[Snowpocalypse] Shrimp Job (R 3.1)

Rich

To Rossi:

You hung out in the hovels of Crossover for a week healing up and staying out of trouble. You and Jester took turns taking care of each other, and sex was a different matter since this time you were hurting. Jester was hesitant to hurt you or cause you any pain. Did you push for anything physical or just relax and recoup?

Let's see how life's been the past week or so, Rossi! Roll + Sharp. On a hit, choose options. On a 7-9, choose two to be true. On a 10+, choose three.

* The Currnel, of the Soulja Boys, comes through Crossover a few times with some of her souljas, chat with either or both of you about the gennie, but they haven't caused any trouble (as opposed to Soulja Boys causing trouble, hassling you and others nearby)
* Jester was able to sing for your suppers and made enough to pay for food and lodging and earned a jingle (you detail)
* You spotted something odd about Jester's foot. You should probably get him to a doctor soon (as opposed to NOT noticing this).

You realize Stink Bug is waiting for your help with Palmer, so let's pick up with you getting ready to roll out up north. What have you told Jester? Is he staying or coming with you?

Adam

OOC: Open session move. Roll+Sharp. +1XP.
(Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 1, 5. Total: 6)

Rich

To Rossi:

Curnel and hers came by last night, gave you some trouble, but you didn't fight her. Was it Jester, or something else? What did she break of your combined stuff?

Jester's amputation has been giving him trouble lately, maybe it's the dampness around here. He wasn't able to get out and play this week, which has been frustrating for him. This morning Jester woke up with more puss than the day before, and the area around the wound felt really warm. He's got a fever, too. He's scared, but trying to be tough, "Rossi, I'll go see Poke, she doesn't hate me. You should head up to Palmer's, like you said." Do you let him go?

What do you do?

Adam

I've got too much shit to deal with. I've got no jingle, no place to call my own, a man who's getting sicker by the day, a sister who I have to keep an ear to the ground for, a job for a gang-leader I've been avoiding, a broken door to pay for from that bitch Curnel, a desire to fucking shoot every skeg I come across, a friend who believes his all-powerful uncle is out to kill him – the same uncle who hired Molotov and me to blow up the fucking tunnels for some stupid reason, and rumors that Molotov-fucking-Kalishnikov blew up Grease Park to keep the Soulja boys out... Add that to the fact that I haven't gotten laid since we got this fucking place, and you've got a pissed off Rossi.

No, seriously – I'm fucking pissed, and I'd bet my fucking meal today that Poke is going to turn Jester away. I need to bring him in, and find some fucking work... Who the fuck is going to hire me for anything other than fucking stripping? If I didn't hate the fucking Cs so much, I'd go find their fucking generator. I'm tempted to do that just for the reward...

"The fuck I'm just going to let you walk in there, unattended... I'll go to Palmer's once Poke agrees to see you."

Rich

To Rossi:

Jester frowns. "Rossi, serious. She expects you to hand over... well, your own head to her. She won't do shit for you. I'll be okay." He looks at you for a bit, then adds, "But you could drive me to the Pier."

Adam

Oh yeah, I still have no idea how the fuck I'm going to do that either... "Jester, she said while you were out she didn't even want to treat you because of what happened to her brother — if not for the fact that I made her treat you, you'd still be in need of stitches. If she asks questions, I'll just tell her I've got a lead on him. You're getting sick Jester — I need to make sure she's going to treat you."

Rich

To Rossi:

Jester shakes his head, "Rossi. That's not cool..."

Let's see if you can Manipulate Jester into going along with this, even though he thinks it puts you in danger for him. Or, you can Read Him. Your choice.

Adam

OOC: I think I'll hold off for just a second.

I shoot Jester a confused look, "what's not cool? That I made her treat you when she refused? For something you had nothing to do with? Or that I want to make sure you get looked after? If there was another doctor in this shithole, you know I'd bring you to them."

Rich

To Rossi:

He holds his breath for a second before exhaling. "No. no. You did right by me. It's just. Not cool that you're going into the Pier for me. Again. You know they're not going to make it easy. And we're broke. What do we pay them with?"

He wipes some sweat from his brown, looks away, "I wanted to be your partner... now I'm just a burden."

Adam

I hang my head, disappointed that he's calling himself a burden... Poptart would eat that shit up. "Jester," I answer softly, "you're getting sick — if I was sick, would you let me waltz into the pier alone?"

Rich

To Rossi:

"Fuck no," he answers glumly. "I'm in love with you." He doesn't meet your eyes. He didn't say it to hear it back. But it's the only answer he can give.

Adam

I can feel my face turn bright red when he comes back with that — I'm not angry, so much as fucking embarrassed... I bite at my lip a little nervously, and consider how he's said that a couple times now. I know he isn't expecting an answer, but I can't keep dodging the topic like this... I just don't want that word to mean nothing, you know? Jester's so sweet — he deserves to know how I feel about him — but I can't bring myself to say it out loud yet... I just don't want him to fucking die on me before I get the chance to do it.

"Well," I answer back, my mouth a little dry, "do you see why I might want to go there with you then?"

Rich

To Rossi,

He chews on the inside of his cheek for a second, like he's savoring the taste of your words, your hinted meaning.

You realize he probably just tricked you into saying that, because a grin spreads on his face when he turns back to look at you. "Because you're in looooove with meeeee.... hahahah, I made you almost say it, Miss Badass." He pushes your shoulder playfully, then starts getting ready to go.

"Okay, let's do this." He gets his crutches and starts trying to get up.

Adam

Bastard.

I scowl coyly at him, and push him back — gently, because his balance is for shit right now — and help him up. "C'mon. Let's get this over with."

Rich

To Rossi:

You're right, he's putting on a good show, but everything hurts. He breaks a sweat just crutching his way out of your little hovel. You head up to the car, which is covered by snow and ice, of course.

-----------------

The Pier is ratcheted down, Rossi. You get that feeling just driving nearby. Did you drop Jester off near the front or park and walk with him?

You stand in a slow line for too long in the bitter cold. Jester starts shivering. He tries to hide it, but he can't even sing, his teeth are chattering.

Finally, it's your turn to board the platform that is raising up to the second story of the huge brick gates. At the top is Gnu. He looks you and Jester over. He pats down Jester, has one of his men, a grungy guy named Lipslide take care of you.

He licks his chapped lips as he comes close, "No weapons on the Pier, missy. Turn em over. And I think Ima gonna need to search you, too."

What do you do?

Adam

I left the car a few blocks away, and stowed my shit in a building on the way — like I said — the only weapon I have on me is Dice's axe, which I hand over. It's good to keep up appearances. I narrow my eyes when he says he has to search me, "Jester here's got a fucking infection or something — can you do him first, and help him get out to the Doc's?"

Rich

To Rossi:

Lipslide takes the axe, carries it over to a box, writes something on some paper and puts them in the box together. Then he comes back, staring at you like you're a piece of meat. "Oh, don't you worry, Missy. Gnu'll take care of your pussy little boyfriend." Lipslide says with a sneer. "Now don't make no trouble, or I'll hafta take you into a room and check you out REAL thorough."

Lipslide looks like he's not going to hurt you, but he's aiming to cop a feel. Mostly to exert power over you, Rossi.

Jester sees this, he's looking at Gnu, says, "Hey man! What the ever-loving fuck?"

Gnu grabs Jester's shirt and jacket, "Shaddup, asshole. You want to take the long drop?"

"This isn't cool, man!" Jester replies, weary and frustrated. He looks at you, expecting the worst, apologizing with his eyes.

What do you do?

Adam

I shoot Jester a stoic glance, and slowly shake my head. Most guys are fucking perverts. I'm used to this. What they don't know is I'm more than happy to break Lipslide's arm if he steps over a line that I — admittedly arbitrarily — assign. I look over to Lipslide and grumble, "if you're gunna grope me, just fucking do it and get Jester to the doc, will you?"

Rich

To Rossi:

Lipslide wastes no time, groping you while "looking" for weapons. He grabs your tits, gropes your crotch for good measure. Then, like you're cattle, he shoves you towards Jester and Gnu after a minute. "She's clean... well, she aint gotta weapon."

Looks like Gnu is finishing up, Jester is watching, a mix of horror and anger on his face.

What do you so?

Adam

I don't waste time. He barely has time to shove me before I'm hurriedly walking over to Jester. I toss Jester's arm over my shoulder, and make a b-line right for the clinic. On the way there, I try not to look at him for too long... I don't want to call attention to what happened back there. For good measure, though, so he knows I'm still with him, "This is exactly why I started dressing up as Ross... People presume I'm either only good for sex, or that I can't fucking take care of myself." I break the stoic determination bringing us to the clinic to look over at him, "if not for the fact that you need some doctoring ASAP, I'd have broken that fucker's arm..."

Rich

To Rossi:

Jester grunts a bit as you both move quickly to Poke's. "Hey, maybe on the way out... you can break his arm or somethin. Fucker. Not cool." He grits his teeth and presses on.

You pass by six different men wearing the colors of the Pier Guard, all eye you and Jester, but nobody steps to you. When you enter the building with the clinic, you pass by a wall with pictures of several people. Headshots. Wanted folks. There's a shitty drawing of you (Ross you, just a "dude" in scarves and shit) on there. Plus, believe it or not, a picture of Silica.

What do you do?

Adam

I shake my head, "I wish more men think like you do Jester — but let's not piss anyone off... Let Ross handle the bloodshed." Look at me... Talking about the fucking mask like he's a person... What the fuck...

Speaking of what the fuck... I stop a second to look at the wanted list on the wall, and spot Silica's "picture"... My jaw all but drops, and I'm tempted to take it down. I think better of it, though. Fucking hell... What happened now? I bring Jester into the clinic proper and wait to get him some service.

Rich

To Rossi:

The caption under her pic, not that everyone can read it, but you can, says:
WANTED - GUARD MURDER

Poke's clinic is guarded now, two big guys with beat sticks and padded armor. There's no line. That's new, usually there's a big line, which moves slow. You walk towards the space in between the guards, and the red-headed one with a bit of a gut, he says, "What're you here for? His gammy foot?"

Jester answers, "Yeah, man. I'm Jester. I need to see Poke. Please."

The red head holds up a finger to have you wait, then he steps inside. The dark-skinned guard with a scraggly wanna-be beard looks at you for a moment. It's Wandering. You haven't seem him since... how long? "Rosie?" he asks curiously. Because Silica called you that and he thinks it sounds nice.

What do you do?

Adam

Son of a bitch... Can't life just fucking quiet down for a bit?

I walk up to the guards, not really paying much attention to them until I hear Wandering's voice calling me Rosie — at first I look up to him like someone just called me "bitch", but my eyebrows raise in surprise when I see who it really is. "Wandering? Shit man... I thought you fucking went south back in the day..." That must have been three or four years ago now — and I mean south of where I grew up, not south of here. "I'm not Rosie anymore, Wandering... That was just Silica's stupid nickname."

She couldn't pronounce my real name when she was young, so she mispronounced the name on my skis... Then people started calling me Rossignol, and it stuck. I prefer it over Rosie. I look into the clinic to see if Poke's in, "what the fuck are you doing here? Is Poke in?"

Rich

To Rossi:

Wandering gives an apologetic look, like he didn't mean anything by it with the Rosie thing, and gives a tight grin when you ask about him heading south. "I did go south. Same shit there as here. Rossi. Rossi.... hrm," He's sort of trying the name out.

Then Wandering's eyes widen when he looks at your partner, "Jester? Shit man, good to see you!" He pulls Jester into a handshake.

Jester, for his part, plays along. When there's a moment, he asks, "Hey Wandering. You look good."

Wandering says, "Me? Shit man, Rossi's fucking pretty. I mean, sorry, Rossi, you were cute before, but damn... you filled out."

Jester chuckles, "She's pretty badass, Wandering. Better keep those eyes to yourself, she might fuck you up."

Wandering holds up a hand in mocking defense, "Sure, brother, whatever." He chuckles once, but it dies quick, and he settles. He glances back inside, then over to you both. "We're here to keep things in line. Poke's been effed since she lost her brother. Or whatever the fuck he was. So we shuffle patients in and out, and keep her working."

"C'mon in!" you hear the red-head call. Wandering motions with a nod for you to go in.

Adam

See? All men are perverts. Jester's a loose exception that proves the rule. I don't know whether to be flattered that Jester's getting possessive over me, or worried that he thinks I might snap and hurt Wandering... I've been fucking trying lately! I've been good! At least Wandering didn't fucking grope me in front of the whole guard. I wonder if those pigs did something like that to Silica, and she showed 'em what's what.

... Good on her, if she did...

Anyway I nod cautiously back to Wandering and head on in, to the doc's place.

Rich

You pass the red headed guard and head in to see Poke.

Jester crutches into the same room where she fixed up his foot before and sits heavily. His wound is oozing puss and blood, and it is burning up. It's bad, Rossi, you know this.

After a few minutes of waiting, Poke comes out from behind a curtain. It looked like she was in a room with a patient maybe, you see someone lying in a bed in the room before she closes the curtain.

Poke is a wreck. There are dark circles under her eyes, she looks, well, slack. Her shoulders are slumped, she walks heavy. When she comes closer, you can smell hard liquor, not from her breath as much as from her fucking pores.

She comes closer, looking at Jester, ignoring you. Then, she recognizes him, looks up at you. She narrows her eyes, and slurs, "You." She points at you, "Where's my fucken head?"

Adam

Holy shit...

I stare over at Poke in disbelief when she asks where her head is – I'm temped to say on her shoulders, but it's pretty plainly up her ass right now. "Girl," I answer, a little disgusted at the sight, "you've been fucking drinking. What the hell are you doing doctoring?"

Rich

To Rossi:

Poke makes a pfft noise, like that's a joke you just told her. And she hates it. "You... fucken think I can stop now?" She stands there for a moment, then reaches a hand up to rub the side of her face. "Welcome to the Hotel Cally fornya. I can't never fucken leave."

Jester looks worried. Not for himself, for Poke. She sees his foot, eyes narrow, then widen slightly like she's adjusting to see it. She looks around for her short rolling stool, the kind you've seen at broken down garages. Poke staggers over to get it, its down and wheels herself over to Jester. "You wanna do the honors and cut off the rotten bandages?" She looks up at you, pulling a pair of scissors out of her dingy lab coat.

Adam

I take the scissors and start cutting, trying to avoid looking at the blood and puss soaked cloth. Fuck... I don't wanna distract her or anything, but it's the only thing I can do to keep my mind off of Jester's infected foot. "You want out of this place? The fucking Pier not letting you go or something?"

Rich

To Rossi:

"I want out." She says it sullenly as she peers over your work without any bother. "I just want to sleep. They didn't let me burn him. I didn't want them to take him... but they did. Fuck them. They can go to Hell."

The bandages are off, and Jester's foot is red and swollen. Like, the foot got bigger when you pulled off the bandages, and the yellowish pus stuck to the bandage. It hurt when you peeled it off, he took in several shake breaths and ended up clamping his mouth shut. For a mouthy guy, Jester does a decent job of keeping his shit through pain. You notice red lines running up his foot, to his ankle, and the skin was pretty warm.

Poke looks at the wound for a bit, not asking any questions. She slurs, "It's infected. Don't know if it's hit the bone, but doesn't look like it." She looks up at both of you. "We oughta knock him out to finish this up and get a better look."

Jester looks worried, but he's keeping his mouth shut. He trusts what medical knowledge you have.

What do you do?

Adam

Even I admit that's pretty fucked up... I mean, I know they aren't letting her go because she's too "valuable" to them — it's less a blessing than it is a curse. I'm tempted to offer her freedom. The freedom to drink herself to death, or refuse whatever fucking clients she wants, or whatever the fuck...

I throw my head back and bite down on the inside of my pursed lips when Poke announces Jester's foot is infected. So we're back to square one... Great. If we can't beat this back, he could lose the fucking foot — and that just means we run the risk of him getting an infection in his lower leg... See where this is going? I don't want that for Jester.

I look around for the chloroform again, and help her put him out again. I give Jester a kiss on the forehead just before he slips under, just in case. She'd better fix him right this time... "Who's them?" I ask once Jester's out, "the ones who took your brother."

Rich

To Rossi:

"Doesn't matter," Poke says with an angry wave of her hand. "He's gone. I'm here. Woe is me. What the fuck ever. Build a bridge and all that shit."

She spends some time looking over the wound. Tells you to get her some water, and she cleans it gently, with practiced motions, falling into her craft. She trims away infected flesh and looks at the remaining parts of his foot.

"I don't have enough meds left to stop the infection from spreading," she says finally. "I'll need to take the foot off."

Adam

I go pale.

"The foot..." I answer hoarsely, "the hell you fucking do. You're a doctor and you don't have some fucking penicillin or something? You don't have fucking antibiotics to save what he does have, so you want to risk a fucking amputation? If this amputation doesn't fucking take, what's next? His fucking leg?"

Rich

To Rossi:

Poke looks right at you, no fire in her eyes, but no fear or shame, either. "Yep. That's next."

Adam

OOC: Reading Poke. Roll+Sharp. +1XP.
(Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 1, 1. Total: 2)

Rich

To Rossi:

Poke continues when you glare at her, like she's getting a little pissed, "You know... before I was cut in fucking half, maybe there'd be more I'd have done. But now, it's the foot or it spreads. And even after the foot, there's still a good chance it'll be more. You want better results, then find another doctor. Because I'm not equipped for this shit!" She gestures at the curtains, the booth, the dried bloodstains on the floor.

It's not a problem of confidence, Rossi. You can't talk her into this. You'll have to find another option.

She scoots back in her stool, away from Jester, "Listen... if you wanna take him. Find somebody else. Get a second fucking opinion? Be my guest. He's got a day, maybe two, before it hits the bone, and his blood. Then... he's fucked."

Adam

Well... I only know one other doctor, and I swore to myself I'd never go back to him. I fucking swore it when I left that place with nothing but my skis, my grandpa's gun, and the clothes on my back. When I left, I was convinced there was nothing that would get me back there.

This will.

I will be fucking damned if I'm going to sit here and let some drunk chick lazily hack off Jester's foot because she couldn't be damned to learn her fucking part in case her idiot brother went and got himself fucking shot. If not for that fucking car, this wouldn't even be crossing my mind... Fucking hell... This can not be happening. Jester is going to fucking survive this, or I am going to burn this fucking Pier to the ground.

"Wandering," I call out, my voice cracking with fear, "I've got an axe at the gate that's yours if you help me get Jester back to my car."

Rich

--END SCENE--