[JW 2.0] Between Two Points (2)

Rich

Stitch,

You've been on the road for a full day, heading east for Tradertown. Good news is that it leaves the Wendys at your back (at least that's the best rumors for now). Bad news is that the weather is unrelentingly hot. Applejack's been driving her "lil charger" most of the time. Here it is:


She has the music set to Tower One, old country and rock music from the 1970s to the 2000s, ancient stuff. As you're riding this morning, half awake, half asleep, some song called "Pour Some Sugar On Me" or somesuch is playing. You're riding a narrow road on top of a ridge about a hundred feet high that overlooks the old "Pods", that nuclear waste that Kiddo warned you about, the place that might have an AI body Metro could use to fix his Logic Circuit.


Applejack reaches up to turn down the radio, "Mama, they're's somethin' uppa head." She points just off the ridge to what looks like a recently wrecked car. You see some steam rising out of the hood, but you don't see any people or any other cars. Might be someone in the driver's seat. Maybe.

"Could be a trap." Applejack mentions casually. She's slowed the car, but she hasn't stopped. You'll pass it by in a minute.

What do you do?

Genevieve

My stomach churns. If it wasn't Metro, I'd stop. I tell myself that, anyway. But one hour here and half a day there and I'll get back to find him dead. I can't... I shake my head and that mental image away. My eyebrows draw together. "Yeah." is all I can squeak out.

I look over the scene, trying to assess it.

(OOC: Read a sitch incoming.

Genevieve

(OOC: Read a sitch, roll+sharp
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 2, 2. Total: 7)

Genevieve

(OOC: What should I be on the lookout for?)

Rich

There's a dust cloud building up around a big hill over there. You're not the only ones who are headed this way. The wreck doesn't look staged, though.

Genevieve

I didn't even look that hard. "Someone is coming, over there." I warn her. For whatever reason I can't bring myself to actually tell her to drive past. I look down at the drawing of the logic circuit that Metro made me, trying not to think of what I'll do if I fail.

Rich

Without a word to stop, Applejack drives on, past the wreckage, over the piece of the road where the car obvious veered off and rolled a few times, ending up near the bottom of the embankment. She steps on the gas before that dust cloud ever gets near.

Did you see anyone in the car? That runs through your head for how long? How long, until night comes?


"Hey Mama, we either need to stop soon, or swap off." Applejack says as you ride along unremarkable scrublands to the east. There's a set of lights, maybe forty miles ahead, some village, Applejack said. No hotel, but a place where you can park and sleep in some semblance of safety.

What do you do?

Genevieve

I didn't see a person, but the ground near the driver's door had blood on it. I tell myself it could just be some rusted piece of metal, that I might be seeing things. I alternate between worrying I've just ended someone's life by not stopping and whether or not Metro is still alive.

I fiddle with the radio every half hour or so, trying to see if he's broadcasting. I don't hear his voice, though. My long legs are cramped in this car and I wonder if I should have taken the van. This one is probably faster, though, so I shift and try to ignore my aching knees.

Night comes slowly as the sun sets, but then all at once, it's dark and the stars are out. I never get over the night sky on this planet- it's so unlike Earth.

"We can swap." I offer. I'd rather not stop until we have to.

Rich

Applejack brings the car to a stop, opening the door to move around. It's quiet out here, signals from Radio One have died off to static, but you kept the radio on in case of transmissions, knowing Metro's transmitter's very powerful.

You can hear the dirt scuff under your feet in the chill air as you move around to take the driver seat. Applejack's eyes are puffy and she moves slowly. You know she's going to curl up and sleep.

If you want to pull up to this village and grab a few hours of sleep, you can do that. If you want to push on east until Applejack's rested enough to take over, well, you know the way. But it's dangerous out here, so give me an Act Under Fire.

Genevieve

I push on east, I don't have time to sleep.

(OOC: Act under fire incoming.)

Genevieve

(OOC: Act under fire, roll+sharp, good in the clinch.)
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 4, 6. Total: 13)

Rich

You drive for a few hours, past the small village, further on the road towards the last known location of Tradertown. Applejack snoozes quickly as the path becomes flat and monotonous. Eventually, you hit this kind of zen state. A cloak seems to cover the car and your travel is almost mystical. It's perhaps like you entered a fold in the Psychic Maelstrom, passing from one point to the destination in a time unlike time.

The moment is broken when Applejack stirs. Her movement, her yawn as she rises, brings you back. It's sometime in the afternoon, and you see the rumbling behemoth that is Tradertown kicking up dust on the horizon.


"Hey Mama, what time is it? Is that..." She points to Tradertown. It is, you know. "Bedknobs and broomsticks, we got here early!"

TRADERTOWN

Genevieve

"What? Oh, yeah." I reply, a little surprised myself. I look around, remembering my last time in Tradertown. "Listen, the last time I was here, there was a sort of... sentience, in the town. It wanted Metro- maybe for his parts, I'm not sure. Just be careful, ok?"

Rich

Applejack reaches into the back to pull out some food she'd brought along, hands you some jerky, bread and honey, "If it wanted his parts then, you think it might have them now?"

If you recall, you can either ride alongside and try to jump onto Tradertown, which is free. Or, you can ask them to drop the ramp and drive up and park, but that costs a bit (not a whole jingle, but you'll need to swap off something. Applejack brought some food to trade if you need, just tell me what).

Genevieve

I don't want to leave Apple's car somewhere to get torched or stolen, we'll pay the fee. "Let's do the ramp." I tell her, but it's more like a question. I was so focused on getting going I didn't think of things like jingle. I have barter with me, but it's mostly medical supplies and I'm loathe to part with that unless absolutely necessary.

Rich

"Sure, mama. You're the expert here." Applejack leans back to fetch her hand-rocket out of a satchel. She checks her pistol, too.

You catch the eye of the rampman. He lowers it, and you pull Applejack's nice ride up onto the parking lot. Some scrungy kids come by with grimy rags and start offering to wipe at your windows. Probably make a few clean spots, maybe.