[DVFP] New Brew (J 5.1)


You wake in the early morning to the soft sound of tiny feet moving about your flat. Bee bee's up early and she's moved the curtain aside the tiniest bit to get sun in on your little garden, and she's moving around each row carefully tending to every leaf. Roth is still passed out, and normally you might be tempted to sleep in a bit yourself. Last night was a fine night for revelry. You have plans, though, don't you? You always have plans.

Beckett crashed in Sierra's room, with Reese. Sierra left you to seek out Fleece last night. Krin didn't come back into the bar after the rains subsided, but Missed checked in with you. Did you end up spending any more time at the bar, or did you head to bed at the witching hour?

The Feed is buzzing in your ear, June. It woke you. Something's building. Interest. Buzz. Trending. Something is coming your way, and it's coming soon.

What do you do?


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    I hate to be woken up by the feed. Reminds me of the times when I had automated search alerts as backup alarms. Not good times. I rise up from under the covers and reflexively ping my house's old network for statuses it can't give me anymore.

    My arm is out to shake Roth awake, but I take it back. This could be somethin' not worth wakin' her for. I went to bed quite soon after Sierra left, and Roth joined me later. If she can get some extra sleep, she should.

    Still wipin' sleep out of my eyes, I open myself to the feed, tryin' to parse it and discover what's what. Better to do this before I'm standin'.
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    Why don't you Open your Brain here?
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    Opening Brain: (Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 3, 6. Total: 12)

    Marking XP (2)
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    Blogs, re-blogs, and shares web-wide on follower feeds are talking about The Fat Man, June. He's one hundred percent NOT DEAD. The life-voters are venting at the trolls, and this is trending hard. #DVFPrain and #FatManFall are all over.

    But this morning, before sunrise, all of The Fat Man's goons met in their barracks, and they marched out with a purpose.

    A dozen hard and fast riders sent out to the west, to the Junkyard for bloody vengeance.
    A convoy gathered up for Truk Stop, bound for the heart of UF territory.
    A rider hired with a ton of Depot Dollars to deliver a message to Saint Anger.
    A squad sent to fetch a Feed Majestrix.

    And the cams are picking up the jack-booted thugs coming up the stairs of High Rent for second floor. They're coming to fetch you, June.

    Rothschild sits bolt upright and it isn't clear if your alarm woke her, or if perhaps she caught some of what you pulled down from The Feed. She scrambles quickly to grab clothes for both of you. And a knife.

    Bee Bee looks up from the plants, watching without comprehension. Her tiny hands continue working, but she is curious what's happening.

    What do you do?
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    With Roth's help I get at least my shirt on and crutches under me to move with. "Bee Bee, go hide in the tub." I order with quiet urgency.

    I tie off the sneaky little scalpel sheath I wear on my left forearm under my sleeve, pass her my relayer and hide the pain wave projector. "They're comin' to fetch me, somethin' about an attempt on The Man's life. Prob'ly to ask questions, but that's many boots.."

    "If I need to soften them up all together, I need you at least six paces away. But that's probably no good." I prop myself near the door, but not, importantly, behind where the door would swing if it were kicked violently open. I'll have to see how they came to play. "Most like, I'm'a let them take me, unless they start shite with you or the girl."

    A squad..are you, three, four, five or six soldiers, then?
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    Bee Bee doesn't hesitate, she scampers into the bathroom and hunkers down in the tub, hiding quick-quick.
    "After yesterday, Fat Man's moving hard? Wants to show he's still in charge." Rothschild makes sure you're as presentable as possible before she pulls a shirt over her head. "Don't worry about me, June. I'll watch Bee Bee. And if they don't start shite, I'll find you."
    The boots arrive just outside your door.

    Time draws out as Roth flinches in preparation for what happens next. The tiny echoes of short, sharp gasps of Bee Bee's breath echo from the bathroom.

    Rothschild reaches a hand down to yours. You've got a crutch there, you can't really stay upright and mobile and hold her hand, and you did tell her to step back. She squeezes the top of your hand, and in the last calm before the storm, she whispers, "I love you, June."

    She hops back a few steps as you hear three knocks. "June Weaver! Get dressed! Come out!"

    What do you do?
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    "Mm." I confirm with Roth's analysis..holy shite I even get to be wearin' pants. Not where I'd be with the suit, but I do miss it right about now. "I'll let you know when it's safe."

    I keep my own breathin' slow and even. Wouldn't do to get light-headed right now. "I love you, Claire." I can't hold her back, but I can look in her eyes. Moments like this, I sort of regret the cosmetic mesh.

    But fuggit, I'm a wicked badass with evil eyes what glow red in the dark. My jaw tightens visibly when the door is knocked on, but not knocked down. "Hold your horses! I got to tie on my shoes."

    The squad's intent declared and not yet betrayed, I do indeed grab my shoes and put them on.
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    You are given a few moments to "tie your shoes", since no response is yelled back. Rothschild comes back to you, dropping down to help you get properly dressed, her nimble hands working on laces and belts and all business. Moments later, Bee Bee still panting fearfully in the tub, you're as presentable as you're going to be. And they're still waiting outside your door.

    What do you do?
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    With one last grateful glance to Roth, I stand myself upright and settle on my hat before openin' the door. I block Roth's presence in the room as much as I can with my body as I look at the thugs assembled.

    "I'm here and dressed. What do you need?"
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    Rothschild is well out of their line of sight, and Bee Bee's breathing's quieter now. They probably only see you, June.
    At the door is a guy you've seen a few times at The Irons, a merc Sierra said had a nice singing voice - Kamikaze. He offers you a polite smile, his demeanor's calm in comparison to the goons around him. He's kitted in a set of kevlar armor, a helmet, stun stick, and a pistol. The uniform's a step down from a Fipper uni, but not by much. The others are dressed similarly.
    "Hey there Vinegar," he says with a drawl similar to your own. "Member me? I need you to come with us for a visit with the Fat Man. I don't want trouble, I'm sure you don't either. I know you've got a runt in there, and that little thief, too, and I don't want to care about that. Get me? Can we do this the easy way?"
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    "Deep down in my heart, I'm a lazy person." I confess with a disciplined ease, even while I'm countin' heads. Seein' what kind of attention and care I warrant. As usual when I deal with The Fat Man, there's that calculated touch, sendin' me someone from my home territory to talk to like this.

    "Let's go easy. I'm a little too hung over to impress anyone today, and I wouldn't want to let any care into your visit here." I step out and close the door like I was just goin' on an errand.
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    Kamikaze nods, accepting it, looks to the goons around him who are clad in the same heavy armor. "I appreciate it, Vinegar. You look different, out o' your suit. Still mighty fetching, mind you." He offers a smile, and walks at a nice slow pace beside you, like he's got all the time in the world.
    You spot Reese in the hall, June. He's trying to stay out of the way, but he casts you a quick glance, then looks past you towards Sierra's door.

    One of the goons asks Kamikaze, "What about the singer?"
    "One thing at a time, Fizz." Kamikaze drawls. "One thing at a time." He gestures for another guard to open the door to the elevator. "After you, ma'am."
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    You feel something June. A tickle at the base of your spine. Like your synapses are syncing up with a wireless connection. A familiar one. Sierra has just meshed in with you, and her signal's coming strong.

    Sierra, what do you have to say to June while you're watching her walk away. The connection is solid now, but who knows how long it will last?
  • edited March 2017
    "June..." I sound breathless and just on the sane side of panic. " Do you want me to stop them? I can. You know I can."
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    I let out a soft snort and smirk as he praises my looks. "Why, bless your heart. Most people only want me for my brains."

    When Reese checks in with me, I give a quick, subtle shake of my head. I don't need him at the moment, and if he jumps in it could get seriously ugly, and fast.

    As I reach the elevator, I pause and turn slightly without lookin', like I had heard somethin', maybe from one of the goons with Kamikaze. "Leave them be, I'll be back in no time. This isn't about what you think it is, yet."

    "Pardon me," I announce as I step into the elevator.
  • I grimace in worry... "She's coming for me June, and she's gonna kill whoever is in the way. How do I protect anyone... they said the singer... What should I do?"

    I look back into the apartment, to get a glimpse of Fleece. I don't want to leave her. But, I am not sure what would be best. Without June, do I have any hope in protecting Fleece at all? Without me, does she have any hope in not being captured?

    I... I can't just leave her.

    OOC: Initiating "Eager To Know"
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    Kamikaze steps into the elevator with you. Another guard, a guy with long hair peeking out under his helmet, tries to get on with you both, but Kamikaze holds up a hand, "Stairs, Horse."
    The elevator doors close. What song is quietly playing in the elevator right now?
    "Gotta say, Vinegar," Kamikaze drawls. "Ize mighty glad to hear you got out of The Irons. And you oughta know that Fat Man's sending out a force to rain some hell on the United Front. I only wish Ize joinin' them."
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    "Fat Man has plenty o' Feed resources. My guess is he's after you as a piece against Gloriana. I've dealt with him before - if you want to..protect Fleece?" The thought is new in my mind, but firm. "They're goin' to come back for you, for questions and a deal, or a capture, no doubt. Either be ready for that, or find Beckett and be gone."

    Right now..well, it's too perfect, but the little speakers are whisperin' out..

    "I'm not like to miss the United Front when they're gone." I lean in the corner of the elevator, not content to play my hand further with a soldier. "I left the Irons well before it was troubled so. Still, it's a sad time for the whole valley - what will those miners do with their lives now? One less thing to look forward to in here without the Diamond. Fuel's not gonna be as pure."
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    Kamikaze nods, "It is a sad time." Kamikaze says as the elevator comes to a stop. He reaches out to press the door close button to hold a moment longer, "Ziggy should have never been put in charge of that sector." He holds your eyes as he says this, then he releases the button to open the doors.
    Outside the goons are down the stairs and waiting, Horse stands by the side door, holding it open.

    When you follow Kamikaze outside, the sun's rising and the ground's still damp. Horse walks briskly past you to get in the driver's side of this:
    "The Fat Man didn't want to inconvenience you with the travel, Vinegar." Kamikaze says as he walks with you towards the cart. Seems like he's going to sit on the back area, giving you the front seat.
    What do you do?
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    I watch Kamikaze's face as he lays out the root problem. Hindsight is 20/20, and all that. I'm bein' appealed to as part of the old Irons. Interestin'.

    Huh. I can't help but blink at the cart. "Well, I'll travel in style today. Call me June, Kamikaze." I set myself down in the front seat and twist back a little. "Used to be a golf course on this land, huh? Wonders never cease."
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    The ride on the golf cart attracts some eyes, and you see the long line of folks waiting to get out of Depot. As you head towards the barracks, you hear gunfire, and a few people shouting from the walls, the sounds of cars and bikes zooming away. Kamikaze gets on a radio and you hear, "Some fools busted out."

    Another voice replies, "I see them." After a moment, "Let them go. The riders will deal with them outside. I'll divert some forces to clean up."
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    I'll make a show out of it, playin' luxurious to any pryin' eyes. Fuggit, in here I'm apparently a known high roller and that is always goin' to entertain me to some extent.

    I listen to the radio chatter. All makes sense, the long line, the eager folk breakin' out. Doesn't feel quite like my business.
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    You're driven to the closest barrack, with the rest of Kamikaze's unit march-jogging after the golf cart. The barrack is a huge quonset hut with dozens of men and women in uniforms, a level of organization The Fat Man's goons haven't shown until this point.

    You're led inside the long building into an office, and inside is The Fat Man. He's smoking a cigar, seated behind a metal desk on an executive chair. There's a small bandage on his left cheek, but he otherwise looks as impressive as before. Moreso, perhaps, since he's in the flesh.

    What do you do?
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    I scan over the faces assembled here as casually as I can. I haven't been around enough to really know many people by look, but I wonder if this is showin' me an infusion of more people.

    I actually doubt that - Depot's gang has always been huge. But whatever happened to the Palace while I was sleepin' off last week..perhaps that's snapped them out of a lull. Snapped TFM out of a sleepy, wealthy haze.

    As I approach and take a seat on the other side of his desk, I'm forced to take in the presence of The Fat Man in the body, large and yet wrapped in a feeling of precise motion and thoughtful stillness. Certainly I'd look even more the scarecrow stood next to him, and he could break me like dry straw.

    Just because I don't see the equipment I knew to exist in the palace doesn't mean it isn't here. But it's possible, at least, that it's gone.

    As I settle in and breathe the cigar smoke of his in jealously, I start right in on it. "That smells like a smoulderin' bit of heaven. You need me for something."

    I watch his reactions, and those of the people next to him..in a sense, TFM's body extends into the will he exudes, anticipated by his people.

    Definitely want to have a Read Person on him in this face-to-face.
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    The Fat Man takes a pull off his cigar, then slowly blows the smoke so that it wafts towards you. "I do, June Weaver. I most certainly do." He is composed, if a bit humbled to be here in this small office instead of his fuggin' palace.

    Kamikaze and Horse stand behind you, there are no guards behind The Fat Man. After a moment, your host gestures towards one of the chairs, "Please. Have a seat. Kamikaze, you can leave us." He doesn't address Horse, Horse follows Kamikaze out, and the door clicks shut, then you hear it lock.

    "I need someone with more insight. I believe you're the woman to fill the job. Are you... available?"
    Read away.
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    Rolling Sharp: (Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 3, 6. Total: 11)

    Marking XP (3)
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    "I've been known to gather up knowledge. I've started a personal venture and will need to dedicate most of my time to it, so my availability is limited. But, it's all rather expensive.." I fan out a gloved hand and then close it again, implyin' my flexibility.

    I breathe in the cigar smoke almost gratefully, thinkin' about how it doesn't count against Fleece's orders since I'm not the one smokin' it.

    "Plus, there's insight, and then there's insight..I need more details."
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    The Fat Man takes another puff off his cigar, blows out some smoke your way. "I'm willing to divulge more details, but what I propose is extremely dangerous. Even for the DVFP. I have gained a very power opponent, June Weaver, and I need powerful allies." He pauses, looking at you for a long moment, "Once I tell you the story, you become either an asset. Or a liability."
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    Things fall into place in my mind, things I can expect him to know, more or less. Everything else is a matter of fit.

    "The only dangers truly worth pursuit in the DVFP are extreme. Just as it was on the outside, really. And here we are, jostlin' over what is ultimately my blind commitment to a possible risk."

    I clear my throat and glance around. "Hrm, could I trouble you for some water? I'm still a little dry from sleep."

    Whatever his answer, I go on, tryin' to strike a balance between lookin' like a powerful ally and lookin' like someone who could be..improved by being brought into a fold. "We're both cautious people, who would prefer to move when we're certain. I've rarely had that luxury in my life, though. I would leave, in fact, if I didn't suspect I already knew the gist of what was happenin' here. Tell me your story."

    Let's get a question out of the way; What's he really feeling?
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    When you ask for water, he calls for Kamikaze to bring you a glass of water. A few moments later, he brings you a glass of clean water. It's cool, tastes good. You continue and The Fat Man listens while smoking.
    "Funny you mention the outside, June Weaver," The Fat Man says as he lays his cigar in a huge glass ashtray on the desk. "The outside has never been a significant threat to me until now. There is a power who wishes to overturn how things work in here. I need someone who can work with The Feed. Parcher was a member of the United Front, so I wouldn't work with him even if he were still living. Gnarly's reach is lesser than he perceives, and he is not trustworthy. You, however," He leans forward to push the ashtray across the desk. The metal screeches slightly, and then you see that fat stogie right in front of you, smoke curling up in delicious trails.

    "I can trust you. As long as we are working towards the same goal, of course." He glances to the cigar, then back to you.
    He's feeling worried. He's not afraid, he's beyond afraid, but the attack on his home, how brutally effective it was, the follow-up from the Fippers who fired on his home and killed his people, then left without actually restoring order, that has changed the game.
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    The water is most certainly called for, I savor it despite its simplicity as a pleasure. I'm displeased that Parcher's affiliation was what would stop TFM from working with him, though I suppose that affiliation does account for much.

    I watch the stogie and ashtray scrape towards me ahead of his hand, pushin'. Well, I do solemnly swear to resist temptation next time. I pluck it off the tray and draw in some smoke, holdin' it for a heady moment, then puffin' it out in practiced rings.

    "You know..I think we can work towards the same goal. I don't like the way things are shiftin' in here, myself. Exceptin', of course, that they represent opportunities for me." I pause, then gesture into the air with the cigar. "What kind of precautions do you have in here?"
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    He looks past you, towards a corner, "Double layer of feed disruptors," The Fat Man answers. "They hide us from the cameras. I try not to use it for long in one spot since it will show as a black hole in their network."

    He seems satisfied with your agreement, "One of the sub-wardens is playing her own damn game, and she sees me as a threat. I've decided to prove her right."
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    "Mm, I'm interested in bloodyin' her nose on principle. Gloriana has been misbehavin' with her power over DVFP for a long time." I tap ash off of the cigar and into the tray, sparin' a glance at the corner. "So I take it you want to gather insight about her movements and plans via the Feed, maybe a little blackmail material, and stay one step ahead? Or did you have something more specific in mind?"
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    He sits back in his chair, which creaks slightly. "Got it in one, June Weaver. We start with what you can dig up from her on The Feed. Blackmail. Forewarning. That's the first step. Once we have some information on that end, we will dig deeper. A bloody nose might be enough to get her to back off, but I sincerely doubt it. That woman seems like she might enjoy a challenge, so we need to find ways to goad her into overreaching."
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    I just tilt my head and make a mild face when he mentions how a bloody nose might not be enough. No mention of how the last time I gave someone a bloody nose they also died. "Fair, I've thought similarly. People like her, they tend to get excited and think things are all about them, and when they're attacked so, they're at least partially right. What's the pay goin' to be like?"

    Another pull on the cigar, then I'll push the smoke out through my nostrils.
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    "Whatever you make selling your vinegar and flowers in a month, double it." He answers magnanimously. "And as long as you put our work top priority, you can keep working on your current projects. Including the new mobile unit." He smiles, "Don't think I haven't noticed what's in my town, June Weaver."
  • edited March 2017
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    Like I was ever goin' to hide a rig in Depot.

    I smile back. "I've already got Gloriana's Feed frequency. I can leverage it immediately in return for your current terms, plus your word of honor that you won't interfere with my people. That means Rothschild, the little girl Bee Bee, Beckett and Missed."

    "I'm curious also, what do you plan to do about Sierra?"
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    "Beckett, I'll happily put her under your umbrella. She's making a run for me right now. Good driver. Do you realize Missed owes me a jingle for going AWOL? If you want that agreement, I'll need her to settle that account. " He does pointedly ignoring the Sierra question for now.
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    "I'll cover that amount for her and she can settle with me separately, I'd like to keep this tidy as possible."

    I lean back and lazily replace the cigar in the ash tray, looking at it, and then back up to TFM. "Sierra is my student and I'm deeply concerned for her freedom and safety durin' this power struggle." Some of this question..banks on him knowin' a little bit more about me from the Feed. But it should work without that.

    How can I keep TFM from cutting off Sierra's access to me and all of the friends who support her?
  • edited March 2017

    "If she's your pupil," The Fat Man says while leaning forward to pull the ashtray back across the desk. He takes up his cigar again, "I'm sure you're aware of Sierra's relationship with Gloriana? There is nobody else in DVFP who has the resources to protect her better than I." He takes a puff, then blows out some smoke. "And now, I also have the will to do so. If only to piss off the sub-warden."

    EDIT - you accept this job (done?) and make sure Sierra gets close to TFM as well.
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    "I'm well aware, and therefore I understand her value in..creating irritation in Gloriana." I have another sip of water, then lean forward, foldin' my hands together and restin' my chin on them. "I believe it's important to her well-bein' that she be able to spend time on her hard-won friendships, as she likes. This does have the added benefit of pissin' off her narcissistic ex."
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    The Fat Man nods, "She is a valuable asset, and a potential ally. I have no desire to make her stay uncomfortable. If visits from her friends and her tutor keep her happy, that's a price I'm willing to pay. However, her presence near me is important. I'm sure you understand this, correct?"
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    "Near you." I give him a slow, old-fashioned look, then let my eyes wander up to observe the corrugated metal roofing. Back to the small bandage on his face.

    "That's probably for the best, all things considered."

    I lean back in the chair once more. "Well, then! I've heard no opinion from you on Rothschild and Bee Bee. I assume I'm on my own with them, bribin' guards per incident and instructin' them when I can. That's good enough, no worse than before."
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    The Fat Man gets your meaning, with the look up, then to his face. His answer is a subtle nod like "yeah, exactly".

    "I don't know who Bee Bee is, but I'm aware of Rothschild, and her penchant for taking things that aren't hers." He clears his throat and taps some ash off the end of his cigar into the ashtray. "If she steals from me, I expect recompense from you. When you aren't willing to pay that price, to make things whole, then she is no longer welcome in my house." He looks at you very seriously, "My house, June Weaver, is very large. Do you understand?"
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    "My mobile unit happened to come with a ward. Bee Bee's just a child. Roth, on the other hand.." I take a breath to think.

    "I've covered her costs before. I'll do it again if I have to. I assume your house includes Depot and any place policed by your gang?" Assumin' I'm right, I go on. "This is a dangerous promise for me to make, it's altogether too easy for someone to claim Roth stole somethin' and put me on the hook for it without proof. But since it's just you and myself in here right now..I'm not so worried."

    I rub my chin idly. "I assume we'll have opportunities to negotiate new terms should success meet our doorstep and a new status quo forms?"

    The last of my questions; is he telling the truth?
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    You are right about what "his house" includes, at least from his reaction.
    The Fat Man listens to your logic and offers up, "I value honesty, and if I find a member of my staff has lied about theft, the repercussions will be severe. When someone lies, they murder a part of the world."

    On the questions about re-negotiation, he nods, "Negotiations are always open, June Weaver. I prefer it that way."

    Is he telling the truth? Mostly yes. He has no ill will towards Sierra and will treat her as a guest, hostage, and employee in alternating order based on the needs of the moment. He plans on treating you, Beckett, and Rothschild fairly, couldn't care less about a ward of yours. But there's something subtly different about your interaction with him, different from the previous meeting. There's a lie in there, June. Something beyond this conversation.
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    I wonder if he's fixed on a memory of Gerhardt or Metallica. Still, I recall the biometric devices that scanned me before, the exceedin' interest in the truth as experienced and presented. "I appreciate that. Between the two of us, what luxuries are spent on knowing truth, I wonder."

    Slowly, in pieces, I stand myself up. There isn't much I can do right at this moment (that I haven't already done) to make things better for my varied little crew or myself. I have that sense that I often get..I'm not bein' tested quite like before. Could be because he has leverage on me. Could be he's in a hurry. Could be (try not to laugh) that he really sees me as trustworthy.

    I've also wondered, in the recent past, who handled TFM's data needs for him. Did he do it himself? If so, is his hardware internal or external, and where does he keep it? If not, how did he recruit this person, how does he keep them satisfied? And most of all, what on earth is he generating eight hundred mass units of data with and for?

    Like a magician, the lie that bolsters the illusion comes well before the illusion itself. I extend my hand for a shake. "As always, it's a pleasure doin' business with you, sir. I agree to our terms and should be on my way presently to work."
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    After a brief moment of hesitation, The Fat Man rises from his chair and moves around the desk to close the distance between you, and takes your hand. His grip is firm. "I look forward to seeing the fruits of your efforts, June Weaver. Thank you for meeting with me."

    You find Kamikaze standing outside the office waiting. His taller partner's gone. Once the door's closed, he inclines his head towards the outside, "Need a lift, June?" He gives a half-grin, then walks with you towards the exit and out to the golf cart. "How did it go?"
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    I can't roll sloppy here like I did with Gnarly - two men could hardly be more different. "You're quite welcome. Oh, while I still have you 'in hand' - how would you like those fruits delivered?" I fix him with an earnest, curious look. My own grip is..whole, but not strong.

    After he's answered, I'll simply nod and accept my escort. "It went fairly well, Kamikaze. Were you pullin' for me out here?" I grin for him fully as I take hold of the top of the golf cart, the better to watch my head, and ease into the seat.
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    "If you're able," The Fat Man answers, "Bring them to me at my palace. If not, send it via runner or notify one of my people and I will send some people to you." He watches you leave.

    Kamikaze chuckles as he puts the key in the little ignition and the golf cart pulls away after he makes sure you're seated. You start riding away from the barracks back towards High Rent. "Of course I was, June. The Fat Man needs someone like you working for him. Glad you found a place to agree."

    You ride for a bit longer, and he yells at some folks to move out of the way, which they do. He looks over, "You need anything? Back to High Rent, right?"
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    "Hm. Strange that he's gone so long without. Well, all that's goin' to change." I glance at the ignition and lean to look at the battery packs, wonderin' how he charges this little fugger here.

    "Sure, just to High Rent. I ought to get started and ease some nerves besides." I'm actually feelin' my oats a little bit and might like to walk the whole way, but ridin' back is a signal to any who witness it.
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    "Good stuff, June, good stuff all around. With Fippers leaning on Depot, having someone like you around is exactly what we've needed." He reaches a hand over to pat your knee in a weirdly affectionate way, "A whole different game than selling shite at market down in a mine, right? Funny how life changes."
    Up ahead is High Rent and in a moment, he pulls the cart up to a door, and gets out to walk you back to your room.
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    "Very true, very true." Is Kamikaze sweet on me or are there more hopes at play for my work with TFM than I know here? Ah well, can't say my mind is on it at the moment.

    I stand up and roll my shoulders a little. "Thank you for the escort, Kamikaze, I can make it from here."

    I send a brief message to my relayer. "I'm back. Things are alright."
  • edited March 2017
    While you make your way into High Rent, Kamikaze watches, bids you a good day.
    Through the relayer, you feel Rothschild's response, "I took Bee Bee out to market. Went by the rig, there are eyes on it. Nobody obvious, but eyes. We're safe. I miss you. I'm glad you're alright, I can belay my plan of ultimate destruction and vengeance now."

    After a moment, "It was less of a plan and more of a notion. Are you back at High Rent? Need anything from market? I love you."
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    I tip my hat to Kamikaze and pass through the door. There, walkin' into the halls of High Rent, I let out a throaty chuckle for no apparent reason.

    "That was a good plan. Probably they want to make sure we don't leave with the rig, though it may partially be a courtesy. You two had breakfast? Or was there too much ultimate vengeance?" I let my amusement bleed through.

    "I'm back at High Rent. I wouldn't mind an egg or somethin'. I love you, and I'll see you soon."
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    You feel a hint of the warmness from Rothschild, mixed with her relief. "An egg. Or something. Not a problem. The kid's sharp, by the way. She'd be a good spotter, but her eyes freak everyone out. I got her a hood. She doesn't like it. Kids are a pain. I'm brain rambling, not sure how to turn it off."
    You head up the elevator to second floor and to your room?
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    "We'll work on it. I'll close the connection from here, darlin'." After a final moment to receive any goodbyes, I do just that.

    Back up to the room I go, lookin' around to see what I can see, plannin' to get to the little parts of my mornin' routine that had to be abandoned. After, that is, gettin' word about Sierra.
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    Let's have you move here.
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