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[Snowpocalypse] Jester Jester (R 1.8)
To Ross:
You find Jester about six or seven blocks south of the place on 47th where you met up with Molotov. He's at County, a place that was once a hospital before the big freeze. The roof collapsed early on, and snow and sleet filled the halls, then froze solid. Now, folks chip away at the ice to try and get meds. Or drugs. Okay, mostly drugs.
Did Jester tell you about his moms? She's got some kind of rot, and he thought maybe some meds would help, so here he is. Yeah, here is on third floor, trying to cross a chasm of ice to get a barely touched pharmacy. You see him mid-way between to not-terribly-strong support beams, on an extended ladder like some kind of makeshift walking platform. He's edging along, rung by rung, but the far support is giving way, and now, he's too far along to easily move back.
So what's he doing? Edging along, moving on slow and praying to whatever unfrozen deity will listen that he can make it.
Looks like this:
What do you do?
You find Jester about six or seven blocks south of the place on 47th where you met up with Molotov. He's at County, a place that was once a hospital before the big freeze. The roof collapsed early on, and snow and sleet filled the halls, then froze solid. Now, folks chip away at the ice to try and get meds. Or drugs. Okay, mostly drugs.
Did Jester tell you about his moms? She's got some kind of rot, and he thought maybe some meds would help, so here he is. Yeah, here is on third floor, trying to cross a chasm of ice to get a barely touched pharmacy. You see him mid-way between to not-terribly-strong support beams, on an extended ladder like some kind of makeshift walking platform. He's edging along, rung by rung, but the far support is giving way, and now, he's too far along to easily move back.
So what's he doing? Edging along, moving on slow and praying to whatever unfrozen deity will listen that he can make it.
Looks like this:
What do you do?
Comments
Only when I got there I met his mother — who was sickly and tired, but patient and kind with me — and I lost my nerve. She thought I was his girlfriend... She was kind of happy about that. She made me tea... Who makes tea for strange visitors? When he finally showed up, singing, "there you are! I've been looking all over for you!" and, "here's your pack! Everything should be right where you left it." I felt like a total bitch... Especially since he didn't take a single thing from my pack, when he totally could have. Maybe even should have, since there was enough in there to get his mother some decent treatment at the time. I finished my tea, and bolted. I didn't work up the courage to speak to him for a month after that.
All that's neither here nor there now, though — and from the looks of it, he may not survive this act of selfless kindness. I quickly look around the area for anything that might get me up there to him. I can't just let him die up there... Especially not doing something like that for his mom. She needs him.
(Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 6, 2. Total: 8)
To make sure it's clear, he's inside the hospital, in the middle of a ward where ice broke through the floor and ceiling for two stories. You can huff it up some stairs to get to his level, but then you're just looking at his stupid ladder-bridge, and what good is that, right?
You've got a couple options. You could try to blaze a trail through the ice to get on the other side (where he's headed) and pull him through. The problem is that one wrong move might bring down a floor on top of you.
Or, you could grab a fire hose and tie it to you like a lifeline, then scramble your way over to him. If you grab him before the ladder crashes down, then you could swing the pair of you to a much shorter fall. Of course, this means he ends up without meds for his mom.
What do you do?
FUCK!
I ... I know I should go for the fire-line... I know I should... But I can't...
I bolt for the second building — where he's heading — and I guess I'm going to have to find a way up there...
You crunch on the ice and kick down a couple doors to get to the stairs. With each one, the walls shudder a little. But really, you don't have time to fuck around.
Then you're grabbing the railing to climb up the icy and half-blocked concrete stairs, edging over a place where three steps just crushed under the weight of something, and then you're on the third floor.
Give me an Act Under Fire to bust down that door and make it to where Jester is.
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 5, 3. Total: 9)
You step inside the room where Jester was heading, and see that he's almost across, but veiny cracks have formed at the ladder and it is shuddering and shaking as you move into the room. Jester was trying to hustle along, make it across without dying, but now he's just desperate to live.
Are you wearing the mask?
You charge to the edge and grab him by the shoulder and arm right as the ladder falls underneath him. You both slip forward a few inches and his lower half slams into the floor/ceiling. It hurts like a bitch (take 1-Harm AP) to pull him up, and his chest is bleeding in several places, but he's able to climb up your body as you pull.
Then, you're lying there on your belly and he's beside you, on his back, staring up, breathing hard.
What do you do?
(Rolled: 2d6-1. Rolls: 3, 3. Total: 5)
I take a few seconds to compose myself. It fucking hurts to breathe, but I don't think I'm going to die... Not yet, anyway... I roll over, and with more than a little annoyance in my voice I growl, "What in the name of fuck were you thinking?"
After heaving a few more breaths, Jester says, "Thanks... for that. The helping, not so much with the yelling. Although, the turn of phrase "What in the name of fuck"... that's quite, ah, brilliant. If I wrote songs, I'd borrow that for sure." He tries to roll over to face you, then grunts in pain.
"I was trying to get to that cabinet up there." Jester explains. "I'm sure there are enough meds to share. You can get a barter easy. I know somebody who can fix you up."
He lays there, still panting. Then he turns his head to look at you. He gets an off expression, and says lightly, "This might sound totally gay, but your eyes look really pretty." He quirks a nervous smile, adding, "Just saying."
I pace for a second, checking my gear and myself for anything I should be worried about... It looks like I've got everything in one piece, and nothing lost... I adjust my goggles for good measure, then turn back to him and offer him my hand to help him get up. "Fine," I answer, trying not to look at him, "let's just get up there..."
He takes your hand, for support, gets up with a groan of pain. "Why are you here? I just need one medicine. I'm not going to fight you for it. I mean, I owe you my life...?" He looks at you for a moment. "Oh, my name's Jester." He extends a hand.
I make my way over to the cabinet, and gesture him over to help him up. "Just grab what you can. We can sort out details later."
Jester agrees, "Right place for sure." He moves over to a room in the back, this level's small pharmacy. He's bent over a bit, hurting, but moving. He pulls out a pry bar and starts working on the lock on a cabinet door. After a few loud moments of ringing metal, the lock gives way.
The doors open on frozen hinges that Jester has to clear. Inside most of the medicine is frozen together, so he shines a light through the ice until he finds what he's looking for, then pry bar becomes a makeshift ice pick until he gets out his mom's meds.
Once that's done, he pulls out a bunch of plastic grocery bags and starts pulling down what meds he can. He hands you three of them, filled with icy chunks of medicine bottles and other supplies. Do you take it?
What do you do?
Once he's done, I pull my pack off my back and toss the meds in... I pull the drawstring closed, and quietly mumble, "we should part ways... People are looking for me. You have everything you need?"
"I've got all I need, thanks." Jester responds with a grin. You head carefully across the cracking ice on the floor to the concrete stairs, and down. When you hit the ground level once more, he looks you over once more, "Who's looking for a Good Samaritan like you? They, uh, wanna give you a reward?" He's joking, he doesn't believe it, but he seems curious about you.
What do you do?
"Pretend I never saw the person who saved my can?" Jester asks with a grin. "If I wrote songs, which I don't, I'd write one about you... mysterious stranger." He slips a harmonica out of his pocket, hands it to you, "But since I don't... why don't you take this?"
What do you do?
This is going to be problematic... I need to get him to back off, but shoving a gun in his face probably wouldn't do any good — fucking happy go lucky musician. I look over to him and squint hard. "Seriously, Jester — I don't like people thinking I can just be reached whenever they want. I move around a lot. I piss people off. It's best you keep things vague about me, if you know what's best for you." It's bad enough you almost got yourself killed, you stupid idiot... You could have told me you were looking for meds last night.
(Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 1, 1. Total: 2)
Jester is listening to your warning, and he seems to get it. "Alright, stranger. Just between you, me and my moms. She has to know..." Jester pushes open the door to the outside.
"Has to know wut?" You hear as you see Steak Tar Tar just outside. He's not wearing a shirt, just the paint he and the C's love so much. Here he is:
He's got three other C's with him. They're all armed with ice picks and Mac-10s. Patagonia, Revert and Feeble.
Steak says with a slur, "Don't shit yaselves. It's a shakedown, yeah? Gimmie da pills and ya get ta walk away."
You know Jester won't fight, but he's sure as hell not giving up the meds.
What do you do?
Give me a Go Aggro on this to see what Pat, Reve and Feeble do. Because... dayum.
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 5, 2. Total: 10)
They back off. Hell, Pat takes off at a run, his orange and dark blue ass beats feet.
When its clear they're gone, Jester says, "I guess you pissed them off, stranger." He chuckles, then pats your shoulder in a friendly way. He pulls back the harmonica he'd offered and you didn't accept, and as he's walking away, he plays this:
I try not to wince as Jester pats my shoulder — does a sharp inhale and eye-twitch count as a wince? ... Wait... Nevermind. I swallow hard when Jester pats me, and nod through the pain. "Yeah. Awesome." Knowing my luck he'd have just found the Harmonica on me anyway... He's a good musician at least, for a guy that just risked his fucking life for medicine only to get held up at gunpoint.
I need medical attention, and I don't trust this guy to get where he's going without "parental supervision"... I take a few steps forward, and shake my head... Disappointed in myself... "Jester," I call, making my way over to him, "you mentioned a doc you trusted? Where at?"
Jester stops playing his harmonica. "Yeah. Poke. He isn't close. He's in a hold up at the Pier. I'm in good with the Sk8ers, they have a sled they use on the lake. We can get there in an hour, if you can move." He peers at you, "You wanna go?"
Jester puts the harmonica back to his lips and continues to play. As far as you can tell, he'll play the whole trip. It's a three mile walk to the Shedd. How dangerous is it from here to there?
The winds coming off the frozen drifts of the lake are wicked cold, and if not for the fact that the buildings have built up a bit of a mound to break them, I'd say the place is a write off. Only Icers go there after a storm... The blowing snow is mad. There are entire rows of houses buried under the snow up north. I don't go there very often.
You're sort of serenaded by Jester as you two make your way through the blowing sleet towards Shedd. It's bitter cold, mostly because the sleet gets through layers that snow wouldn't pierce.
Jester leads you around the back of the place, "We're going to the physical plant. That's where they keep the sleds."
You recognize four snowmobiles, flash looking rigs, parked outside, Ross. At least some of the Skegs are here.
What do you do?
Hell, I'm not even sure how I'm going to keep my identity safe from Jester... Shit... "Poke's in there?"
"Nope. Sleds. Seds in Shedd. I should've taught you the rhyme. This time. Heh." Jester's walking backwards, looking back at you. "We take the sled north to the Pier hold. Poke's there.... problem?"
I shake my head, "lead the way."
Jester stops walking backwards until you catch up. "Stranger... you sure you're okay? The Sk8ers might have some booze or maybe even some pain killers if you've got shit to trade." He looks worried. About you, you realize. You must seem hurt, or he's picking it up.
Jester leads you around the side of the museum to the huge physical plant. "The Skegs are prolly dumpster divin back here, too. They like me, don't worry, Stranger." You see a few buildings a couple-three stories high behind the aquarium. Jester leads you straight towards them.
Jester says, "Heck, they might even be cheaper than the sled. You got a preference?"
I bite my lip, and look down to my pack... I don't really need a sled anyway... I sigh, and grunt from the pain, "let's just get there, OK?"
You trudge up a snow drift that is high enough to let you climb into a second story window. The window is broken out, this building is as cold in as out. The railing on the catwalk Jester climbs onto is frozen solid.
When you climb in, the movement strains your gut, and hurts like hell. You're probably bleeding. It feels like you're bleeding, at least. Jester's asking if you're okay when you hear some female voice call out, echoing through the big plant open space, "Yo! That you, Jest?" It's Dubstep.
Do you know her? You do as Rossi, right? When she made a pass at you, I'm sure she did, how did that go?
What do you do?
I groan when I hear Dubstep in the distance, and straighten up into that "masculine" posture I use to scare people off. Dubstep knows me without my mask — I didn't give her my name or anything though, as I rarely give out my name to people — and she's the biggest lesbian in the history of lesbians... That's great and all, don't get me wrong, but I'm so not interested in women. It's bad enough I've got my own vagina to deal with — I don't want another one hanging around.
I step back a bit, looking as menacing as I can, and look around to see who else is here.
Nobody else is in this part of the building other than you, Jester and Dubstep. Dubstep comes up towards you both, eyeing you more than Jester. She asks, "Who's your friend, Jest?"
"This here is Samaritan, my buddy." Jester answers with a wink to you. "You got any meds on you? Maybe some anti-inflams?"
I look over to Dubstep through my silvered goggles, and nod. "More importantly," I add, "we need a ride to the Pier. Who do we talk to about that?"
Dubstep, "Most of the Skegs are onna run, but we can rap with Dice, see if he'll peel off a couple rides for you. Got any barter, for gas and shit?"
Jester pulls out his harmonica, "Here you go, Dubby. Gently used."
Jester's eyes widen in surprise when you take hold of him, but it isn't like he's going to fight you off. Dubstep says, "Sure, Samaritan, sounds mag."
She turns on a heel, starts heading back from whence she came, "C'mon, you two. Dice-man is back this-a-way."
Please head here.