To Ross & Silica:
I'm curious. After the adrenalin went away and the smell of the dead bodies started creeping forward into the narrow corridor beneath the sewer cover, what did you two talk about for the last three hours?
Did you pick through any more of their stuff? Try to recover the Saved by the Bell discs, Silica?
Ross, you haven't seen any of Carnation's bully boys. It's as if maybe Carnation found what he's looking for... which is weird, Ross, since you're here. So that must mean Molotov is fucked.
Silica, maybe its just in your head, but you felt Frontside Indy Grab slip away. The connection you had with him, or maybe on him faded, and you felt it. How was that?
Comments
Yeah if this guy isn't stopping me I actually return to the room, looking for another way out... Not finding one I guess. But with the adrenaline fading and the shock of violence gone, my practical side returns and I'll poke through the things.
Saved by the bell? Yeah... But I'll grab a few others, too. Those crazy cartoons. Sucks about the fucking teevee thought.
Eventually I guess we may say a few words, but I avoid provoking him.
"You killed the shit out of these guys...." I may comment as I go through the room.
I'll say a few words about that connection... Later.
I'm trying not to talk, frankly... I mean, sure, if she asks me a question or something I'll answer; but lowering my voice like that rubs my throat raw, and I'm not sure what the fuck I'd even talk about. I'm trying to focus on finding some shit to make this little bloodbath worth while... So far this place is mostly old videos of stupid shit — there are pictures of vapid women with big tits on the covers in scantily clad clothing... Fucking chauvinists.
If there's anything that might be worth some jingle, or possibly even good for survival, I'm taking it... Except fatass' gun — I noticed Silica doesn't have one, so I gave it to her. "This isn't the kind of world where you can walk around without one of these."
Ok, fuck this shit. Is this asshole worried about me? Come in here like that, get a sniper on our door and then act like he's gotta tell me the way things are??
I stare at the gun as he holds it out to me for a second, then I kind of snap, suddenly going off. It's kind of a desperate release of pent up anxiety that just burst out.
"Ok... what the fuck, man? You come in here... kill these fuckin' guys and now you gonna' give me fuckin' advice? I was doin' just... just fuckin' fine on my own, ok? And... and what if I take that gun and just... fuckin' put a bullet in you? Why the hell are you here?"
I back off from him a little, just in case. Haven't touched the gun yet.
I sigh, disappointed, "whatever. Put a fucking bullet in me, for all I care — then what? Risk being sniper-bait? If not for my missing that stupid fucking owl, and hearing the ricochet on the manhole cover, I never would have thought to come down here — you think whatever bullshit arrangement these assholes made with you was going to last?" I don't fucking think so.
You're able to scrounge together some crap, put it in a few packs to take with you. Ross, you find something you lost, from way back. What is it?
Silica, you find a picture of Nollie in here. Does she really look like you? What strikes you about her?
He's talking down to me. Yeah, not surprised.
After lashing out, I regret it, and as he goes on I kind of shrink away... but I do take the gun, take it and get out of arm's reach. I don't need another guy angry at me today. I wish I'd stayed at Wonky's place... but I couldn't stay right?
Owl? That owl fucking followed me?
"I got here just fine... I coulda left any time I wanted... you know..." I struggle with the slide of the old forty-five, it's a big heavy old gun and Hoho didn't exactly take care of it. "Fuck.... fucking thing..." I finally get it to click and lower it, just holding it across my knees, in no way threatening.
I look up at him, "but no shitting me, ok... why are you here? Is this just some fucking coicidence or what?"
A little flashback.
So that moment when Grab died? That moment when the shotgun ended his life.... I felt myself pulled towards him. Whatever I shifted in his mind, however I did that, it affected me, too. Like... I know it's not the way it but I felt it... when he died...
I cried out, "daddy!" Like... I doubt anyone living noticed. And when I think back on this I won't be sure tht's what happened. But that's what happened.
We've had time. Couple of hours, right? As I said I take a couple of those dvd's. Stick 'em in an old pack or something. Maybe Grab's pack once this asshole is done going through it. But in there there's also a photo of a girl, must be Nollie.
What strikes me about her is that she's so young. Younger than me... I mean, I look younger than I am. My sister got all the height in the family, like dad. I'm a full head shorter than her and I guess I don't eat enough... had a rougher time as a teen, maybe... no not maybe. Certainly.
Fuck... but yeah, Nollie. She has a similar face to mine, really. But she has much shorter hair and really deep brown eyes. I get caught staring at them... yeah I keep that picture in my pocket. I'll keep it forever.
I swallow hard and consider leaving it here... Maybe it's worth something... I stuff it in my pack, and pick up the pace.
Why am I here? Because your stupid fucking bird clued me in that you were in trouble? Because whatever Frontside and his crew had going with you probably wasn't good? Because I should be here? "Mostly coincidence," I offer, turning to look at her over my shoulder, "but partly on instinct. This place is fucking trouble... Didn't seem right to leave you with these fuckers when I figured out what was going on."
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 6, 3. Total: 11)
I settle down, the gun across my lap and Grab's old pack sitting next to me with some of my shit in it. His forty-five, a handful of dvd's and whatever food's left from last night. Hell, I pick up a bar of soap or two from the shower.
And I'm taking those blue goggles of his. Like a trophy almost. They go in the pack, too.
I look around for the earrings he gave me, for some reason I want to keep them. Fuck him, right? But for nollie. I look for a couple minutes around the busted teevee, trying not to look at Hoho... until I notice I'm wearing them. He must have put them on me in my sleep... kind of gives me a chill.
Coincidence... is he really just going to let me go once we're outside? Like he said?
Spending one hold: What does your character intend to do?
"Yeah... yeah ok..." I say quietly, looking at the pistol. I just sit against the wall across from this guy.... guy? And wait. After a time I look up and quietly say, "you know that's... probably Grab's cousin out there. He's not gonna let this slide..."
I just look up and shake my head slightly, thoughful... I almost say something about coming to kill the guy... almost. "Nothing... nothin' really... just kind of ended up here..." but my hand moves to my leg when he asks, like the wound stings when I think about it.
"I'm not in the gang or anything, ok?"
It actually sounds like he's concerned... maybe a little? Not sure I like this person's attention.
I pull my legs up a little closer to my chest, wrapping an arm around my knees to rest my head on that arm, slightly tipped to the side...
I'm screaming inside, at him, at meself, 'yes they fucking hurt me... almost killed me... used me like a fucking piece of meat... and i walked right into it... both times. I fucking got what I deserved cause I'm an idiot!'
But he probably just sees me cringe quietly for a couple seconds, it's suddenly a little harder to talk, "it don't matter any more does it? He..." I swallow nervously, then take a breath, "they ain't gonna bother anyone now."
You hear something rumbling over the road above you. It's coming your way, nice and slow.
When I hear the rumbling, my attention switches gears... Is this an opportunity, or more trouble? I make my way over to the ladder to see if I can get a look around outside.
"What the hell is that?" I say quietly, getting to my feet as he rushes over to the ladder.
Either of you brave enough to push that cover up and have a looksee?
If so, give me an Act Under Fire (most literally).
I'm not about to volunteer, but something suddenly occurs to me. I rummage through my backpack as he seems to be considering opening the cover, "wait!" I call out, almost startling myself, "put these on!"
I toss Grab's distinctive blue goggles over to the ladder. Should make his cousin hesitate, right? Seeing those in the dark opening.
To Ross:
You peek up and evidently Rodeo hesitates for that bit. You see Hadden's little truck. He's in there with Handplant.
You know Handplant, of course. She was friends with your mom. Or wait... is your mom also Silica's? Are you full sisters or half sisters?
I drop the manhole cover down, and replace Grab's goggles with my own. I toss Grab's goggles back down to Silica and whisper, "what the fuck is Hadden doing here with Handplant?"
I take the goggles and above them back in the backpack, looking up at him as he asks.
"Handplant? Are you fucking kidding me?" I walk a couple steps closer. "She might be lookin' for me..."
I'm not really happy about that. Has she been tracking me all day?
I get a little sharp with him, for better or worse I don't think he's going to kill me and my mouth starts going on it's own sometimes, "I didn't tell her shit about coming here, just asked her for some info... fuck! Bitch followed me out here? What the hell, man... that ain't on me!"
I stamp a foot to punctuate the sentence, crossing my arms and complaining to myself, "I had this under control..." a quick glance up at the stranger, "seriously... fuckin'... people shouldn't give a shit." I look away.
I guess people are worried about me, which is aggravating as hell and a comfort at the same time. But it bothers me that people might be gettin' shot today on my account. I didn't ask for any of this.
That truck stops. Nothing happens for a bit, then you hear a bullhorn squeak to life.
Frontside Rodeo's voice crackles out, "Hadden! Hey man, some fucken killer went down there earlier. You best stay back, man. I've got them covered, gonna shoot their fucken eyes out. They killed my cuz,"
Then, whether she tries to stop me or not, I'm climbing up the ladder, and pumping myself up to heft that manhole cover over my head... Hopefully it's thick enough that his rifle can't pierce it. If Hadden's providing a distraction, then I'm taking advantage of it. If I'm really lucky, I'll get to that building before he can get a shot off on me.
Give me an Act Under Fire. This is pretty crazy.
CRAZY LIKE A FOX
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 5, 6. Total: 12)
You push up, taking the manhole with you, carrying it on your head and shoulders. You rush forward as fast as you can, on the ice, carrying that cumbersome thing. And you're pulling it off, shocking Rodeo. He hasn't shot you yet.
Wait, no. Something else. You hear the report of an uzi or something, and feel ticks against the manhole and the damn thing is pressing down on you, and your feet don't want to slip but they don't want to run, either.
Finally, after time stretches out to forever, you make it to the building. Out of their range, right under them. Them? Rodeo must have someone with him.
What do you do?
To Silica:
He just bum rushed up out of there, leaving you alone to count and run. Is that what you do?
I hesitate just long enough that he's gone before I can say anything, but I follow his instructions, I want out of this hole.
The shooting starts, I wait a couple of heartbeats, and then up the ladder and gone.
That truck you heard before comes rolling up again, all on treads and there's... Hadden? Fucking Hadden right above you, looking down.
What do you do?
To Ross:
The first floor is solid ice. It's going to be a hell of a climb. They might have something on the other side of the building, if you want to take the time.
What the? I try and take in the chaos... Shooting, snow... Fuck, if they're offering then I climb up inside.
Let's see if you can Seize the guys By Force. Trying to take their position and give them a fight.
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 4, 3. Total: 10)
OOC: Choosing options...
• Take definite hold of it.
• Suffer little harm.
• Inflict terrible harm.
Head over to Hadden's thread here.
You end up getting to their level in the building after dropping the manhole cover. The Uzi guy sprays you with half a clip (That's 0-Harm after armor and suffer little)
Michalchuck (the spotter) takes a shot in the chest and falls, but Rodeo has packed up his rifle and he's sliding down and out. That's his plan, at least. He's going to live to fight another day if you don't do something.
What do you do?
Have some Harm!
(Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 2, 4. Total: 6)
If you're trying to get him to give up, then roll Go Aggro. If you're hunting him down, roll Seize by Force.
OOC: Seize Rodeo's life by force. Roll+Hard.
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 4, 4. Total: 11)
• Suffer little harm.
• Inflict terrible harm.
• Take definite hold of it.
You're firing slugs, and you manage to blow Rodeo's left foot right the hell off. Blood spatters across the white snow and ice and he falls with a girlish squeal, dropping his flash rifle. He starts crawling now, no guns, just fear and the will to live.
He didn't even get a shot off at you, Ross.
"You should stop, fucker, or I'll start taking off other limbs too." I crack open the sawed-off, and casually replace the two spent shells. Showmanship is important to a lot of men. I aim to please. I put the barrel of my shotty in his face, and crouch down to his level. "Stop fucking squirming, or I might miss... You have any idea why I killed your scumbag cousin?"
Rodeo stops. He's in a world of pain, whimpering through it, in the cold, bitter cold. He rolls over, onto his back, finally facing you. "Whuh... why?" He wants to say more, but his chattering teeth and the shock he's going into won't let him.
What do you do?
My face out in the open, I answer, "'cause he messed with my fucking sister. Nobody messes with my fucking sister — got it?" I let that sink in a second, my face stone cold. When I'm satisfied his little world is broken, I blow his head off. I don't care what he has to say. For himself, or his cousin.
I turned my head away when the bloodspatter hit my cheek... I swallow hard and immediately rise to my feet, frantically wiping the blood from my face. I don't want his fucking blood on my skin. I feel my heart race, and panic starting to set in until it's all off. Every last drop.
I take a moment to compose myself, slip my mask back on, head back for Poptart's... Fucking shit... My whole body is stiff again.
As you're heading off, back to the Scrapers, you get a weird funny feeling. Can't put your finger on why...
But you know Jester is in a world of trouble right now. You think you could find him, but he's nowhere near Poptart, and your stuff, and bed.
What do you do?
My body complains when I take that first step away from Poptart's little hovel, but it'll do what it's fucking told – and right now it's being told to go find that fucking idiot flautist so I can that ass of his out of whatever trouble it's in...
... That sweet, sexy ass...
Please go here.