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 Added the location Old Machine to the map in the OP; this is where Liliana currently is. Torch You manage to wrestle the knife from the drunk, but not before he slashes at your armor, cutting a deep gash in it. Blessedly, there's no pain--that's why you're wearing armor in the first place--but you quickly think to yourself that getting that repaired soon wouldn't be the worst idea. Regardless, you manage to grab the knife out of his hands and toss him to the ground, then climb on top and hold the knife to his throat. His face is badly bleeding from the broken bottle and his eyes are wide with fear. It's at this moment that Bago, hearing the commotion, returns to find you with a knife to the throat of one of his regular patrons. "What the gently caress Torch!" he screams. "First you have the absolute gall to come back here after what you did, and then you get inna fight with a regular of mine? Get the gently caress out right now, and if I ever catch you hangin' round my neck of the woods again Imma gut you like a loving fish like I should've the last time we met, ya dig?" What do you do? You would've taken 2-harm, but you've got 2-armor that negates it. The armor's got a gash in it now, it's still functional, but a few more hits like that and it'll be no better than rags. Liliana The crowd stops for a moment, unsure of what to make of you. Then, it parts, allowing a woman to step through and walk towards you. Her skin is jet black and heavily pierced and ornamented, her head half-shaved, her clothing ornate yet functional leather pants and jacket. On her hip is strapped a sawed-off shotgun, and although you cannot see one, you are certain her boots hide at least one knife for if she should need it. The woman approaches you, standing about halfway between the crowd and you. Every other person seems to stand at attention, waiting to hear from her. "Big Rod sent you? Strange, he didn't seem interested in helping our holy quest. I am called Dirt Home, and these are my crew. Mostly, anyway. Who are you? For what reason have you truly come here, because I know Big Rod didn't pay to send you out this way." What do you do? I edited the answers into the last post after our Discord discussion, if you need them for reference they're up there. Burns Another shot whizzes by you as you veer the bike away from the road and down towards the riverbed. There's a brief pause as your pursuers try to decide if it's worth chasing you off-road, giving you a moment to a think. Just a moment though. The bike clips a large rock you somehow missed in the commotion, flipping onto its side and sliding down the steep riverbank. You're hurled off of it and land hard in the dirt, then tumble down after the bike towards the bottom. For a few brief moments you can think of nothing, only the panic and adrenaline of the moment, and when you snap to, you're lying face-down in the muddy riverbed and can tell you've gotten properly hosed up. Looking up the hill, you see your pursuers have gotten off their vehicles and are now running down the riverbank at you, guns drawn. Your SCAR is nowhere to be seen, and your bike is probably a bit too far to get to safely, considering the situation. What do you do? Your bike suffers 2-harm from the crash, 1-harm of which blows through to you. This is in addition to 2-harm from hitting the ground at full speed and sliding down the rocky shore, for a total of 3-harm. Armor applies, so you take a total of 1-harm. Triage Surgery is never pretty, and amputation even less so. No matter how many times you do it, the feeling of cutting through bone with a saw will always take you back to the first time you did it, when you were still fresh-faced, before you had seen the things men do to other men. But this is no act of bandits or Sparkers or self-proclaimed heroes, this is something far worse. The bonesaw slips, shattering the bone near the shoulder and severing the brachial artery. Blood gushes out of the half-severed arm, get all over your haz-suit and covering the floor of First Response. That'll be a bitch to clean up for sure, but first you need to make a decision, and fast. Blood loss like that could kill Tiny in short order if you don't do something about it, but if you do, she'll never be able to get any techgeek to fashion a prosthetic that actually interfaces properly with her. Here-Not-There doesn't seem like the kind of leader who wants one-armed muscle, but he'd be pissed if she died on the bed too. You need to make a choice, doc: save Tiny's life and destroy it in the process, or let your patient bleed out on the operating table. What do you do? quiggy fucked around with this message at 20:44 on Aug 31, 2018 |
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Aug 30, 2018 16:37
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 Cool=0 Hard-1 Hot-1 Sharp+2 Weird+3 | 0:00 | 1-armor | 4-barter | x x o o > | 1-advance Liliana smiles, a like mind. She always find the religiously inclined easier to connect with. She pulls her car up to the lady, nice and slow, and turns off the engine - steps out of the car with her hands held high. "You right. Offer no pay. Tell me there is old machine." She puts her hands in her pockets, tries her best to look nonchalant while she watches the woman's posture. Liliana always found the silent language of hands and eyes and muscles easier than spoken language. "I too look for knowledge. God-machines speak to me. Touch mind years ago. Give me understanding of old-machines." She leans against Roz for emphasis, no doubt none of them had ever seen anything like her, and she does love the attention. "Combine with Spark knowledge, make best engineer in wasteland." Liliana's fingers follow the curve of Roz's hood, the smooth (recently waxed, Roz does love a good waxing) hood helps ground her, make sure her accent doesn't get quite as unintelligible as usual. "But you want me leave, I leave." A hand on the door handle, half as a bluff and half because she'd rather be ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. ------------------------------ Reading Dirt Home: 2d6+2 8 as we discussed on Discord Liliana wants to know how to get this lady to let her look at the huge vehicle behind them.
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Aug 30, 2018 17:06
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 Cool+3 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 2-armor | x o o o > I stand up, letting the guy drop. Still can't place him. Almost as annoying as Bago hollering at me. I pull some jingle out of my pocket, slam that and the knife point down into the bar, leave the blade vibrating slightly and the jingle clattering across. "You decide to try it, bring a bigger knife than your boy here." I pick up my pack and walk out of the Truck Stop at the End of the World, back to the Hunter-Killer. Spent plenty of nights on the road. Might as well get this job done sooner. loving A-Town.
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Aug 30, 2018 17:13
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 Cool+3 Hard+1 Hot=0 Sharp+1 Weird-nil | 3:00 | 2-armor | 3-barter | x x x o > Suffer Harm: 2d6+1 5 gently caress. Me. Goddamnit. Ow. Anything broken? No, not on me at least. Thank God for kevlar and ceramic plating. Best road leathers a girl can ask for. Rifle flew off somewhere. Pat my thigh, sidearm's still there. Okay Shannon, how's your quick draw? You been practicing? Of course not. Been having too much fun playing Big Dick Supersoldier, lording over the locals. Seems like they're gonna be the ones standing over you in a few minutes. They've got range on you, they can sit back and pick you off no sweat, unless you give 'em something to find cover from. Rip that UNP out of its holster and give yourself some breathing room, and make a break for the SCAR. Seize By Force: 2d6+1 8 Pick 2: • You take definite and undeniable control of it. • It’s safe, secure, and undamaged in the fighting
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Aug 30, 2018 17:16
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 Cool+1 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+2 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 1-armor | 1-barter | x x x x > gently caress. I ain't made a rookie miss like that since back when I first picked up my first saw. 'Course, my course goin' forward is clear. I can fix anything given time, past dead. Probably, anyways, and I've a few thoughts on that too. But the arm? Yeah, gently caress, it'll be tough and even with all that I can probably get Tiny gunnin' down little ol' ladies again. Can't say the same if she's a stiff. She bleeds out a moment, I quickly call, "Bio on the floor! Stay fuckin' well clear, but toss me one of the clot injectors and some reddener!" The requested items come sailing my way, can't see who did it, but I'm on this poo poo. The auto-injectors do some real wizard poo poo, micro-netting or whatever the gently caress making a perfect seal on the artery, and then it's just a moment longer to make some blood soup and hook up an IV to replenish 'er fluids. Paintin' on some new flesh should do All that to say, we've got a touch of time to deal with the mess before I haveta figure how I'm going to explain this poo poo to Tiny, let alone her murderin' boss. I ain't about to toss her right out, the arm maybe, but I figure Tiny can stick with if Here-not-There is gonna throw her to the wolves. Long enough to figure out an arm at least, like I said I would, but I'll cross that bridge if she wants in on an ongoing basis. Or, y'know, if she tries to choke me out with her last lanky arm.
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Aug 31, 2018 17:01
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Liliana Dirt Home steps towards you unafraid, her hands outstretched. "Hand me your weapons," she says, her voice remaining perfectly still in the face of danger, "and we can go back inside and talk." The people behind her--cultists, maybe?--keep their weapons drawn on you, but none seems to dare to act without Dirt Home's blessing. Dirt Home, for her part, seems totally unafraid of you, but at the same time isn't about to welcome you so long as she believes you to be a threat. You know immediately that you either have to prove yourself not a threat, or get the gently caress out of there quickly. What do you do? Torch Bago doesn't say poo poo to you as you leave, but you can feel his cold, hateful stare on you as you walk out the door into the crisp morning air. gently caress him. You climb back into Hunter-Killer and leave A-Town, heading north towards the place the Madame told you about. The journey takes a few hours, and by the time you arrive the sun has risen, clearly illuminating what can only be the correct place. From the hill atop which you parked, you can see a great pre-Fall vehicle the size of which you have never even conceived of, half-buried in the dirt and mud and jutting into the air. A group of people dressed in rags and waster clothes and armed to the teeth are standing outside in a semicircle, while two women speak to each other. One of them you would wager is the leader of the armed crew, given how she stands in the middle of the semicircle and seems to issue commands from time to time to various members, but you have no idea who the other one could be. She seems an outsider, carefully sticking close to a car you can only assume is hers as she talks. Everyone seems to be too distracted to notice you from your perch, giving you the perfect opportunity to survey the place and form a plan of action, whatever that happens to be. What do you do? Burns It's been a while since you used a gun--who knows how many decades you were frozen in there--but your reflexes kick in quick. A single squeeze of the pistol trigger lodges a bullet directly between the eyes of the thug with the rifle, blowing his brains out and dropping him to the ground. At almost the same instant the second thug, the one with a pistol of his own, pulls the trigger, landing a shot directly on your chest. The body armor absorbs the hit, thank the gods for whatever pre-Fall tech is in this thing, but it still loving hurts. Nevertheless, you manage to grab the SCAR, and quickly note that it was unharmed in the crash. The thug, for his part, curses loudly in Spark and ducks behind a rock for cover. You lose sight of him, but you're sure he's taking a quick pause to figure out his options and regroup, giving you this brief window to act. What do you do? Pistol shots are 2-harm, but you've got 2-armor, so it's negated. Still hurts like a bitch though. Triage During the rest of the time Tiny is out, you manage to scrub up most of the blood from the ground and get it safely in a haz-box, along with the infected arm. You're not sure if whatever the gently caress Tiny had was something in the blood, but certainly better safe than sorry to get as much of that poo poo into the box as possible. You'll need to spend some more time at some point giving the First Response a full head-to-toe cleaning if you want to be sure, but this should be good enough for now. Now all you gotta do is dispose of that haz-box somewhere no one will find it. Tiny wakes up slowly and in a daze. You've got some of the best knockout drugs in the wastes, but they're still harsh and unpleasant for even the toughest folk to experience. Tiny blinks slowly a few times and gurgles some, trying to get words out and figure out what's going on. It clearly takes her a moment or two to even remember where she is, but then in a sudden start sits up and looks at her arm. Well, where her arm was. "Aw gently caress, Doc," she moans. "The gently caress you do to me?" The painkillers are still working their magic, keeping her from passing out again from the severed limb, but you suspect it won't be long until they wear off too. There's a sharp knock on the door of the First Response. It's Here-Not-There, their voice muffled through the metal doors. "Ey, is that Tiny I hear in there? How's she doin', doc?" What do you do?
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Aug 31, 2018 20:51
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Cool=0 Hard-1 Hot-1 Sharp+2 Weird+3 | 0:00 | 1-armor | 4-barter | x x o o > | 1-advance "OK. Have shotgun. Will get. Pop out shells. Hand gun to you." She grabs it from the cradle behind her driver's seat. It's an over-under she made herself after getting annoyed with the quality of firearms out here in the Waste compared to Spark gear. Even if this was a trap, she could always get the materials for another. Top barrel is rifled for a slug, and the bottom is always loaded with birdshot with a half-choke. She pops them both out, puts the shells in a shirt pocket, then steps back towards the car with her hands still up. "We OK now? If so, want to drive car up to your home - have big tool chest in trunk, will need for work." The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 04:13 on Sep 1, 2018 |
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Aug 31, 2018 21:04
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Cool+3 Hard+1 Hot=0 Sharp+1 Weird-nil | 3:00 | 2-armor | 3-barter | x x x o > Hahahahahaahahahahaahahaha not so tough now motherfucker, huh? Not a scratch on the rifle. Thank God for the boys at Fabrique Nationale, whatever the hell happened to them when the world went to poo poo, I hope it was at least quick and painless. Cycle the bolt quickly to make sure we're in business, and it's time to flush this rear end in a top hat out. Gotta be careful, lost track of the third guy, don't know what he's packing, could blindside me if I'm not careful. I got lucky with that first shot exchange. Assault a Secure Position: 2d6+1 8 Pick 2: • You suffer little harm (-1harm). • You force your way into your enemy’s position.
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Aug 31, 2018 21:49
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Cool+3 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 2-armor | x o o o > I watch the meet and greet below through an old 'nocular. Even with a cracked lens and blurry image, better than just naked eye. Parked the Hunter-Killer on the reverse slope of a rise and crawled up here. The wasters look like some loving cult, and the one they're talking to is probably a Sparker, unless she's out of Mainframe. Might be a complication. Might be here for whatever the locals took off Madame's courier. Can't hear them and they don't look like they're going to start shooting each other - yet - so I scan the area. Take in the weapons, the numbers. Look for vehicles. Work my way over to the pre-Fall titan. "The gently caress that thing come from," I grumble to myself. Madame was right, I know the territory around here. Never seen this monster before. Looks like it's been here a while. Hard to imagine missing it... maybe they dug a whole loving hill out to get to it. Thought maybe I'd been sold out when I saw it. But it's just another wasteland hold, from the looks. Might be hard to crack if they hole up in it, though. Have to figure a way to catch them out so they can't just sit behind a hatch and make obscene gestures at me. Sieges aren't my thing. Was thinking on the drive up, way to do this was hit a patrol or raiding party. Something smaller. Take it out, take their gear. Makes them weaker and me stronger. Maybe do that a couple times, knock the group down enough to tackle them head on. Handled raiders that way before. These aren't just raiders. Might have to come up with a different plan. Read a Sitch (+Sharp): 2d6+1 8 • Which enemy is most vulnerable to me? Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at 04:55 on Sep 1, 2018 |
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Sep 1, 2018 01:08
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Cool+1 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+2 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 1-armor | 1-barter | x x x x > Cleanin' First Response is always a helluva thing, double-so when you've got some real wildfire poo poo runnin' around. Still, I ain't got time to worry about that just yet. I need to get Tiny with the program quick-like, get Here-not-There off my rear end, and then make some headway on gettin' the tech I need to stop this before it gets out of hand. Hell, at this point, I'll settle for one of the three. That's a pretty tall ask with the day I've been having, but gently caress it. One of these days Karma'll come around, that beautiful stranger, and poo poo'll be all right. Meetin' her gaze, as much as I can through the mask, I say, "Be cool, Tiny. poo poo was way worse than it looked from the surface. I needed to go a little higher than I was expecting to ensure it ain't gonna tunnel up and pop out somewhere else. So, yeah, your arm's hosed. I can fix it, I promise you that much, but ain't nobody gonna fix it if your boss caps me and mine." Alright, sure, a bit of a lie and a touch of truth. That's what bedside manner's all about, right? Tellin' people it'll be fine when it sure as hell isn't? I always was pretty good at that bit. "So, you and me, we're going to take care of this. Here's gonna flip, don't I know it, and I'm gonna need you right there with me talkin' him down. Once he's out, I can get started trackin' the poo poo I'm gonna need to fix you up with a new arm." I keep lookin' at Tiny, giving her that 'play ball, it's gonna go just fine if you do' look, and raise my voice to say to Here-not-There, "Yeah, man, Tiny's up. Things were a little worse than I thought with the infection, but she ain't gonna be spreadin' that gunk in your crew no more. I'll open up once I'm sure this poo poo won't infect anyone, aight?" Manipulate Tiny: 2d6+1 10 Stay cool, cause I'm a fuckin' angel and can fix you up right. It might just take a bit. Related: What would the project Fix Tiny up with a new goddamn arm! look like in terms of requirements?
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Sep 1, 2018 01:14
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 Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp=0 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 1-barter | x x o o > "Nah, don't wax her, Dameame. Nice job on the cleanup. Go give the rig a onceover, I'll handle Cherry-on-top here if she's fuckin' lying. Doubt she is, though." I waggle the machete in its sling. "Or grab a healthy boi if you can't give a climb with that arm," I shout back to Dameame. "Get cleaned up if you need to." "Now," I say, turning back to the girl, "I think you've figured out what's about to happen." I'm scanning the terrain through the busted-out windows of the cab, looking for any smaller road. I'd like to just peel off the Demon, but you've gotta have some sort of surface. Got one. "Assuming you live past the next ten minutes or so," I grin, "we're gonna go about five minutes down that road off there to the right and park the rig roadblock." Someone pulls up. "Oh good, Cadencecrest. Listen, I'm just explaining the plan to our new driver here. We're gonna be going down that road a short way," I reiterate, pointing, and then continue. "Then we shank the tires, and you've got a choice, Cherry-on-top. Either you take as much poo poo as you can carry and start fuckin' walking or you hang out with us until we decide to leave. Your call." I look at Cadencecrest and she casually agrees with the plan, not that she really has much say either way. "Let the Crags know what we're gonna be doing, Cadencecrest. We'll be rolling shortly." I turn my attention back to Cherry-on-top. "So in the meantime, why exactly are they having you drive?"
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Sep 4, 2018 18:25
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Liliana Dirt Home eyes you suspiciously, but takes the gun and waves you forward anyway. The assembled group of armed guards parts, allowing you to pull Roz past them and into the great metal behemoth. Whatever the purpose of this vehicle was before the fall, it seems clear as you enter it that it was designed at least in part for transport of other, smaller vehicles. Two people work to lift a large metal gate and open up an entrance to a large bay, which despite being slightly tilted away from level by whatever force buried the titan in the dirt is more than drivable enough. You and Roz enter the bay, and are greeted with a flood of temporary lights powered by a series of gasoline generators around the large open vehicle bay. Inside, the people led by Dirt Home have set up something of a ramshackle village. A few people live in small offices off to the side of the primary vehicle bay, but most live in small tents or ramshackle metal shelters inside the bay itself. The population is much more diverse than you might have expected--it's not all muscle like you might anticipate of a street gang, but instead in addition to the strong and violent there are many elderly people, disabled people, and even children living here. All told the population is probably somewhere around 60 souls, and you'd wager maybe two-thirds of those are actually physical threats. Dirt Home waves you over towards a side room, its door flanked on either side by guards carrying semi-automatic rifles. She doesn't say anything, but clearly wishes to speak with you in private. You notice that, in the brief moments since you pulled in, she's strapped a knife on her hip that wasn't there before. What do you do? Torch As you watch, the stranger climbs back into her car and follows several of the gathered group back inside of the machine. Who's to say what that machine actually was back before the Fall, but from what you can tell it sure looks like these bandits have turned it into some kind of makeshift shelter. Seems pretty strong too, would be hard to crack that nut even with a full dedicated army at your disposal. Still, from your elevated position it's not hard to find a weak point. Across the front, the denizens have built a makeshift overlook platform and watchtower out of scrap wood and sheet metal. A few guards patrol it, but nothing you couldn't handle provided things didn't go terribly wrong. In particular, along the northernmost edge of the platform you spy one guard in particular, a young woman of perhaps 18 or 19 years, not paying full attention to her duties and standing dangerous close to both the edge of the platform--and an active generator with a can of gas next to it. That'd probably be the best point of entry if you wanna do this loud, you figure. Of course, there's more than one way to breach a guarded town. What do you do? Just to be fully clear here, the outer guards in general are the most vulnerable, with the girl by the generator being the most vulnerable of those. Burns There's no way of knowing which way your assailant is facing, so you figure it's best to just be brave and take a risk. Circle around to the left and--gotcha. The man spins and fires, but he aims wide and the bullet plinks harmlessly against a rock dozens of feet away. You bring the butt of your rifle down on his skull, knocking him out cold. Now just to find the third and-- There's a sharp pain on your leg as a boot stomps down hard on the back of your knee. You fall to the ground and hear the distinctive click of a pistol hammer being pulled back to the ready position. A woman speaks up. Her voice seems oddly familiar, but you can't quite place it. "Now listen here. I don't know who you are or where you got that sorta tech, but you're gonna give it to me or I'm gonna spread your brains across the rocks here. Capisce?" What do you do? Triage Here-Not-There begins banging on the door. "Hell fuckin' no, doc! If she's back up you're gonna let me fuckin' see her or I'll... or I'll wax one of your fuckin' kids out here while the other watches, yeah? Swear I will!" Tiny starts yelling back, her speech a little slurred from the drugs you used to put her under. "Here... don't... don't do it you idiot. Doc's gonna open the door once this mess gets cleaned up, kay? Just, gently caress, just be patient for once!" It doesn't work. Here-Not-There keeps screaming a string of profanities and banging on the door, shaking the whole vehicle and making it extremely tough to clean up the rest of the viscera and residue. Still you think you've probably got most of it up, and it might be safe enough to open the door. Of course, you can't be sure without making Here-Not-There even angrier. What do you do? You can totally get a real, fully-integrated robotic prosthetic for Tiny's arm, but: -It's going to take months of work -You're going to need someone savvy to help you with it -You're going to have to add a full pre-Fall robotic surgery unit to your workspace -It's going to take dozens of tries Typhon Cherry-On-Top can barely stutter out even a complete sentence she's so terrified. "I-I-I-I've b-b-b-been training to b-b-b-b-be a driver my whole l-l-l-life. This w-w-w-was supposed to b-b-b-be my first r-r-r-run and oh god they'll n-n-n-never let me back in after this oh f-f-f-gently caress. Just f-f-f-fuckin' kill me n-n-n-now, please." She's shaking and hyperventilating, and you can tell it's not some sort of act. Without the rest of her convoy she's totally helpless, and for a brief moment you consider if Dameame's idea wasn't terrible. Speaking of Dameame, you hear their voice call from the back of the truck. "Hey, uh, boss? We got a situation back here." You get up, leaving the girl in Cadencecrest's more-than-capable hands. Around back, Dameame's got the door to the truck propped open and a wretched smell wafts back towards you. Most of what Cherry-On-Top said turns out to be true: there's some gas, some canned and salted food, and a little medicine, but in addition to those there's probably a dozen or so burlap sacks full of something foul enough to stink all the way through the bags. There's no markings on the outside of the bags to give any hint of where they came from, or what they contain. Dameame pauses, waiting for you to take charge. What do you do? quiggy fucked around with this message at 19:23 on Sep 4, 2018 |
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Sep 4, 2018 19:14
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Cool+3 Hard+1 Hot=0 Sharp+1 Weird-nil | 3:00 | 2-armor | 3-barter | x x x o > Goddamnit. I got sloppy. I always get sloppy when it feels like a sure-thing. Crashing the bike 'cause I thought it'd take the riverbed easy. Getting snuck up on because I got someone shaking in their boots. Every loving time. Now I'm getting robbed, goodbye recon bike, goodbye SCAR, goodbye lifesaving body armor. Unless... No, it can't be. Although... Wouldn't hurt to try. "That any way to talk to a squaddie, Jackson?"
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Sep 4, 2018 19:23
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Cool=0 Hard-1 Hot-1 Sharp+2 Weird+3 | 0:00 | 1-armor | 4-barter | x x x o > | 1-advance Something about this place reminds her of home - the smell of burning gas, the lights, the high ceilings. Her hands start to shake, just a little bit. Breath Liliana, breath. Cenek's not here. He can't hurt you. Smile. Smile. Don't look afraid. She walks towards Dirt Home, hands shoved in her pockets and trying not to look like she's on the edge of a panic attack. She tries to watch Dirt Home's movements, but her mind always goes back to the feeling of Cenek's fist, the mangy taste of his breath. --------------------- Reading The Situation: 2d6+2 6 - What should I be on the lookout for?
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Sep 4, 2018 19:46
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Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp=0 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 1-barter | x x o o > Dameame and I share a look. A confused, worried, disgusted look. Machete's out. I hang off the side of the truck, leaning back around to the cab. "CADENCECREST! GET HER BACK HERE, NOW! WHAT THE gently caress!"
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Sep 4, 2018 20:22
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Cool+1 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+2 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 1-armor | 1-barter | x x x x > Between you and me? This poo poo with a two-bit raider who found the mother of all fuckin' flesh-eatin' gribblies is starting to wear on my good nature. I mean, yeah, gently caress, sorry 'bout the arm. That's me. Fuckin' risking gettin' infected blood all up in your grill 'cause you can't keep it in your fuckin' pants for like five minutes? Holy hells, I'd be doin' the world a favor by givin' him a twelve-gauge facial. I look at Mox and Shiggy, and all low-like say, "Whatever happens, keep down and locked up. Y'ain't see me up in a few, hit the gas and just keep goin'." It's not the first time we've run this game. The first with a fuckin' bio-warzone in the back, maybe, but the kids are solid in a pinch. I bang on the door, "Aight, step back and I'll open up. Don't fuckin' touch the red, ain't safe." I wait 'til the shaking stops, pop the latch, and have a hand on my holster in case anything funny happens. I ain't thinkin' we're talkin' this out, but I got two pretty drat good arguments for why he should fuckin' walk when he inevitably blows his top. Shoot his own drat cronies, maybe, 'cause I ain't operatin' on any more of his poo poo without a heaping helping of jingle. Probably not even then, kid-threatenin' fucker. Tiny's a trooper, ain't gonna run her out 'less she goes all soggy-brained too, but gently caress this town. It's on the list. Can't even run a decent screen for when the angel's in.
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Sep 5, 2018 02:17
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Burns There's a brief moment of silence, and then the woman speaks. "How the gently caress do you know my name?" She lowers the gun and walks around to look you square in the eyes. Sure enough, it's Spc. Tammy Jackson, frozen with you and the rest of your unit back before the world went to poo poo. She seems... different, though. Her fatigues are weathered and tattered, her eyes are sunken and tired, her face is half-covered in scar tissue. She takes a moment to try to read you, and then notices your own name patch. She mouths the words "Spc. Burns" and then, faster than you can react to, her gun is drawn again and pointed directly between your eyes. "What the gently caress did you do to my squadmate you no-good Waster poo poo? ANSWER ME!" What do you do? Liliana One of the guards with the semi-auto rifles closes the heavy metal door behind you as you follow Dirt Home into the side room. Just as you're trying to get your bearings, Dirt Home draws her knife and points it directly at you. "Now listen here you little poo poo. You see those people out there? I don't know what gods you fuckin' follow but for me, the only poo poo that matters is that Providence gave me them and made me protect them, and I will not let little fuckers like you ruin this. You think I honestly believed that poo poo about Big Rod sendin' you here? I could hear your Sparker accent a mile away, I'm not fuckin' dumb, I know why you're really here. Now I'm gonna give you precisely one chance to explain yourself or to prove that you're not who I think you are, or I'm gonna cut the guts right out of your pretty little belly and let you bleed out here on my floor, do you understand me?" What do you do? In case it needs to be said: you should be on the lookout for that knife. And the guards outside. And really just about everything if you don't defuse this. Typhon Candencecrest comes back over quick as she can, escorting Cherry-On-Top at gunpoint with her. She drops her gun--Cherry-On-Top doesn't seem particularly dangerous anyway--and climbs up into the back of the truck. "The gently caress, Typh? Y'all loot this already? Why's it so empty and gently caress me what's that smell?" Immediately Cherry-On-Top is backing away, her hands up, her voice still shaking. "I s-s-s-swear I have no idea, I'm j-j-j-just a driver oh god I'm gonna d-d-d-die aren't I?" She collapses to the ground crying and shaking, and just muttering "ho god oh god oh god" under the breath. Cadencecrest looks at you. "Boss, I ain't got a clue what's in those things. We can open 'em up if you want but I got a real bad feeling about this one." What do you do? Triage The doors pop open and immediately Here-Not-There takes a few quick steps towards the back, then backs off when they see the blood. "Holy poo poo, you a doc or a butcher? The gently caress you do to my girl?" Tiny tries to sit up and look at them, but the drugs haven't worn off just yet and she can only get up about halfway, then falls back down. "Gimme a few minutes, Here," she slurs, but Here-Not-There isn't exactly the patient type. They come a little closer to the door and stick their head all the way in. "Hey doc, what the gently caress you do to my girl!" they scream, spinning back around and drawing the gun again. "Her fuckin' arm's off! gently caress the kids, you better explain this poo poo or it'll be your head I blow the gently caress off! I told you to heal her, not butcher her!" What do you do?
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Sep 5, 2018 16:26
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Cool=0 Hard-1 Hot-1 Sharp+2 Weird+3 | 0:00 | 1-armor | 4-barter | x x x x > | 1-advance A knife? A loving knife? Something to focus on, a real threat, not her imagination whispering to her. After the things she's endured it's almost a relief. She laughs. And then she code-switches, back to Spark. "For 'smart' woman you are very stupid. So very stupid." She walks towards the knife, her hands still open and above her head. "Who the gently caress do you think stole that car from, gently caress-breath? IT WAS THE MAYORS RIDE! Why the gently caress do you think I'm out here wandering the Wasteland on my own when I am a loving KORINKOVA?!" It's fast and furious, and her voice takes on a musical tone - almost poetic compared to her awkward, broken Waster. "Go ahead, Stab me. You cannot hurt me in a way that matters. See what the god-machines think about your killing one of their blessed children. You'll never get this machine running without me, and every drat machine from here to Hell City and back will spit on you. You poo poo-brained gashead." Nothing ever clears Liliana's mind like anger. It makes her realize she had an ally here, someone just as loyal to the God-Machines as her. Their home. She tears down the psychic barrier in her mind in a craze, and reaches into the depths of the machine - hoping to start any process she can. This thing had to have intruder defenses, or other functional systems she could root into and subvert. "Because you never owned this machine." ------------- OOC: Liliana is opening her mind to reach into the Old Machine and find something she can use to turn the tables. Opening her mind to the Old Machine.: 2d6+3 7 The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 20:16 on Sep 5, 2018 |
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Sep 5, 2018 16:55
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Cool+3 Hard+1 Hot=0 Sharp+1 Weird-nil | 3:00 | 2-armor | 3-barter | x x x o > "Jesus Christ Tammy, Specialist Shannon Burns, service number 267-53-9906. We serve under Sergeant Haskins, who serves under Captain Granell. The other members of our squad are Nakayama, Keegan, Pakulski, Carr and Okafor. How loving long have you been out here that you don't recognize me?"
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Sep 5, 2018 17:03
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Cool+3 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 2-armor | x x o o o > Was thinking, take it slow. Pick them off. Build up to it. But someone leaves an opening, you take it. Getting close isn't the hard part. Not the point - close isn't inside anything but firing arcs. If the girl was paying attention, only thing this plan would be good for is dying. She isn't, so I line up lupara on the generator. Pull the triggers. Noise, fire, chaos. All my old friends. Snap open lupara and shove in another pair of shells, make sure the sword is handy, get myself up on the platform. Anyone up there still standing - won't be for long. Lupara Lupara (4-harm close reload messy antique) and Sword (3-harm hand) Seize by Force (+Hard): 2d6+0 12 • You suffer little harm (-1harm). • You take definite and undeniable control of it. • You impress, dismay, or frighten your enemy.
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Sep 5, 2018 17:09
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Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp=0 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 1-barter | x x x o > "This is hosed," I conclude, and I suspect everyone agrees with me. Hate to call off a loot mission, but it's not like we went out of our way for this. "gently caress. Abandon this poo poo." I nod to Dameame and Cadencecrest; the former shoots Cherry-on-top like they wanted to ten minutes ago, the latter slams the truck door shut. We jump back down to the hogs. "Let this fuckin' rig rot here for whoever finds it next, what the fuckin' gently caress." A couple shots into the air rallies the Crags and we're getting ready to roll. There's some confusion but I'll explain it later, Dameame and Cadencecrest at least know I'm not just being a weird dick about this convoy. I'm itching to get out of here. It's not right. Read a Sitch: 2d6+0 4 What should I be on the lookout for?
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Sep 5, 2018 17:59
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Added a small POI on the map, Abandoned Sparker Truck. This is where Typhon and the Crags currently are. Burns Spc. Jackson blinks. "That's, uh... that's right." She pulls the gun back and holsters it on her hip. "Burns? I... gently caress, I don't remember you at all. gently caress gently caress gently caress. How long have I been out here?" Jackson turns from you and starts kicking the dirt aimlessly. "All I remember is blood and gas. Years of it, Burns. When I thawed out, I couldn't free the rest of you. I was on my own. The world's gone to poo poo and I had no one, no one at all. I've, gently caress, I've done things, Burns. Dishonored the unit, dishonored myself. One of these days I gotta figure out how to get back there and save everyone else, but I can't even save myself. I owe debts, folks want my head... I'm just not cut out for this life. It's good to see you again Burns, truly, even if I don't remember you at all." She sighs. "Sorry for tryin' to kill you back there. Lost my gun a year ago, would love to get my hands on somethin' else that good. Easy to want to kill for poo poo out here." "And hey, this is a bit of a weird question, but... can I tag along with you, at least for a bit? Got no crew, 'specially now that these idiots here are dead, and wouldn't mind trying to catch up and remember some of the good times before I finally bite it for good." What do you do? Typhon Cherry-On-Top's body slumps to the ground, a gory hole where her eye used to be. Dameame spits on her corpse, then holsters their gun. "Good riddance, one less Sparker in the world." From the back of your bike you take a moment to take in the surroundings and get your bearings. You'd been traveling north on the Demon Road from Mowai when the Sparkers hit you. Cherry-On-Top claimed they'd been coming south from 'Xon, so they would've passed through Afphron on the way down. Nobody asks you the obvious question: where to next, chief? "Hey, uh, Typh?" Cadencecrests asks, pointing behind you, back towards the truck. "That supposed to be doing that?" You turn around and look. Some of the duffel bags of that foul-smelling whatever have ruptured open, spilling a green goo over the back of the truck, flowing towards the rear doors directly towards your crew. It's not fast, but it's not slow either, and that smell that before had been merely disgusting is now overwhelming. What do you do? Liliana Dirt Home's eyes widen with fear, but she continues to brandish the knife. "Alright I've heard everything I need to hear. gently caress you." She lunges at you, but stops immediately when it starts to happen. The machine begins to stir, and the whole room shakes and groans. Sparks begin to shoot out from the ceiling tiles, and in the distance you hear the sounds of long-dead engines struggling to kickstart themselves. Dirt Home mouths "what the gently caress" and opens the door, revealing the vehicle bay slowly returning to life, its great dead fluorescent lights overhead slowly clicking on. The machine is not restored, not by a long shot, but it recognizes you in some way, Liliana. In your head you hear its voice, booming and metallic, but the words it says are neither Sparker nor Waster, and you cannot comprehend their meaning. Then, outside, you hear an explosion, and immediately your connection to the machine severs and the great wailing of gears and pistons stops. The lights in the vehicle bay shut off, the sparks stop shooting out from the ceiling, and the creaking and grinding noise stops instantly. A voice echoes from the back of the bay, a guard of some sort. "We're under attack!" Dirt Home looks at you, the looks back towards the bay. "I don't know who the gently caress you are, but we're gonna need to sort this out later. Don't do that again, ok? Promise I won't kill you." And then she's off towards the back of the vehicle, her knife dropped to the ground, a gun now in her hand tossed to her by one of her men. What do you do? Torch Lupara shakes in your hand as the shot rings out, and then with a loud bang the generator explodes. The poor girl standing next to it is blown off the platform by the sheer force of the explosion and lands hard on her head and stops moving. One less threat to worry about. You move fast, the return to violence sending adrenaline coursing through your veins. This is the poo poo you live for, after all. A guard takes a shot at you but misses, and lupara sings again, filling him full of buckshot. You clamber up onto the platform--away from the now-destroyed side where the generator had once been, naturally--and look inside the massive vehicle as best you can considering the chaos you've caused. A massive vehicle bay, that car you had seen parked inside it, and a practical militia quickly arming itself to meet this unknown threat. One woman in particular you watch leave a room in the back, and catch an AK tossed to her by another. Her head is half-shaved, and her skin black and ornamented. She points the gun directly towards you, maintaining a distance large enough to keep lupara ineffective. "Stop!" she yells. "I will give the kill order if you don't stop! Let us talk!" Your position is fortified, you could easily stay back and force them to come for you. Or you could stop and trust the woman, or you could rush forward. There's always some way to get what you want in a fight. What do you do?
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Sep 6, 2018 16:42
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Cool+3 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 2-armor | x x o o o > Too far to hit with lupara. Need them to come to me. I break it open again, shove in a fresh shell, snap it closed. Could try to get a rifle off one of the guards. Better to stay put for now, if they're going to waste time and breath. "Talk fast," I call out, keeping in cover. If Read a Person works with that miss for dangerous & sexy, I'm holding 3, intending to spend 1 immediately on: • What does your character intend to do? Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at 17:04 on Sep 6, 2018 |
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Sep 6, 2018 17:00
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Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp=0 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 1-barter | x x x o > "poo poo NO THAT AIN'T FUCKIN' NORMAL," I bellow. "WHEEL OUT!" And we burn rubber down the road. gently caress that. We go until we're out of gunshot of that..wait, no. gently caress it we're going to Afphron, I guess. Hopefully we can get a lead on an actual loving convoy, not some toxic waste trap. At least it happened to the Sparkers. Yeah, that part's good, at least.
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Sep 6, 2018 17:11
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Cool=0 Hard-1 Hot-1 Sharp+2 Weird+3 | 0:00 | 1-armor | 4-barter | o o o o > | 2-advance Liliana's anger turns to something cold, sharp. She's reached one inescapable conclusion. Dirt Home is stupid as gently caress. Stupider than Cenek. She thought Liliana was trying to hide her Spark-hood at all when she was still in her old Spark engineer's uniform and speaking Waster with the most intensely thick accent. To add insult to injury, she missed the real threat in her paranoia. But what was worst is she either had very little power, or none at all. A charlatan in the eyes of the God-Machines. How else did she miss Liliana's sparking, hissing psychic scars from them? How else hadn't she reached into the machine and done this very thing before herself? She picks up the knife. Listens to the yelling outside and watches this new woman. She wagers this one is the one Dirt Home was supposed to be on the lookout for. Liliana also figures this woman had a few more IQ points than this dumbfuck, and she hadn't threatened her with a knife. So Liliana waits, watches. Her moment is coming, she knows it. Either to turn the tables or to make a break for it. She's not entirely sure yet. All she knows is she really hates Dirt Home now. ---------------------- OOC: Reading The Situation: 2d6+2 9 and nabbing my second advance of the session. • Where’s my best escape route?
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Sep 6, 2018 19:00
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Cool+3 Hard+1 Hot=0 Sharp+1 Weird-nil | 3:00 | 2-armor | 3-barter | x x x o > Years? Did she say years? I need to find a time machine so I can slap the engineers who put the stasis facility together. But poo poo, it's not like I can say no to this. Not even out of some squad loyalty poo poo, this is just a sorry sight. Even if she did lead a fuckin' hit and run squad on me. I do got just one question though... "Of course, Tammy. We're a unit. But, uh, if you don't mind me askin', what happened to the humvee?"
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Sep 6, 2018 21:43
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Cool+1 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+2 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 1-armor | 1-barter | x x x x > I flip my sawed-up into their face and say, "gently caress that. I've been too goddamn patient with your poo poo. I did what I could for your girl, ain't my fault you found whatever the gently caress that was, and you have the fuckin' gall to threaten me and mine over a fuckin' charity job?" I meet their eyes. "Walk. You can have your girl back if you want, or I can fix her up with a new arm and bring her back. Either way? We're fuckin' done. Don't think for a moment you're gettin' anything else fixed up after this poo poo show." Go Aggro: 2d6 6
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Sep 7, 2018 01:15
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Typhon You and the Crags peel out of there as fast as loving possible, leaving behind everything--the truck, the supplies in it, Cherry-On-Top's body, that weird green goo. gently caress it, right? You pull into Afphron's Crossing a few hours later as the sun is going down. It's a small place, but its influence is bigger than its size might suggest. When the world fell, it took much of its soil with it, and the kind of plants you might actually want to eat basically don't grow anywhere out there except for right here. There's maybe a hundred souls that tend to the farms of Afphron, but they produce more food than just about anywhere else, trading that for all the bullets and gas they could possibly need. The whole town stinks, but it's a good stink, the stink of manure and animals, not of blood and rust. There's only one place the Afphroni keep open to the public, an old train station they've converted into half a tavern and half a city hall. No train has run through here in decades, and the tracks are broken and overgrown. The Afphroni run a tight ship here, and as you and the Crags approach the door, two armed men look you down. "You and your crew here are gonna have to leave your weapons with us. They'll be safe, ain't never had an issue with that before. Afphron is a place for all folks to cross freely, and we don't wanna have to scrub anyone's brains off the wall, ya dig?" What do you do? Burns Tammy laughs. "You must've thawed out recently, yeah? Not used to life out here yet." "The humvee, it's, well, dead. Got blown up by some fuckers years ago, took a good friend of mine with it. Was out near 'Xon, bunch of random bandits far as I can tell. Cut the gas line, tossed a molotov, and BOOM! No more humvee. Remembered the stasis unit still had some of our old bikes and trekked my rear end back there and grabbed one. See you did likewise. Miss the hummer, drat thing had protection you don't get on a bike, but it is what it is I guess." "Anyway, sorry for chasin' you out of Iron Gate. Don't have a good gun no more, saw yours, didn't put two and two together that you'd be one of my unit. Gate's probably not safe to go back to at least for right now, so what's the plan, cut across the fields and hit up Mowai? I'm sure you ain't headed down to Glass House, yeah? Sounds like a fool's errand to me. Or suicide." What do you do? Torch The woman continues to stand out in the open, bravely defying the open shot you'd have with any gun longer-range than lupara. "My name is Dirt Home," she shouts towards you. The rest of the settlement has stopped, waiting for orders from her before moving to take you out. "I'm not a bandit, I'm not evil, I'm trying to do the best for me and mine here. You've been sent for reclamation, right? From that convoy we overturned? Put your gun away and come with me, and see the 'cargo' we 'stole'. This machine here"--her voice shifts towards something almost reverent--"it is a home for us. And we must keep it safe. So either put your guns away and step out, or meet your end. Your choice, merc!" What do you do? Taking your Read a Person result like we discussed in Discord. Just for clarity: Dirt Home wishes you'd put the gun away and come inside and talk, and listen to reason. Liliana Standing in the shadows, you keep a close eye on the situation and try to hear Dirt Home, but for the most part her words escape into the open air and do not echo back into great machine. Something about "cargo" and "reclamation", and she's clearly trying to make peace with the attacker instead of shooting them dead. God only knows why, that attacker sure seems to be here just for blood. You do a scan of the room to take in your situation. All eyes and guns are trained on the main vehicle bay door, making sure the assailant would be pumped full of lead if she tried anything funny. Nobody, not even the two guards who had held you inside the interrogation room, seems to have noticed your escape or cares that much about you, giving you leeway to do just about whatever you wanted. Roz is still sitting in the middle of the floor, and while it'd be risky, you doubt anyone would break this tense situation by firing at you if you made a break for it. Of course, even getting to Roz, then you'd have to get out, and probably the only way to do that is by driving straight into Dirt Home and opening yourself up to a hail of gunfire. Not impossible, but definitely not safe. There's other routes too, ones on foot, but those would leave Roz behind. For the moment everything hangs on Dirt Home and the attacker, giving you an opening to do whatever it is you think best. What do you do? Triage Adrenaline pounds through your veins as you level your sawed-off directly in front of Here-Not-There's face and deliver your ultimatum. They'd be an idiot to turn you down in this situation. They are. Here-Not-There looks at you and then, fast as they can manage, throws a punch. You pull the trigger. A sawed-off shotgun is loud and dangerous. That's kind of the point. There's a piercing noise and a bright flash, stunning you for a second and then Pain. The gun misfires, exploding in your hand. As near as you can tell your hand is still there, mostly, but all you see is blood and all you smell is blood and all you feel is blood. You're on the ground too, knocked backwards by the force of the explosion. Here-Not-There is too, but is already scrambling to their feet, before you can really do anything about it. In the background you see Shigusa scream and run and hide, while Mox grabs an empty O2 canister and starts rushing towards Here-Not-There. Your hand is screaming in pain, but there's not much you can do, you need to deal with Here-Not-There now or someone other than them is going to die. What do you do? Take 2-harm ap from the misfire. For the rest of this scene you'll take -1 on any rolls involving the use of your dominant hand, but that'll fix up after the scene ends and you can bandage it. Your shotgun is pretty busted, but it can probably be fixed if you find someone with the know-how. quiggy fucked around with this message at 18:58 on Sep 10, 2018 |
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Sep 10, 2018 18:52
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Cool+3 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 2-armor | x x o o o > "Show me the cargo. Then we can deal." Can't hurt asking. Either they haul it out and save me trouble finding it, or gets them mad enough to come up here where I can kill them. Other thing - didn't think the Madame was fool enough to send me after something that'd turn me on her. Might have thought wrong. Might as well see now. Still holding my position, still holding 2 from Read a Person.
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Sep 10, 2018 19:09
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Cool=0 Hard-1 Hot-1 Sharp+2 Weird+3 | 0:00 | 1-armor | 4-barter | o o o o > | 2-advance Liliana's poor mood deepens. As far as she can tell she's just gone from lovely situation to lovely situation today. She whispers to Roz with her mind, letting her know it'll be alright. And oh joy this dumbfuck charlatan is talking about politics. Liliana's very favorite subject. If she had an ounce of power she'd use the giant psychic antenna she's standing inside to overload this woman's brain. Liliana could do it, but she needs rest. She's already opened her mind an unhealthy number of times today. One maelstrom induced aneurysm was enough to teach her to take it slow.
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Sep 10, 2018 20:21
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Cool+1 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+2 Weird-1 | 6:00 | 1-armor | 1-barter | x x x x > That? That fuckin' hurt like you wouldn't believe. I'd like to say that was the most blood I've ever seen, but gently caress. I just sawed an arm off. Weren't my arm, for fairness, but gently caress I'm gonna be pissed if I get the poo poo too. loving Here-not-There. It's all I can do to keep moving, but luckily that gently caress can't see the pain through the mask. I pick up the wreck of my shotty, shoddy piece of poo poo, and fuckin' lay into him with the smoking, shattered barrel. I hope they loving die and get tetanus, the absolute fucker. The kids are freaking out, in their own ways, and I know they're probably expecting me to keep it together. Instead, I'm loving roaring at Here-not-There, all pain and anger and dogged loving determination, and I finally bowl them out the back and latch the door. There's a lot of blood on the both of us by the end, most of it probably mine, and I suppose it's too much to hope the gently caress breaks their neck from the fall. Humans are surprisingly easy to break, come to it, so they might. It's only after that I can really take stock of what they did to me along the way. Seize By Force: 2d6-1 5 Taking definite and undeniable control of First Response, exchanging harm.
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Sep 11, 2018 02:49
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Cool+3 Hard+1 Hot=0 Sharp+1 Weird-nil | 3:00 | 2-armor | 3-barter | x x x o > "Glass House that bad?" I'm hefting the Recon back onto its wheels, checking and praying the damage isn't too bad. "That Rowdy idiot back at Iron Gate said someone from Glass House is who set up his sound system. I figured if there's tech people there, it'd be a good place to check, find someone who can fix the stasis lock. But, if you think Glass House is a no-go zone, Mowai sounds good."
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Sep 11, 2018 02:54
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Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp=0 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 1-barter | x x x o > "Fuckin," is all I've to say at first. The weapons play. But, it's Afphron. It's also been a long weird hosed-up day. "Show me the fuckin' locker," and I catch Boultry's eye, he doesn't look happy. "AND IF I'm satisfied," I continue, "here's how we play it. We both lock the stash, your lock and my lock, and all of us put in one gun each, show of good faith. But we're not going unarmed. Fuckin' fool's errand. You get me?" Engines rev.
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Sep 11, 2018 14:55
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Triage You slam the shotgun butt as hard as you can manage into Here-Not-There's face and feel a sickening crunch as you shatter their jawbone. They try to scream but nothing comes out, and instead pull a knife from their boot and drive it as deep as they can into your shoulder. Everything is blood and fury, but you manage to get into First Response and turn the key and-- There's a loud clang outside the car. Turning and looking through the window, you see Mox standing above Here-Not-There, O2 canister on the ground and covered in blood, Here-Not-There face-down in the dirt and mud not moving or breathing. As far as you can tell, they're dead, but it might be best to be sure. Mox falls to the ground and starts crying, while Shigusa remains nowhere to be seen. Tiny, for her part, is still knocked out in the back of First Response. What do you do? Take an additional 2-harm from the knife, minus 1 thanks to your armor. Burns "I'll be honest, I ain't never been there myself. Heard stories though, of slavers and fightin' pits and all kinds of nasty stuff I don't want to get involved with. Even more nasty than everything else out here. Mowai sounds a lot nicer to me." There's no road to Mowai from Iron Gate, at least, not one that wasn't totally torn up when the world fell. Instead you've got two routes: a longer one that takes the old Firebat Bus Line out to Afphron, then swings south on the Demon Road towards Mowai, or a drive across open unpaved land. It's faster, definitely, but you'd be trading the risk of running into someone else with the risk of finding who knows what out in the untamed land between the roads. What do you do? If you decide to take the direct route off-road, give me a Deal With Bad Terrain roll. If not, you should be good to go--provided you don't meet any unsavories out on the open road. Typhon The guard laughs right in your face. "You new to Afphron, kid?" He's definitely not older than you, probably in his mid-20s, and while he's definitely not someone you wanna bare-knuckle brawl, his face doesn't have the tell-tale scars of a life lived on the road. "This here's the breadbasket of the roads, and we the Afphroni run a tight ship to make sure everyone is welcome. Ain't good for us if two groups of Wasters decide to shoot each other's dicks off in our common hall, ya dig? This isn't a rule for you and your crew here, this is a rule for everyone. Everyone in there's unarmed right now, if you're going in you're gonna be too. Ya dig?" The other guard doesn't say anything, but you note as his hands subtly tighten their grip on the SMG he's carrying. If they're telling the truth about Afphron's policies, this poo poo has absolutely gone south before, and will again, whenever some outsider decides gently caress the rules. Looks like the guard talking to you is growing a little impatient though. "Your guns or you walk, kid. Your call." What do you do? Liliana and Torch Dirt Home sighs. "The cargo? You're lookin' at it." She motions around at some of the people in view--some of them armed and ready to act in defense, but mostly the unarmed people deeper in the vehicle bay, huddled together for safety. "Your employer probably just told you to gently caress poo poo up, right? You didn't think that was weird, just kill indiscriminately? That 'cargo', it was people, you imbecile! You're working for a slaver!" She points up at a young man on a platform overlooking the bay, holding a hand-me-down assault rifle he's training, poorly, on Torch. "Justice, tell her a little bit about yourself." The boy, clearly nervous, clears his throat. "They call me Justice of Dirt, at least they do now. Used to call me 'boy'. My parents were killed before I can remember, and those slaver fucks stuck a chip in me to track me. Dirt Home here rescued us and ripped the chip out, tearing up the skin there so I can never have one again. It hurt, but I'm free now. Ain't no one gonna--" His sentence is cut short with the sound of a single sniper shot, making contact with his head and blowing it into pieces. His body tumbles unceremoniously from the platform, and that used assault rifle clatters to the ground. The shot came from outside, and looking back, you see a whole host of battle-cars and mercs arming themselves and getting ready to storm the place. The reclamation crew has come. What do each of you do?
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Sep 11, 2018 17:24
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Cool+3 Hard+1 Hot=0 Sharp+1 Weird-nil | 3:00 | 2-armor | 3-barter | x x x o > "Alright, the bike is still in good enough condition to roll. I say we take the direct route. I've had enough of bandits chasing me down and trying to gun me off the road today, no offense." After all, what's the worse that can be lurking out in the unpatrolled wilderness? I'm sure the park rangers keep everything in line out here. They'd lose their jobs otherwise. Deal With Bad Terrain: 2d6+4 9 Choose 1: • You slow down and pick your way forward.
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Sep 11, 2018 17:51
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Cool=0 Hard-1 Hot-1 Sharp+2 Weird+3 | 0:00 | 1-armor | 4-barter | x o o o > | 2-advance Slavers. Probably Spark Slavers. If they got hold of her and Roz execution would be the best possible fate. If she was unlucky she might be remanded to family custody. And therefore to Cenek. Liliana dashes for Roz, through gunfire and screaming. She opens the door. Dives in the driver's seat. Heart pounding. Hands shaking. Key in the ignition. The engine turns over, roars. Roz starts the music herself. Do or die time. ------------------------------------- OOC: Rolling to GTFO Acting Under Fire - Using Weird Due To Spooky Intense: 2d6+4 11 The Unlife Aquatic fucked around with this message at 18:56 on Sep 11, 2018 |
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Sep 11, 2018 17:58
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Cool+3 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+1 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 2-armor | x x x o o > "Sent me to die is what she did," I snarl. Turn to face what's coming now, cursing myself for a fool. "Some of you better know how to shoot. Or you're in that grave with me." Complete loving idiot, me. Still can't smell a loving trap. Twisty logic - she knew, I knew, she knew, bullshit. Don't work for slavers so figured a slaver wouldn't hire me. Only question is why waste the time. Have to ask her. After I kill all these fuckers. Lupara (4-harm close reload messy antique) and Sword (3-harm hand) Keep Hold of Something You Have (+Hard): 2d6+0 7 • You suffer little harm (-1harm). • You keep definite and undeniable control of it.
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Sep 11, 2018 18:07
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Cool+1 Hard+2 Hot+1 Sharp=0 Weird-1 | 0:00 | 1-barter | x x x o > A deep sigh escapes me. "Look, slugger, we've had a long, stupid, and tiring day. And I'm not looking to add more bullshit to it. So we're making camp." I raise my arm up and give the hand signal, and Boultry cruises off to disperse the message. "Right here. Outside your enclave. We'll be staying armed, thank you very loving much." I roll back, giving about 15 yards of space, and set the kickstand. "Send someone with some actual authority if there's an issue. You've made enough mistakes today, slugger."
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Sep 11, 2018 19:26
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Cool+1 Hard=0 Hot+1 Sharp+2 Weird-1 | 9:00 | 1-armor | 1-barter | o o o o > | 1-advance Alright, gently caress, stab wounds. This day gets better and better. poo poo, okay, remember the book. I ain't gonna bleed out from something like this, ain't feelin' like an artery got nicked, so I should be fine as long as we get clear and I have a chance to walk the kids through some fuckin' surgery. Nothin' they haven't helped with, as it is, and well... wait, gently caress. Where the gently caress did Shiggy run off to? I slip out of the driver's seat stagger back towards Mox. Poor kid's gonna have nightmares. Fuckin' hope Mox smashed that overripe melon, but I ain't about to let this gently caress get off if he hasn't. Still... poo poo. Gotta get eyes on the scene. Can't miss anything else, not like this, not today. Read a Sitch: 2d6+2 8 What should I be on the lookout for?
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Sep 12, 2018 03:19
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| # ? Apr 19, 2024 21:09 |
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Burns You and Spc. Jackson leave the open road and take your bikes east, towards Mowai Circle. Bless those pre-Fall engineers, the bikes can actually handle off-roading pretty decently when you're not being actively pursued by other vehicles. The closer you get to Mowai, though, the more you need to slow down. It seems to have rained here recently, and the dirt turns to mud and every hundred feet becomes more of a struggle to get through than the hundred feet prior. Of course, rain storms don't really make sense any more, they come and go without rhyme or reason, sometimes drenching one town and not even sprinkling another an hour away. Like everything else, seems like the weather itself broke when the world fell. As the sun sets, Tammy recommends that the two of you make camp in a nearby copse of trees at the top of a hill, figuring there's no way you'll reach Mowai by nightfall. The copes isn't far from here, maybe just another ten minutes or so. In the distance, you can hear the echoes of the things that live between the roads, beginning their evening hunts. Far to the north, you even think you can make out plume of smoke, probably some convoy hit by bandits earlier in the day. You both know the world well enough to know that camping isn't safe, but then neither is continuing on. What do you do? Typhon The guard rolls his eyes but makes no moves to stop you, and so you and the Crags do exactly what you said: you set up camp directly outside the train station. The guard wanders off, presumably to tell his superiors, but he's back alone after just ten or fifteen minutes. A few hours pass before anything else happens. In the middle of the afternoon, a fat older man in overalls and a straw hat waddles his way over to you. He offers his hand to shake. "The name's Samuel Salt. My boy here,"--he motions his thumb in the direction of the guard--"name of Joshua Loam, tells me you decided to boycott our rules and set up shop here outside. Now you're not the first to put up a stink, so we figured we'd just try to wait ya out, but usually random roadrats are a bit too impatient to stay this long. So here's the deal. "I don't think you're bad people. Matter of fact, though I'm sure you've done some poo poo, think you might be a force for good out there. Don't matter though. Not everyone who crosses through Afphron has good intentions, and it's part of the creed of the Afphroni to protect folks who pass through here, regardless of who you are. Joshua is here to take your guns and protect the folks inside the station, don't matter who you are. Now you got two choices, you can either submit to our rules and hand over your weapons, or you can mosey on out of here to somewhere else. Stayin' here won't be an option when we're done talkin', ok? We got other ways of keepin' the peace, you understand?" What do you do? Triage You find Mox kneeling on the ground, shaking and crying his eyes out, the bloodied O2 canister and Here-Not-There's motionless body right next to him. Mox looks up at you and tries to say something, but no words come out. He's seen some poo poo--everyone has out here, especially folks who heal the wounded--but you're sure he's never killed someone before. Shigusa's still nowhere to be seen, but on the plus side, you don't see her when scanning the horizon. That means either she's hiding somewhere nearby, like in one of the bigger containers in First Response, or she ran into Mowai Circle proper. All sorts of unsavory folk there, to be sure, but it's still safer for a kid than the open wastes, especially in the daylight. Mowai's not A-Town, the Mowai themselves try to run a tight ship and keep the more awful crimes like kidnapping under control. In the back of First Response, you hear Tiny stir a little. You know those drugs, she'll be back up and fully functional within a minute or so. Well, as fully functional as a recent amputee can be. You'll probably have to explain this poo poo to her, too. What a mess. What do you do? As of right now, there's nothing in particular to be on the lookout for outside of the three people you need to follow up with. And you haven't made sure Here-Not-There is really dead yet, although it sure seems that way. Liliana Get out. It's the only thought pulsing through your brain as you slam the pedal to the metal. Roz's tires squeal and burn rubber, and then you're off like a shot, right through the open vehicle bay door and directly towards the attacking army. For anyone else, this would be suicide, but you're Liliana Korinkova, chosen of the god-machines. You can still feel the old buried machine here calling to you, trying to bring you back, but it knows it is powerless to do so. What it is not powerless to do is to protect you, so that someday you might return. A small freak dust storm begins to whip around you and Roz, obscuring the road ahead but also obscuring the shots from those who would sooner put you down then let you escape. A few shots ding Roz's metal--you'll have to fix her up later--but neither of you sustain actual real injuries as you make your getaway. The further you get, the dust begins to settle, the effect of the old machine waning. But then, in the mirror, you see it: three pursuit vehicles, pulled off the main pack, in a V-formation trying to catch the car foolish enough to run. The two flankers are massive war machines, ancient military vehicles kitted with all manner of guns and chainsaws that would no doubt shred Roz into metal scraps if they got within range. And in the center, a car you know all too well. Cenek. What do you do? What does Cenek's car look like? Torch A hail of gunfire from both inside and outside the great old machine pins you down. It's only a matter of time until your cover is destroyed, and then you'll be dead. Nothing to do but pray for the end, you suppose. And then, something unexpected happens. Some idiot inside the old machine blasts out of the vehicle bay in a tricked-out sports car of some sort, directly towards the army. They veer to the left, and you could swear the dust itself swirls around them to shield them from harm. Before they're out of sight, you take the moment of confusion to reposition yourself to somewhere almost certainly impenetrable, behind the walls of the vehicle itself, up on the elevated platform, maybe ten feet to the left of where Justice of Dirt got shot. One bullet whizzes by and clips your shoulder, but your armor does its job. You're safe up here, for now. Below you, the fighting continues. The floor of the vehicle bay is slick with the blood of the fallen, and the ground outside beneath the attacking force is no different. But the tide of the battle is turning, and it is clear that soon, the people in here will be overwhelmed. Overwhelmed, unless you can sort out a plan to turn the fight back into their favor. What do you do? The bullet was a long-range handgun, 2-harm, so your armor cancels it out.
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Sep 12, 2018 19:34
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