[Big Maul] Can We Brake It? (C 1.4, H 1.3, J 1.5, P 1.3)

edited April 2014 in Big Maul
Jet Black,

It is SHOWTIME! With Hottopic off working on Muzak, or something, Ball Pit and Godiva were sent to help. Even still, in the short time you have, Boiyardi didn't get to the specific vision you shared, but it's close enough. No diva, with Esco out, no dominatrix, with Mari "gone", how did you whip the remaining group together?

We pick up with you slightly off stage. You're in between numbers, about halfway done. How is the show going?

What's the breakdown of your audience normally? Does most of the Maul show up? How much of them are from outside the Maul? This is a special show, right? That's the reason you've been such a hardass to get things just so.

Who took Esco's place? Why weren't they the lead before? What are you worried about from them?


  • edited April 2014
    I've just left the stage after setting up the final act. My evul henchmen are singing the intro movement of the climactic piece, their voices alternating between facts about the dangers of overpeoplation and the chorus of "Can We Fix It?" I glance at the machine. I'm sure Hot could have done a better job if she'd had the time, she has a more delicate sense than Boio ever will. But it does look better than the sketch Rache and Boio started out with, and from the audience's distance I figure it looks fine. When it goes boom we'll be setting off a smokebomb inside it that will leak out through all the vents in the casing. Nobody knows what it looked like in my head. But nobody ever does.

    I do a quick scan of the audience, at least the portion that I can see from the right wing. It's fucking PACKED. Might even be SRO. I can't help but smile. The breeze gives and the breeze takes away.

    Getting established in the maul was not easy at first. We had no regular schedule (never had one before), and we only attracted a random sampling of audience members. It was very hit-and-miss. When Cache and I started working on FUCKING FREEDOM it happened to be a full moon night, and we were talking about having a regular schedule, we just put two and two together: we should do a new show every full moon. That way people would just come to know it's a regular thing.

    It worked. But it has its downside, and that's the Breeze. See, if the full moon happens during a breezestorm, we're stuck with a very limited audience. On those months I write shows that are very specifically catered to the locals and their current events - it keeps the butts in the seats to hear their own names called out from the stage - but the jingle is minimal. On the other hand, if the full moon happens just AFTER a breezestorm - like tonight - we get everybody and his dog for miles around. They're so happy to be out of the breeze and have someplace to go, they'll pay well to see any flesh they haven't already memorized.

    Tonight we'll not only make rent and expenses, it looks like we'll have enough barter to invest in some new costumes and makeup. We're almost out of brown #12.

    Just sixteen more bars. Take a quick look in the fuckme mirror, make a big toothy grin. Rache did a good job on my skin. Glance down between my legs. I'm ready.
  • edited April 2014
    one, too, three, for, five, six, seven, ate,

    I am SO lucky I wasn't relying hard on Esco. To be honest her part was an afterthought to begin with, so she only had the one aria and a fuckscene, along with a little dialog that wasn't too hard to teach to Jules. I would love to say that Jules was the AMC's strongest actress, but alas, her performance is a little wooden whenever her mouth is used for speaking. On all other counts, however, she does a great job. You know, I didn't just give her the role because she stepped up on choreo today (although that was a big part of it); I also did it because Fall can get a little carried away with his female partners, and Julia has had much bigger things than him inside her. The only thing I'm a little worried about is her final leap over the machine as it brakes. We didn't have a chance to rehearse it with the real-size machine.

    Mari and Esco were on opposite sides, so the duel scene is still evenly matched. In fact it lines up with the eightcount even better now. But moving Jules meant Bob's gang was one person short, so I made a quick decision to include a comic relief character and stuck Boiardi in there. He already had the overalls, see. His dancing was godzone vomit, but the crowd seemed to enjoy it. Boiardi doesn't mind being a cocksman onstage; he's done it before, but for some reason he had a hard time getting it up. Maybe he got himself off earlier in the day, I didn't have time to warn him he should save up his juice. But I solved that problem by pairing him with Grave, who bent over backwards in a reverse bridge, his long thin hard-on pointing defiantly at the ceiling. Rache had oiled his hole body up just moments before, and the colored lights (run tonight by Jackbird, who's doing fine) glistened off his pale skin like sexy rainbows. It was a glorious moment. Once Boio got inside that tight ass, he grabbed Grave's cock and stroked it like it was his own.

    I already mentioned the basic idea of how Osama plans to destroy humankind with his evul machine, which emits sexfear waves that cause people to stop fucking. It works by combining the sex instinct with the fear instinct, which get all bundled together in something called fearomoans. This is real science shit. The machine beams these fearomoans into people's heads. The fearomoans get in your head and make you afraid to do things, they can even make you stop fucking, which is exactly what Osama makes them do. See, if people stop fucking, that leads to no more babies. And if there aren't any more babies, bang, you got the end of the human race. The only man who could fuck would be Osama himself, because he has these special earplugs that make the fearomoans sound like sweet music to him. He thinks overpeoplation is a big problem, destroying mutha nature and all, and he thinks his machine will "fix it".

    So that's Osama's evul plan. And it was starting to work too, with people breaking off in the middle of sex, not even bothering to cum because they were so afraid. I should point out that this act required immense control from my cocksmen, and I'm proud of how the boys pulled it off without shooting too early (except Boiardi, but I can't really blame him). Interspersed with that story (stage right) we also meet Bob and his hammer-swinging crew (stage left), who are partying after just killing a whole busload of scientists and eating their bones. But then the plot twists: Doctor Osama's subbie Looseyloo (that's Jules) gets all wet when she sees Bob and his gang having sex and eating their enemies and whatnot. That's when she sings her aria, which is called "The Man I Want". She's looking over to the other side of the stage through a prop windowframe, rubbing herself off while she watches them under colored smoke and lazer lights. But she can't cum. That number ends with me walking onstage behind her as Osama, drunk as hell, demanding her to get on her knees and suck me off. It's so fucking tragic, I love it. My skin is all covered with brown #12 and my hair is netted back to make my ears look bigger. I'm wearing two big fake earplugs and a gigantic prosthetic dangler all covered in veins and blotches. It actually squirts about six feet. Jackbird did a beautiful job on this hideous cock.

    Anyway. After Osama falls asleep, Looseyloo sneaks out of the compound to go see Bob, and he fucks her while flying from the ceiling (brilliant aerial maneuvers by Fall and Jules, honestly their best work to date), until she switches sides and spills the evul plan. Meanwhile the big orgy scene starts and Looseyloo gets all in it with Bob the B and his gang. Osama's crew is sent out to go find the partiers and capture them, and then Osama plans to subject them to the beams of the machine. It gets hairy as a sexy fight scene unfolds. Bob's gang is captured one by one! The Doctor's henchmen shout joyous news of their success, and drag Bob's gang over to my side of the stage, where they are locked in cages. A narrow white spot focuses on my hand as I laugh evully and turn on the machine. Then with perfect synchro as I exit stage right, Franc's freaky found-sound effects fill the room, layered over the singing voices and tapelooped rhythms. The audience is glued to their seats - literally. They sit there, sopping wet, rock hard, and they're not even able to stroke themselves off because their minds can't process what the fuck is going on. It's even better than I thought. I love it. Take a moment to enjoy it. But I also know I need to let these people off the hook soon, or they'll go berserk.
  • edited April 2014
    one, too, three, for,

    The climactic number - "Can We Brake It?" - is about to start. Fall and I prepare to enter the stage from opposite sides. He's about to free his crew from those cages, while I send my minions against them in battle. My gang will be defeated, of course, and the machine will be "destroyed". Then Fall will kick my ass in a disco boogie to the death. Doctor Osama will drop down dead, his big dangler rolling over his leg, spurting its last juice. After that, Franc kicks in with the title reprise and everybody fucks. I mean everybody. Ad-lib, audience participation, whatever gets you off.

    - § -
  • Alright, Jet Black. Here you are, the big number. You're in the wings, looking out at the crowd, who are loving it, buzzing with antici... pation. If you pull this off, this ending, the place is going to erupt, with sex, with adoration, with jingle.

    Jules has been giving it her all, really pushing her kicks higher, hitting every note and well, pushing her way through the plot as best she can. Fall is on point, and he's really nailing this (and several other dancers, of course).

    But now, this, this is it.

    When you try to wow the crowd with your metal circus performance, roll +Hot. On a hit, you earn one jingle for this performance (after paying off the crew). Also, choose options. On a 7-9, choose two. On a 10+, choose three.
    - The audience is overjoyed and their wallets leave a little lighter than they'd planned. Earn one extra jingle (can be chosen multiple times)
    - Your crew's success has you feeling exuberant and unstoppable; take +1 Forward
    - You've learned a little something about a PC in attendance, and they've seen the content of your heart, choose one and each of you get +1 HX
    - Choose (or name) one NPC and gain 1 hold over them as if you succeeded with the Skinner move Hypnotic (even if you don't have the move

    On a miss, the performance doesn't quite work the way you'd hoped. MC will detail.
  • Jet Black,

    You see Cache and Hottopic in the audience. Looks like Sweet, Big Mac and Playboy aren't making tonight's show.


    Where do you sit? Mari is here, sitting with her?


    What about you? Have you been to these shows before? Why or why not? Are you sitting with anyone?
  • Once I/we arrive, I'll look around for Ball Pit and Godiva. They've been here all day, helping out, but I assume they're in the audience enjoying the fruits of their labors. When I locate them, I'll scoot in between them. Godiva hates that - he's kinda possessive, but I suspect Ball Pit is kinda in to me.

    I came to the show with the big flag, and I stop by every now and then. It's not my thing ALL the time, but I like to represent on opening night. Besides, Franc rocks it out. And kinda rocks me out.
  • I slide in next to Mari, draping my bare legs over hers. Conveniently, we're right behind HT. I'm watching her as much as the show. Deep hood up, obscuring my face.

    To Mari, I whisper, <<Bring some lonely hearts to the projection floor after the show tonight.>>
  • edited April 2014
    five, six, seven, ate

    I notice Cache out there and a knot of tension - unnoticed until this moment - loosens in my shoulders. I really hope ze likes it. Take a deep breath...

    Here we go! I strut out onto the stage with my big Osama grin, swinging the massive artificial shlong from side to side. The straps holding it in place under my costume still seem taut enough, they only have to make it through one more number...

    I'm in the zone as I say my lines, damning Bob and his gang to godzone fucklessness forever, cackling and waving my arms madly about. Julia steps into my space and grabs me by the grotesque unit. I shove my hand between her legs and lift moistened fingers to my nose. I smell Bob. My smile turns to a huge evul rageface. Meanwhile Fall has been sneakily opening the cages with his loyal blue-overalled killas inside. The climactic Fight Scene Begins...
  • (Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 5, 2. Total: 9)
  • edited April 2014
    ...and ends without a single misstep, as Fall delivers the coup de grace just like we rehearsed and I take a backdive to a padded section of the stage just beside the machine. My right hand, hidden from the audience's view, signals Jackbird to activate the pyro gear and send the machine into "destruct mode".

    Metal arms whirl back over my head, one narrowly missing my nose, simulating the explosion of the machine as Franc kills the creepy track and slams into the dirty groove that is the title reprise. The crowd goes crazy as my crew finishes out the scene, sweating bodies hurling against each other, gyrating to Franc's pounding rhythms, and making suggestive gestures at the crowd.

    Still laying on my back, mostly obscured by the smoke above me, I take a look into the audience. I see Cache out there, and ze's looking straight at me. We remain like that, motionless for several seconds, eyes locked. It's the look on zir face that gets me. I remember that look from the days we were a unit, Cache and me, like one brain distributed across two bodies... a look that understood me without explanation... Cache has seen the contents of my heart. I haven't seen that look in a long time.

    The lights come up; the orgy is well underway. Cache's head turns and I feel Julia's strong arms lifting me up for my bow. Everything is a daze. The crowd is cheering. The front row is turning into a giant sucking, groping, love pit. I take a bow as Jackbird hits me with a spot and force myself back into Maestro D' mode, summarizing the ending for the dimwitted: "And so, the evul Doctor Osama was defeated, and so the lesson of the hero is repeated to all the babies of tomorrow: CAN WE BRAKE IT?" The crowd answers me back in a deafening roar: "YES! WE! CAN!"


    After that it's all a blur of bodies and human energy for a while. By the time the blur fades and it's time to count the jingle, Cache has vacated zir seat.

    But now I know. I know there's a way to get zir back.

    I'm feeling exuberant. Unstoppable.
  • I'm totally jazzed on that shit. I give Ball Pit a big sloppy kiss and touch Godiva's face with the off hand. Something touched a heartstring there.
  • Hottopic, Ball Pit and Godiva are both on you, sharing your kisses and caresses. Its obvious they both want you for their own, but there's no fighting, really. Are you going to sleep with them here and now, Hottopic? With Muzak in your pack and in the middle of this crowd?

    Cache, Mari nods silently, then slips out of the seat to look for lonely hearts, compelled to fulfill your "request". It leaves you alone. You know Jet Black is up there, on stage, alone. He looked at you for such a long moment, and you saw his heart (take +1 HX with Jet Black). He's eager for you to join him. But then, there are so many others here, too What do you do?

    Jet Black, your crew, the ones who aren't fucking, are screaming excited, squealing, gathering up things that were thrown onto the stage by fans. Jules hugs you fiercely, "Thank you, Jet! Thank you! Did I make you proud?" She looks into your eyes, you can see she thinks she did. What do you do?
  • "Well Jules, you're gonna have to tell me." I wait a beat while her eyes grow narrower. "I mean, I'm just a brown #12 skinned man with a giant rubber dick. YOU, on the other hand... Are the new lead dancer of the AngelMetalCircus. Think you can handle that?"

    I'm bombarded by a rush of excited hugs and muffled words, and touch one finger to her lips to settle her down. "Your first order of bizniz will be to help me find a hot new dancer to take your old spot. We're gonna be looking for one right here in the maul, starting tomorrow, so keep your eyes and ears open. Or hey - maybe there's some other talent around here, something new, something we haven't seen before."

    She's giving me that questioning look again. I gesture around at the stage, which right now is a throbbing, writhing mass of congratulatory and gratuitous touching. "Well come on, pussylove, I've got to come up with SOME way to top THIS!"
  • Pull the hood all the way forward, slip a fabric medical mask on, hooked around my ears. Coveraged with an illustration of a fanged mouth. A left over from the time I played a murderous, aphrodisiac alien named Sil from In-Out Space, and shamble twitching to the stage, looking up from the floor.
  • I'll mess around G and Balls for a while, but I'm not gonna out-and-out screw in the middle of this crowd. It's been a long strange day.
  • Cache, sure, you head up towards the stage. Several of the dancers will know you, right? This is more like a costume than an attempt to go incognito, right? Who are you after?

    Hottopic, Ball Pit is good for a kiss and a feel, but Godiva is pushing for more. He's tripped up on something. You'll need to "get the message across". How do you get him off you for good?
  • Playboy,

    You come waltzing into the AMC as the final song is playing. Dancers are taking bows. Well, some of them. Others are part of the crazy orgiastic exult of most of the crowd. You spot Cache in zir mask and gear, heading for the stage. Jet Black is on stage addressing the crowd and his crew alternatively, while DJ Francois is spinning some wicked tunes.

    Hottopic is with a couple members of her crew, one of them sort of pushing her down in a seat and unbucking his belt. Hot does not look like she's up for that.

    GNC, who came with you, he slipped an arm around your waist just a moment ago. But then he saw Hottopic, and says, "Fucking Godiva!" He's going to move up on Hottopic, do something.

    What do you do?
  • "Whoah, Godiva. The fuck? I'm good for a cuddle and a laugh, but I'm not going to get into it in the middle of this crowd. Savvy?"

    I know Godiva pretty well. We've been in some shit, pulled each other out of fires (at least once, literally). I look him straight in the eye, try to communicate that I'm not shitting around, look for his response, what it's gonna take to back him down.

    read a person +1 XP
  • (Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 1, 5. Total: 7)
  • ((How can I get Godiva to back down?))
  • Godiva's drunk and a little high. He's not totally coherent, just working on instinct. You'll need to hurt him to get him off you, or have Ball Pit pull him off, which Ball Pit will probably try to do.

    Oh, GNC is coming over, too. He'll help, for sure.
  • I guess this is why I carry the Hello Kitty stun wand, right? I pull it out, push it up against Godiva's neck, push the button.

    Seize by force
  • (Rolled: 2d6-1. Rolls: 1, 1. Total: 1)
  • Yeah, costume, and some modicum of, if not anonymity, but distraction among the hoi-polloi. Keeping their greasy eyes off my face. It's clashing thoughts and the Maelstrom keans through the rafters. I have to hyperfocus just to make it to the stage without getting sidetracked by a loud thought.

    I'm beginning to realize those thoughts are like blood on the water.

    I weave through the meat to Jet.
  • I'm with GNC, heading up to see to Hottopic's needs. It's weird how sometimes my whip just finds it's way into my hand, right? I don't even remember taking it up.
  • Hottopic, the button doesn't fire. Batteries are dead, doornail dead. Funny, they were charged the other day... right?

    Godiva shoves you back, and he's ripping at your clothes now, "It'll be okay, baby. C'mon now, gimmie some gravy!" Ball Pit is pushing, shoving at him, but he just shoves Ball Pit down, over a row of chairs.

    Playboy, you're right on this. You could stop this fucker. You moved ahead of GNC, since you're, you know, taller and badass and all.

    What do you do?
  • I'm thrashing, trying ineffectively to get a knee in Godiva's balls. I still hurt from my first run-in with Muzak, my right tit's spilling out in the breeze, and I see Playboy with her whip. A beam from one of the stage lights has her backlit so she's like some shadow thing with a bright halo.
  • edited April 2014
    Everyone on stage and within the theater seems engaged and involved, which is the whole idea, so I feel I can finally relax. There's a lot to do, and it has nothing to do with fun. I need to count the jingle from the show, distribute it into cuts, figure out a plan for those auditions, do a strategic reorganization of troupe positions, and flagellate myself (metaphorically speaking) for imperceptible flaws in my performance no one noticed but me. I also want to check out what's happening in the small theaters, see what kind of outmaulers we got here tonight, maybe there's some talent there...

    A glance at Cache's seat. It's empty. Surrounded by flashing lights and clashing bodies, I don't see zir anywhere. Although I do see Hottopic making out with her crew. Smile at the aphrodisiacal effect the show has had on everyone. Exactly as planned.

    Decompression time. I walk toward the back of the stage and hit a button with my foot. A trapdoor opens (we might use it one day for special effects like ghostly appearances onstage) and I head down a rickety ladder, closing the trap above me. Move through the mazelike tunnels beneath the theater, to my cozy little claustrophic office space. Remove the prosthetic dangler, toss it on a huge stack of magazines and CDs. Pour myself a shot of whiskey. Then collapse into my favorite chair, feet up on the desk in my favorite thinking position. Take a sip. Let the pressures of the day fall away, just for a few minutes...

    On the wall opposite, I have pinned up a sketch Jackbird once drew. I'm staring at it now. It's a picture of me and Cache on the opening day of the AMC, arms around each other's waists, dap as hell, beaming. Fuck, we looked good together. Ze was so beautiful before the breeze took away the spark in zir eyes and twisted her motions into weird angular jerks. But our connection was beyond physical. We were like one mind, back in the day. We finished each other's sentences, feeding off each other's energy in a continual loop of better and sexier ideas. We were partners in every sense. Together, we felt we could take on the hole fucking world. Those were the good old days.

    That's all I want. To be back there again, with Cache at my side. Make that happen.

    Finish my drink. Sit there staring at the picture for a while.
  • I'm flogging Godiva. Probably to death. I experience what they once called poor impulse control.
  • edited April 2014
    Playboy and Hottopic,

    Playboy whips Godiva once, then reaches down to grab his neck when he jumps back up off you, Hottopic. She breaks his neck with a twist of her wrist. He jerks once, then slumps with a final "Urk."

    Ball Pit stands up, still reeling from Godiva's shove. She looks pissed, but then, she sees that he's dead, and she shrieks.


    GNC scrambles over to check, make sure he's dead. Then, of course, because he often states the obvious, says, "He's dead."

    What do you do?
  • I'm looking around for Big Mac.
  • Playboy, you don't see him. Maybe he's down on the floor fucking someone?

    You do spot Burrito King, though. That's the guy that put you up to the job. He's getting a hummer from one of the performers.
  • I'll go bother him. "Yo, B-King, Tell Big Mac that Hottopic took care of Muzak, OK?"
  • Fuck. Just... I'm fine. Bruised, but fine. My own fucking fault for not making sure the wand was charged. Hello Kitty let me down, but I let her let me down.


    Number One: Ball Pit. She and Godiva have been a thing for a few years, she's gonna be pissed, and she's gonna be pissed that she was pissed at him when he died. I look around for one of Jet's people that might have something to take the edge off for her. I'll pay jingle out of pocket if I have to...
  • Playboy,

    Burrito King has his hands on the dancer's head, stroking long strands of blonde hair. He looks up, sort of registers you, "Yeah... you bet. I tell him... in a bit." Then he looks down, "Shit.... keep doing that." Back up to you, "Playboy. You wanna... oh fuck. Just stand there. Keep-keep talking and shit?" He's looking right at you, like trying to make eye contact.

    What do you do?
  • Hottopic, you catch sight of Rache, she's flitting around, checking on people. Wave her over? She comes over, "Hey Hotty." She hasn't seen the body.
  • I catch Rache's eye, indicate the body, indicate the shrieking Ball Pit who's tracking Playboy through the crowd.

    "Rache. Situation, I'll explain more later if that's okay. Need something to keep Ball Pit calm while I sort a thing out. Nothing fancy, nothing trippy, just... calm. Right?"
  • Hottopic, Rache sees Ball Pit, who is trackign Playboy, and bawling over Godiva's dead body. She replies with a droll tone, "Ludes will K-O her. We can give her pills. Trade for today's work?"
  • "Great. Trade for the pills. If you can get them in her I'll owe you one, personal-wise."
  • Hottopic,

    Rache heads over there, reaching into her purse. "Got it."

    Now what?
  • Number One, part B (yes, I think this way): Get her the fuck out. Don't want her messing with Playboy, don't want to lose another one of mine. GNC's not exactly a people person, but I don't really know many people people, so I guess he's what I've got. So, after Rache doses up Ball Pit:

    "GNC, I know I'm asking a lot today, but you got to get Ball Pit out, back to the Lab. Keep her calm, whatever. Just get her out. Right?"

    ((In this case, I'm pretty sure GNC will go along. If not, he can let me know while I move on to the next bullet point.))
  • Jet Black and Cache,

    Please go here.
  • Hottopic,

    Ball Pit is talking to Rache, GNC was actually trying to figure out if he should move Godiva's body or what. He looks up, peers. "What about him?" He glances at Godiva.
  • edited April 2014
    If it seems like Rache has Ball Pit under control, then that leaves GNC free to help with Number Two:

    "Yeah, you're right, GNC. Help me with Godiva."

    Heavy sigh, not thinking about shit yet. Leaving Ball Pit with Rache for now. Between us, we carry Godiva back to the lab, just long enough to grab two of the modified iPods from the lockbox. We put them in our pockets and grab Godiva's body again, heading to the edge of the Maul. Doesn't take long for us to pick up a following. People form a kinda cloud around us on three sides, silent. We take the body to a spot with outside access, a weird courtyard kinda space with two angled walls that catch the wind, the Breeze, so it forms eddies and currents and little dust devils when there's a good blow. We set Godiva down for a second and put our iPods on, then pick him back up and take him outside.

    It's bones everywhere, but not as many bones as there have been bodies out here. Sometimes, if the Breeze blows just right not long after someone's been put in the courtyard, the body twitches and starts walking. In the same direction as everyone else. We don't know what happens after that, but it's considered "good luck" if someone you cared enough to "bury" walks away.

    My iPod is playing this:

  • Hottopic,

    With music blaring, you head outside to the graveyard. Do you... say a few words? Drop him and go? How do these funerals go?
  • Fucking GNC. He's looking at me, expectant. He didn't ever even like Godiva, and he's looking at me like "So, boss, don't you have anything to say here?"

    I clear my throat and look at a puff of leaves and, I suppose, people-dust, that's chasing itself around the courtyard. I know the words, and I'd've said them gladly if Godiva hadn't... if I hadn't... fuck.

    So, I say the words.

    Breeze hums, life comes.
    Breeze blows, life goes.

    ..and I can't remember the rest. I can't remember the rest. GNC looks at me, shaking his head, diappointed. He finishes.

    Now it's time to be at ease,
    Now it's time: follow the Breeze.

    We both bow our heads. I'm ashamed.
  • Hottopic,

    And that's it, right? Four lines and done. And you forgot half of it? For your trusted coworker? Man... that's shitty, Hottopic.

    You head back inside. Asking GNC to fetch Ball Pit and bring her back to the shop? Are you going with her or dealing with other... somethings?
  • We head back in to the Maul. Inside, I start walking. Not asking GNC anything. If he still remembers or cares, fine. I'm walking, no particular plan. iPod's still in my ears. The intention is to fetch back up at AMC, check in with Rache and Ball Pit, but not by the direct route.

    This is coming in my ears:

    Emily Portman: Sirens

    ((Yeah, just laid down a MySpace link.))
  • I've checked all my items off my list. I did what Burrito King wanted, I did what Hottopic needed, I did what Jet Black asked me to, close enough. I don't have something else to do so I look around, a little surprised by the content of the scene. I didn't get enough of the act to figure it out, but man, almost everybody is fucking all around me. GNC isn't around -- he'd be perfect right now. But I'll make do. I hike up my skirts, lifting my right leg and swinging around, I plant myself on Burrito King's face. He might as well do something useful while he's getting blown, sitting there in the front row.
  • Playboy,

    Sure, BK's good for that. Especially since he doesn't have to, you know, keep eye contact with that dead-ass stare of yours. Go ahead and fire that sex move of yours. Lucky him, eh?

    Is he any good? If he's able to get it back up, you want to do some more with him? I imagine, like usual, you're the aggressor.

    Does anyone push you around, Playboy?


    You get back to AMC, GNC followed. Ball Pit is sitting in the back row, watching the crazy orgy go on. She's zonked, a trippy smile on her face. She looks up, "Put him... to pasture?"
  • Fortunately, she's too tripped out to see the shamefaced red in my cheeks or GNC's consternation. "Yeah, he's out."

    I got nothing else. I just reach out and grab her hand for a second, then lean back in the chair and let out a big breath. "You wanna head back to the Lab? Seems like it's all fucking and buzzing here. I'm not in the mood."
  • Hottopic

    Ball Pit takes your hand. She's numb, but maybe still a little sad. "Okay, Hotty. Less go." She stands, a bit wobbly.

    GNC is behind you both, arms crossed. "You got that, Hot? I'm... sticking around here. Go have your girl talk or whatever, okay?"
  • "Sure, GNC. Have fun. Thanks for the help." There's a look that says thanks for more than the messenger duty and the body-dragging.

    I walk Ball Pit back to the Lab. She doesn't normally crash here, but I'll put her to bed on a cot. (Not in my "bedroom," no one sleeps in my squat, not even me if there's anyone else with me.) I sit in a duct-taped beanbag chair next to her and just wait to see if she has anything to say, holding my "special" robot in my lap.
  • edited April 2014
    She's fading fast. Laughs a little when she nearly falls a couple times, but you've moved things bigger than her. So, it isn't easy, but you get her back to the lab.

    Ball Pit practically falls into the cot, then sighs. As you're considering sleep yourself, she says, "He... he waz real high, Hotty. He didn... mean it. Don... hate im." Then, she's asleep, like that.
  • edited April 2014
    Is he any good? He's not as attentive as a woman might like, but I knew he was getting blown when I decided to put him to work. He's good enough. I hold him there until I've gotten what I needed and then I decide to leave the theater. Hood reminds me to thank him, "don't forget to thank the nice little boy!"

    So I turn back, look into Burrito King's eyes and give him a kiss. "I'll get my boots tomorrow." And I go.

    Does anyone push me around? Well, of course people occasionally try to. Usually, they're pretty easy to bat aside. Once in a while some hard mother-fucker steps up and we have to figure something out. I don't really think of anyone as being in a position to take what they want from me. I'm the top of the food chain.
  • edited April 2014

    Where do you go? I know you slept with Geezer last night, but do you have place of your own?
  • I don't. If it's sleepy time, I've had my eye on that planter -- the one with the ivy growing in it. We grow food in all the planters in The Maul that get light from the skylights, but there's that one at the corner of Dillards that just won't grow anything so it's allowed to run wild and is full of ivy. I don't think I've slept there before but it's been rolling around in the back of my brain for several days. So I'll just go there and lie down in the ivy.
  • --END SCENE--
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