jul 27, 2017 16:49
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Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot-1 | Sharp+1 | Weird=0 | 2-armor | 0-barter | 0:00 harm | XP ●○○○○» "Working for Magpie, same as you, chasing posted bounties." I don't even bother trying to make it sound believable to Red. Just putting it out for public consumption. "You want to walk out, let's figure an arrangement that pays us both. Somewhere private, these assholes are making my neck itch with their staring. Fister, you still got that back room of yours?" Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at 22:34 on Jul 28, 2017 |
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Jul 27, 2017 17:51
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Fister looks up and half rolls his eyes. "Yeah, Vault. It's still there." He doesn't look overly happy about this new development, but Fister isn't dumb, either. "Carry-in carry-out and don't leave a mess." Red, Amanlu's pliable, probably figuring anything she does to stay alive now means she's slightly more likely to somehow get out of this whole mess with her skin. At least for a little while longer. You two can have the back room to hash out your plans - what do you do now? Mayor, Partridge considers your offer for a little bit, but not too long. Of course he'll take the phones. Phones are cool! Probably be able to sell them for some scratch, at least the ones that he can't fiddle with! The whole 'putting back on clothes' thing seems less amenable to him, clearly he'd prefer the two of you stay naked. The alarms and your insistence on investigating them seem to convince him that there's work to be done, though. A little conversation and it seems like he's not due to check back into August Grandmother for another day or so, so he's happy to stick with you. You know he's not one of the roughest or the toughest, but he does have a good lookin' smig strapped up. Not the worst thing to have on your side, a gun can do a lot of talking for you! Anyway, after some sorting and pivoting and switching and listening and guessing, looks like you've got a bit of a 'lectrical grid problem, over in sector 3. Partridge squints and scratches his chin, "isn't that up in the 4-Way Stoppers' turf? You sure that's worth dealing with right now?" Well, Savvy? Is it? What are you gonna do? The Ombudsman brings his exasperated hand to his brow. "Max. Now you want me to go find the steeplejack." An exaggerated sigh. "Sure, why not. Why the gently caress not." He turns again to leave, straightening the sleeves of his ragged sports coat. "But I want one of those cigars when I get back, on top of my normal pay. Two if I get shot." And he goes. As does the Comptroller, back to wherever it was he was bringing the information from. There's a minute of downtime, if you can call it that (I mean it sounds like you filled it with planning for the next bit of the Craven Prince), and then your next guest arrives. It's Fugari, and he looks excited. Usually just full of gossip, but he starts to explain, "Max - Magnificent Max, man, I got some real juice today. I got the real juice, the realest juice man. But I need somethin' Magnificent Max, I need something before I say this juice on the air you know man, I need your fan club boys to protect me man, this juice is the realest and I'm gonna have problems Magnificent Max, but it's the best juice and I wanna tell you and your people but I need that protection man, it's so juicy man," Fugari explains, sort of. So how do you respond? "You're not gonna catch fuckin' LOCKFACE out HERE, SeeDee SEE," Guo Lin hollers back. "YOU should know THAT!" A pause, and some fumbling noises. "GET OUT of the WAY," he bellows, and then fairly unceremoniously falls out of the trap door hatch, or at least it seems that way, but he's down on the ground in a puff of sand and crumbled asphalt as smooth as you please. "What are you WAITING for? 'verter IS THAT WAY." He gestures farther uptown with his machete, and a bunch of gunfire erupts from that general direction. Not at you, you can't see it, but definitely gunfire. "Come on, I STASHED it IN A HOUSE," Guo Lin says, and starts scampering off. Lots more gunfire. What do you do now? Follow your lead into what seems to be an intensifying battle, or something else?
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Jul 27, 2017 18:56
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Red Cool+3 | Hard-2 | Hot+1 | Sharp+1 | Weird+1 1-armor | 3-barter | 0:00 harm | XP ○○○○○» __________________________________________________ Following Fister's lead, I push Amanlu down the hall to the private room. The inside reeks of piss just as bad as the outside, I don't want to think about what a blacklight would turn up in a place like this. Once Vault enters the door, I shut it behind her, keeping one eye firmly planted on Amanlu in case she tries anything loving stupid. "Alright Vault," I say, finally giving in and scratching that drat arm. "You and me both know Maggie doesn't hire competing bounty hunters for the same job, and this job wasn't posted on her boards either. She wanted me personally, sent a goon to find me and drag me in front of her." I spit on the ground. loving Magpie. "Now you're gonna fuckin' level with me right the gently caress now about what you want with Amanlu, because so help me I am not letting Maggie get her way with me again, you understand?" Read a person: 2d6+1 = 7 Holding 1 against Vault.
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Jul 27, 2017 22:26
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The Mayor 3-barter | 0:00 Harm | 0 Armor | 1/5 XP | 1+1 hold Cool=0 | Hard-1 | Hot-1 | Sharp+2 | Weird+2 "See, one of the big things about the City nobody ever seems to understand is that, to her, territory doesn't matter. This crew or that crew marks off big splotches of the map as 'theirs', for however long they can hold it, and they think it somehow changes the way the City's supposed to work. The big drain-tunnels that keep half the city from flooding every high tide still need to be checked regularly even if King rear end in a top hat of poo poo Mountain decides to squat on top of the only access point." Wait, remember who I'm talking to. "Uh, metaphorical King rear end in a top hat, there isn't a real King rear end in a top hat." Or probably isn't, anyway. Jumpsuit ended up over there somehow. Step into it. Socks, boots, tool belt. Keep talking the whole time, multitask, multitask. "Point is, yeah, it's 4-Way Stopper turf now," or so everyone tells me, I'm not good at keeping track of who owns what, "but it's still the same place it was before they moved in, it's still a part of the bigger City, still connected to everything, get me? The transformer there goes, the grid also goes in three other districts on down the line, and it'll take me weeks, minimum, to string a new connection that routes around it. That's not just the Stoplights, that's all the juice gone in the Heights, the Interchange and a big chunk of the Boardwalk." Mostly depopulated these days, from what I hear, but 'mostly' isn't the same as 'completely', and besides, it's the fuckin' principle of the thing. They're still part of the City. Gloves, goggles, headset. Kleins, diagonal-cutters, needlenose, wire strippers. Few other things. Loaf of dense black bread, strip of dried meat, jug of chemical-tasting purified water. Things I don't need include notes, data printouts, a map. Never have, really. When the City needs me somewhere, she guides me there. Okay, think that's everything. Make a mental note of a few other lower-priority issues along the way - might be able to hit a couple of trouble spots on the way back, if things go well. For now, time to go. "Come on, time's wasting, letsgoletsgoletsgo!" Spending 1+1 hold to be where I need to fix the problem, double-quick, with the necessary tools, and taking +1forward Mister Bates fucked around with this message at 01:37 on Jul 28, 2017 |
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Jul 27, 2017 22:43
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Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot-1 | Sharp+1 | Weird=0 | 2-armor | 0-barter | 0:00 harm | XP ●○○○○» "Well, that's a piece of news. loving rear end in a top hat," I grumble at Red's statement, reslinging my rifle. "One-Eyed Jackie hit me up at Yakov's with a plan to knock over Magpie's operation. Figure that drat cyclops is just using this scheme as a step-stone to a bigger one, but the pay was good and it let me piss in Maggie's soup so gently caress it." "Assuming Jackie just failed to provide enough detail and isn't trying to play some bigger double cross, there's enough jingle to go around if you want in." "You know how Maggie's pens only have that one big door in the front and the two in the back, with plenty of shooters to hold em? Well there's another way in. Old fire-escape door, that everyone thinks is sealed but isn't. The scape is long gone, but if someone can open it from the inside then a couple of assholes can rope over from the derelict across the street. Then we grab one of the doors and Jackie's hitters come in and we take all Maggie's poo poo away." "Told me grabbing Amanlu here was a ticket in. Didn't mention Maggie'd asked you to look into it personally." Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at 22:34 on Jul 28, 2017 |
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Jul 27, 2017 22:53
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SeaDee See, the Angel Hard =0 | Cool +2 | Hot -1 | Sharp +2 | Weird -1 Barter=1 | Harm=0:00 | XP ●○○○○» “Its SeaDee S…” My correction trails off, as Guo Lin is already half-way down the street. Well gently caress I really wish I had taken more battlefield medic coursework back in the Tombs, or maybe slapped some plates on my overcoat. I should just turn around and leave the junkie to get blown up without me, but the thought of a mint converter gets my feet moving after Lin. I recheck the cylinder on my revolver, and then stare at the scene in front of me. Too far away and too much crap in the way to get a solid read, but indirect evidence is still useful. I listen to the gunshots and their echoes. Puffs of smoke around buildings, flashes of light off of windows. As my feet carry me along after Guo Lin my brain is distant, churning through the available data. Supplementing what I know with what my intuition can tease out. Well. My intuition, and the screams of the dead. Open My Mind: 2d6+2 5. Well poo poo. Marking XP)
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Jul 28, 2017 00:09
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Magnificent Max Juice. The juiciest juice. I blow smoke rings after a considered pull on the hideous cigar, and look contemplative. Time is coming up for a bit of news, something to give the listeners a break from the narrative of The Story (and for the actors to take a break, the craven curs) and some juice, the juiciest juice, would be just what the doctor ordered. I could sweat him about the whys, wherefores and whatnots, do my due diligence, but it's the juiciest juice and News Time is coming up in five, four, three, and I only have one question. "You have it. Just tell me, is it the truth?" Read a Person: 2d6+1 11 Is your character telling the truth?
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Jul 28, 2017 03:29
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"Magnificent Max, man, man I'm not looking to get wasted for some fake juice man, seems like a bad decision and idea man," Fugari explains. "It's real juice but of course it's still juice, some juice is just wrong, Magnificent Max, but I'm only telling real juice!" You can trust him to tell you what he's heard and maybe seen, but it does come with the caveat of being wrong. Not lies, but wrong. You know how gossip works. What do you do? SeaDee See, there's a sudden BRZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ like the hum of a transformer growing louder and louder and louder and then it's all you can hear and it's all you can taste and whoops maybe you got the lockbrain - that'd be bad - what's a lockbrain - when are the stars exploding behind your eyes - oops - sorry - no apologizing out here - no apologizing in here - nothing is an accident - everything happens for a reason - gently caress off no it doesn't - all random - BRZZZZZZZ - you poor fucker - poor in the city - poor in the heart - mind and vision clearing, no lockbrain, that's good, but - THERE'S MORE HERE THAN MEETS THE MEAT (than meats the eye) (meat) - perhaps regaining consciousness would be good instead of being out on your feet... They say in the Dead City, when parts of the City themselves go wrong, sometimes the Mayor shows up. And sometimes, when they Mayor shows up, she gets across the streets and wreckage faster than anyone should be able to, even the few Cabbies that still roam. They say she's got a network of secret tunnels, or that she can zap herself through the power lines or ride the pipes. Some even say the subway lines actually work for her, and only her. That's all speculation, what's true is the first part - the Mayor, every now and then, is just...there. You arrive on the first floor of an actual house, not even an apartment complex. Three-family triple-decker to be sure, but it's still a house. A bit of a rarity here, you're not far enough into the outskirts for that sort of building to be particularly common. But that's where you are. This looks like it once was a dining room? There's a big table, and on it, well that seems to be what brought you up here. It's a power 'verter, itself in great shape, but it's still got a ton of wires attached, and these! Hacked off without any care of the pain it would cause the city! Partridge isn't here just yet, but he'll be along shortly, you're sure of it. And then someone with a machete whips the front door open and basically jumps through, and you hear him shout "SEADEE SEEEEEEEEEE WE'RE here!" ...SeaDee See, you get back to this sprawled out on the floor of a house, probably where Guo Lin was trying to get you to go to. Given that he's here, there's a 'verter on a table, and well poo poo it looks like the Mayor's here too. Pop pop pop, more gunfire in the background, though it's louder now. What do the both of you do? Vault and Red, Amanlu sort of zones out. Her fate is entirely in your hands, and she's just trying to get by. Seems like the two of you need to keep going before she gets to find out what's going to happen to her.
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Jul 28, 2017 13:55
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Red Cool+3 | Hard-2 | Hot+1 | Sharp+1 | Weird+1 1-armor | 3-barter | 0:00 harm | XP ○○○○○» __________________________________________________ I spit on the ground. gently caress me I wanted this to be easy. "So you're suggesting we--" I stop real quick and turn to Amanlu. "Don't you fuckin' say a word of what we're about to say to anyone or I will gut you, do you loving understand?" Her silence speaks volumes. I turn back to Vault and continue, "so you're suggesting we take down Maggie, or at least try to gently caress her over real quick. poo poo, I thought I was the crazy one." "So here's the issue: I don't know this One-Eyed Jackie. I've heard of her sure but I've heard of dozens of half-wit tin-pot dictators of their own hosed-up portion of the city, and each and every time one of them has tried to screw over Magpie they've come to regret it--or they don't regret anything ever again, if you catch my drift. I'm not looking to die here. So you've gotta make me putting my rear end on the line worth it, because I do not want to end up on Maggie's bad side while she's still drawing breath, you understand me? What's my help worth to you?" Spending my 1-hold on Vault: What's your character really feeling?
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Jul 28, 2017 14:55
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Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot-1 | Sharp+1 | Weird=0 | 2-armor | 0-barter | 0:00 harm | XP ●○○○○» "I'm getting a fifth of whatever jingle Magpie has on hand plus whatever salvaged gear I could carry out on my own. Figure you can claim the same." Jackie probably won't like me splitting the take more, but if she gets Magpie's head on a platter, how much is she really going to bitch? I cross my arms, wondering which way Red will jump on this. I doubt she'd sell me out to Magpie, but that doesn't mean she'd be on board for this. Damned complications. Vault is annoyed - not at Red, but in general. Annoyed and impatient. Spend 2 myself for Red: • What does your character wish I’d do? • How could I get your character to get on board with this crazy plan?
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Jul 28, 2017 19:06
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 Cool+3 | Hard-2 | Hot+1 | Sharp+1 | Weird+1 1-armor | 3-barter | 0:00 harm | XP ○○○○○» __________________________________________________ I pantomime counting on my fingers. Math was never my strong suit. "If you really think Jackie would give me same as she's giving you we might be able to work something out, but gently caress me this is a big risk I'm taking if I agree to this, you know that, right? I'd be even more up poo poo creek than Amanlu here." For a brief moment I consider telling Vault to gently caress off, with luck she would and I could go shoot up and gently caress someone within the hour, but I know Vault. She won't play that way. Wish she would though. I sigh. "Alright here's the deal. First, one-fifth the goods, like you promised. Jackie don't agree, I get your poo poo instead. Maybe we can work something out if there's some stupid gun I don't want or some poo poo. Second, you owe me a favor. Won't be a big one, but I don't know what it is yet. Someday I'll need a hand, and you'll be that hand." I take a step forward and look Vault dead in the eye. "And third, and this is the most important one, after this job is done, you leave me the gently caress alone. No palling around for old time's sake, no steeplejacking, just me, some peace and quiet, and maybe some hard dick." A little air escapes my nose as I scoff. "Or whatever. I ain't picky." • What does your character wish I’d do? Honestly? Wish you'd gently caress off and let me deliver Amanlu. Maggie and I already don't see eye-to-eye, if she lives she's gonna make my life hell. • How could I get your character to get on board with this crazy plan? A guarantee. Don't feel like getting killed or worse because you wouldn't just let me do my job.
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Jul 28, 2017 21:06
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Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot-1 | Sharp+1 | Weird=0 | 2-armor | 0-barter | 0:00 harm | XP ●○○○○» I nod. "Works for me." I get up and crack my knuckles. "Might as well get to work then, yeah?"
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Jul 28, 2017 21:44
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 3-barter | 0:00 Harm | 0 Armor | 1/5 XP | 0 hold Cool=0 | Hard-1 | Hot-1 | Sharp+2 | Weird+2 Oh, no, not good, not good at all, nosiree, that doesn't belong here that doesn't belong here. A quick once-over of the machine - everything's still where it's supposed to be, from the looks of it. Connectors still good, nothing knocked out of place, the cuts are sloppy but the cable is replaceable. Good. Easy fix. Already feeling a bit better. "Fuckin'-hell, people, you're killing me here." That wasn't really said to anyone in particular, but, oh, hey, there are people here after all. One of them's just collapsed on the ground, that's probably not good. Now, on down the list of priorities. There's a loud person with a big knife right in front of me, it sounds a lot like I'm in the middle of a gun battle, there's a (dead?) person on the floor. Address priority one first, man, knife, unknown motive, directly in front of me. Don't really want to hurt him but also don't want to get stabbed, can't risk talking it out just now, if he's the unfriendly type he just needs to wave his arm a bit and I'm in a bad way. Besides, for all I know, he's the guy who hurt my drat grid. He's holding the blade one-handed and if I tackle his rear end I can probably get it away from him, so I'm going to tackle his rear end. What? They call me the Mayor, they don't call me the Battle Strategist. And I'm a bit pissed off right now. And I forgot to eat. Seize By Force (+Hard, +1forward): 2d6-1+1 4 You suffer little harm. Marking XP. Mister Bates fucked around with this message at 22:31 on Jul 28, 2017 |
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Jul 28, 2017 22:25
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 Hard =0 | Cool +2 | Hot -1 | Sharp +2 | Weird -1 Barter=1 | Harm=0:00 | XP ●○𗧷○○» I groan and push myself to my knees, and pop my mask just enough to spew bile across the floor. And that, friends and neighbors, is why the Instructors recommend not using the Technique outside of controlled conditions. gently caress... My vision clears and I stumble to my feet just in time to see Her Craziness tackle Guo Lin. I can already see someone’s blood, and I only have the bare necessities with me. Pasteur’s Balls, is everyone in this shithole stupid and crazy? I raise my revolver and fire a shot into the ceiling, hoping it will go unnoticed by the general ruckus outside. “Oi children! Can we please calm the gently caress down and talk this out before the fuckers out there find us and murder us?!” (Not Going Aggro or anything, just trying to break up the minibrawl before she has to use stock) PoultryGeist fucked around with this message at 22:49 on Jul 28, 2017 |
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Jul 28, 2017 22:45
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 Cool-1 | Hard=0 | Hot+2 | Sharp+1 | Weird+1 | 1-armor | 1-barter | 0:00 harm | XP ●○○○○» | 1-hold, 2-hold "Dear listeners, the Story, your Story, our story will return in but a few moments. In the meantime, it is I, your friend, your compatriot, your guide through the dark veins of this dead city, the hand in yours, the one who understands you. "Magnificent Max. "Today we have with us here in the studio one of you, a voice from the streets, who has come to share with us some news, some information. Some juice, that I am assured is the juiciest, so juicy that even I, Magnificent Max, have not heard it. I will be experiencing this revelation with you, dear listeners. As always. With you every moment. "But enough about me. Let's hear what our guest has to say. Please sir, identify yourself if you wish, or gird yourself with anonymity. But share with us your story." I look expectantly at Fugari, and gesture with my cigar. Get on with it, the smoking brand says.
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Jul 31, 2017 03:06
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 Mayor, your vision tunnels when you see the figure that must have threatened...well threatened something. Maybe your grid, maybe you, maybe, nothing? Regardless, Guo Lin is suddenly..not there and you’re stumbling and IS THAT BLOOD? Yeah, it’s blood. Your plan was to bullrush Guo Lin, and you did, including the part where you go right by the matador and he smokes you with a blade on the way by. Thankfully, it wasn’t a flush shot, but that’s a pretty serious gash across the chest and stomach you’ve got. And you’ve slammed into the wall and been made to look real stupid, to boot. Good thing Partridge wasn’t here to see this, but if he had been here, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten yourself slashed by a machete in the first place. loving smooth, Mayor. Then you hear a gunshot and someone starts talking. Anyway, you’re going to have to figure out what to do next. Machete inflicts 3-harm as established, unarmed grappling inflicts 0-harm as established. You take -1 harm for your choice, and you have 0-armor, so mark 2 segments on the harm clock. SeaDee See, as you recover (slightly), everything goes bonkers. Or at least the mayor goes bonkers, trying to bring fists to a big-rear end knife fight. Looks like she’s a bit stunned and you’ve at least got Guo Lin’s attention for the moment, so he isn’t trying to follow up on her, at least not yet. The ‘verter lingers on the table, oddly almost forgotten in combat. Almost. You wanted the floor to speak, you’ve got it. What do you do? Amanlu seems to react to your agreement, Vault and Red. She relaxes. Her fate, which she thought was all but predetermined the moment your itchy arm grabbed her, Red, is no longer sealed. There’s three people in the whole fuckin’ world that know the plan (the plan where Red delivers Amanlu to the holding cell and then pops the escape hatch door (on the inside of a cell? Who built this fuckin thing (guess with nowhere to go it doesn’t really matter)) so that Vault can do her steeplejack bullshit and lead One-Eyed Jackie and her crew on a shitkicking mission, and then Red gets a fifth of Magpie’s loot or Vault’s share in addition to a favor from Vault) and she’s one of them and she’s not gonna be the one to screw up the plan. So the three of you leave Fister’s, where the proprietor regards the fact that three people walked in alive and three people walked out alive as surprising, and shortly it’s time for the pieces of this puzzle to go their separate ways. What do you do? Magnificent Max, when Fugari accepts your direction and begins to actually speak on the air, something very unexpected happens. He’s calm, structured, and got a voice for the goddamned radio! That in itself is almost as surprising as his news, which is along the lines of: The Church is gearing up for war. Proclamations from both The Pope and her war leader, Mother Superior himself, have been seen cutting deals for arms. Possibly more alarmingly, the white warriors have been seen, and they haven’t been seen in nearly a year. Max, are you first-hand familiar with the elite fighters in their luxe white dresses? Or are stories like Fugari’s the closest you’ve come? Anyway, Fugari continues, any chump with eyes and ears near the Old Church could have told you that. The real juice, the real, dangerous juice, is that the white warrior that Fugari saw with his own eyes? It was Gripp. “My own drat brother.” And now it’s been broadcast, and pretty soon everyone will know. What do you do, Max?
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Aug 1, 2017 00:51
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Hard =0 | Cool +2 | Hot -1 | Sharp +2 | Weird -1 Barter=1 | Harm=0:00 | XP ●●○○○» Aww gently caress Well at least Guo Lin is looking to me and not finishing the job. I motion towards the door. “I’ve got our friend here, she’s not a threat. Keep an eye on the door, make sure no-one is sneaking up on us.” I holster my pistol and kneel in front of The Mayor. A nasty cut, fair amount of blood, but no obvious severe traumas. I show her the snake-staff sigil on my glove and recite The Rite. “I am Practioner See, duly boarded and licensed. I offer my skills and my Oath towards your continued well-being, do you consent to my care after being so informed?” I half-hope that she doesn’t consent, so I can strong-arm her about the ‘verter. But even if she does, what I’ve heard paints a picture of insanity, but insanity with a purpose. Maybe she could still be bargained with. One can only hope… (Read The Mayor: 2d6+2 4. Holy gently caress. Marking XP and asking: How could I get your character to give me the power converter?)
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Aug 1, 2017 01:32
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Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot-1 | Sharp+1 | Weird=0 | 2-armor | 0-barter | 0:00 harm | XP ●○○○○» Red's on board, mostly. Time to tell Jackie the word and get this little operation of hers rolling. I'm already geared up for it, after all. I make a couple double backs on my way to find her, out of habit, but otherwise don't waste my time making my way to where I expect her to be.
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Aug 1, 2017 14:38
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Cool+3 | Hard-2 | Hot+1 | Sharp+1 | Weird+1 1-armor | 3-barter | 0:00 harm | XP ○○○○○» __________________________________________________ The die is cast, I guess. poo poo sucks but it is what it is. Vault takes off basically as soon as we step out of the bar, but Amanlu's not dumb enough to make a break for it. I bring her back to where I've been staying the last week or two, a lovely old apartment on the edge of town, hidden away enough that no idiot bandits and what have you have tried to gently caress with me. I ain't dumb though, moment we get back I handcuff Amanlu to the old radiator. poo poo's been broke probably since before the fall, but it's solidly built and I'm not exactly about to complain about a good place to hold Amanlu. Vault didn't give me an ETA, but I know she's gotta find this Jackie-whoever and I know Maggie's not expecting Amanlu quite yet, so I dig around for my needles and supply instead and take the edge off for a bit. Let's hope this poo poo doesn't go south.
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Aug 1, 2017 15:02
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3-barter | 6:00 Harm | 0 Armor | 2/5 XP | 0 hold Cool=0 | Hard-1 | Hot-1 | Sharp+2 | Weird+2 gently caress, poo poo, stupid, stupid, stupid. Hurts like gently caress and I'm going to need a new jumpsuit, I've got a finite number of these things. Still, I'm not dead, which is good. Someone is bound to replace me if I die, but they probably won't be as good. Masked doctor in my face. Think I've seen her before, never paid much attention - she's got her sphere, I've got mine. Wave her away, irritated. "Fine, fine, do your thing. But you break that machine and I'm going to do...I don't know what, but it will be very very bad." Probably not particularly intimidating from the unarmed person who just got stabbed and is now bleeding out on the floor, but it's definitely at least a C effort, if I do say so myself. "That's why you're here, isn't it, isn't it? Two armed people, conveniently here, just as the City sends me this way? Here to gently caress with the grid?" I'd get up, but the ground is feeling pretty nice right now. The direct approach went extremely badly, but maybe I can try some of those word things. "Look, you know who I am, and I've got a vague idea who you are. I get that I'm not exactly in, like, a bargaining position right now, but please don't hurt the city. She's not in great shape as it is and we're all only alive as long as she is." Wait. Remember who I'm talking to. "You're a doctor, right? What's the term you use, for when you have to sacrifice some patients to save others? Triage, right? How about you let me do a little triage? I can't exactly stop you from ripping out all my connections and taking whatever little chunks of the City you want right now, but if you want the drat thing to work for you when you put it wherever the hell you're going to put it, you need to do it my way. You blood cells-" a little laugh, some pained coughing, I'm losing quite a few of those myself right now "-you all call me nuts, and maybe you're right, but I'm the kind of nuts that keeps you bastards alive." Gesture vaguely in the direction of the 'verter. "That thing, see, you can't just rip it out and plug it in somewhere else. You tried and it hurt the city bad enough that she called me out here. You're lucky whoever hosed with it didn't hack off the wrong cable at the wrong time and fry everyone in the room with live h-vee. They would have definitely overloaded and blown out the substations in three other districts, and probably blown up the thing you were trying to steal too. You're loving lucky it's intact. Let me do it right. You'll get your power, wherever the hell you're trying to get it, and I can do it without making a goddamn mess of the grid in the process." In hindsight maybe I should have just said that first, but in my defense I was pretty pissed off at the time. And now pain is happening. gently caress me that was a bad idea. SeaDee See: The Mayor's only going to let you leave with the converter if she's the one to carry it and the one to reinstall it wherever it goes. Or if you kill or incapacitate her, I guess. Mister Bates fucked around with this message at 18:08 on Aug 2, 2017 |
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Aug 2, 2017 08:53
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Hard =0 | Cool +2 | Hot -1 | Sharp +2 | Weird -1 Barter=1 | Harm=0:00 | XP ●●○○○» I simply nod at The’s torrent of words. My outer gloves slip off, revealing the thinner innies taped to the suit-sleeves. I slap on a pair of cleantex and get to work. ”Let the Record show that Consent-So-Informed was obtained. On-site treatment will consist of basic wound stabilization due to the proximity of hostility, followed by a full work-up once the patient has been moved to a safe location.” I break out the simple bandages and get them situated. “I didn’t have anything to do with cutting the converter loose, it was like that when I arrived. Although it may have been done ahead of time by Guo Lin, in which case I apologize, as he is technically working for me.” I lean back on my heels and indicate the bandages. “These will keep you from bleeding too much or picking up something nasty before we get you to the Infirmary. I can staple the wound shut, but you’re going to want to be chilled-out for that and I can’t recommend that in an active warzone.” I clear my throat. ”Let the Record show that medical aid will be rendered irrespective of the patient’s offer of technical support, no quid pro quo as per subsection 2c of the Oath” “I would appreciate your help installing the converter into the Infirmary, my team and I only have basic tech training. You can even have the old one, its burnt out but it might have some scav worth.” SeaDee See is totally fine with The Mayor installing the ‘verter. She will also spend the stock to speed healing once we get somewhere safe (as it may involve drugging The Mayor senseless).
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Aug 2, 2017 22:41
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Cool-1 | Hard=0 | Hot+2 | Sharp+1 | Weird+1 | 1-armor | 1-barter | 0:00 harm | XP ●○○○○» | 1-hold (Rally), 1-hold (Read a Person) poo poo. poo poo poo poo poo poo poo poo drat. "We've met," I manage to say without a stammer. Which is a feat, I'm not ashamed to say. I've been getting tidbits from Fugari for years, and I've never known that Gripp was his brother. There was a lot I didn't know about Gripp, apparently. I knew he was was for the Church, of course, ever since he came to Gull Hill representing their interests and trying to turn my station into their mouthpiece. Like most, I try and steer clear of them, and I didn't fancy becoming their propaganda outlet. However. I didn't know that Gripp was a white warrior. "My friend," I say into the mic, "thank you for your statement. This is, I'm sure we can all agree, alarming news. The white warriors haven't been seen, as longtime listeners will remember, for years, not since the schism in the Church. As we all know, this was when the more...radical elements splintered off to form the Burning Time. Can you tell us more about what the aims of the Church might be? Or perhaps what would drive your own brother to take the Vow?" Spending 1-hold: What is your character really feeling? Vulpes Vulpes fucked around with this message at 02:10 on Aug 3, 2017 |
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Aug 3, 2017 01:54
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Guo Lin stands down with the machete, which has got to be a relief to you, Mayor, but you’re still bleeding and in pain and SeaDee See has just decided to uh, not really treat you, yet. The door bangs again, and then Partidge shows up and waves his smig around wildly; he seems agitated that he managed to lose the Mayor, and now she’s been seriously injured! Oh no. Anyway, Guo Lin turns to you, SeaDee See, and tells you “PAID up, I’m OUTTA HERE,” and bolts for the door before, he figures, Partidge puts two and two together and shoots at him. Not that the gunfire has toned down. Partridge looks like he wants to rush to your side, Mayor, but knows enough not to get in the way of the medic partially covering and cleaning your wounds. Instead, he reports that some Churchgoers are attacking the 4-Way Stoppers. That’s the source of the gunfire. A couple more details are exchanged, and it sounds like the fastest way back to the Infirmary is right through their battle zone. What do you do? Risk the crossfire? Or take a lot more time and hopefully stay safer? Got a third option? “Vault, you little poo poo,” One-Eyed Jackie says somewhere between playfully and critically as you enter her shack, “where’s the prisoner? This whole fuckin’ operation doesn’t work without the prisoner, you know.” Of course you know that, but her one eye gleams like she’s telling you something new. Walter snorts and plays with the bolt on his long rifle. Maybe at some point that’d be a euphemism, but right now it’s quite literal. “Why are you here without the drat prisoner,” Jackie wants to know. What do you tell her? “Church has always been about looking out for themselves, Magnificent Max,” Fugari answers. “Same as you or me or the 4-Way Stoppers or anyone else. It’s how they go about it that’s different. They’ve got that Old Church that they forted up like the drat Kriegsgrad and they’ve got their, what do they call it, honor dress. You want to be with them you got to wear their style. But again, that’s no real different than anyone else. Why are they on the move now, Max? Either they’re desperate or they think they’ve got an advantage.” Again, no sign of the frantic chatter about juice from before. Fugari’s a natural on the radio. “I’m worried that Gripp vowed in. Means I’m tied into their war in a way I don’t want to be. I make my living working for lots of people. Nothing wrong with that, that’s the way a lot of you,” now fully addressing the audience, “get by too. But if the Church expands their war people are going to be forced to take sides. Some will still be free to come and go, of course. But I won’t be. I got a personal stake now, one that I didn’t ask for. So I’m worried, Max. I’m worried.” You got a response? Red, that’s the poo poo. Hits you real nice, real nice. No problems, no problems. There’s a mattress here, of course there’s a mattress here, and you’re laying down, how long has it been, and then Amanalu actually says something… “there’s someone at the door, lady.” What do you do?
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Aug 3, 2017 15:36
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Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot-1 | Sharp+1 | Weird=0 | 2-armor | 0-barter | 0:00 harm | XP ●●○○○» I shrug at Jackie as I stand in the door, sparing a glance for Walter. "You keep playing with that, it'll fall off too," I tell him as I come all the way in. I turn my attention back to Jackie. "Why are you sending me after prisoners Magpie put under exclusive contracts," I fire back. "Think she wasn't going to notice I'm not the person she gave it to?" I take a seat on a handy open spot, not bothering to ask. "She sicced Red on it. So I improvised a solution so your plan didn't go down in a hail of gunfire before it got started." "Cut a deal, Red gets same kind of share I got, and we have another gun and someone Magpie's less likely to shoot on sight doing the inside job." I watch Jackie. It'll be mildly interesting to see how she reacts. Read a Person [Jackie] (+Sharp): 2d6+1 3 Well that's as bad as I could have done on that.
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Aug 3, 2017 19:19
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3-barter | 6:00 Harm | 0 Armor | 2/5 XP | 0 hold Cool=0 | Hard-1 | Hot-1 | Sharp+2 | Weird+2 Okay. Forget the pain for now. Or, well, try to, anyway. Forget the damage already done to the power grid today - triage, triage, triage. Focus on getting this thing out and getting it set up somewhere else. Fix this problem later. "Thanks, doc," I say through gritted teeth. First things first - grab the end of Partridge's smig and force it down towards the floor and away from everyone, gently as possible. "Down, boy. Finger off the trigger for now, okay? It happened. Nothing to be done about it now except keep it from happening again." I tried for a gentle tone of voice, but I'm not sure how successful I was. So, rushing straight into a fight again, or taking the long way around, wasting valuable time and also spending even longer with a huge gash in me. Neither sounds fun. Is there a third option? I guess I could go out and look, but why would I? The City sees everything, all I have to do is ask. She's not always forthcoming with answers, but times like this, it's worth a try. "Everyone hold up a second, let me listen." Lean up against a wall for a second and close my eyes. Let the world go out of focus, and listen, really listen. Not the gunfire or the shouting or any of the other distant noises of everyday life - go past that, to something deeper, to the heartbeat, the one that's always there and everyone hears whether they realize it or not. Listen to it deeply enough and you can hear the city, feel the city, reach out with your mind and touch...something, below it all. And sometimes it touches you back. Open your brain: 2d6+2 9 Trying to feel out the flow of the fight and of the terrain around it, see if there's a safe way through or anything else we can turn to our advantage. Marking XP.
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Aug 3, 2017 19:22
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Cool+3 | Hard-2 | Hot+1 | Sharp+1 | Weird+1 1-armor | 3-barter | 0:00 harm | XP ○○○○○» __________________________________________________ That beautiful numbing feeling is just starting to hit my brain when I hear a sharp Thwap! on the door. Ah poo poo, who in the gently caress else knows this place or knows I'm here or... It's hard but I force myself out of bed and grab a knife off the ground. I hold it in my right hand plain as day, no point hiding it if someone's here to kill me. I walk over to Amanlu and untie her, then hold the knife to her throat. "Don't. Move." With my human shield in place I move to the door and in one quick motion fling it open.
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Aug 3, 2017 23:59
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Cool-1 | Hard=0 | Hot+2 | Sharp+1 | Weird+1 | 1-armor | 1-barter | 0:00 harm | XP ●○○○○» | 1-hold (Rally) "My friend, with this sort of news, I believe that we're all worried. A war like the one we're discussing, it's nothing that bodes well for any of us. But, while it touches us all, you've told us how it gives you particular cause for concern. Given your personal connection, the tie you spoke about, what do you intend to do? What kind of advice can you give our listeners for the coming conflict?" Spending my last hold
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Aug 4, 2017 16:26
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Hello Mayor! Funny you should ask these questions! See, maybe if you weren’t doing that thing that you weird meatbags tend to do where you stop paying attention to everything you could have been here before everything went bad? I mean, losing a ‘verter isn’t good! And I hear you’re going to plug it back in and I trust you to do that right! At least as close to right as anyone has since <FLICKER> Listen closely, you broken sack of flesh. Once, when They were boring some of the underground tunnels here, there was a lot of fuckin’ squabbling as to which way to go, how to route the paths, and in a certain case, you know what the Engineers did? They built a bigger drill and went right through my rear end. It worked, for them. It might work for you. It might not, too. That’s the way drilling works, you know? Meat. Pfft. Red, it’s Jackabaka. He’s wearing some truly excellent looking sunglasses, but otherwise it’s the Jackabaka you know pretty darn well. How do you know him? And he says to you “easy, easy. You doing one of those ‘jobs,’ again?” How do you react? “No, gently caress you, Vault,” is the immediate response, along with a big-rear end revolver in your face. Shiny, that. Walter’s got his rifle up and at you too. The big galoot is handy with the steel after all. “I didn’t get you in on this plan to improvise, and I didn’t get you in on this plan for complications. We stick to the plan as I devised it.” One-Eyed Jackie looks furious. “Under-fuckin-stand?” What do you do? “Well, Magnificent Max, I’m of the opinion that this coming war isn’t going to be stopped. I think people should think real hard about where their loyalties really lie. I’m not a real battlefield geek, everyone who knows me knows that. But I intend to fight how I can and survive; there’s going to be blood and I don’t aim to die.” He looks at you, and by his facial expressions there’s more he wants to say, but is pretty sure he doesn’t want to say it on air. You gonna let him have an Off The Record chat with you? Or what else do you do?
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Aug 6, 2017 15:55
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Cool-1 | Hard=0 | Hot+2 | Sharp+1 | Weird+1 | 1-armor | 1-barter | 0:00 harm | XP ●○○○○» | 1-hold (Rally) I tilt my head. It's a gesture that's perhaps a little less subtle than I meant it to be, a side affect of working in radio. I'm used to people not being able to see me. "Nor do any of us. Thank you for your time and words, my friend. Before we sign off for this particular episode and return you to the Story, I'd like anyone listening to do their best, to remember what it is to be human, to look out after one another. These are uncertain times- times of war, times of strife. It becomes easier and easier to look out for number one only, to fracture and split, but I ask you all not to work miracles, but only to do your best. It's all I myself can do, and it's all I can ask of you. This is Magnificent Max, your friend, your ally, the light in the darkness that tells you that no, you are not alone. Good afternoon, City. "I love you." Dear Susan signals that we're off the air, and I lead Fugari out of the studio proper, and offer him a seat. "Thank you for your time, Fugari, I had no idea you had such potential as a broadcaster. You have the voice, the cadences, that precision, that sense of exactly what to say and how to say it. And of course, what to leave out. "So what did you not want to say on the air?"
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Aug 7, 2017 10:23
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Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot-1 | Sharp+1 | Weird=0 | 2-armor | 0-barter | 9:00 harm | XP ●●●○○» "Huh." Well, that went about as well as I should have expected. I stare down the barrel of Jackie's gun for a moment. Then I take it from her. People who aren't used to being in fights tend to think of guns as magic. If you've got one and the other rear end in a top hat doesn't, you win. But that's not really how it works. Especially if you're dumb enough to put the gun in the reach of the person you want dead. Most people need a second to work up to killing. To make the decision. And then to squeeze the trigger. And that trigger has a long, long way to go on a revolver. Long enough for me to duck my head one way and grab her wrist, forcing it the other. The shot is deafening. My ear rings, and the heat of the blast scorches my neck. A sharp pain and a hot wet feeling as something punches me in the shoulder, hard. Pulled her hand too far down trying to get clear. But I'm not dead. Unfortunately for Jackie. I continue yanking on her wrist, pulling her to me. Her face smashes onto my shoulder as I twist hard and yank, and the gun is in my hand now. I flip it around, jam it into her chest, and pull that trigger. That trigger has a short, short way to go when you have no chance to get out of the way. I haul Jackie across my body as a shield as the revolver comes up, give me some cover from Walter. Thing about those old Carcanos though. You can flip the cocking piece around by accident if you're too aggressive with the bolt. And then it won't close right. Walter is still trying to force it anyways when the gun booms again and puts an end to that. I look around the room. The room with my dead employer in a half-assed scheme I'm already committed to, and at the hole the bullet's punched in me. "poo poo." Seize by Force (+Hard): 2d6+2 8 • You take definite and undeniable control of it. • You inflict terrible harm (+1harm). Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at 02:08 on Aug 8, 2017 |
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Aug 7, 2017 13:44
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