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[FURY] Out of the Red (Gates 2.1,Valentine 2.2, Vignette 2.1)
Gates and Vignette
The harbor isn’t as grand as you might think. Couple of mud-logged hulls decorated with strings of electric lights that flash and blink and sometimes just go out entirely. A path of boards and plywood stained red from countless muddy footprints winds its way across the muddy basin to the relative comfort of the Harbormaster’s ship.
You can see that the mud is rising, with each rain another inch or two, crusting over with each dry spell. But some day the ship will just be gone beneath the red. It’s clear just how badly Harbormaster needs this deal, Vignette. Soon he won’t have a place here at all.
A guard walks slowly back and forth on top, a long gun cradled into the crook of his arm. Couple of HM’s older boys and girls lounge on the balcony over the entry. Somewhere, you hear someone coughing.
”Invited guests, Harbormaster?” calls the sentry. Probably Harbormaster has some code answer he can give which means “start shooting” but today he raises a hand and answers that all’s well.
Vignette, you’re here at Admiral’s request, he wants to get a good look at Harbormaster and what he’s bringing to SafeCo. He offered you a jingle to go and bring back information on H.M. and assure Admiral that his authority isn't threatened. By anyone.
Nobody expected you to be here, Vignette. What did you tell Harbormaster about why you came?
Gates, a man from HM’s flock has walked among you, nearest to you, specifically. His name is Boeing, and he seems very interested in you. During the walk, you might have taken his interest in your following, your religion, but it’s become more and more obvious that he’s showing interest in you, asking personal questions about your life, your interests outside the worship. Boeing has become a bit more forward as you’ve come closer to the harbor. His golden skin beads with nervous sweat and he just tried to take your hand in his.
Harbormaster stops at the edge of his boardwalk, hands on hips. “Home sweet home. You know. I’ll miss this place. But life will be sweeter when we’re all one big family. Isn’t that right?” He turns to you, Gates, and you, Vignette, with a practiced, charming smile.
What do you do?
Gates, go ahead and make your opening of session roll.
Comments
Start of session roll...
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 4, 5. Total: 10)
The family was happy to get work, even if folks aren't too happy to be walkin' over to the Harbor. None of us is exactly a supporter of HM or what he does, and the Harbor is, generally, a strange place.
Nonetheless, we like to keep busy, and several from the family volunteered to head out right away. QuePasa, of course. She wasn't about to let me go down to HM's world without her keepin' two good eyes on me. Jones, Troll, Bobblehead, Utilikilt, Fremont and Stumptown, too. Ghost is too young, of course, but I did get a chance to jabber with her for a minute when we got back. Asked 'bout Bon. Her eyes lit right up like Bon was the sun peekin' out from behind a raincloud. Okay. Gotta think a bit. See what I want to say to her when we get a chance to really sit and chew on it. Rei couldn't go, of course, cause o' her arm, but she and Ghost get along, so she can watch the little one.
FortyFour just sort of wandered out here with us, too. No indication one way or another if he's joinin' up, but he seems to be havin' a good time and I ain't gonna turn down a fella like that's help here.
The whole family is a a mix o' confused, amused, and nervous about this Boeing fella, though. He's been pokin' at me the whole walk. I mean, when yer a man o' my age, the attention is flattering, I tell you what, but I'm not particularly interested in that sort of attention right now, let alone from a fella I don't know from Adam. I've been trying to be polite but firm with him. When he took my hand, I let go and patted him, friendly-like, on the shoulder. Hopefully he gets the idea...
Every once and a while I meet some ol' hocus who goes in for that flirt and convert stuff and I just gotta shake my head. I got some fine lookin' members of the family, fer sure, and some might even do that if I told 'em to, but I couldn't live with myself. We'd probably have more members, but what would those members be worth if they're just there cause they think someone's gonna diddle 'em? Besides, what kinda person sells people's bodies like that?
Oh yeah, the one givin' me that big fake smile right at this very moment.
"Of course, one big family," I call out, with an only slightly less practiced smile. "You just tell us what to do and we'll make sure it gets done."
I do not go to the harbor often. I do not like the red boats or the way people feel, surrounded by red. I am here because the Admiral wants it, and because if I am spying on Harbormaster, I am not spying on Valentine. Spying on Valentine feels worse than visiting the red boats.
The Admiral gives me orders like before, thinking I will not say "no". I insisted he pay. I am not his to order around anymore. It is a nonsense question the Admiral asks: is his authority threatened? Of course his authority is threatened--by the Harbormaster. I wonder how the Admiral wants me to ensure the Harbormaster is not a threat. I can think of several ways.
The Harbormaster asks why I am here--I am not one of Gates' people. The Harbormaster is not a nice man, not a stupid man either. He knows I worked for the Admiral, so when he asks, I tell him.
"I will decide how much you threaten the Admiral's interests. I am very good at decisions like this," I say matter-of-factly, as I continue walking, eyes straight ahead.
Fortyfour walks with the group. Maybe he is surprised I am here. I watch him, wonder if he is upset at me for leaving him with Gates the night we came to Safeco. I do not approach him, but I am glad he is here, for many reasons. Some of these, I try not to think about.
Gates,
An older woman dressed in multi-colored layers, with a thick fur wrap comes out of the boat, her hands outstretched with a painted-on smile on her face and gloves covering her delicate hands, "Master, we are so glad you return for us!" HM approaches her, gives her a cursory look, then sends her inside the boat with Fortyfour, Utilikilt and Bobblehead to get working on loading up their stuff.
There are mattresses, furniture, keepsakes and other goods to be moved. Gates, how is everything being carried back to SafeCo?
Vignette,
Once HM has his people working on packing up, he gestures to you, Vignette, "If you're here to judge me, then you should at least see what I can bring to Admiral that would make him happy. Come inside, Vignette, I want to show you what has been my home." He waits for you to walk along the ramshackle bridge to join him on the boat.
What do you do?
Huh. Well that there was strange. Maybe she thought I was someone else?
I glance at the palettes that Troll and Stumptown rigged up. The two of 'em are good at that sort of thing. Whenever we gotta move somethin' like this they rig up some wooden palettes with some wheels on the bottom and rope for pullin'. They usually ain't much to look at, but they make the whole thing much easier. A team o' people pullin' on those palettes has a much easier time then iff'n they were just carryin' things.
I'm lucky to have people like this around me. Makes my life easier.
I catch HM leadin' Vignette into the boat. I hope she knows what she's doin'. She may be an odd one, but it seems like, deep down, she's got a good heart. HM? Nothin' odd about him. He's the exact same as every other evil man I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. They're a dime a dozen.
As I think about Vignette, somethin' occurs to me. I wonder if WotCee and Ghost know each other?
Tap, tap, tap... Spider clutches the back of my neck while two of its legs slide up under my hair to underscore its thoughts with strenuous and impertinent taps on my scalp.
I do not like it either, but I am not a fly, I think back to Spider. And what is a parr-lore? Some kind of boat? I does not sound that dangerous.
Tap. Tap-tap.
No, I do not think you are a better judge. You do not even spin webs. Besides, even if this is a parr-lore, we are the spider and the fly.
My eyes shift focus back to the Harbormaster, who stands waiting for me to accept his invitation to cross the bridge and step inside his home--
Parr-lore, Spider and I think at once.
His patience looks forced to me. Despite Spider's reservations, I do not think the Harbormaster has anything to gain by harming me.
"I am happy to see your home," I say to the Harbormaster with a smile I believe is as genuine as his own.
I cross the dodgy-looking bridge carefully, scanning the bridge, the boat, and the Harbormaster.
Marking XP (5->0, advance)
Reading the Sitch
• which enemy is the biggest threat?
• what should I be on the lookout for?
• what’s my enemy’s true position?
Vignette,
• which enemy is the biggest threat?
The Underdeep is the biggest threat. You’ve seen them in spiderdreams, Vignette. Spider doesn’t spin webs in the real world, but she sometimes shows you things, right? She’s shown you the inky black tendrils of the Underdeep people.
• what should I be on the lookout for?
Harbormaster wants to make this move. Badly enough to put up with Admiral’s control, bad enough to cede much of his control to Valentine, even. And he drags Gates and his flock out here… it’s like he wants to move now. Not tomorrow, not next week. There’s real danger here, Vignette. Something Harbormaster himself fears.
• what’s my enemy’s true position?
That sentry on the roof. He turned to greet you as you approached, but now he’s facing the other way, the red mud which seems to be welling up around the ship like it’s trying to overwhelm it. He’s facing the mud, the sea… whatever they’re afraid of is out there.
The "bridge"--a kind name for it--lies across the bloody mud. As I walk across, the boards rise and fall, sinking and sliding a little on the slick mud and making a disgusting sucking sound as mud and air fight over each board. Between the movement of the boards and the smell of blood, I am sure I am going to be sick. I struggle for balance when the visions hit me: half-remembered dreams of shapes I cannot name, black, blood-slicked tendrils reaching out for me from a heaving, viscous blood slurry.
I stop on the bridge and let the vision pass and the nausea subside enough for me to move. As I reach the Harbormaster at the other side. I ask in a shaky voice, "How long do we have? How far inland can they come?"
Gates,
QuePasa heads inside with Fortyfour and the others, eager to get in the den of inequity, then get back out. Boeing stays with you, "Friend Gates," he addresses you as he has been all the while. He doesn't try to touch you again. "Would you help me... with my room?"
Vignette,
HM looks at you with surprise for a moment, Vignette. It slips away, replaced by his smile as he slips an arm over your shoulder, looking down at you, "Oh, Vignette, Admiral does not know what a prize he has in you. You are simply... divine." As you step into the boat, the smell of the outside is quickly replaced by smoky incense and perfumes. "Would you like to work for some real jingle?"
I step forward into the boat, shrugging away from his arm on my shoulder. "The Admiral understands my value very well." Is that really true, though? I wonder. Does the Admiral still see me as a child? He assumed I was just going to spy on Valentine because he told me to. Assumed I would do the same with the Harbormaster. I had to remind him I was not his tool.
"I do not work only for the Admiral. I do not take all work. Some things I do not do." Anymore.
Vignette,
He doesn't seem offended that you moved his arm, maybe he takes it as a challenge. "Do you frak for jingle?" He asks brazenly. "Or just frak minds?"
"There are many reasons to frak. Minds or otherwise. I do not understand why jingle is a special thing in this." I shrug. "When I frak--minds or otherwise--it is on my own terms. That is all that matters."
"Are you propositioning me? Or do you think calling me a whore will distract me from the job I am doing for the Admiral? Why distract me? Your people are nervous. Something is coming. And you first flatter me and then seek to buy me or offend me at the suggestion. You throw all your darts at once, hoping one will stick. What is it that you so do not wish me to see?"
I chuckle as Boeing asks me to help him. Probably not my best fake laugh, but good enough.
"I'm mostly here to supervise, friend. Moving furniture is a young person's game. I ain't old, but I ain't young, neither. So I think I'll just wait outside."
I glance around to see who else is nearby...
Also, reading a person on Boeing...
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 3, 3. Total: 7)
Asking my question: how could I get Boeing to get the hint and back off?
Gates,
Boeing got the hint, a while back. He's been trying different angles, getting more desperate. It's like he has to do this, it isn't something he's doing because he wants to do it.
I look Boeing right in the eye. "You okay, fella? Someone put you up to this? I'll keep my mouth shut about it if so, just tryin' to get to the bottom o' what's up. You seem a lil... on edge."
Gates,
This is Boeing, by the by:
Boeing looks at you for a long moment. "Listen.... I like you, Gates. You're kind, smart, not so bad looking. I don't mind that the Master asked me to get in good with you, okay? I'm not a bad person. I can... I can make you happy."
I let out a sigh. I was worried that's what it was.
"Nope. You can't, my friend. Nothin' against you. I'm sure you're good at it, an' all. Just that my happiness is dependent on only two folks: me n' the Lord." I pause, mulling things over just for a second. I look him in the eye again and ask "Anyone ever ask you what yer happiness is dependent on, Boeing?"
Gates,
He swallows, looking around. Not embarrassed, but not terribly happy at the flat refusal. He looks over at QuePasa, eyes lingering, then answers, "Which one of them is the Lord, Gates?"
Hmm. Poor kid. That one hurts. Not because he hasn't heard o' the Lord. That ain't all that weird. Most folks haven't heard o' much and what they have heard of is usually a whole bunch o' nonsense. It's that he don't seem to have a good sense o' who he is outside o' someone tellin' him what to do.
Okay, gotta think about this. Play this one right.
"Listen, friend," I start. "Nothin' like that's gonna happen between us, but I don't wanna see you get in trouble, neither, so why don't we do each other some good deeds. I'll let you tag along, close to me, so you can tell yer Master..." (I probably sounded a bit more sarcastic then I meant to there, but what can ya do?) "...that you've done what yer s'pose to. In the meanwhile, you and I will do some jabberin' about that master o' yers. Nothin' you ain't comfortable with, just wanna know how the whole operation works."
I hold out my hand. "We got us a deal, friend Boeing?"
Also, intending to manipulate.
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 3, 1. Total: 6)
Exp+1
See last Vignette post for color on this roll. Marking XP (1).
Okay, holding 3. Let's spend the first two right now.
How could I get the HM to tell me what's really going on?
What does the HM wish I would do?
Holding onto that last one.
Vignette,
HM will spill once you're in his room, away from the others.
HM wishes you'd at least consider working for him, he's prepared to pay you very well.
“You would be more comfortable continuing this in your room,” I say. It is not a question.
I smile slightly, more with my eyes than my lips. “Talking, not frakking.”
Vignette,
HM smiles that slippery smile and leads you inside, down a hall, "You're half right about what would make me comfy."
How are you in tight spaces, Vignette? How's Spider?
All,
You all hear a thunder crack. Across the horizon, you see a storm coming. People start moving more quickly, nervous to be caught out.
The Harbormaster's quarters are very small. I do not mind this. At all. It is bigger than the dark box. Daddy used to have me train in the dark box. It was supposed to make my gift stronger. He said that in the Before Times, it was called an "isolation chamber". They put water in it and you floated in darkness. That much clear water is hard to imagine. That much pink water, worse to imagine. I just lay in the dry darkness. For hours...or days...I could not always tell, but I was sometimes very hungry. I do not know if it made my gift stronger, but I did not mind the dark box. It was quiet and alone. I liked it more than when Daddy had me train on people.
Spider is comfortable. It prefers small places. It used to live in a small hole in a tree and now spends most of its time under my hood or coat.
The Harbormaster seems interested in my gift...and other things. I am interested in how much. As I enter his quarters, I take off my long overcoat and drape it over a chair. I can feel his eyes on me and think he is not so focused on my gift right now.
The thunder interrupts before he can say anything. I look out through the hazy glass porthole and see a sky threatening rain, dark clouds turning darker, bloodstained.
I turn back to the Harbormaster. "I am lucky to be here to wait out the storm. That is, if you do not mind--it is close quarters with us both in here," I say, pursing my lips and curling them into a half-smile. I glance back to the porthole. "It is difficult for me to relax when the rains come. Maybe you have something strong to drink? Maybe we can both become relaxed?"
Vignette,
A little map of the short trip down the hall from the outside to HM's cabin:
"We're not waiting out the storm, Vignette." HM says as he walks over to his bar and picks out a decanter of some amber liquid, pouring two drinks. "I paid well for this to go fast. I don't want to spend another night here," He hands you a tumbler, keeping one for himself, "Even if it's with you."
I turn to Boeing and say "Think it over, friend. In the meantime, let's get inside before the rain."
“I do not think leaving right now is a good idea,” I say. “Why would you risk the rain for one night? And maybe not such a bad night…”
Gates,
Boeing looks out over the horizon. "I don't think you wanna be here when it rains, Gates."
Vignette,
HM takes a long drink from his tumbler, looking over you, considering your words.
Are you seducing HM to keep him here during the storm, Vignette?
Hmm… Seducing? No. I am not there yet. I am not a princess, thinking I am above such things. But this man, with his sly smile… I will try other things first.
“Stay. Drink with me. Maybe you tell me what is so bad here. Tell me this thing you said would please the Admiral. Maybe if we drink enough, you will forget about the rain.”
I take the bottle and pour him another drink. I add just a tiny splash to my glass, trying not to draw attention to that. Maybe he is not good at drinking. Maybe he gets drunk and forgets about leaving, forgets about frakking.
I look out at the red, red water around the boats. He's right. This is no place for folks to be in the rain. We'd better move, then, if we're gonna make this happen. As I hear the distant thunder, though, I wonder if that's even possible.
I turn and face the clouds. Close my eyes just for second...
Lord, show me what to do. Raise a roof over my soul so that we may find our way to safety. Let the sun break through the clouds and guide my path...
Opening my brain, of course.
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 3, 6. Total: 11)
exp+1
Vignette,
HM nurses his drink, "I will drink with you, Vignette. But Gates and his people will continue loading up, and I may, or I may not forget about the rain." He heads to the bed and sits down, pats a spot beside him for you.
I walk over and stand in front of him as he sits on the bed. His face is level with and just inches away from the black, sheer fabric covering my midriff. It is a view that some men, and a few women, have found not objectionable.
I lift the bottle to my lips and pretend to take a long drink, relying on his being at the wrong angle and too distracted to spot my deception.
"I thought you were going to drink with me," I say, looking at the drink he's been nursing. I take the drink from his hand and knock it back. I cannot do much more of that, so I hope that's sold it. I put the empty glass down on a side table and hand him the bottle. I reach out with my other hand and run my fingers through his hair.
OOC: I'm trying to get the HM drunk--like passing out drunk--so we wait out the storm, and so he's helpless in my presence. Of course, I have to avoid the same fate, and I'm a little slip of a thing, just over 100 pounds. My hope is I can keep him distracted enough that he doesn't notice I'm drinking a lot less than he is.
Vignette,
Oh, my little Brainer. I do think you're Acting Under Fire to get HM drunk without falling prey to it yourself.
Act under fire: (Rolled: 2d6+0. Rolls: 2, 1. Total: 3)
Vignette,
You know, this brandy or whatever... it's really good. It was pretty strong, that first pretend sip almost took your breath away. HM was such a slow drinker that you ended up taking a second, third, fourth little sip. And it kept tasting better and better.
This stuff is maybe the best thing you've ever drunk, Vignette. Your whole body tingles and you're so hot. It's really hot in here, this place all cozy. HM's actually a pretty funny guy, you know. Everything he says is so amusing.
At some point, you're not sure when, you laid down on his bed. He was sitting there, still drinking and chatting with you. Hey, he isn't pushing for everyone to go anymore. You pulled it off!
And your eyelids felt like stones. Your blinks got longer, and longer. You started missing entire sentences when HM would talk to you. He'd start saying something, then you blinked, and when the blink stopped, he was still talking, but about something else.
At some point, you're not sure when, you fell asleep.
When was the last time you dreamed about your mother? What happened?
When was the last time I dreamed about my mother? I do not know this…when was the last thunderstorm? There was thunder that night. In the dream there is thunder.
I am four years old. Mama is rushing, scared, but not panicked. I don’t remember Mama ever panicking. She is so pretty… Her skin is white porcelain like mine, but her hair is black like moonless night and her eyes grey like unblooded storm clouds. She is delicate with small bones like me. As see this now, as I look with older eyes, but back then, she was big to me, as big as her spirit. She was not afraid of anything. She was the center of every room. Daddy used to call her “the ice queen” and sometimes worse things I didn’t understand. Maybe because she was the only one I saw argue with him.
But this night is different. This night, she hurries to pack our things–hers and mine, not Daddy’s–into a big suitcase. Mama says we are visiting her Aunt Zooz. I did not know Aunt Zooz, but I remember because it was a funny name, like from the Beforetimes books she reads to me. She asks me to grab my things–a pillow, books, the funny plush spider she gave me for my birthday…
That’s when Daddy walks in, and the light leaves her eyes. It is like something has happened already, but I do not know what. Mama takes me by the hand and leads me to the closet. She kneels in front of me and cups my cheek in her hand. I remember the sad look in her eyes. The way she cried without showing it. I can see Daddy over her shoulder. He is saying something in a mean dog voice, but I cannot hear the words. I only hear Mama’s voice, “I love you so much my little snowflower. Stay inside until we come to get you, alright? Cover your ears and sing that song I taught you.”
She closes me in the closet and I cover my ears and sing. I hear some shouting anyway, but I am already singing as loud as I can. I do not hear or do not remember the words they say, but Daddy’s voice is louder and scarier than the thunder. I think I fell asleep, because it is all quiet when Daddy opens the closet door. He takes me by the hand and leads me out of the room. Mama’s suitcase–no, our suitcase–is still open on the bed.
I never saw Mama after that night. I do not know where she went, or what happened to her, or why she would risk going out with the thunder already started. I am not afraid of thunder, but I do not go out in it if I can help it. Thunder is the sound of Mama leaving.
Gates,
The old stories tell of a sea of red, as you gaze thoughtfully over the bloody expanse, deep crimson in the mud-choked harbor out to a frothed pink surface of the sea.
The lord sends signs. On my those who have heard the good word have eyes to see and ears to hear.
You see ripples in the surface, Gates. Tiny ripples on the bloody sea betray horrors beneath and horrors to come.
The ripples turn to waves, and the waves to a flood. This storm will be fierce, will bring suffering, destruction. And something out there is waiting for it.
In the old tales, the Lord parted the sea to bring the children salvation. But there's no salvation today, and the Lord works in mysterious ways.
At least this time you've been whispered a warning, Gates. Something is out there in the red, it waits and watches. This storm, every storm, it will grow bolder, stronger....
Today it will take someone, Some day, perhaps.
Everything.
Vignette,
You wake slowly, still groggy, but not hurting. You're on HM's bed, still clothed. He's not here. Your vision's a little blurry, but you're okay.
Some music is playing on a small tape deck on the dresser. It's the same song you sang that night.
And HM didn't lay a finger on you. There's something about him, Vignette. Something odd. You just can't lay a finger on it. You decide if that's something intriguing or scary, it is what it is though. You take +1 Ongoing with any Move directly against HM. Until the tables are turned.
What do you do?
Where are my family? I need to get us moving quickly.
"Boeing, we are in danger... Let's get people out of here. Help me round folks up."
Gates,
Boeing heads off to help gather people together. You're able to get your flock in earshot, most of HM's people, his prostitutes and guards. HM's absent, though. So is Vignette.
I see nothing but white. For a moment, I do not know where I am. Slowly, my eyes focus, and I realize it is white fabric. I am lying down. The field of white is a pillow… Pillow! It all comes flooding back. Well, not all of it. Oh…flood… I reach under the sheets frantically (yes, frantically–I am not as strong as her), expecting to find that I am naked. I am not. And Harbormaster's is not dead beside me. Or beside me at all. A puzzle. So. Much. Drink. I wait for the wave of skull-crushing headache and nausea, but it does not come. I reach out with my mind first. Where have all the others gone? Where are Gates’ people? I cannot sense them nearby. My ears are slower. Music. That song… THAT song! I leap from the bed, grab the machine making the music, and throw it to the ground, smash it to– NO! No, I do not. Can not. I hug the machine to my chest. My knees give out, and I sink to the floor. I throw back my head and let loose a wail of anguish, then crumple, rocking back and forth, clutching the music machine.
Vignette,
HM enters the room from the hallway, quickly moving to check on you. He seems surprised by your anguish, and while he isn't weeping with concern, he asks, "Vignette, do you need anything? I had a feeling you would like that... I'm sorry I was wrong."
What do you do?
Harbormaster’s entrance brings me back to the here and now. I push buttons on the machine until the music stops.
“It is fine. I am fine,” I say without looking up. I do not think I sound very convincing. “Where is everyone?”
Gates,
You see Valentine heading this way. Ze's accompanied by a few people from SafeCo.
Valentine,
When you get to the boat, you see Gates addressing his flock, several of HM's workers and his guards. Latte is here, she sees you and gives a nod. HM is not here, though.
Vignette,
"Do you want the music machine, Vignette?" HM asks, his tone predatory. "If you promise to work for me, not him, it's yours. I want you, Vignette. In lots of ways. But first and foremost, I want what you can do. I see Admiral fears you. I know they all do. I don't. I want to be near you, make your life worth living. I'd like to give you Home, Vignette.... but first, do you want the music machine?"
Arrogant bloody splasher! Offering me a home. Like I need him to give me a home!
My eyes flash to the darkness under the chair where my coat hangs. Spider backs away, moving deeper into the shadows.
Traitor vermin. I am fine on my own. I have more than offering my life to the noodle shop woman–whose name is Kites, by the way–a thing I know because she has forgiven me.
…
No, it is not true that Cujo is the only one. Some of the others want me around, maybe–and I would not be there if Dog did not want it. I do not need a “home” from this man with snake eyes.
Spider falls silent, unconvinced, I think. In that silence, the Harbormaster’s offer of the music machine sinks in.
“How?” I turn and yell at Harbormaster. I hold the machine up like evidence of treachery. “How do you have this machine that plays this song? Why?” I am on my feet now. I catch a glimpse of myself in a polished chrome cabinet–like the glassless mirrors in some parts of Safeco. My white-blonde hair is a mess, sticking up all over. My black eye makeup is streaked down my face. You say you do not fear me? Tell me why you have this," I yell, holding up the machine, “or I will show you why everyone fears me.”
Vignette,
HM gives a hint of a smile, "You will?" He doesn't seem fearful, just a bit amused. "A beautiful woman with dark hair like the night and pale skin, not unlike yours, she taught me the song. I was a young man then, Vignette. But even a young man knows when to value something precious."
HM walks over to you, not quick and dangerous, but confidently, holding your eyes with his, He reaches for your face, a hand to your cheek -- You're holding the music machine, do you pull away? "When she... when she went away, I searched everywhere for the song. And I don't give up easy, Vignette. It's yours, if you'll work for me, not him. He doesn't need to know. As long as we know."
What do you do?
As I finish up explainin' the situation to folks, that we need to move, and now, I see Valentine.
"Okay, all y'all, we gotta get a move on if we don't want a nice, red bath. Can I get an Amen?"
After the Amen, I jog over to Val. I'm definitely happy to see zir. "Valentine. Good day to you, friend. I'm tryin' to get folks movin' before the rains or somethin' worse comes. Don't see Vignette, though. Any idea where she might be?"
I have spent my life tortured by the fear I see in people's eyes when they look at me. Now, there's this man who does not fear me. It enrages me that this man, of everyone, acts amused by my threats while other shrink from my glance... Part of me wants to shred his mind just to show him I can, make him know his mistake and feel fear before his life drains out in a trickle of blood from his ears and nose and eyes.
I am not that. As much as I deserve to be, after all these years, I am not the thing people fear that I am. Their belief cannot make me be that. I could. In an instant, I could make myself that. I will not. I am not that.
It is not enough for this man to flaunt his not-fear. He speaks of her, she who has lived only inside my mind since I was a child. There are no pictures. There is no reminiscing with Daddy. Harbormaster uses the words, "when she went away", and an old, familiar hope flares up, one I thought I smothered long ago. I want to ask him if she's alive, plead with him for her to be alive. It is stupid, a child's hope, a terrible, hurtful lie. Daddy told it first, said that she went away. The echo of that lie in Harbormaster's words is almost too much to bear. She couldn't have. She wouldn't have. She was taking me with her. She wouldn't have left me to become...what Daddy made me. But if she did not... If she did not, then she is really forever-gone.
He reaches out for my cheek in an echo or twisted mockery of my last moment with her. No one touches me like that. Not Daddy, not the man Fortyfour, no one. Just her...who never will again.
I lose all control. I cannot focus my mind to lash out and destroy his. My hands are not smart enough to raise the music machine as a bludgeon to smash his grinning face to pulp. Instead, I lunge at him, a feral creature attacking with nails and teeth. But on the way there, the wave of rage and pain crests and I am deluged by a deep sadness, a bottomless sense of loss. I fall upon the Harbormaster, not as a creature of teeth and talons, but as a hurt, grieving young girl, so alone for so long. I throw my arms around his neck, press my already wet eyes into his chest and scream, scream until I regain enough of myself to merely sob.
I raise a hand to Latte. I should speak with her, to see how I can best help this move, perhaps to discern why Harbormaster wants me here, in this rotting place.
"Friend Gates, you're a swwet sight for sore eyes. But we've just arrived and I haven't seen Vignette." I glance at the boat. "I've not yet been inside."
Making sure none of the Harbor people overhear, I lean closer to say, "And I, too, am worried about something worse than rain. Have you any clue about what is really going on?" I'm asking in earnest. Those words might be misunderstood.
I shake my head. Both in answer to Val as well as in concern for Vignette. "No idea, but it ain't good. I got a feelin' in my bones."
I pause to think and then tell Valentine to hold on a for a sec. I jog over to QuePasa. "Que... we're gonna check up on Vignette before we head out. Could you get folks movin'? Shouldn't be a minute, just don't want to leave her here when the storm comes. We'll catch up fast as the sun after a drizzle."
Turning my attention back to Val, I ask "You want to come in with me? See where Vignette is? Got a funny feelin' about it."
A wry grin with little amusement. "If you've got a funny feeling, sir, then that's no laughing matter for our Vignette." I take Gates' intuition seriously.
The boats, the muck, the shaky bridges, the huddled masses. I peer at it all. "This move is more than I expected; the master of this harbor is in dire straits indeed. I don't like him, you know." Gates, your ear is meant for confidence. "How would you handle him, walking in my boots?"
I knew this question was comin'. If not from Val, from someone. Wicked men tend to make enemies, fast if they're stupid, slow if they're smart. HM is smart, but his time to make enemies is here. And I seen the way Val looks at him. Sizin' him up. She's with me on this, I know it.
I start to speak, slowly, mulling over each word. "Well... when the Lord saw what wicked men had done to the temple, he went and overturned the tables, raised hell. Scared 'em right off."
I think a little. "But, then again, the Lord got himself crucified for his trouble not too long after that, so we know how that ended up."
Another pause to think. "Now, the Lord knew he could raise himself up from the dead after three days, so he had a little insurance, but unless you've got an ace like that up yer sleeve, I tend to think you might seek to take a more subtle approach with the wicked men o' this world than the Lord did."
A final pause. "You and I, we seen this here shambles HM's place is in. He's a king with a paper crown. But he's still a king for the time bein'. So you keep him close, for now. But folks like you and I? We start looking for when we can overturn those tables. Maybe keep an eye out for some other folks who might see things our way. Cause there's a few people, I think, who could make this whole darn place somethin' better if they had a little more power." I give Val a knowing look, the kind that leaves no doubt I'm talkin' about zir.
"You hear me? If you don't, that's fine. Then I didn't say nothin'. But if you do, then it's somethin' to mull over. Keep 'em close and happy, find some allies, then make a move."
exp+1, Val gets +1 forward on a roll that follows my advice.
Vignette,
HM holds you tight, lets you scream, muffles your voice with his chest, doesn't say anything about your mascara streaked tears on his fine shirt. Hell, he even rubs your back, soft but not sexy. "I'm sorry she's gone. Your mother was a treasure. I only knew her a little, but every little was amazing."
After a moment, when your screams subside, he says low in your ear, "If it hurts too much, you let me know. Home is all you need to make the pain go away."
What do you do?
I meet Gates' eye and somehow manage to look sly, surprised, and include a tint of a blush at the implied praise. Who hasn't thought about running SafeCo? Admiral won't live forever.
The space of two long breaths pass as we walk.
"This place is not safe. Not for its clients, not for its workers, not for its masters. How desperate for the caress of flesh, fine as it be, must one be to brave this muck?" I kick aside a rust-bloody can that barely makes a noise as it sticks in the scummy bloody soil. The wind is ruffling my coat and I draw it tighter.
I meet his eyes. "I'm glad we are allies in this matter, sir. There must be a dry path for us - for all of us- to walk." I pause, considering. "Have you met Latte before? She's kin to the current master of this Harbor."
I shake my head. "Seen her around, but never had the pleasure. I'd be happy to be introduced, though, if you want to do the honors. Maybe we'll have stuff to chew on."
I glance back inside, a bit nervous. "What's say you and I go see if we can't find Vignette before we get a move on outta here?"
Turning back inside, I give a call. "Hey, Vignette? You in there? We're headin' out. Maybe you can join us. Storm's rollin' in. Better to move."
Vignette,
Hearing Gates calling for you, HM says gently, "Wait here for a moment, I'll talk with Gates. You should compose yourself, Vignette. No need to seem weak in front of them."
Gates and Valentine,
This takes place after Vignette woke and screamed.
You see HM come down the hall from his room in response to your calls for Vignette.
"Gates," HM says smoothly. "Vignette is fine. We had a few drinks, then she, well, she decided it was a bit much for her, took a nap. You can go on with your work, please. We need to go. Right?"
What do you do?
First, gonna read the sitch.
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 3, 4. Total: 8)
Well don't this just smell like it's been left out in the rain, eh?
"That's definitely correct. We have to get outta here. Why don't we wake up Vignette and we can all get a move on. You too, HM. Rain's comin'."
What's my best way past HM (to get to Vignette effectively)?
[OOC: rolling to help Gates. Roll+Hx.]
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 3, 3. Total: 8)
I crack a thumb knuckle, once. "We all needs must go, Harbormaster. Who of your people are left? What other necessary sundries must you take? What can you leave?" If there is a nearby window, I will look at the clouds and judge our time. If I sound bossy and in control, that's fine.
Gates and Valentine,
HM holds up his hands, "I don't disagree, we need to go. As soon as possible. I've got three customers who are otherwise occupied and paid for an hour. Let's pack everyone else up. I'll stay behind with them, we can come back for their things. The storm is coming."
Gates, you can walk right past him, HM isn't trying to stop you physically.
"Works for me, HM," I say, as I stroll past him casually, with a bit of a smile. "Let me just go grab Vignette, then. We got some big ol' folks here with Val and my people, maybe someone can carry her, then you don't have to troubler yourself."
Seems fair, right?
Hmm, he's providing his clients the service they paid for, which I can respect. But he's also willing to weather out this storm, which I don't fully understand. Peering out through the stippled glass porthole, I consider my own position. To honor the client's wishes or interrupt them for safety? The show must go on.
"Harbormaster, sir, if you will forgive my suspension of tact, there is also the special consideration you mentioned for my time. Surely we won't leave that behind?" Smile number four. Gates, friend, I am glad you are near in case Harbormaster's ideas grow deeper roots. My body language is subtly closed, but not offensively so.
Vignette,
You can hear, through the metal door of HM's room to the hallway, Gates and Valentine speaking with HM.
What do you do?
I crawl over to where I dropped the machine in my lunge at the Harbormaster. It looks unhurt, but I am afraid to turn it back on. For a long moment, I lie there on the floor, my fingertips inches from the machine, my eyes regarding it from floor-level like I am creeping up on a dangerous animal. Part of me wants to destroy it. Part of me wants to have it. No part of me wants the Harbormaster to have it. I feel a spike of bitter jealousy. Why would she share this song with him--with anyone but me? Dread sweeps toward me as a red tide as I remember a detail of the song on the music machine. There were no instruments. It was not a professional recording. It was a home recording of...a woman...singing that song. I scoop up the machine, cradling it in both hands. My hands are shaking so badly that I can scarcely push the buttons, but at last, I find the right one, and hear her voice. I almost drop the machine again.
Sounds from down the hall bring me back to the here and now. Gates and Valentine talk with the Harbormaster. I snap off the machine and get up off the floor. Grabbin my coat from the chair, I shove the machine deep into one of its pockets and cross to the glassless mirror in front of a steel countertop and basin. My hair is wild. My eye makeup has dried in black streaks smeared down my face. I hear Gates announcing his intent to come for me. I do not trust the water basin here, surrounded by the red, but I begin scrubbing my face with a cloth, looking for a bit of clearwater if any is to be had.
Gates and Valentine,
"Be my guest, Gates," HM says as he steps out of the way and points you to his closed door. "She's right in there. Might still be asleep, I'm not sure." He turns to you, Valentine, "Lovely, I haven't forgotten you. How could I ever? Shall we sneak down to the hold so I can share my prize? Which, of course, will be yours."
I enter and look around for Vignette. Anything I should know, or do I just find her there?
Gates and Vignette,
Gates, you see Vignette washing her face in a wash basin, she looks like she's in a hurry and looks a bit distraught... or wait, can you tell?
Vignette, Gates comes in HM's bedroom. A thunder claps outside, then rolls for a half minute.
What do you do?
"Sorry to barge in on you, Vignette, but Val and I are tryin' to get everyone and everythin' outta here and we didn't want to leave you. You good to go?"
Of course, there is no clearwater, because this is the middle of frakking red nowhere. In desperation, I dump a small bit of the booze left in one of the glasses onto the cloth and wipe the worst of the black from my cheeks. I succeed in making myself smell more alcohol-soaked than I already had, and the imperfect removal of the black from my pale skin has given me the ghastly, gray look of the walking dead.
Gates enters, and I am suddenly afraid to see someone who is not the Harbormaster. I do not want Gates and the others to see me like this.
I turn from the mirror to greet Gates as he asks me if I am ready to go. Just then, thunder crashes and I flinch. I am sure I flinched.
"Yes, I will...I am...just...I will grab my coat." My voice cracks, still raw from crying, my fingers shake a little before I give up on the buttons of my coat rather than risk his seeing, and rot it, I flinched. I am sure, in that moment, with the thunder still echoing in our ears, he saw me for what I am--not the mysterious, spooky mind-frakker, but a scared, sad young girl who has been alone for a very long time.
Satisfied that Gates will see to Vignette, I nod and go back to smile number four. "Time marches ever forward, sir." I look hither and yon. "Lead on, if you will." My faded blue baseball duffel is empty, not that I'm expecting buckets of jingle, but more to help with the load. I honestly expected more knickknacks.
Valentine,
Harbormaster leads you into the crowded hold. You pass by a pair of rooms with the sounds of raw sex and pleasure leaking around the corners of closed doors. When you step into the hold proper, he pushes aside a stack of old boxes full of discarded boots and molding towels. His eyes light up as he finds what he's obviously looking for... pulls a blue tarp from atop a row of boxes. Opens the top...Valentine, what's surprising about what he shows you?
Gates and Vignette,
You both leave HM's bedroom and head back the the deck, I assume? You see Pine and Mox coming your way on a raft.
"Gates! Sir!" Mox calls with his young man voice. "Bon needs help, there are sick people in a boat near here, we need help carrying them out! She asked for you, Gates, sir."
Vignette, you notice he isn't looking at you, not out of anger, but well, he isn't asking for your help.
What do you do?
Well, heck, don't that just beat all.
The family's already started walkin', so I call out to Valentine. "Hey Valentine!? Can I borrow a few of yer friends from SafeCo? Mox here needs some help carryin' some sick folks and I can't do that all by lonesome!"
Even as I'm sayin' it, I'm wavin' Mox closer to come pick me up.
Today's a day, huh? Lord give me strength.
I leave the Harbormaster's bedroom with Gates. I have the music machine shoved deep into my coat pocket. Spider wraps its legs around the machine protectively, knowing I want the machine safe without needing my command. I am not stealing, I tell myself. I do not steal this thing. It is be mine by right--my mother's voice is on the recording in the machine. The Harbormaster has no right to it. I am not a sneakthief, though. I will pay. I will work for him. But there will be terms also. He does not own me, just like the Admiral does not own me. And I will find out how this man knows my mother. If the answer is something I do not like, I will make him know nothing and no one.
Every step from the Harbormaster's bedroom brings me a little more back to myself. As we reach the outside air, I take a deep breath, shaking off the dream shadows that cling to me. It strikes me that Gates led me out of that den of misery. Like one of the bearded god-hero people he talks about, Gates walked into the dark to get me and bring me back to the light with him. I lost myself in the Harbormaster's bedroom. What would I have done for the music machine, for my mother's voice, if Gates had not interrupted? Killed the Harbormaster? Frakked him? Either, and I would be someone different now.
The Boy Who Helps Bon does not look at me. Most children will not, but I thought the Boy Who Helps Bon might. But I am the witch of their whispered tales, yes? I will trap them with my eyes and turn them to spiders or eat them in a stew. I hear what he asks Gates. I have nothing to prove to this boy, but I would like to help Gates, if I can.
I reach out and put my hand on Gates' arm without thinking. I pull my hand back quickly, blushing deeply. People do not like my touch. This was one of the first lessons Daddy taught me. I can almost feel the crack of the stick across my knuckles. I shove my hands into my coat pockets and say to Gates, "I would like also to help these people, the ones you go to help. I cannot carry people so well, but I can help other ways, maybe...if you want my help."
I immediately feel bad for assuming Vignette wasn't gonna help. Real bad. The Lord uses folks surprisin' you to teach you lessons, though, so I guess I gotta learn somethin' from this.
"My apologies, Vignette. Of course, yer help would be much appreciated. Anything you can do would be useful. Now let's see about gettin' on that boat..."
Gates and Vignette,
"There's only a couple rafts," Pine says. The raft is about the size across of two of the pallets you brought to load things up, and it looks like it isn't built to hold a great deal of weight, might even tip over. "We can take four or so."
Mox declares, "I'm one of them. I need to get back and help Auntie Bon!"
Gates, seems like you're organizing this and getting everyone going. Why don't you tell me who you send over to the sick and who finishes loading everything up?
Vignette, it's becoming obvious to you that things are almost packed up, but there are a couple "customers" still enjoying their time. If they don't come now they're probably going to get caught in the storm. If you wait for them, good chance you are too.
Anyone who doesn't come now is probably in danger of being caught in the storm.
What do you do?
I am told that there are people "busy" frakking when they should be leaving. People seem concerned about this, a thing I find baffling. Why do we care about these people who do not care for their own safety? Gates seems to, maybe Valentine too. They are busy. I am so little use to them. But this thing I can do.
I turn to Gates and say, "I am not much help to you, carrying people, but I can round up the stragglers here."
I stride toward the "busy" rooms. I already look a little like a dead person, thanks to my khol-stained face. I throw back my hood, tease up my already wild hair, and have Spider clutching my face. I intend to burst into each of these "busy" rooms and scream inside their minds via Direct-brain whisper projection, "Get out! Now! If the red does not end you, I will!"
OOC: I don't intend to hurt anyone--the red will do that if they really can't be swayed--but a shout inside their minds should make them take notice if my general creepiness does not. If someone forces my hand, I'll just leave them to their fate. I also see this as just a single DBWP/GoAggo, not one per room, unless that's what you want. I have weird highlighted, so it would be like XP pinball, which doesn't seem right, nor the excessive rollage.
Vignette
Think we custom move this thing. Let's see if they get the message.
When a brainer throws her mind around haphazardly into the minds of others and gets all scary (or sexy, or any kind of thing) on them, roll+weird.
On a 10+ they get the message. On a 7-9 they get the message but pick one. On a fail expect the worst.
• Someone fights back or gets so freaked out they get violent
• Someone called your bluff and you leave them bleeding, broken, or worse
• Someone reacts without reason and puts herself in danger
Hit the dice!
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 3, 4. Total: 9)
Marking XP (2).
Vignette
You burst into the rooms, little more than small berths, only a few paces across each and closed by thin doors and heavy drapes thick with the musty scent of old perfume and recent sex.
The first two clients, (we'll call them clients, to be polite,) recoil, shocked at your appearance and unsure if your lips really moved. They rise, gather their things, give a final kiss or two... or three. But they get the message. It's time to go.
But the last.
He must have heard the commotion as when you throw open his door he's already on his feet. He's naked from the waist up and as you meet his eyes you see a wild look in him that would frighten the average person and his mind is all flashes of panic and regret.
"Get away! Just get the flood away!" he slashes a broad-bladed knife wildly through the air not really at you, but towards you to keep you away. He looks for a way out and his muddled mind can't find one... his eyes land on spider and his lip curls into a grimace of fear.
His hired lover, a pretty little slip of a man not a day over twenty flees the room, pushing roughly past you naked but for a bundle of his belongings quickly gathered under his arm.
In panic, the guy goes to the small porthole and starts wrenching on the tarnished handle with one hand, brandishing his blade with the other as if daring you to come closer. The glass is caked in deep, storm-driven red. He wrenches at the age-frozen handle and smashes at the glass with the butt of his knife.
A spray of red starts to seep, and then pour in around the glass to stain the wall below the porthole, his hands and chest red as fresh blood.
What do you do?
Bloody flood, I have a cornered mouse more scared to run past me than he is of the bloody water. I turn to exit the room.
"Follow me, unless you want to take a dip in the red," I say turning to leave. As I am walking out the door, I add without turning around, "Leave the knife or I will make you eat it."
I shout to Gates over my shoulder, "Aye, sir! Tell Needle and Grunge I said to lend a hand!" then descend into the hold, smelling its patina of sweat and ardour. At least the master masks it with incense and the odd lonely-looking flower. They are rare enough I must touch one's petals with a fingertip. The thunder makes me start and I catch up to the man in front.
The tarp reveals the "extra something" he wants to offer me. I'm on guard, not knowing what to expect, but what surprises me the most is that the thing is actually lit up and working. It's a music machine, a small one. My mother told me about these, her grandfather had one. "My word! Is that what I think it is? Can it really play different musics for weeks?" How did he find such a thing that works? I itch to take it.
Valentine,
HM nods, "It does. And lights up. It will play all the silvery discs. I have nearly a hundred of them. Wouldn't it be a wonderful addition to the Yacht Club?" He slips over near you, a hand almost touching the small of your back, but he holds it near without actually touching. "A present. Freely given, no strings, other than you coming here to help and see it. We can be excellent partners, Valentine. Don't you think?"
Thunder claps again, the ship shudders a little and HM flinches, his hand drawn back to his side as he looks around with nervous eyes.
What do you do?
The casual display of wealth, of means, of great-scott-he-just-had-this-treasure-in-a-moldy-box, takes me aback. I almost lean into his hand, clammy it may be, I sense his skill with working flesh. "And the discs?" The thing sits in my hands, its strange angles and curves alien and somehow familiar.
Slowly nodding, I start, "This is true marvel, Harbormaster. I am extremely appreciative and both delighted and excited to hear-" The thunder interrupts, and I note his jump. I keep my sea legs with the boat's shudder.
With urgency, I say, "We should leave." I drop some politenesss, but it can't be helped. The small music machine disappears into my duffel. I cast about for the trove of discs with my eyes, but I'm poised to leave.
Valentine,
HM reaches past you, brushing against you ever so slightly as he does. He pulls a small leatherette case, which he hands to you. It is full of the discs. He offers a quick smile, then walks with you out of the hold and up towards the deck.
Vignette
The man doesn't follow you out of the room. Seems he's as scared of you as the red.
You did promise Gates you'd get everyone out, right?
What do you do?
The case, heavy with sounds of the past that I dearly want to cherish, vanishes into my duffel next to the sleek music machine. I unconsciously inhale as Harbormaster passes by. Are his moves deliberately calculated or instinctive? My smile is automatic, a smaller version of number two, hurriedly shown then folded away. It's time to move.
One last look around this room, wondering at the contents boxes he's leaving, and then I head to the deck and the open air. The storm's nearness is pulling away my words. I can smell the change in the wind. Where's Gates and the rest of the crew? I put eyes out for Needle and Grunge- nobody will be left behind.
The man with the knife is back there in the sex room, cornered by the idea of me, while redwater pours in. Honestly? He can rotting drown for all I care. The sound of my boots as I stride down the hall and out onto the deck of this ramshackle boat is a rhythmic rot-you, rot-you, rot-you...
As I walk out onto the deck, though, I can see Gates on one of those precarious skiffs, headed out across the water to save more people--people more deserving than this rotter. I think of Gates, risking his life to bring these people back, and of Bon already out there, probably having to touch them. I had one job, and that was to bring these rotters out alive. How can I look Gates and Bon in the eye if I don't manage to do even that?
Flood! I turn around and stomp back toward Knife Guy's room. I stop outside the room for a moment, pull down my hood and try to de-crazy for a moment. I instruct Spider to stay out of sight. As soon as Spider's hidden, I walk into the room, slowly, with my hands open, non-threatening.
"Hello. You and I got started off on the wrong foot. I am here to get everyone out of the boat, not to hurt you. If you follow me, you will not drown here, and I can get you medical attention so you do not die from redwater. I will not hurt you if you put that knife down. I say this all in a soft, pleasant voice. I even smile.
Valentine,
You come up past Vignette to witness her standing in a room with a cowering man holding a knife. It sounds almost like he's afraid of her? And she's talking sweetly to him.
Vignette,
By the time you came back down, he threw on a shirt. You hear another crack of thunder, and his eyes bulge a little when you flinch at it. You hear someone behind you, in the hall.
The scared man screams, "Soak you! I'll swim it, just get away!"
What do you do?