[Big Maul] Tribunal (C 2.2)

edited May 2014 in Big Maul

After sleeping for a few hours with Mari on your chest, you're nudged awake. It's Eddie. "Cache, some o' the dancers are outside, say they want Mari." Mari lifts her head up, looks at you with concern.

The door is open, Crocs is standing there talking with them. You see Nan, Silver and horn-headed Fail. You think broad-shouldered Smoky is in the hall, looks like him. When you were part of the AMC, how did these dancers treat you? You know, before The Breeze got you, twisted you all up.

What do you do?


  • Nan and I were lovers when the circus started up, but she wasn't big on non-monogamy. Fail us a vicious bastard. Drugged me up luxe, carved a Y like I was toe tagged. That scar is gone, since the Walk. Smoky... was with Jet when he found me.

    <<Mari, go to the service hallway, in back.>>

    I stand, strap my coat, and step toward the door, "What do you need?"
  • Mari nods, hesitates for a moment, but starts to head out the back way. Fail calls over your head at her, "Hold on, Mari. We want to talk to you!"

    Nan moves into the room, but Crocs moves to stay in front of her. She answers you, "Cache, baby, we need to talk to Mari about the AMC. Figure out where our jingle went. The shit she was taking care of for us, you know?"

    Silver nods his clean-shaven head, "Cache, she fucked us three ways from Sunday. We need to find out if there's anything we can get back."

    What do you do?
  • Whisper to Crocs<<Don't let anyone in that door! Break bones if you have to.>>

    I take them all in with an unblinking stare, eyes red and raw and wide, head tilted right and back, torso tiled forward, hands taloned at my sides, "Don't get to just barge in like rude little clams, sweetums. The wind howls through the chinks, minds are blown, and crimes forgotten. Where's daddy, little ones? Don't you have a Jet to catch?"

    My eyes flutter, then slam open. Lids straining at the edges, nostrils flared as I [Open My Brain] XP +1
  • Mari picks up the pace, hustling across the room and trying to get out of sight. Nan puts a hand on Crocs chest, soft, but he slaps it away and growls, "Listen, pretty people. I will mess you up."

    Silver ignores Crocs and addresses you, Cache, "Jet is all fretted up over you, Cache. Keeps talking about walking away from it all, since you two hit The Breeze. We need some jingle NOW, Cache. Big Mac wants rent for the juice we've been using."
  • (Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 6, 6. Total: 15)
  • Cache, you get glimpses around the Maul. You realize you're somehow casting yourself into the Breeze itself, which exists all around you, around everyone, but the Maul itself filters the Breeze. After all, the Breeze is carried by the air.

    You flit through the AMC until settling for a moment in Jet's office. He sits, half awake in his swivel chair, looking on the picture of what was once you with him. He lives in the past, and nothing will meet his vision of what was. He's thinking of The Breeze, the feeling of losing himself to it, walking out into oblivion.

    Moving out of the AMC, you drift towards the Lenscrafters, where broken Mankins mumble and cry their pains to the good doctor, Doc Martens. He resets their bones and sews them up, pulling skin taut and whispering soothing words about their undying beauty. All but one. One Mankin sits in a waiting chair, not asking for help, not asking for the Doc to treat her bruises. She's unsure. But Doc, he's sure. Playboy caused his Mankins pain, it must be revisited.

    A quick trip to the Food Court brings you to the chaotic mind of Sweet N Sour. He's speaking with Big Mac, the two of them have plans to bring Dillards to heel. It will involve violence, as all permanent solutions do.

    Then finally you whisper quiet quick to Hottopics store where Muzak sits. Muzak in the body of the Furrby, in other bodies as well, spreading out, curious, devouring words, for now. But words are not it's only appetite.

    "Cache!" Nan's voice brings you out of your reverie. "Bring Mari to us tonight, or we come back and you get to answer for her. Do you hear me?"
  • The sand swirls into the corners of the room, across the lenses of my raw-red eyes, abrating my face, splintering my lips, and the vestige of the Breeze-in-me swirls out at Nan, and I [Direct In-Brain Whisper, TAG: Loud]XP+1<<No, you won't!>> Eyes fixed, wide, hands splayed, an obvious display.
  • Nan looks at you with alarm, surprised at your sudden turn.

    Let's see how this roll goes, Cache.
  • (Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 5, 6. Total: 14)
  • Nan stops short, frozen. Her eyes are filled with fear. The fear of you, what you've become. She wasn't threatening you, or she didn't mean to threaten you directly.

    You feel the others near her. They see. Silver and Fail and Smoky see this moment. They don't understand, though. Nan breaks eye contact, looking away, ducking her head, cowing. "Let's... let's go."

    "But the rent..." Fail interjects, a little uncertain.

    "Let's go!" Nan repeats with a shrill voice. She moves away from Crocs, towards the door. Mari's hiding. She didn't leave, but moved out of sight of the door, as if to leave.

    Crocs shoves the dancers towards the door, grumbling and grousing at them. He shuts the door in Nan's face. For a moment, she dared to look back at you, Cache. It's like she never knew you.

    What do you do?
  • edited May 2014
    I whisper to each of my children, <<Mari, stay here. Crocs, watch over her. Eddie... relax, but don't leave the Maul. Nobody is following where I'm going.>>

    Step toward the maintenance door, "I need some fresh air." I'm heading to the roof.
  • Mari watches you leave, barely restraining herself from following. Crocs doesn't move from where he was standing, doesn't watch you go. Eddie ducks his head, then heads out the door to the hallway.

    You head out, taking the ladder in the stairwell up to the roof. As soon as you push up the creaky trapdoor and let it clang on the other side of the roof, you feel the warm sun.

    It's a warm afternoon. Peaceful out here. No wind. Off to the west you hear the loud four wheelers and trucks of the Dillards raiders. They have to range further and further out for supplies now. All the strip malls and big box stores have been scrounged, ransacked and pillaged. They're miles away.

    It's just you out here, Cache.

    What do you do?
  • I [Open My Brain to the World's Psychic Maelstrom], casting myself out, seeking the Breeze. If Muzak has a voice, and a hunger, then the Breeze likely does, too. Muzak was just music before, and the Breeze was just wind. They probably woke up for the same reasons. I'm not calling it, but moving across the sands to find it.
  • Let's see some dice. I'm curious to see what you find.
  • (Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 1, 3. Total: 6)
  • image

    You reach out, casting a line. A fisher of souls, or ideas, or thoughts. You feel the wind move your body, carry you along. It is like an ocean. An ocean of those who passed on, given form in The Breeze. You float for a blissful, terrible moment, on the waves of it.

    Underneath the current, there is a tremor, a kind of suction. You feel it at your ankle, then your calf, your knee. In a thought, it is pulling you under. Sound engulfs you. Music swallows you.

    A tiny babelfish enters your ear. Like a song stuck in your head...

    One-eyed, one-horned giant purple people eater

    We all live in a yellow submarine

    It's a small world after all

    I got a pocket. Got a pocketful of sunshine. I got a love that's all mine...

    The sun has moved when you you blink again. Your body aches, like you've been standing still for too long.

    You're on the roof still. You're all alone again.

    What song is stuck in your head right now?
  • Psycho Killer, Talking Heads.

    I can't seem to face up to the facts. I'm tense and nervous, and I can't relax. Can't sleep 'cause my bed's on fire.

    Drag myself back downstairs, dropping off the ladder the last two rungs because my arms are too sore to hold me up any longer. I can't handle seeing people right now, so instead of heading back to the closet, I slip into one of the back hallways, into one of the vents I've used to get around unseen.

    Ce que j'ai fais, ce soir la

  • edited June 2014
    So we're clear, Cache. Somehow Muzak has used an augury-like power to...
    Isolate and protect a person or thing from the world’s psychic maelstrom. The person or thing is you.

    As for how to "cure it", you'll need to talk to Muzak.

    Edited to Add: Cache is aware of this. Ze senses it. Effectively, moves to open brain to maelstrom or try to interact with it are barred by Muzak. Person to person Brainer moves are not impaired.

    --END SCENE--
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