[NU] Fancy meeting you here [Ro1.3, Ru1.3]

edited June 2014 in nupocalypse
Robinson, the afternoon sun is a warm contrast against the cool spring wind. Corbett was all too eager to get you the piece you needed for Harrow's glove. In fact, he was there with his sister, and older brother, chatting about what they could do while waiting. Harrow and Foster agreed to head out to the ruins and get whatever it was you needed, checking in periodically to see if someone happened to wander in with it. After that, you left for the church, looking for Rue. You find her coming back from working at something, she looks dirty and is carrying gardening tools with her.

Did you bring the glove with you?

Rue, this happens a few days before the incident with Shan, Corbett and Doghead. Specifically, a the day after your tryst with Foster and Harrow. You're on your way back from the garden. You see Prim outside the church, fixing a busted window with a pristine (but dirty) one. How is your garden going, by the way?


  • edited June 2014

    Robinson's on the way back from meeting with Corbett when he detours up the road to Rue's church to see if she's around. As luck would have it, she is. He approaches, obviously intent on having a word.

    "Ever know someone named Jones?" he asks right off, never one for greetings or introductions. "Someone with a glove like this?"

    He pulls the glove from his pocket. He had brought it to show Corbett & co. the dimension of the required power source.

  • [Rue]

    Mornin' after the nice good frak with them two? Well hell, I'm inna helluva good mood then. Whistlin' a song called Carry on my Wayford Son or somesuch, a sprin in my step. I waved at Prim, 'cause it's neighborly, an headin in fer some work.

    My lil plot's doin' mighty fine, thank ya fer askin'. Got me some herbs mostly fer this crop. I 'specially like the mint, 'cause it smells an tastes nice. I'm chawin ona leaf while cleaning Shelly when Robbie comes in on me.

    When he walk up, Ize in half my gear. Got my shitkicker boots an my heavy pants on, just in case. A lil sleeveless top that don't match it all on account o' it bein' yella an purty. But it feels nice, an if I look inna mirror at just my top, I almost look like a girl.

    That glove in Robbie's hands.

    I freeze fer a second, then put the brush an trigger mechanism down on my lil table. My mouth's cotton fer a second. Mebbe longer. I nod, an then I make my mouth answer 'im, "Yeah. He tole me once Ize already dead."

    "Where'd you get that?"
  • edited June 2014

    Robinson pulls up a seat, settles on it across the table from Rue.

    "Maybe you outlived him," Robinson says, turns the glove inside out. Right under the tag, in nice script: Jones. He sets it down on the table.

    A little Robinson moment here that no observer might detect: the thought he dedicated to putting the glove down on the table in such a place that it was sufficiently respectful of the space dedicated to Rue's disassembled assault rifle and each of the individual parts but also that it was sufficiently obvious that she was welcome to pick it up. No obvious pause: he scanned the table as he sat down. Robinson isn't much for social niceties but he has a lot of respect for a workspace, and for not disturbing it.

    "Came into town with some strangers. They asked me to fix it. I thought you might have seen something like this before."

    Looking over the rim of his glasses, he studies Rue.

  • [Rue]

    I feel Robbie's eyes on me, but that glove has mosta my 'ttention. I don't mind Robbie bein close. I guess I know 'im well enough to know who an what he is. So he can watch me. Like Roark. I know Roark, an I don't mind havin' 'im around.

    "Yeah." I answer as I reach o'er an pick it up. "I seen it afore. Jones used it on folks. Used it on me, too. He could. Get in yer head. Make ya do shit fer 'im." I don't like this glove. Mebbbe it does mean Jones is dead.

    Don't look up, but I'm rollin' 'round what Robbie said. "Aint but a couple o' strangers in town lately, Robbie. Harrow an Foster bring this o'er to ya?"

    I wanna know 'bout this glove. Did Harrow kill Jones an take it? I kinda like that idea.
  • edited June 2014

    Rue independently confirms the glove's chilling purpose. It makes Robinson wonder who could have made something like it, and why. Then he'd have to ask himself why he's built half of the stuff in his own workshop.

    He folds his hands together on Rue's work table, one over the other.

    "It's Harrow's. They have a brother. Corbett. He brought this to me."

  • [Rue]

    "Burn it." I say as I look up in 'is eyes.
  • edited June 2014

    Robinson takes the glove back, slips it into a pocket, shakes his head. He doesn't just repair things. He fixes them. There's a world of difference there. On some level he realizes that his plans for the glove won't put an end to its legacy of badness, just complicate it for those that would use it.

    But then, Robinson likes complicated.

    "I had a better idea," he says. A tight smile, hidden by his prodigious facial hair. It fades as he realizes Rue may not yet appreciate the brilliance of his plot. "I can show you when I'm done."
  • edited June 2014

    I watch Robbie take the glove right outta my hands, puts it away. I let it go, didn't wanna touch it inna first place, really. This man is spooky as all hell somma times.

    I try an say casual, mebbe a lil friendly, "Why doncha tell me now, Robbie? Let me in on yer lil secret."
  • edited June 2014

    "Hard to say, exactly," he says. He doesn't say it hesitantly, just matter-of-fact, and Rue is making him a little nervous with the deliberate friendliness. "Make it work both ways. See how the wearer likes it."

    Not quite that simple. Not just anyone call put on a violation glove and get into someone's head. Not in a deliberate way, at least. But there are little shrouds in place just behind the contacts, baffles really to prevent psychic kickback or whatever you want to call it. Robinson can take them out and there's no telling the difference short of taking the glove apart again and having an understanding how it works.

    Robinson isn't even sure he understands how it works, but he's a good guesser.

    He's about to get up and leave. Something makes him speak, instead:

    "What did Jones do to you?"

    Reading Rue: 9. What's Rue really feeling?
  • Read a Person: (Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 3, 6. Total: 9)
  • [Rue]

    If tellin' Robbie the truth'll help 'im trust me here, I can do that. I'll answer, straight up.

    Helping Robbie's Read
    (Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 4, 6. Total: 10)
  • [Rue]

    "Well, it goes without sayin that an a-hole like that told me to frak 'im." I say it cool, not hurt, not sexy or nothin. Just sayin' in. "An I did. An he made me kill fer 'im." That's also matter-o'-fact. "Which I did. Not fer pay, like I do now. Just so he wouldn't hurt me no more. He's the only a-hole out there that scared me, Robbie."

    "That glove scared the shit outta me."

    How am I feelin? Guilt in e'er word. Not fer the folks I kilt. Not fer sleepin' around. Guilt at the loss o' control. At lettin' Jones own me. He owned me, lock, stock an barrel. Ize his. Not his girl. Ize his dog.
  • "Scares me too," Robinson says. For those on the receiving end of the glove to get a fair shake will mean things are different from now on. Not less scary. Scarier for Harrow, in fact.

    He does get up this time. If Rue has nothing more to say, he'll simply leave.
  • [Rue]

    I realize Robbie's fixin' to leave, but that damn glove's burnin' a hole in my heart. Is Jones dead? Did he send it with Harrow to get at me again? Er summin else? I gotta know if this glove means he's dead. I just gotta.
  • [Rue]

    Opening Brain about that glove an Jones:
    (Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 6, 4. Total: 12)

    (+1 XP)
  • edited June 2014
    Robinson, where to after this? Back to the workshop? Or more errands?

    Rue, the familiar smell of peaty scotch, and cheap tobacco flood the air again, and you feel a presence behind you. "Brings back memories, donnit Sweet cheeks?" the familiar voice teases, "he had a lot of fun with you... I can see why you make people pay now – seeing as they just don't measure up. Good thing you got those guns now. You're 'bout the only thing inna world he wants more'n that glove."

    Then, just as the voice behind your head gets close, you feel another presence – one that slips an arm around your shoulder. It leans in close to your ear, to the point where you can all but feel his rancid breath on your skin. In a low whisper, a second voice – his voice – adds, "hold on to that for me, won't you dear? I'll be there to collect it shortly. Be a good girl and watch me come over that hill just. Over. There." Your eyes are drawn to the highway behind the park, specifically a rise just behind it. He's coming for you. You know it.

    The stench of your visitors slowly fades, and the world returns to normal. What do you do?
  • [Rue]

    "He aint dead." I say, voice quiet, like if I say it loud, he'd come sooner. "He aint dead, an he's gonna come fer that glove, Robbie." I lookit 'im, an I lost all my swagger, I know it. "Ya oughta burn it."

    I know he won't. I can see it in 'is eyes. Robbie's gotta fix it.

    I need a drink.
  • Rue, I almost forgot to ask, what drew you to Jones in the first place?
  • edited June 2014

    Robinson is still, his gaze set unflinchingly on Rue.

    He was in no rush to get back to the workshop, or to run further errands, but to end the conversation, having learned the little something that had pricked his curiosity. He's not one for hanging around to make small talk. Maybe with his hands occupied, or his eyes, but the idle conversation has always made Robinson uncomfortable. Or maybe Robinson makes idle conversation uncomfortable.

    Robinson sees a chink in Rue's armor, though, and this is fascinating to him. Something makes him want to stand there, and watch, and listen and see what spills out.

    Spending more hold: what does Rue intend to do?
  • edited June 2014

    Whadda I intend to do? Well, Ize plannin to let you do ya thing with the glove, an then when ya finish, Ize gonna talk ya into testin it with me. Er well, mebbe on me. I figger if its two-way, then I guess it aint so bad. Then me an Harrow might get on even footin.

    I figger a big ole scientist like yerself will be pleased as punch to have a willin subject, and yer weird enough that I don't think ya'd do anythin' to me. Well, nothin' I aint done myself. Hell, this is the most ya talked to me in forever.

    An if ya don't test it on me, then I'll prolly take it away from Harrow. Which I don't wanna do. But I don't like havin her over me.
  • [Rue]

    What drew me to Jones? Well, it aint his bedroom eyes, 'cause he aint that purty. An it wasn't 'is jingle, 'cause back then I had all the jingle I needed. Ize with my gang then, fer all that mattered.


    He was fire. Ize just a lil moth. Ize drawn to 'is power, how he carried hisself. That feller was confident. In control. I wanted to be near 'im, to frak 'im and be 'is girl. First time I seen 'im, I just knew he'd treat me right, that I'd make 'im stronger, we'd be together. I figgered I wasn't like any o' the other girls.

    An I wasn't. They were purty. Ize deadly. Didn't change nothin', though. Ize still 'is dog. Still 'is tool. Damitall, hearin' the gang tellin' me 'e wants me just now. It makes me mad, and it gives me a lil thrill, too. I hate myself fer that thrill. But it's there.

    I'll be watchin' that hill fer a long time. Dread an hope all twisted up in me, watchin'. Damitall.
  • [Robinson]

    She'll want to see how it works. Robinson is sure of it. That, or wait for an opportune moment to destroy it, which he wouldn't mind, really, if only he could first finish the task and deliver the product. No destroying the glove on Robinson's watch. He has to finish the job- though, of course, not always according to the client's wishes. Better yet, showing Rue how it works means Robinson gets a prime opportunity to test the thing.

    At length, he speaks: "You should come see it when it's done."

    And try it out.
  • [Rue]

    "Yeah." I answer after a bit. Takes me a breath or two to pull myself away from mem'ries o' Jones. "You, ah. You need any help with it, Robbie?"
  • [Robinson]

    Rue calls him Robbie. Funny thing, that. He doesn't mind, not exactly, but not many people call him that. Most get a stony glare for using Robbie but for whatever reason he has made an exception of Rue. He's not sure why.

    "Need a power source for it. Got Harrow and Foster to look for one. Thirds is on the scent, too."

    The glove is folded double in his hand, tucked inside his left hip pocket. He fights a small personal battle against the urge to keep it there; withdraws the glove and holds it out before him, exposes the slot for the power source. "Like this, or close to it. Similar size and I'll fabricate the difference."
  • [Rue]

    I lookit the hole fer the battrie or whate'er. Don't know why he's showin' me such things. Aint like I know any o' 'is shit. But I'm practicin' on bein' polite, so I look, an I'll mark 'is words. O' course, I hardly know half 'is words, like fabbershate or whate'er. Robbie'll do what he does, an Jones' glove will be right frakkin here.

    "I'll keep an eye peeled. If we don't find it 'round, we can head back into the city fer it." 'Cause the city's got most e'erythin'. Plus Anoms.
  • Ending this scene too.
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