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Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.



Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot-1 | Sharp+1 | Weird=0 || Red+3 | See=0 | Max-1 || 6:00 harm | 2-armor | 3-barter | 2-stock | XP ○○○○○»


Sounds like they didn't expect this. It's a risk, trusting them, but I'll take it. I don't point my rifle at them, but I keep it ready. And take cover. They don't seem to know I'm here, and I don't want them shooting me on accident.

"Hey," I get their attention, then point up towards the roof when they look. "Makepeace. Got to have some downstairs too."

Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at Sep 28, 2017 around 18:22

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quiggy
Aug 7, 2010

[in Russian] Oof.





Cool+3 | Hard-2 | Hot+1 | Sharp+1 | Weird+1
1-armor | 0-barter | 6:00 harm | XP ○○○○○» | 1-advance


"Haven't heard poo poo," I say while climbing over yet another loving pile of rubble. I hate this part of the city, feels impossible to move anywhere. "Had a run-in with a buddy of mine not too long ago who runs with them and she seemed normal as ever--least, as normal as anyone ever is."

I'm about to ask why, if he's noticed anything or what, and then I realize that no, gently caress that, we got bigger problems here. "Now you wanna answer a question for me? I got roped into this gig thinking it'd be pretty run-of-the-mill, and now we're out here skirting around loving Churchgoers armed with rifles and grenades. Is there something y'all aren't telling me?"

Vulpes Vulpes
Apr 28, 2013

noises, sounds, and sweet airs



Cool-1 | Hard=0 | Hot+2 | Sharp+1 | Weird+1 | 1-armor | 1-barter | 0:00 harm | XP 2/5 » | 1-hold (Rally)

"Stupid old man," I say to myself, and cough. My mouth tastes like someone washed an ashtray out with cheap wine and poured it down my neck. Which, of course, is more or less what happened. I met Preacher Mark's King James, I suppose. Large black fellow with an expressive face. He told me that everything was going to be alright, that when I died, there would still be something.

But that was a lie. If there was going to be anything left after I died, I'd have to make it.

I shake off Preacher Mark's solicitous hands, and reach for my old radio and crank it as fast as my shaking hands will allow. I need to hear the broadcast. I need to hear it all the way back to Gull Hill, where the tubes are hot and the mic is hot and with them, I can light my own funeral pyre.

PoultryGeist
Feb 26, 2013

Crystals?

Fun Shoe


Hard =0 | Cool +2 | Hot -1 | Sharp +2 | Weird -1
Barter=3 | Harm=0:00 | Stock=4 | XP ●●●●○»

Is… is she flirting with me? Why would she bother with such a fruitless…

Oh right. I’m beyond the reach of The Tombs, and she doesn’t know the particularities of the Oath. Still, she’s not uncomely, and it would be a shame to burn bridges.

“Yes, the coats and masks and such are the uniform of the Practioner. In addition to keeping any wayward fluids off of our clothes, they serve to separate us from the general population. My order is… monastic? Or something close. Our Oath requires a certain… distance from our Patients and those that might become Patients.” I try to put on a more detached air, trying my best to perform the ‘Menotyou’ ritual and hoping its widespread enough to be known here.

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

the cyberpunk dystopia is now
you are not the runner


Clever Betty



Magnificent Max, Preacher Mark looks very slightly miffed with your rejection of the Gospel, but assures you King James will be there for you whenever you wish to accept Him, and that he himself will be available if you’d like to talk further. As you begin the hike back to Gull Hill, you crank enough energy into the radio to warm it, and with a crackle, the words of the station reach your ears. Who’s on the air? How are they succeeding? How are they failing?

“You’re a doctor, Seadee See,” Nati says, “everyone could be your patient. You going to keep clinical distance from everybody in the city? That’s no way to live.” She rolls the dice and moves her pieces. “I get it. Nobody wants to get burned, you know? But c’mon, come with me to Fresnel’s later tonight.” A few turns pass, and the game finishes up. “I’ve got some other stuff I gotta do in the area,” she says, “but should I come back in four, five hours?” Last call, Doc. What are you gonna do?

Vault, Sickle and Crowbar freeze when they hear you, then cock their heads to look at each other. Communicating without talking. A moment passes. “We didn’t count on this poo poo, Vault,” Crowbar says. Sickle picks up the point, next. “We’re stuck in here with you. I got a feeling that makes us guilty by association to whatever band of motherfuckers you’ve pissed off now. So let’s get this straight.” Crowbar’s turn. “We’re in it to win it, and then you and us are through. Got it?” No real fear, no real anger in their voices. Just facts. Sickle pulls a thin metal mask down over his face. He pounds Crowbar’s gloved fist, and the three of you have just a couple moments left to prepare. What do you do?

“The grenades are news to me, gently caress off,” you get by way of reply. “Red, you get brought in when things aren’t run-of-the-mill. Haven’t you noticed that in your life?” Mr. Lilton is really starting to go off, now. “I’m just a fuckin’ security guard, not an elite combat escort. Magnificent Max wants the Ombudsman and whatever he’s carrying safe. Real safe. I don’t know what the gently caress you want to know besides the goddamn obvious, that the Churchgoers are arming up and they’ve got everyone that isn’t them on their shitlist, and that includes us. Fuckin’,” he seems really exasperated, like he was working with a short fuse. How do you respond?

Captain Foo fucked around with this message at Sep 28, 2017 around 19:27

quiggy
Aug 7, 2010

[in Russian] Oof.





Cool+3 | Hard-2 | Hot+1 | Sharp+1 | Weird+1
1-armor | 0-barter | 6:00 harm | XP ○○○○○» | 1-advance


"Jesus, so you're in the dark too, don't have to fuckin' snap at me." I slide my gun back into its new holster and spit on the ground. Wonder what crawled up this guy's rear end. "Just like fuckin' tell me you don't know next time, ok? Ain't the first time I'm kept in the dark, and it probably won't be the last time either."

"Christ," I add under my breath.

Whatever. So the poo poo's for Max, most pretentious gently caress in the whole city. Guess that means we're headed over to his place, what's it called, the Procenem? Proskenium? Who gives a poo poo. 'Least now I understand why the Ombudsman is involved, and why this whole thing is so drat tight-lipped. Best just keep my mouth shut and do my job, maybe I'll get enough jingle at the end of it to have a little fun tonight.

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.



Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot-1 | Sharp+1 | Weird=0 || Red+3 | See=0 | Max-1 || 6:00 harm | 2-armor | 3-barter | 2-stock | XP ○○○○○»


"If Makepeace is here, she's running with Wartooth," I warn them. "Hates me most, but not like you'll be left be if I'm dead." I shrug though. Long as they're not shooting at me. I shoulder the rifle again. "Let's go kill the fuckers."

Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at Oct 3, 2017 around 13:41

PoultryGeist
Feb 26, 2013

Crystals?

Fun Shoe


Hard =0 | Cool +2 | Hot -1 | Sharp +2 | Weird -1
Barter=3 | Harm=0:00 | Stock=4 | XP ●●●●○»

Captain Foo posted:

“You’re a doctor, Seadee See,” Nati says, “everyone could be your patient. You going to keep clinical distance from everybody in the city? That’s no way to live.”
“Well that *is* the general idea, but I admit that its easier when there are other Practitioners around to share the load.”

I eye Nati as the match progresses. Tavli (what we call Sheshbesh in the Tombs) is taught to children to sharpen their thinking, so I can play a standard match in my sleep. She is right, I’ve already started to feel the strain of upholding that area of the Oath. Mox is great, but she’s still my Assisting, part of my staff.

To be honest, I haven’t really connected with anyone since EnTee EssBee died.
since you murdered her you mean.
Shut up!

quote:

“I’ve got some other stuff I gotta do in the area,” she says, “but should I come back in four, five hours?”

I snap back, vaguely aware of Nati’s offer and the fact that she’s managed to beat me. Hmmm. Fuckit, its not like there’s anyone around to report me to the Review Board. “Sure. Er, I mean ‘Yes, that sounds lovely’. However-” I nod to my isolation gear on its rack. “I get to wear my best suit. Sound good?”

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

the cyberpunk dystopia is now
you are not the runner


Clever Betty



Red, with much fuming but little other incident of note, you arrive at Gull Hill. The Ombudsman seems concerned, though. His boss isn’t back yet, so what are you going to do? A number of the other #1 Fan Club Boys show up, led by Unpleasence. No jingle yet, they don’t know anything about it. They’ll keep the Ombudsman safe here on Gull Hill though, and they thank you for the escort. You’re free to mingle or head down to the Market, and they’ll send a runner when the boss gets back. Or you can do something else. What do you decide?

“That’s the point, jacknuts,” Sickle snaps. You rush by the two gunners, Vault, and through the main stairway doors. With a slam the door opens, and you’re quickly flanked by Crowbar and Sickle. At the base of the stairs, starting to ascend, are Makepeace’s men and women. There’s a moment, right here, right now, before the battle starts, before anyone can react. Everything seems frozen, and the Maelstrom rings in the back of the head, an excited squeal. And then the fighting begins. What do you do?

SeaDee Sea, Nati chortles quickly. “Sure,” she says, like there’s some sort of joke, “but you certainly won’t want the head gear.” And then she’s off. And then it’s just you. And your thoughts. And then there’s Mox, again, with a bolt that clearly isn’t going to fit the ‘verter in any way. “So,” she asks, “how did it go?”

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.



Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot-1 | Sharp+1 | Weird=0 || Red+3 | See=0 | Max-1 || 6:00 harm | 2-armor | 3-barter | 2-stock | XP ●○○○○»

Sometimes in combat time slows down. Every detail becomes sharp and obvious, every action deliberate. Thoughts crawl. In that moment, you either watch your death come at you with inexorable finality. Or - you become the inexorable one.

Beside me Crowbar and Sickle start to dodge to either side. Makepeace's people aren't as experienced. Only one dives for cover. Another points, another starts to shout. The rest start to raise their weapons. I take one step to the side, behind a banister. Let the 416 hang from its sling as I yank a grenade from the loop on my vest. Pull the pin, cock my arm back for the throw. Open my fingers to release the lever. In the near frozen moment I can see it tumbling away. As my arm comes forward and my fingers release their grip on the explosive, I call on the patron saint of long shots and impossible throws. "Kobe!"

Then things start to happen fast.

I have NOT TO BE hosed WITH in case that applies; I assume it just puts me on equal footing with Makepeace's goons. Using grenades (4-harm hand area reload messy).

Seize By Force [+Hard]: 2d6+2 12
• You inflict terrible harm (+1harm).
• You suffer little harm (-1harm).
• You force your enemy to withdraw.

Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at Oct 3, 2017 around 14:31

quiggy
Aug 7, 2010

[in Russian] Oof.





Cool+3 | Hard-2 | Hot+1 | Sharp+1 | Weird+1
1-armor | 0-barter | 6:00 harm | XP ○○○○○» | 1-advance


Alright I won't lie, I'm a little pissed that Max isn't here to accept his package, and I'm still more than a little pissed that I have no idea what the gently caress that business with the Churchgoers was. Also not sure how much I trust these Fan Club Boys, haven't had much interaction with them. If they kill the Ombudsman or take the package before we can deliver it there will absolutely be hell to pay, but at least Ombuds himself seems ok with them. gently caress I hate having to rely on other people.

There's only one thing for it--well, two or three I guess but some of those ain't available here--so I make my way down towards the Gull Hill Market looking for a bar. Don't got much jingle on me right now but it's enough to buy a drink or three and maybe bone down with someone for an hour or so, pass the time while I wait for these jagoffs to get back to me.

PoultryGeist
Feb 26, 2013

Crystals?

Fun Shoe


Hard =0 | Cool +2 | Hot -1 | Sharp +2 | Weird -1
Barter=3 | Harm=0:00 | Stock=4 | XP ●●●●○»

I roll my eyes at Mox’s question. ”Let the Record show that Practioner See is transferring Responsibility-for-Care of Patient Nati Tower-2 to Assisting Mox. Reasoning: Possible conflict of interest due to a personal relationship.” I glare at her smirk. “Yesss, I’ll be attending a social function with Ms. Tower-2 you nosiparker.” Mox easily sees through my facade, but I should at least try to sound put-upon so she and Shigusa don’t start making a habit of this. I shrug off the lab coat and throw on some clean scrubs and my traveling coat and mask. Its not full isolation, but the Marketplace is reasonably clean.

“And since you seem to think this is such a good idea, you get to stay here and make sure nothing goes wrong at the Infirmary while I go and pick up the parts we need from the Marketplace.” I pause in the doorway, my calm demeanor cracking slightly. “And... maybe some mascara? Is mascara appropriate for this Fresnel’s place? Do you still have mascara here?”

Captain Foo
May 11, 2004

the cyberpunk dystopia is now
you are not the runner


Clever Betty



Red, you make your way to BARONS THIRSTY SKULL and they’re mostly selling some homemade white lightning. It’s not particularly crowded in the the bar, and you hear some various conversations about the state of the Church, the fact that the radio station’s been run by someone else for longer than usual, that McElwain is deep in some sort of debt, and the bartender interrupts your listening, asking if you’re there to drink or if there’s something else on your mind. He’s BARONS, he says, and he doesn’t recognizes you. Not that it’s all that uncommon, but he’s been getting more regulars and fewer wanderers, lately. What do you do?

It is said, Vault, that in the apocrypha of the legend of Kobe, that there is a dark side; although the impossible shots that were made cannot be denied, there were thousands upon thousands of missed shots as well. But no matter, the myth exists for a reason, and Makepeace’s goons realize instants too late that they are hosed. And then shredded. In a bang and flash of shrapnel, her vanguard dissipates. Many in the stairway just die, and a few are flopping around, but Sickle and Crowbar come up firing, putting Leann out of her misery, among others. The couple of survivors, one of whom you recognize as Vino, survived mostly by being at the rear of the pack, and bail the hell out of there. You do notice that a couple of fragments have embedded themselves in your armor and one or two ripped your sleeves and clipped your arms. You’ll be fine, but that does sting. Take 1-harm. The only question now...do you press your advantage?

SeaDee See, Mox’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times; she bites her tongue; she is extremely bemused at this. It seems you have caught her rather off-guard, despite what she thought she was expecting. “First of all,” she says through a tongue-biting grin, “you’re going to Fresnel’s? Okay, nice. No mask. Just….don’t.” Then she continues in mock disbelief: “You know what mascara is? I’m kidding, but yes, it’s very appropriate for Fresnel’s. I should still have some, somewhere. Let me go find it!” And Mox heads back to her space, tittering to herself about “SeaDee See’s going on a date!” Again, you’ve got a moment to think. What’s going on in that brain of yours?

Comrade Gorbash
Jul 12, 2011

My paper soldiers form a wall, five paces thick and twice as tall.



Cool+1 | Hard+2 | Hot-1 | Sharp+1 | Weird=0 || Red+3 | See=0 | Max-1 || 9:00 harm | 2-armor | 3-barter | 2-stock | XP ●○○○○»

I watch Vino and the others withdraw. Shouldn't have bunched up like that. Consider rolling another grenade down to bring the point home, but there's more pressing issues.

"Above," I remind Crowbar and Sickle. I move across to the far side of the stairwell, slam into the wall, rifle pointed up. Nothing there yet, so I keep going. Get an angle to enfilade anyone coming down at us, and cover the door we came out of. "Got a kill box here. Let them come to it."

Still have NOT TO BE hosed WITH. Using the 416 (3-harm close autofire).

Defend Something You Hold [+Hard]: 2d6+2 11
• You inflict terrible harm (+1harm).
• You suffer little harm (-1harm).
• You hold it decisively against your enemy’s advance.
[/quote]

quiggy
Aug 7, 2010

[in Russian] Oof.





Cool+3 | Hard-2 | Hot+1 | Sharp+1 | Weird+1
1-armor | 0-barter | 6:00 harm | XP ○○○○○» | 1-advance


"Not surprising you don't recognize me," I say, taking a swig of moonshine. It's not bad, all things considered. "I ain't been to this bar before, and it's been a powerful long time since I came to Gull Hill. Last time I was here it was a radio tower and a few shacks around it, amazing how built up this place is now."

I suspect that there's poo poo that Barons–I don't give a gently caress if he feels the need to shout his own name, dude can go gently caress himself–isn't telling me. I also know that I've still got time to kill until the runner comes. Dude looks lonely, I could use some information... yeah I've got an idea.

"Say..." I put my drink down gently on the bar. "You've got a back room. I've got time to kill. You and I both know poo poo the other wants to know, both goings-on here and outside..." I adjust my shirt just a little, just enough to be suggestive. "What do ya say we, uh, question each other in the back room? If you catch my drift, that is."

Seduce Someone (+Hot): 2d6+1 9
What I want from Barons is as much information about the Church and goings-on in Gull Hill as he's willing to give me.

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PoultryGeist
Feb 26, 2013

Crystals?

Fun Shoe


Hard =0 | Cool +2 | Hot -1 | Sharp +2 | Weird -1
Barter=3 | Harm=0:00 | Stock=4 | XP ●●●●○»

I’m a bit started by Mox’s open glee, happily jumping over any professional boundaries there might be between a Practioner and her Assisting. But then again, isn’t this why I stole the Infirmary and headed into the Outlands? To escape the Tombs’ rigidness and insistence of its own cultural purity? Maybe I have farther to go before I throw off all of the baggage from my youth.

But I’m keeping the masks. They’re useful and fashionable, really the best kind of clothing.

I shake free of my musings, realizing that if I’m still here when Mox finds her mascara I’ll be stuck here all afternoon as various combinations are tried and rejected. “I need to hit the Market now so I can get back in time to get ready”, I call after her. I pause for a moment, a bit of Tombish privacy warring with my new resolution. “And my revlonics are in Drawer 38B, see what you like and we’ll discuss when I return.” I hurry out of the Infirmary, pausing only to grab the pack filled with clean water and smoked pigeon. Part of my payment for tending to the Towerfolk, and hopefully I can use it to get the parts needed to get the Infirmary mobile again.

(Heading to the Market with barter to try and score some parts. Should I do the barter move now or wait until I officially arrive?)

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