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[NU] Medical Supplies [All 2.0]
It's been a few weeks since the hostilities, but Clarity has finally recovered from his wounds enough to get around. The late-spring sun is a welcome warm contrast to the cool breeze running through the trees, and the grass sprouting through the cracks in the concrete. Summer is just around the corner, but you still need to bundle up.
It took some doing, but you've finally found a small mall in the edge of the ruins that wasn't completely run down. You found it because you saw a lone car whose tires had damn near melted to the pavement on the turn into the parking lot. The sunlight hits the car wrong, and looking at it puts you all on edge — but the mall is far enough away from it that you don't need to go near it if you don't want to.
The mall itself was still standing relatively strongly — the signs and partitions of each store only caked with mud and mold from years of neglect. Don't get me wrong, the place is dark, dank, and smells of moldy clothes and rotting food — that would be the holes in the ceiling raining sludgy rain down on the clothing stores, and some old cans exploding, and rotting in the sun. It looks like this place has been stirred recently, and regularly, as small scavenge groups come in to take what they can hold. Pickings here aren't exactly plentiful, but there are some things worth taking.
Cinch, The parking lot was basically empty and overgrown. Driving around the old ruins looking for a decent place to scavenge took a considerable amount of gas — the needle of your gas gauge didn't hesitate to remind you of that. Did you park your car and come in with everybody, or are you outside with your Jeep?
Robinson, there was an old electronics store here that's been picked clean over the years... It's funny how most of the luxury items went first — shelves where games and stereos once stood are now rusted out and dustier than the shelves once holding rows and rows of resistors, fans, and other electronic components. Once times got tough, though, they got their share of attention too. Still, buried under the mess of damp ceiling tiles you managed to find one of the things you were looking for... What was it?
Clarity, you found a small pharmacy tucked away in a wing of the mall near the food court. You passed a mattress buried in a small nook in the back of the drug store. It looks like someone uses it as a home when it rains. They aren't here now, but you don't imagine they've gone far. Sadly, most of the first aid/medical equipment you've seen that Bish asked for has been torn off the shelf... What little is left of it is sitting in a suitcase buried under some rubble in that little nook. Someone is obviously laying claim...
Rue, Given the recent hostilities with Hugo's crew, it's understandable why you'd come along on this outing... Scaving is always dangerous in the ruins, and you're the foremost expert on matters of security. Did you go inside the mall with everyone? Or are you busy keeping a perimeter? I will mention that across the parking lot you spotted a sporting goods store "Cabelas" that has seen a lot more love than this mall has... You would know they stock bullets and guns. Whether or not they've been stripped dry is yet to be seen, but it has been barricaded and reinforced over the years... It looks like someone tried to make a go of living there.
Thirds, I'll admit, I'm curious... After the night with Rue in the RV, did you part ways or head back to Monroe with her? Either way, you find yourself here with the scav group, looking for various supplies they need for Monroe. You found a ladder up onto the roof of the Mall out behind some dumpsters that have been carefully placed to conceal it...
What do you do?
Some images for the setting...
The main hall:
The little nook Clarity found:
The exterior:
It took some doing, but you've finally found a small mall in the edge of the ruins that wasn't completely run down. You found it because you saw a lone car whose tires had damn near melted to the pavement on the turn into the parking lot. The sunlight hits the car wrong, and looking at it puts you all on edge — but the mall is far enough away from it that you don't need to go near it if you don't want to.
The mall itself was still standing relatively strongly — the signs and partitions of each store only caked with mud and mold from years of neglect. Don't get me wrong, the place is dark, dank, and smells of moldy clothes and rotting food — that would be the holes in the ceiling raining sludgy rain down on the clothing stores, and some old cans exploding, and rotting in the sun. It looks like this place has been stirred recently, and regularly, as small scavenge groups come in to take what they can hold. Pickings here aren't exactly plentiful, but there are some things worth taking.
Cinch, The parking lot was basically empty and overgrown. Driving around the old ruins looking for a decent place to scavenge took a considerable amount of gas — the needle of your gas gauge didn't hesitate to remind you of that. Did you park your car and come in with everybody, or are you outside with your Jeep?
Robinson, there was an old electronics store here that's been picked clean over the years... It's funny how most of the luxury items went first — shelves where games and stereos once stood are now rusted out and dustier than the shelves once holding rows and rows of resistors, fans, and other electronic components. Once times got tough, though, they got their share of attention too. Still, buried under the mess of damp ceiling tiles you managed to find one of the things you were looking for... What was it?
Clarity, you found a small pharmacy tucked away in a wing of the mall near the food court. You passed a mattress buried in a small nook in the back of the drug store. It looks like someone uses it as a home when it rains. They aren't here now, but you don't imagine they've gone far. Sadly, most of the first aid/medical equipment you've seen that Bish asked for has been torn off the shelf... What little is left of it is sitting in a suitcase buried under some rubble in that little nook. Someone is obviously laying claim...
Rue, Given the recent hostilities with Hugo's crew, it's understandable why you'd come along on this outing... Scaving is always dangerous in the ruins, and you're the foremost expert on matters of security. Did you go inside the mall with everyone? Or are you busy keeping a perimeter? I will mention that across the parking lot you spotted a sporting goods store "Cabelas" that has seen a lot more love than this mall has... You would know they stock bullets and guns. Whether or not they've been stripped dry is yet to be seen, but it has been barricaded and reinforced over the years... It looks like someone tried to make a go of living there.
Thirds, I'll admit, I'm curious... After the night with Rue in the RV, did you part ways or head back to Monroe with her? Either way, you find yourself here with the scav group, looking for various supplies they need for Monroe. You found a ladder up onto the roof of the Mall out behind some dumpsters that have been carefully placed to conceal it...
What do you do?
Some images for the setting...
The main hall:
The little nook Clarity found:
The exterior:
Comments
"Cinch, I'm headin o'er to Belas" I tell 'er afore I make the walk. She can head in 'ere er folla me, I don't mind. O' course, her sunny ass'll chat me up, an hell if I know why it might make me grin, but I aint askin her to come with.
I figger the rest can give a holler if they need me. Clare tole me it's called Cabelas, can't make out the sign. Ima walkin' up, keepin' eyes peeled, watchin' fer trouble.
Readin' the Sitch as I walk up:
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 4, 4. Total: 9)
(+1 XP)
What should I be onna lookout fer?
Hey Cinch... any help?
When we're in the city or somewhere sketchy, I like to shadow the group, ride slow about a block away. Where i can be there for them at a moment's notice, be another pair of eyes... even draw fire. (The Jeep is louder than even Rue on a bad day, right?)
But here... wide open and the needle's telling me to take to foot.
So I'm gonna make one circuit of the place, get some eyes on that creepy car (not too close) and then park somewhere out of sight, up behind the old garbage dumpsters, lock up tight, flip my kill switches.
But yeah, Rue hops out and makes for the place... sure. I'll keep slowly rolling until she's got boots on tile.
"Yeah you bet! I got eyes on the corners, Rue. Do your thing."
Help? Hell yeah!
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 3, 1. Total: 5)
Rue, that sports store is famous for its hunting equipment. Rifles. Scopes. Snipers. You should be on the lookout for ...
POW!
Cinch, your Jeep has a brand new hole in the hood, and you hear the slug ricocheting around under the hood. It doesn't really cause you any trouble, though. That's a high-powered rifle though, and the next shot will do some serious damage.
All, you probably heard that hunting rifle going off outside, muffled as it probably is.
What do you do?
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 2, 4. Total: 7)
No stranger to being shot at, but that was an ugly sound. A nasty metal sound and... did they just punch a hole in my hood? Serious?
A quick breath, one hand tight on the wheel I give it some speed and swerve left, right hand on the shift... and back. I don't think of returning fire, not yet... I have the upper hand... just need to get out of sight for a second.... I head for the next corner, past the drug store. They gotta be front, right? Shot to my hood... keeping eyes open for anything.
I don't think about it, but I'm smiling.
Rue out of sight? I think she made it inside... ok. Who's still with me? Anyone?
Is there cover 'tween here an there? If so, I'll jump down an take it. If there aint, well, I'll drop prone an sight down Shelly onna roofs fer whoever the hell's got so many bullets they can waste 'em.
Robinson actually came along on this one as security. Not armed security, but as a guide. There was a little trickiness to the navigation required to get out here: some strange hotspots that had been marked on one of Robinson's wall maps, tentative and vague notes but worrisome nonetheless and best confronted with the help of someone who knows anomalies, insofar as anomalies can be known at all. Cinch evaded them ably, with a little direction.
At the mall he visited the electronics shop on a whim, hoping against hope to find something of value. He and Thirds had effected several attempts at tracking down a power source, all to no avail. This place looked cleaned-out too, but after he turned over some crumbling acoustic tile he found a number of electronic devices tossed in a pile. Most of them were gutted, waterlogged. And, miraculously, one dry handheld, bearing the scars of several failed attempts at cracking it open. A few seconds of moderate puzzling Robinson had the device disassembled, and was holding its power source in his hand. Perfect.
He left the electronics shop, waded down to the end of the waterlogged corridor to the atrium where the main level drained into the flooded lower-level food court where fish hid in the roots of the thick vegetation in shady margins, basked in the sun coming in through the broken skylight, snapped at the flies that ventured too close to the water's surface. He stood at the edge of the atrium, gazing down at the fish, listening to Clarity nearby in the pharmacy. At length Robinson headed to the exit, picking his way carefully through the debris, and stepped outside into the shade of the main entrance.
That's about the time a gunshot rings out. What was that? Not Rue or Cinch- but something outside. Moving with intent, Robinson presses himself up against one of the big concrete columns outside the mall doors, glides his hand up to the holster across his chest where his pistol sits. It'll be near useless in such a big open space as the mall parking lot. He looks down at the grip of his pistol, frowns at it. He left his bolt-action in the Jeep, around the way, where Cinch secured it.
No sense moving when he doesn't know where the shooter is. Robinson stays still, quietly listening.
OOC: question. what should I be on the lookout for?
Will respond to the gunshot after the answer... crossposted because I was slow.
Rue, You hear a bullet likely intended for Cinch hit the brick wall behind you. These guys mean business. I'm sure there's a dumpster or something nearby... Give me an AUF to get to cover.
Robinson, you definitely heard that second bullet dig into the stone of the mall. Cinch is on the move, and Rue is diving into action. If you're trying to get a read on the situation though, go to dice.
Clarity, the suitcase has a fair amount of things that would polish off a good portion of your list — clean gauze, rubbing alcohol, Aspirin — it's not all of it, but it's a good chunk. If you don't want to take that suitcase, you need to keep an eye out for decent alternatives. You know from some of the books you've rescued that some grocery stores had pharmacies built right in. It's possible this Kroger does too — if it hasn't been picked clean. Thankfully, the stench has likely kept people away. The sacrifices we make... Of course, then there's the gunfire.
AUF (usin' Hard per Battle-Hardened):
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 1, 5. Total: 9)
EDIT: I fergot the +1 from readin the sitch, so that's a 10.
I head fer that dumpster, the big ole green one, aint too far. I can make it. Once I'm there, I'll try and figger out where they're hidin and pop offa shot.
The plan is ta pop an move. Can't sit still in a firefight. So I'm firin', hiding, an then movin forward. I'm gettin in there.
I walked back with Rue. Not that far, and easier in the light. I slept like crap that night. Barely slept. I wanted to climb in her bunk. Wanted to sleep on the roof. See? We didn't do anything and it's weird. I don't know how she can be.
All that is running in my head as I dig quick through the dumpsters. They threw away all kinds of good stuff in the beforetimes. Plastic containers always useful. Enough grocery sacks for plarn to make satchels or blankets. Always take 'em. Just knitting to do. Cans, both empty and full. Electrics and electronics, working and broken. Wood, rotten. Pipes, metal. Plastic garbage bags, swollen and bloated with rot. Holy fuck does it stink. And of course, there's an empty can of peaches in here. I stare a mite too long at the label.
Gunshot.
I'm up in a flash, eyes on roofs on edges eyes on the team on Cinch and on Rue and on Clarity and on Robinson and I see their hands and heads and bodies are intact and they are upright and I crouch and leaping out one-handed to cover to keep the Dumpster between me and the sound so I can still see the car and a hole in the hood and momentum and shotgun's terrible for range and where's Rue shooting and flag down Cinch to get the car to cover by me.
Gunshot.
Shootin' breaks out all round. Rue keeping heads down, I'm turning a quick right, in front of Rue and then around the corner of the Kroger's and hopefully out of the line of fire enough to get up some speed and unhook the fifty.
Then I catch Thirds flagging me. I read ya Thirds... like we did in the city...
The wheels skid as I get in position, everyone's going to know I'm coming, but they ain't gonna be ready for exactly where, or that Thirds is gonna be running in my shadow.
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 1, 1. Total: 4)
She falls hard to the ground, and screams out in pain. Your Jeep squeals to a halt a few yards away. The woman struggles to get to her feet, failing miserably, and instead opts to lazily roll onto her back, clutching her ribs with the hand once used to tow her child. She's got a pistol in the other. It looks rusted out, and broken down. The child — no older than four, and barely distinguishably a boy — stands there like a deer caught in the headlights, unsure of whether to try and help his mother, or run from you. The mother eventually hisses, "Run, Tummy! Go!" and without hesitation, he turns and runs, slamming the door to the mall shut behind him.
The woman is inching away from your Jeep, and coughs up a little bit of blood as she tries to push herself up, and to defend herself. Thirds is just behind you at the corner of the building, probably going to you for cover. What do you do?
Rue, you dive for the dumpster off in the corner of this nook, and made it in spite of that big-ass armor you're wearing. It sounds like whoever's shooting that rifle took one last pot-shot at Cinch before scanning the lot for you... And fortunately for you, you're behind a dumpster before he even has a chance to find you. So you're looking to shoot back at him? What's your goal here? To get up into that shop he's shooting from? Kill him? Something else?
Clarity, It takes you a solid minute to wade through the water-filled hall and get to Robinson's position at the main entrance... But you do. That suit-case is filled with a little more than just medical supplies, so it's a little heavy, but you can manage. It sounds like there's a momentary silence as the shooter tries to decide what to shoot at next... It looks like Rue managed to duck out to relative safety, but if you go out into that parking lot, you'll be a prime target. What do you do?
Thirds, you saw the incident with Cinch go down... She blew past you trying to get behind the wall of the Krogers, looking for cover. You're a short sprint away from where it happened. There was no avoiding it no matter how you slice it. Really, that woman is lucky Cinch was behind the wheel — any other person, and she'd be roadkill. Flattened and dead. Maybe her kid too. Either way, there's this odd silence after the Jeep skids to a stop... The woman is inching away from the Jeep towards you. She hasn't spotted you yet. She's too busy with trying to get away from Cinch. What do you do?
Here's the woman and her kid, for the record.
I talk a lot when I'm driving... helps me focus or something. But when it's down to something like this, silence. I pull with everything I've got to skid out of the way, but it ain't enough...
I lock the hand brake, skidding the back of the Jeep around. Before the Jeep stops I've got the door open and I jump out, swing myself to the ground, right foot pushing off of the edge of the door.
I got my left hand raised, a glance at the door, just closed... and I'm quickly darting towards her, speaking as I go. My face is serious.
"Ain't meant to hit'cha," I slow, the handbrake pulls the jeep to a stop with a long screeeeee behind me, maybe just touching the wall with her bumper.
"Don't mean no harm..."
Is there a sniper out there? Maybe we're out of sight around the corner here. Maybe not. Don't really care right now.
I set down the suitcase and take a moment to slow my breathing and look across the expanse of the parking lot. This is not a good situation, with an unseen sniper and a wide open killing field. Rue's safe for the moment, I see Robinson. Cinch and Thirds unseen, but I hear the squeal of tires off around the corner. Nothing to be done at the moment that wouldn't be foolishly exposing myself to no benefit.
So, I wait. Watching for the sniper to expose himself, or for Rue to make a move that I can back.
Some damn fool shootin' without warnin? He's dead. I aim to put 'im down. Don't nobody shoot at me an mine like that an live. I'm lookin' ta move 'round an scoot out to sight 'em, then take 'em out. Switchin' Shelly ta single-shot, squeezin' 'er nice an slow when I get my shot lined.
(Holy cow, that woman in the picture could use a firearm safety course.)
*
Another shot, and then a quiet lull. Robinson remains tight against the concrete column. He makes darting eye contact with Clarity as he emerges, spoils in tow. "Sniper, I think," Robinson says to him, calm.
Waiting for developments: to support a move on Rue's part, or respond to a move on their assailant's part.
Cinch, the woman is holding the pistol up at you, her hand wobbly and bloody from hitting the pavement, "Stay back!" She grimaces with pain, "Jus'... Jus' stay back, OK?" The weight of the gun makes her arm sag, and she's not really aiming at you anymore. If there's a sniper around, he's sure taking his damn time to shoot you... "You ain't one of Hugo's boys with a big fuckin' truck, and guns like that? You don't mean me no harm strapped like that? I don't need your help or nothin'... Jus' let my boy go, OK?"
Robinson & Clarity, if either of you want to help Rue, let me know how.
Ugly business. When flesh meets steel at high velocity. I'm lucky. Woman's not. Cinch is lucky of a kind. How she still manages to stay in good spirits. Nearly killed the woman. She might yet bite it.
I lean to it, push the Dumpster aside to make a path between. "We're not Hugo's. We're Monroe." I'm looking for the sniper. Rue already got 'em? Didn't hear.
I don't like guns pointed at me all that much, but I don't think she's gonna shoot me. Still got my hand raised sort of trying to keep things calm... my pistol's next to the driver's seat in the car. Thing's too damned big to wear around all the time and I forgot to grab it. Usually I would.
"Hey I ain't with Hugo..." Thirds emerges, explaining who we are. I wait for him to say his thing, then add, "look, nobody wants to hurt your boy, but we ain't shot first and our people are out lookin' for that shooter... your boy safe inside there?"
I really am concerned... Rue is in that place somewhere. Clarity maybe... they wouldn't hurt a kid but things happen.
"They gonna find 'im... is he the boy's daddy? Lemme get'cha somewhere safe," she don't look too good. I'd love to calm this down... depending on how she answers I may ask Thirds to do something for me.
And, yeah, I'll help her to shelter, get her in the Jeep if I have to.
Cinch, she looks over to you, uncertain, when you ask if her boy is safe, and answers, "I don't need your help... Shooter won't hurt Tummy unless we try and take his shit. He's his dad... Don't think you can drag me out there and put a gun to my head though... He don't give a shit about me! How many others you got in there? They gunna hurt my boy? I ain't leavin' my boy!"
Roll my eyes. "Monroe town." I put my open hands up. "We're not hurting nobody. Just scavvin. Slow down. You're hurt bad."
Seize by Force:
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 3, 3. Total: 9)
• I suffer little harm
• impress, dismay or frighten my enemy
She spins the gun over to Thirds, she's getting upset... outnumbered now.
"Ain't gonna help you 'less you ask for it, ok? Figure I owe ya to ask..." I raise both hands. But I'm watching the woman's hands. If it looks like she's gonna shoot Thirds then I gotta try and disarm her or... well I don't know.
Speaking to Thirds, "Thirds, we're ok here. Think you can find that sniper... see that he ain't killed?"
If anyone can, then he can...
I look at Cinch a little crazy. "You sure?"
If she is, then I'll look to the gunwoman for signal. Fetch the babydaddy. Back away slowly. Slipslide round the corner. Don't want a bullet in my back.
What's it like on this side? Looking to cross to the sniper. I'm fast, but a fired bullet is faster.
(Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 1, 1. Total: 2)
Rue, the firefight is short, and intense. At first, it's a game of cat and mouse where you'll pop up with Shelly and lay down a few shots, where he'll answer with a shot back. You're pretty sure you saw the glint of the sun reflecting off of his scope at one point over by the Cabelas rooftop, between sheets of scrap metal and brick. Unfortunately, just as you spotted it you felt a strong kick in the shoulder. You drop back down to cover, a spot on your shoulder hot as hell, and sore... Good thing you were being careful with your cover, and had your armor on... A shot like that anywhere else might have fucked you up for life.
Now you've got him zeroed in though — totally worth it. You return the favor with a quick burst, and you spot a mist of white dust fill the air around the spot. You must have got his scope dead on. Nice shot! You can hear someone cursing in the distance when you bolt from cover, trying to move forward. You all but close the distance to the Cabelas when you notice he's not shooting at you anymore... At least not right now.
Cinch and Thirds, the girl wants to believe you, but you get the impression she's been fucked before... Her eyes narrow and she doesn't want to move. If you're offering to spare the sniper, then I suggest one of you manipulate her. That sounds like good leverage to me.
Robinson and Clarity, after a brief exchange, it appears as though Rue has managed to stop the sniper from shooting back. She's clearing a path up to the Cabelas now. What do you do?
I hear the gunplay. Cinch wants to save them, ain't much time. I tuck my tongue in my teeth. Whistle sharp, loud, shrill. Cup my hands. Shout, a voice meant to carry. "Rue! Hold up!" I look at Cinch, grin, tense my weight to run run.
Guess that's me.
She don't look great. I wonder if I killed her... it's starting to eat at me a bit. Damn, at least the kid's all right. Damn, I think so anyway... he went runnin' off like nothin' happened.
"Come on, just let us, try and do right by ya," I only move enough to share a nod with Thirds. That grin of his... confidence I wish I had more of sometimes.
I keep my hands where she can see them. The jeep idles nearby, door still open from where I jumped out.
With the lull in the shooting, I take off toward the dumpster where Rue was initially sheltering. I pause there, looking around the corner for Rue and the shooter.
(Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 3, 6. Total: 9)
Clarity and Robinson are of a mind, moving up in Rue's wake. When the gunfire dies down and Rue has worked her way up, Robinson ducks away from his safe column and hurries to the wreckage of a burned-out vehicle out in the sea of cracked and broken asphalt, closer to the shooter.
What in the hell? I don't tell Thirdie how ta run an find odd lil what-nots, what's he gettin up in my bidness fer?
"Frak this a-hole! He put a hole inna roof o' Cinch's jeep, an damn near blew my head off!" I aint admittin that he got me inna shoulder. Frak, it's hurtin'.
I aint takin' my shot till Thirdie replies, but I hear Clare an Robbie movin, an I aint lettin that a-hole dial 'em in whate'er sights 'e got left. So I'll give 'em cover if 'e pops up.
Helping Thirds convince her:
(Rolled: 2d6-1. Rolls: 5, 1. Total: 5)
For reference, this is the Cabelas:
Thirds, Cinch, the woman looks between you both, but you can tell she particularly doesn't trust Cinch. After a moment's consideration, she answers Thirds explicitly, "you get your friends to back off, leave Shooter alone, then maybe we talk... Without the fuckin' tank girl over here."
Cinch, I don't know how often you go diving in abandoned malls, but it's not exactly safe. That kid is in serious danger in there. You know the real danger is in that building, but she thinks she's prioritizing threats. She knows that a rack could fall and crush her kid, or a floor could collapse, or whatever the hell else... She's just explicitly convinced you're the bigger threat to her child. Maybe that's because she doesn't trust you — but you get the impression it's more because of Shooter, and what he'll do to her.
What do you do?
I lookit 'em both. Wave 'em down, "Git down, y'all!" I whisper at 'em. "Robbie, you hang tight. You see somethin', you callit out, but this aint yer deal." I lookit Clare, he looks strong as an ox, ready ta kick some ass. "Clare, 'ey got themselves a real good spot up 'ere, a killzone 'tween here an the door. But, far as I can tell, theyze only one of 'em."
I scoot o'er ta Clare, put a hand on 'is shoulder. "Ya wanna draw some fire? Or do ya wanna borra Shelly an take 'im out while I do it? Yer call, darlin."
I nod at the mall door with my chin. Hands still open. Holding still otherwise. Easy with a gun barrel in your face. "Whaddabout your kid? You can get 'im out all banged out like you are?" I look to Cinch. She can't exactly drive into the mall. I got some wry and dry amusement on my deadpan face. Maybe it's my eyebrows.
I shout to Rue, "Gotta wounded woman over here! Accident!" I look straight at the woman. Wonder what her name is. She's still got bloodflecks on her lips. "She's got a kid!"
I take a step back, clenching those gloves in my raised hand.
"Ok... ok all right," not surprised she don't trust me. I mean... I did just run her down.
"Gonna go run some cover, try and..." it hurts how she's lookin' at me... I just back off, looking away. Down... damn in. I start to head for the Jeep, she don't want to hear it.
I slip my gloves on as I walk, and it occurs to me that I haven't had my eyes on the road. On the fight... I don't even know where Shooter is. But it obviously ain't over yet.
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 2, 1. Total: 4)
The cover stops, and it's all open ground. All the way, that is, to the barricaded entrance. This is what's meant to happen. It's quiet up there. Their shooter is getting into position, reloading, or worse.
Rue wants him to hang tight. Not his deal. A flicker across Robinson's face. Annoyance? Amusement? A memory of Bastion, the Bronx, the long, bad years on Long Island and up the coast.
"This is a killzone," Robinson mutters. A trap.
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 4, 6. Total: 12)
Sadly, he's a better shot than you'd perhaps hoped. A loud bang fills the air, and Clarity stumbles for the briefest of moments...
Clarity, searing hot lead punches through your armor, but adrenaline keeps you on your feet. It hurts like a motherfucker. This is bad. (OOC: Suffer 2-harm after armor.) You can all but hear him pulling back the bolt of his rifle again. You'd better hope Rue is a good shot — because if his next shot is as good as the first, then this could be catastrophic... You're a little shy of the half-way point. Stopping to turn around wouldn't be much quicker than just powering through to the other side... What do you do?
Rue, Robinson, for the briefest of moments, you both spot him. A man in camo behind a fortress of armco and cinderblock. He's bringing the bolt of his rifle back into place, and he's about to shoot Clarity again. It's not the clearest of shots, seeing as there are only a few cracks you can actually see through, but it's certainly an opening. A raspy voice calls down from the roof of the building, "Nobody moves now, or I shoot this boy in his pretty little head." Clarity, clearly that was intended for you, but it doesn't sound like it was... The voice continues, "which one of you shot up my scope?"
What do you do?
Cinch, you bolt for your Jeep, and just as you settle into your seat, you hear another shot ring off... Another hunting rifle. Sounds like things are about to set off again. Still going pedal to the metal out to Rue et al?
Thirds, When the shot rings out again, the woman jumps, and her eyes turn to the parking lot out front... With Cinch gone, she lowers her gun, and seems a little more at ease. "Don't tell 'em that! Tummy's prolly gone to get our kit to fix me up. You gunna stop them from killin' Shooter, or what?"
A shot again. The Sniper? I look, quick quick. Robinson. Clarity. Rue. Hope they're okay. Not sure I care about Shooter or Nameless here. Cinch does, sure. But Tummy... he's just a kid. Hard world for a kid grow up alone. "Sounds like your babydaddy doin' the shootin'."
I take off after Cinch. Almost beat her. Smile. Hop on the back of the Jeep. "Got a plan?" I hope she does.
I pull up into the familiar seat, feeling wrong... I look back at her one last time. Thirds startles me, didn't expect him to be with me on this.
I turn to look back at Thirds, silent for a second as I meet his eyes... I hate myself right now... just a little. Hope he can't see it... but after what I done here... and I can't make it right, can I?
"Nope," I answer Thirds. No plan.
I throw the Jeep into reverse, gunning the engine and spinning her 'round, tapping the brakes for just a moment then hitting the gas to pull out with a lurch.
I pull back around the corner with some speed, got to see what all this shooting's about... what do we see?
"I shot yer frakkin' scope 'cause ya damn near blew my head off!" I call back. I aint stressed er screamin', just talkin' loud so 'e hears me. "Da frak are ya plannin' on doin'? Shootin' till I toss a nade up 'ere? I don't wanna do that, ya hear?"
Nades are 'spensive.
Robinson bides his time.
Jesus, that hurts. Hearing the shooter's voice, I stumble to a halt, just barely avoid falling to my knees. Hands to my side.
After those last few steps and my halt, the haze of pain and adrenalin disconnects mind from body and I'm remembering...
Three days I've been on the trail of this asshole that killed Applejack's second husband. I finally reach this crumbling hut in the middle of the woods and I pull my rifle, Joy, up to my shoulder, sited in on the front door. I shout to the asshole Come out, asshole! and wait, still, in communion with the sounds of the forest and the warmth of my gun stock. Movement at the window, and I fire once. Hear a woman's scream.
And then I'm back. Standing still against the pain. Hearing Rue's return words, waiting for the next moment.
Rue, Clarity comes to a halt, and you can see the sniper up there nod in approval. "Nice shot," he calls back, just as the Jeep revs up in the distance. "Tell you what... I've got a nice crate of ammo up here for an assault rifle 'bout hat size... You get in that big ass jeep, with that big-ass gun, and ride off into the sunset, and I'll le'cha have it."
Clarity, that was weird, going back to that time... You can feel whispers, and a nagging pressure at the back of your head. If you were to open your brain right now, take a +1forward.
Quickly take in the situation, Clarity's hit... Sniper's up on the roof. They're talkin' at least... I lay off the gas and coast forward towards Clarity. Got my eyes on the roof line. If I see trouble I'll give it some gas. If not I'll just coast over to Clarity, putting the Jeep between him and the Shooter.
Looking at the situation. I get Cinch's plan. Ready myself to help Clarity.
[OOC Open your mind]
(Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 1, 1. Total: 2)
I ignore sniper-boy fer a minute, "Clare, how ya doin?" I look o'er at 'im. Feelin' bad that I sent 'im runnin' an left 'im out ta dry. O' course, 'e did start yellin' real quick, like 'e's sendin' 'em a big ole announcement afore 'e started runnin'. Didn't have time ta get Shelly up.
Clarity, the psychic maelstrom is a bumbling, ever present cacophony of invasive thoughts and memories from people alive and dead. To some people it's a long dead family member they welcome with open arms that guides them through the chaos of the world. For others it's a pack of wolves circling ravenously outside of their view, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. The parking lot lights up with cars of a thousand varieties and colors, and store signs shining brightly... Target, Krogers, Radio Shack, Forever 21, Barnes & Noble... The world is alive again, and vibrant with the passion and soul of the millions of people who live here.
The joy in your heart is a stark contrast to the hard asphalt pressed against your knees, and the hauntingly familiar sound of that woman's scream. You welcome the maelstrom, and it invites its friends in. Bodies litter the ground here, some shot in the sides, others stared down their fate boldly, with anger in their hearts. None of them stood a chance... Shooter is the only son of the last remaining SEAL. A group of men who valued physical and mental excellence. He was forged in the crucible of war to maintain peace. He wore his title and rank like a badge of honor, and he was a celebrated hero in his time... But men like him were never meant for a peaceful world. He hated civilian life when he was stationed on home soil, and he turned inward when the anomalies came — relying only on himself. He opened himself only once, for a woman he loved. She could not bear him. Have you ever loved someone?
Shooter was the result of that union; and while she never knew the inside of that store, Shooter earned his place there through great trials and tribulation. He learned the ways of the great SEALs, and carries their torch with the hopes of passing it on to his son one day. One he does not admit is his own, even though he cannot deny it. Even now, you can feel the years of distrust and fear from his own father weighing him down. His father, Greene, is judging him silently from beyond the grave. He's got his father's rifle aimed squarely at you. That last shot was a warning, he reassured himself, this next one won't miss... Shooter's eye wanders from time to time, to a stone step near the mall's entrance where the little boy Tummy sits — a place he allows no other. Greene's presence jumps down off the building and screams at you to stay put. His voice enters your mind. This is my house, he screams, you and your kind don't belong here! The world returns to its dull, decaying self — but Greene's presence remains. Is there someone who your eye wanders to, Clarity?
OOC: Clarity, Greene is interfering with your next action. Take -1forward.
All, Cinch and Thirds are slowly coasting towards the scene of the altercation... Clarity seems to be coming to, and Shooter is waiting patiently for Rue to respond — exactly how far his patience will go, however, is up for debate.
As the Maelstrom releases me, I look up, first checking the position of my allies, feeling a peculiar strange gratitude when I see Cinch driving toward the altercation, apparently no worse for wear despite the new hole in her ride. The vision is gone, but I still hear Greene's shout in my ears, ringing.
I raise my hands from my head, wave to Rue, call out. "Hurt, but not permanent."
I look to Rue. We can take this deal. I give her a nod, sharp yes. Then jerk a thumb at the mall. Rub my fingertips together, like jingle.
I look to Clarity. I don't like it. We need meds more than ever. I'm worried, Cinch can see the edges in my face.
"Let my man get on back behind cover." I yell up at the sniper. "Then we'll work somethin' out."
He'll be behind cover in a second, cover's comin' to him.
I clap a hand on Cinch's shoulder, glad to get Clarity safe. I look at it like it belongs to someone else. I pull it back. Hang onto the rollbar.
"Um. Not bad for no plan."
Cinch, Thirds, you're about 50 yards out from Clarity's position when you finally spot the edge of the rifle barrel sticking out from cover on top of the Cabelas rooftop. It's clear Clarity's been shot, and he's paused as the group talks it out. You heard him shout down the order for you to stay back.
Thirds touches my shoulder and I turn to glance back at him. One hand lightly on the wheel as we coast towards Clarity.
Then Sniper shouts down to us, he's using this... leaving Clarity out there as a bargaining chip. Doesn't sit right with me but you know I can't hurt the guy... not for this.
Thirds pulls hsi hand back, I glance back at him again with a heavy nod. "Ok... it's all you, Thirds." I say quietly before turning the wheel, peeling away from Clarity with a touch of the gas pedal.
I'm going to pass a corner of the Sniper's building just for a moment. Just close enough for Thirds to do his magic and get up there. Hopefully unseen.
Frak that a-hole, I'm tossin' a nade up on 'is ass.
I'll cook it off, 'cause I'm gettin' Clare.
I'm about to go for it. Rue catches my eye. Not like that! Well, maybe a little. But she's got something. And she does something obvious.
I see the pin glint in the daylight. I duck, get my eyes clear.
"Shit. Grenade, Cinch."
The moment it looks like they're going to disregard the shooter's orders and try something drastic, Robinson makes a dash to where Clarity is kneeling. Gotta get him behind some hard cover. He has the little .380 pistol out, arm's length, fires it at the parapet where the sniper is hiding to keep him suppressed.
== END SCENE ==