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sheep-dodger
Feb 21, 2013


Consider in your voting what dicepools each option has:
A is Manipulation (4) + Medicine (0) Total: 4
B is Manipulation (4) + Subterfuge (1) Total: 5
C is Manipulation (4) + Subterfuge (1) Total: 5
D is Presence (3) + Occult (4) Total: 7!

So our best option dice wise is D

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Harvey Baldman
Jan 11, 2011

ATTORNEY AT LAW
Justice is bald, like an eagle, or Lady Liberty's docket.


A.

Pedestrian Xing
Jul 18, 2007



BC

sheep-dodger
Feb 21, 2013


HiHo ChiRho posted:

Edit: changing vote from AD to DA

Those two are equivalent, Approval voting doesn't have a ranking mechanic, every option you vote for is weighted equally.

HiHo ChiRho
Oct 23, 2010

Then you remember. You have a message to send.

Something everyone must know.

You have the power. You have the means.

Let it be known.




ah for some reason I thought it was ranked choice

Sion
Oct 16, 2004

"I'm the boss of space. That's plenty."


Chapter 1 - QuickChek-ing In 3.

"I mean- Van Hagan's taking antipsychotic medication. He doesn't need to be shot, he needs help," you reply.

The cop looks at you curiously, and tilts his head. His lips work against each other for a moment. "gently caress," he muttered under his breath. "You got any evidence of this?"

"Pill bottles are in his car. It's Quetiapine which is an antipsychotic. I'm telling you, he just needs to be talked down. Have you even tried to talk to him?"

The cop frowned and nodded, looking over at the team that had stacked up by the door. He cleared his throat and snorted before shaking his head. "'f course we've tried talking to him."

The optics of it had changed pretty sharply now that they were aware he was unwell. If you could say 'we didn't know' it played a lot better on the news than saying 'someone told us, we show him anyway.' He made a hand motion to the team by the door who proceeded to fall back, a look of confusion appearing on their faces. He walked back over to his car and to the cop in charge of this who seemed more frustrated than anything else to hear about this. The cop you were speaking to a few moments ago motioned towards you and the lead raised a hand to beckon.

It was at this moment that Bryan walked up. He didn't want you talking to a cop without a lawyer present. He was a big believer in the idea that no one talking to the police had ever helped anyone but the police. The sheriff, the cop that busted you, your lawyer and yourself gathered around one of the black muscle cars that the police in Jersey drive. The sheriff looked you over quickly, sizing you up. Flinty eyes, mid 50s. Formerly a strong man that had spent too long behind a desk and riding in a car. Probably spent some time in the military before joining the force. You'd guess sometime in the mid 90s.

"Peters' says you found this guys pill bottle in his car?"

Bryan frowned and looked over at you. He gave that 'you searched someone's car?' look.

"Yeah-" you said, before being interrupted.

"And you know it's his how, exactly...?" asked the Sheriff.

"Well- there's a pill bottle in his truck for and it's his truck so-"

"And he's the only person that ever uses that truck? That might leave their poo poo laying in there? My partner leaves a copy of the Post in the back of our patroller every morning and I don't read that poo poo, but by your logic that newspaper's mine. You're wasting my loving time and endangering the lives of everyone in that store." He turned on the spot and called out. "Stack up!" The line of cops moved back into their positions carefully, weapons at low ready. The Sheriff had clearly decided how he was going to deal with whatever blowback there was on the news this evening.

gently caress.

One of the squad that was breaking in through the front waited for the go signal. The Sheriff reached down into his car and pulled out a bullhorn. "Last chance, Harry. Put the weapon down, an' come on outside with your hands above your head. No one needs to get hurt today but you're out of time, pal."

There's a pause, and the sheriff shrugs. "Can't say I didn't try," he muttered. He made another move with his hand and one of the cops by the door pulled it open.

The one opposite him moved in, stepped past a jerky-snack display and raised his handgun. He looked over the store - it was, thankfully, fairly quiet. Two people in green polo-shirts and hairnets behind the hot food counter. Two people in green polo-shirts behind the checkout. All four of them standing there with their hands up and looks of intense fear on their faces. The newspaper rack on the left wall was suddenly ripped red with a spray of viscera. The one cop that had made it into the room swore, aimed his weapon and took a few shots as Van Hagan as a second cop rounded the corner.

Harry was standing there, between the newspapers, the coolers in the back and the potato chips. There was a man kneeling before him facing away, his white t-shirt stained a deep, dark red from the six inch long, three inch deep cut running above his collar bone. The shots from earlier hit the wall behind Harry, breaking the glass of the display cases and busting open some soda bottles. Van Hagan looked up at the cop, a frenzied expression on his face,. Three holes had appeared in his shirt.

There was a scream. All of this transpired in less than two seconds. The next two seconds brought more mayhem. From your perspective, you can hear shots being fired, a scream, and then the sound of meat being hit with something sharp. The cop that had bust through the door stumbled backwards, a hatchet embedded in his shoulder. You could see it. An olive drab handle with black wrapping around the base of it. Three bolts down the hilt keeping the head in place. A vicious looking thing with a six inch long, curved front edge. The back edge looked like a dagger and the top edge had been sharpened. It was already red when it hit the cop square in the shoulder. You could see bone.

More shots fired and the hatchet pulled itself free of the cop before zipping out of view. More screaming.

Cops three and four had just rounded the corner by the time the second cluster of shots were fired. The medics that were in the ambulance rushed over to the doorway and started to pull the officer that had almost had his arm cleaved off to safety. Another cluster of shots followed by the sound of metal hitting the floor. The cops move in screaming and shouting for someone to get down, get down, get on the loving floor, put your hands behind your loving head and interlock your fingers, do it not.

That many shots and they're still giving orders to someone on the inside that they see as a threat? A couple of the shopkeepers charge out of the front door, right through the police lines. They look pretty shaken up. You recognise all of them. This store's just over the road from you, and you stop by there for breakfast or coffee most days. Kamala is one of the older people that works there. There are a lot of kids that finish high school and work there for a while before moving onto something else, but Kam's the one that's spent the most time there. She's management material. She's pulled clear and just looks around for someone that's not in a uniform that she knows. Seeing only you, she runs up and throws her arms around your neck and hugs in close.

"They shot him- they shot him and he didn't go down and- and- Hades, he sliced open that mans neck with his loving axe and then- and then the loving axe flew around the room and hit that police officer and- gently caress-!" she says, starting to ramble.

You take a moment to think about what to say next. "You're okay, you're safe now-
A - Do you- did he say anything?" (Presence + Empathy)
B - Are you sure he got hit? Gods, how was he still standing?" (Intellect + Firearms)
C - What happened?" (Composure + Integrity)
D - Don't worry, you're safe now. I'm going to try and take a look inside, see if I can help out there." (Dexterity + Subterfuge)


Shout out to the one guy that voted B and C.

You get the feeling you'll only get one question out of Kam before the medics will want to take her away. Each answer is going to give you different information. Two questions are specific and will give details about certain things. C is a broad strokes view of what happened from inside that'll give you a clear view of everything.

malbogio
Jan 19, 2015


CD

Not surprised this turned into a slaughter. Convincing a sheriff to rely on your medical expertise in a tense situation is hard when youve never even taken a CPR class, and they were entirely unprepared for the bigger magical factor in play.

Plus expecting a cop not to shoot someone waving a weapon around just because they are mentally ill is perhaps being a bit generous.

malbogio fucked around with this message at Apr 20, 2018 around 03:32

super sweet best pal
Nov 18, 2009

erhecktile disfunction

Lipstick Apathy

BD

JesterOfAmerica
Sep 11, 2015



This

Ripley
Jan 21, 2007


C

That went well!

Jossar
Apr 2, 2018


C

Whoops.

dont be mean to me
May 2, 2007

I'm interplanetary, bitch
Let's go to Mars




gently caress.

The cops were here to hunt the most dangerous game today.

gently caress.

AC

NinjaPete
Nov 14, 2004

Hail to the speaker,
Hail to the knower,
Joy to him who has understood,
Delight to those who have listened.

- Hávamál


AD

Natalie Fartman
Apr 5, 2013


AD

sheep-dodger
Feb 21, 2013


D

Sion
Oct 16, 2004

"I'm the boss of space. That's plenty."


Chapter 1 - QuickChek-ing In 4.

You take a moment to think about what to say next. "You're okay, you're safe now, don't worry, you're safe now. I'm going to try and take a look inside, see if I can help out there."

You gave Kam a hug and it only takes a few seconds for the medics to make their way over to her. She's taken from you, bundled up almost and led off to sit on the tailgate of one of the ambulances. The medic was clearly trained to deal with people that were in shock, and Kam was still babbling away, her mouth running at a hundred miles an hour. For your part, there's that awkward moment where you hold for a few seconds, searching for the best plan of attack. Well, the cops are all distracted now that the staff are out, and they're pulling their wounded out, so you could be pretty blatant about it. You give a look at Bryan which suggests 'maybe look away for this next bit' and he obliges, turning back to look at his car.You walk on up to the front door, look down at the ground and head on inside, quickly moving to duck behind a counter.

It's easy enough for you to look around and you're still near the door. There's six or seven spent casings on the floor nearby, a large bloodstain on the floor. You reach up and grab a pair of latex gloves off the counter, presumably for when handling hot food, and slide them on in a bit of a hurry. The cops are swarming around Harry who's still on the ground, on his front, hands on the back of his head. The hatchet is on the floor in front of him. There's a lot of screaming and shouting. The body of someone, presumably from the Sonoma family, is laying on the ground near Harry. There's a huge, dark red puddle on the ground there. Harry doesn't look like he's been shot. There's six impacts in the refrigerator behind him, huge plastic bottles bust open.

They're screaming down at him, angry and swearing. You can barely make out what Harry's saying as he looks up at them, wide eyed and with dilated pupils. Even the bits of what he's saying that aren't being drowned out don't make sense. He's not speaking in English, if he's even saying words. "Nou te resevwa sa nou bezwen soti nan cheval la..." He smiles, even as his eyes start to fill back in again. He's not struggling, he's not even resisting. He's cooperating with the police every step of the way.

That military-looking hatchet is on the floor. You can sense the magic flooding off it, and off of Harry. Now that you're close enough, it feels like the two of them are in magical lock-step.

"You have the right to remain silent-"

"-ezwen soti nan cheval-"

"May be used against you-"

"Nou te resevwa sa no-"

"Do you understand the rights I have just-"

"Plis plis kote li te soti-i-iegh-Ah! Aaaah!"

Harry just started screaming. He buckled sharply as the cop that had straddled his back and was handcuffing him was hit in the face and chest by a bright red blood spray. Then another. Then another. In total, six blasts of bright red blood shot out of Harry's back. You've never seen anything like it in your life. Six delayed action gunshot exit wounds appeared on him. The cops started to scream, but no one was louder than Harry who screamed like he was being turned inside out. It was like something out of a horror movie, playing out in rural New Jersey. Suddenly, every shot that had hit him seemed to come in at the same time. There's a moment of panic which washes over you. It's almost too much as you kneel there behind the counter, thinking what the hells could possibly cause something like that to happen. There's one word in there that stuck out to you. You have no idea what could cause someone to ignore being shot for a minute or so, only to have all of the damage come in at once, though.

The word that sticks out is Cheval. One of the core abilities of the rsh and Loa... It allows for the possession of someone, but- gently caress, the details are escaping you right now. What would the rsh want with this familial conflict, though?

You look over at the cops that are standing up slowly, looking down in shocked, bloodsoaked horror. One of them turns and screams "Medic!" at the top of his fracturing, quaking voice. "loving- Get a doctor, I don't-!"

The magic has left Harry, but it's still in the axe.

You-

A - Reach out and take the axe. The cops haven't noticed it and they're all distracted. There's dangerous magic in there and none of them are even slightly prepared to handle whatever tornado of poo poo is residing inside it. (Dex + Subterfuge)
B - Head over to Harry. Maybe he's got a last breath in him where he can explain what's going on? (Presence + Integrity)
C - Get the gently caress out of here. If Harry did this at random then maybe the rest of the Sonoma family are in danger. (No roll)
D - Get the gently caress out of here. If Harry did this, then maybe the rest of the Van Hagan clan are involved in it. (No roll)


You look at the black and white screen behind the counter. There's surveillance footage of what's gone on in here - you managed to avoid the cameras while getting behind this counter - and that information is going to mean a lot more to you than it will to the cops. They're not equipped to handle what you think is coming down the pipe at them. There's a little portable harddrive attached to the screen.

You-

E - Pull the harddrive. You can get over the road, make a copy of it, and get it back here before anyone notices it's gone. (Cunning + Technology)
F - Leave it alone. It's just not worth the risk.

dont be mean to me
May 2, 2007

I'm interplanetary, bitch
Let's go to Mars




1 AD
2 E

JesterOfAmerica
Sep 11, 2015


1. AD
2. E

sheep-dodger
Feb 21, 2013


A
E

malbogio
Jan 19, 2015


A
E

Lord Zedd-Repulsa
Jul 21, 2007

Devour a good book.



AD
E

super sweet best pal
Nov 18, 2009

erhecktile disfunction

Lipstick Apathy

AC
E

Jossar
Apr 2, 2018


A
E

Sion
Oct 16, 2004

"I'm the boss of space. That's plenty."


Chapter 1 - Snatch and Grab 1

You reach out and take the axe. The cops haven't noticed it and they're all distracted. There's dangerous magic in there and none of them are even slightly prepared to handle whatever tornado of poo poo is residing inside it. It's surprisingly light considering the amount of metal there is. A green metal handle, a few bolts down the shaft holding the three-bladed head in place. It looks like one of those military spec-hatchets and it feels balanced like it too; the kind of thing that you'd buy off the internet. The blade was surprisingly clean considering what it'd just been used to do. Just a thin line of red along the very blade of the leading edge. All of the cops were looking the other way and, well, extremely distracted given the Bellagio fountain-of-blood that just erupted out of an otherwise healthy human being.

You hold the axe in your hands for a few seconds before turning around and reaching for the hard drive. You know that it doesn't even need to be shut down before it can be detached. You yank it free and sneak out the front of the store. Everyone's still distracted, but Bryan is standing there watching you. His jaw slackens and his eyes go wide before he heads on over towards you.

"Loki's rear end, what've you-" he paused, realising that any more information would be a dangerous thing. He held up his hands. "Actually, don't." He walked with you over the road and back up towards your apartment.

You punch in the doorcode and then pull the door open. The latex gloves from the counter were a really good pickup, thinking about it for a moment. Bryan follows you inside, glancing over his shoulder as he went. Now that you had a moment to feel the axe inside your jacket, it was- it felt weird. Warmer than it should have done; lighter, too. "Careful what you look at in here," you mutter as you open the door into your apartment.

"You don't have to tell me twice," he said. He stopped in the kitchen and stood there for a moment, looking around before sighing. He went over to the sink and, for reasons best known to himself, made a start on some of the dirty dishes.

What first, you thought to yourself.

Well, it made sense to-
A - Check the hard drive first. Maybe eliminate the footage of us being in the store, too. (Intellect + Technology)
B - Research the axe. It could self-propel, was magic, felt weird and the last person to hold it with their bare hands was able to ignore getting shot and mentioned the word Cheval. (Intellect + Occult)

JesterOfAmerica
Sep 11, 2015


A

super sweet best pal
Nov 18, 2009

erhecktile disfunction

Lipstick Apathy

A

Sion
Oct 16, 2004

"I'm the boss of space. That's plenty."


I was editing the post right after I put it up because I was like 'we're just going to do both of these things why is this even a choice.' Another post incoming soon.

Sion
Oct 16, 2004

"I'm the boss of space. That's plenty."


Chapter 1 - Snatch and Grab 1 (cont)

You make your move and plug the hard drive into your computer. There's a few weeks worth of footage here but it's broken up into hourly files. The most recent one, when clicked on, begins to play, its footage pretty easily searchable using the timebar at the bottom of the screen. Just the last five minutes. It's not exactly high-def but you can make out faces.

There's a guy in a suit that comes in, buys a coffee from one of the fountains, orders some hot food, buys a newspaper, collects his hot food, pays and exits. Same thing happens again only without the newspaper and with a second cup of coffee. You click through a few more times and you see the victim walk in. You'll probably associate white t-shirts with bloodstains for a few weeks. There's also probably some trauma that's going to need to get unpacked but that's a problem for another day. He heads over to the hot food counter, orders something, makes some small talk before going over to the coffee fountains. You get a screenshot of his face.

His back is to the door and the folks behind the counters are working. Distracted. They don't see Harry Van Hagan walk in, twirling an axe around his hand as he goes. Honestly, he looks a little bit like he's leading a marching band, a big, broad smile being worn by a man that doesn't seem to be all there. He points the axe at Sonoma and calls something out. Sonoma glances over, puts his paper coffee cup down and sighs. He holds his hands up. Van Hagan shouts something and then in the blink of an eye is over. You check the timeline to make sure there's not some missing frames or something; he moved with an inhuman speed, sliding into position behind Sonoma, an arm around his shoulders, the blade of the axe up close to his throat. He's dragging him over to the other side of the room as Kam stands behind the counter, reaching and pressing a panic button.

A very tense few minutes pass with Van Hagan pulling the axe away from the Sonoma guy. There looks to be shouting. Screaming even. Van Hagan looks deeply unhappy one moment and then a picture of serenity the next. He drops the axe not once, not twice but three times. He howls, punching himself in the side of the head. You'd assume that he's deep in some kind of mania; a psychotic break that's going extremely poorly for everyone involved. If you hadn't heard the word Cheval you'd assume the worst.

He pulls out his phone at one point - presumably to talk to one of the cops that was calling him from outside. The phone goes back in his pocket after a couple of seconds. You must have been outside at this point. There's a group of cops visible through a camera pointed at the door. They move away. And then they move back in. And then they enter.

Even in black and white it's traumatic to look at. Sonoma's neck is sliced open and there's a long, slow spray of blood that spills down onto the floor and then along the magazine rack. Van Hagan pushes the body forwards and it slumps down onto the floor. The cops open fire and you can tell that the shots make their mark. You can see Van Hagan jerk and shudder at the hits, his shirt ripping open at the front and the back. You can see the refrigerators behind him him break as they're shot. There's no blood. The axe flies out of his hand and into the shoulders of one of the cops, nearly slicing his arm off, before it makes like a boomerang and flies back into Van Hagans hand. At the last second, though, he moves his hand away from the axe and up to his head where he grips his temples, screaming in internalised agony.

The cops rush him. You sneak in and behind the counter. That part gets edited out by you moments later.

Van Hagan's back explodes six times with gunshot wounds appearing after he's been pinned to the ground. The axe is on the ground in front of him. The cops are stunned at what they've seen. One of them calls for a medic. You reach out and grab the axe and get it the gently caress out of there.

The last twenty seconds are deleted. The file is saved. The hard drive is unplugged.

"Hey, Bryan?" you call.

"What?"

"You wanna go drop this back in at the store?"

"Drop what," he said, turning and walking into the room. He looked down at the portable hard drive and blinked. "Is that- Alright, gently caress it," he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a paper napkin he'd picked up from some diner or another. He grabbed the top of the portable drive. "Next to the cashier's counter?"

"That's the one," you reply. "Thanks, I'll owe you one."

The lawyer sighed and shook his head, muttering something about how smart people can often be so drat stupid. The handaxe is on the desk next to you and, still wearing the latex gloves from before, you pick it up gingerly and begin to inspect it. You begin to get a good sense of what's going on here. Between the Cheval phrase that was used and the look on Van Hagan's face as a man whos will wasn't entirely his own, you reason that there are a few simple enough experiments to run on this. You hold the axe in a gloved hand and spin it around a couple of times. Nothing unusual there. It's well balanced, very sharp. Handling it doesn't have any special magical properties.

You strike it against the desk. No unearthly notes coming out of it.
You give it a sniff and there's a faint scent of tobacco smoke.
You throw it into the air and it falls back down to the ground, with no apparent magical flight given to it.
You take a few pictures of it and check them. No extra-spectral beings coming off it.
You lean in and listen close for any unusual sounds coming from it and...

You swear you hear something whispering in your ear. Impossibly high and impossibly low voices whispering. A collection of them speaking a language you can't make out and in a tone that seems difficult to track.

You-
A - Take off the glove and hold it with your bare hand. (No Roll)
B - Place the axe down. There's gotta something in one of your research documents about this kind of thing, right? It's tough to say how much more you'd get out of that. (Resolve + Occult)
C - There's got to be a spirit in there. You could set up a summoning ritual and give that a try, but that'd be pretty risky. (Presence + Occult)

JesterOfAmerica
Sep 11, 2015


BC

super sweet best pal
Nov 18, 2009

erhecktile disfunction

Lipstick Apathy

A

Obey.

Ripley
Jan 21, 2007


BD

Research is what we do best.

Edit: sheep-dodger has good ideas.

Ripley fucked around with this message at Apr 24, 2018 around 21:14

sheep-dodger
Feb 21, 2013


BD
D - Write-in: Cheval is a French word, and the rest of the utterings sound like it could be a French creole/pidgin language, possibly from Haiti, which is also big on voodoo. Focus our research specifically on that, maybe call up somebody from the linguistics department that specialises in Circum-Carribbean creoles or something related.

Sion
Oct 16, 2004

"I'm the boss of space. That's plenty."


So, given our characters spectacular knowledge of the occult I've put together a little bit of an info dump, copied direct from the Scion core book...

The rsh of Yorbland

After the flood you know the one a golden chain descended from Heaven. Either Obtl or Odduw, depending whom you ask, brought down a seashell full of dirt and a five-toed chicken. The creator spilled soil upon the face of the waters. The chicken pecked, spreading it into continents. Then the rsh descended the chain to prepare the World. We call the place where the World was made Il-If, place of expansion. Here, in West Africa, the rsh looked after the flourishing Yorb kingdoms while their neighbors, the Vodun, cared for Dahomeys Fon people.

The rsh and the Vodun. Two lands. Two peoples. Two pantheons, side by side since time immemorial. Thus the story was supposed to go until human greed and villainy betrayed, kidnapped, tortured, enslaved, and brainwashed Africans. The trans-Atlantic slave trade shattered lives, families, and religions. Myriad peoples whom evil made one pieced them together anew from broken bones and half-remembered songs, all hidden behind a Christian veil.

The Vodun (now more popularly known as the Loa) and the rsh could have stayed behind, true to themselves to the bitter end. Instead, they rode the slave ships, tasted the lash, and laid down their lives for freedom in Haitis revolution and Brazils quilombos. They chose to change, to shatter and reform like humanity. These are the results.

Slavery and its aftermath have fragmented and reconstituted rsh and Loa identities frequently and forcefully and will continue to do so, perhaps before your eyes. Different regions, religions, and worshippers diverge on not only names and stories, but also familial relationships, genders, even ethnicities. If other deities are atoms, with a cloud of uncertainty orbiting a static core, rsh and Loa are quantum particles. Even an individual Afro-Atlantic religionist may recognize many Mantles, or caminos as Cubans call them, in a single rshs identity.

Principle Members

sh Elgbar, the Opener of the Way.
bej, the Sacred Twins.
Mormi, the Greatest Yorb Hero.
Obtl, the King of the White Cloth.
Odduw, the God-King of Il-If.
gn, the God of Iron
rsh-Oko, the God of Agriculture.
rnml, the Power of Divination.
sanyn, the God of Herbal Medicine.
Oshss, the Bowhunter.
Òshun, Goddess of Cool Sweet Water.
Oya Iyansan, Goddess of the River Niger.
Shng, the King Who Did Not Hang.
Snpnn, God of Smallpox.
Yemoja-Oboto, Queen of the Sea.

Cheval / Gn

Through sacred drumming, dance, and ceremony, worshippers enter into a sacred trance state that makes room for the Gods to enter into them. The rsh use the Yoruba word for this possession, Gn, while the Loa refer to it as Cheval to describe the way they mount the possessed person, as though they were a horse.

Spirits leave when they are ready to leave, but don't stay out of malice and they never overstay their welcome. They want one last meal, one last drink, or one last smoke. This ritual is a deeply rare thing to see; No Loa or rsh will ever take possession of a follower without that followers permission.

The reaction that Van Hagan seemed to have, where he was pounding on his own head and screaming is very far removed from the usually extremely positive experience that comes from Cheval use.

Specifics of how it works and the exact mechanisms Cheval operates under are a closely guarded secret, and it is unlikely that the Van Hagans have access to it.

Sion fucked around with this message at Apr 24, 2018 around 23:52

Jossar
Apr 2, 2018


BD

I dunno Mr. Axe, you seem just the sliiiiightest bit untrustworthy. Just a gut feeling.

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dont be mean to me
May 2, 2007

I'm interplanetary, bitch
Let's go to Mars




sheep-dodger posted:

BD
D - Write-in: Cheval is a French word, and the rest of the utterings sound like it could be a French creole/pidgin language, possibly from Haiti, which is also big on voodoo. Focus our research specifically on that, maybe call up somebody from the linguistics department that specialises in Circum-Carribbean creoles or something related.

This and a bonus at ssbp for wanting to touch this thing barehand.

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