[Fury] Field Trip, Pack Your Lunch (Aug, Bon, Gat, Vig 6.1)

Rich

August and Gates,
You gather your menageries together, all nine of Gates' flock along with the twenty of so members of Grindhouse. Is there a performance tonight, August? Anyone you leave behind?

How are your people armed, Gates? QuePasa wants Ghost to stay behind, but she's defiant about coming along, says she knows medicai stuff now, she can help.


"Father Gates," Jones asks in his drawl, "I heat they're haints and spooks inna forest. Will the good Lord protect us?"

Bon and Vignette,

You ride in Vignette's big SUV with her three lieutenants. Your former driver, Ra Ra, wasn't around, so Wash is driving, Jax is up front, with Hamilt squeezed in between them.


After a few minutes, Jax calls back, "Bosslady, a bunch of people ahead, all Pikers. Want us to ride past?"

All,

You're coming upon the outskirts of the forest. The huge trees stand tall and lush against the pocked ground under you. There's a thick underbrush, like a fence, running the edge of the shade of those tall trees.

What do you do?

toddnicholas

Armin' ourselves is always a bit of a... conundrum. The family tend not to carry weapons, to be honest. Just a few little things fer self defense. But we do have some weapons. Just like not to use 'em. So a few folks have a pistol or two they got from a previous life they saw fit to hang onto jus' in case. Most folks got blades or bats or that sort o' thing.

I turn to Jones as he asks his question.

"Well, the Lord says he works in mysterious ways. I don't ever assume he's gonna protect me. I jus' pray he does and thank 'em if he follows through. But he's a complicated fella dealin' with a complicated world, like movin' pieces on ten different games o' chess, at once, you know.

I think for a second, about his question.

"I do believe our cause is righteous, though. And I believe the Lord likes a righteous cause. Let's hope I'm right."

slickhop

I arm the Grindhouse crew with whatever firearms I picked up for the jingle I dropped in Pike, so a handful or so have shoddy pistols. Townie has his magnum and Kites has her sawed-off.

Sure, Riesling and Arkansas are already missing. Queen Anne ain't going anywhere, ever, basically. Frette stays to mind Six and Dollface has a peepshow to run. So what is there, a dozen or so of us? There's no proper show tonight and whatever everyone is rubbing on their gums today has got them feeling far more fearless than they should. I could worry about them, but something about what Gates said earlier has got me filled with a certain quiet conviction that this is the right course.

"Stay close to me, you hear me?" I end up saying to Ghost while she's over re-acquainting herself with Drumma. Then, on reflection, I amend that to, "Unless I go and do something stupid, in which case you oughta stay near Gates."

When Jones gets to talking to the preacher, I think back to what Dog said when the Arrows went rustling in the forest for whatever. I throw in, "Some of the trees there don't stay still, you know? So don't let anyone go bumping into anything til you hit it with a stick. And make sure it doesn't hit you back."

When I see the Pikers, I say, "I think I see Bon there ahead. And our Witch too. Excuse us," I say to Jones, and after I make sure Gates is holding on, I rev my h-bikes engine, pulling her up beside Vignette's ride.

"Well if it isn't Trouble and her friends," I say with a grin. I haven't seen either of these two since the night of the party. I leave it up to them to decide who I'm calling 'Trouble.'

John

"Yes. Trouble all around," I mutter in response to August to hide my confusion. Bon's not trouble, and I do not have friends...but maybe August does not know that. I wonder if she thinks her followers are friends. I wonder if she's right.

"I do not wish to feed everyone we know to the forest today," I say loudly, gesturing to Gates' family and the Grindhouse crew. I want to be heard over the engines, but I also am hoping some of what I say sinks in to these people overhearing. "We go to negotiate with a forest--whatever that means. Fire and steel will not help us."

trevis

Something in me flips, excited, when August pulls up. I cannot help but smile at her, basking in her familiar and energetic presence. I wonder when I can tell her how thoughts of her have helped me these past days.

I chuckle. "Here is the lake calling the river red, I think." and wink at her.

I say it before Vignette speaks up about not feeding everyone to the forest, when she does that my aspect grows more serious as I look out over the assembled people. It is quite a few.

"Vignette is right. I think it best that we attempt to talk with the forest and negotiate before taking more drastic action. The four of us together, I think, may have some chance of communicating with it."

slickhop

I twist to look back at Gates, wondering what he'll say. "We go to claim those of ours that the forest has swallowed," I say, by means of an explanation, mood sobering.

toddnicholas

I nod to August. "We're just here to help, friend. Well, that and some o' the forest folk seem to want us very, very, dead, so if we happen to get to the bottom o' that, I ain't complain'. Mostly, though, we help."

trevis

"The direct address of all these things is to talk first." I say, nodding to Gates. "And I can think of none more persuasive than the two of you. Perhaps we four go ahead and the others wait for us here?" I look at Vignette, put an hand on her shoulder in reflexive reaction of comfort to her expression of tension.

slickhop

I look from Caesar to Perrone. To Gates' family. To Ra-Ra, to Constance. Back to Bon and Vignette.

I shake my head. "They have the right to look for their friends." I reach back, put my hand on Gates' thigh, look over my shoulder again to catch his eye. Ask him quietly, "You can bring them back from the brink, right? If need be?" One or two, I know I can convince to drop their arms. But the lot of them, with Gates' fire in their belly? I'm not so sure.

John

I miss half of what August says because I'm still reacting to Bon's putting her hand on my shoulder. You would think that I would be transformed by the acceptance that the Arrows have shown me in recent months--first Dog, then Cujo--who showed me rather more than acceptance, even some of the other Arrows have been friendly. I suppose it says something awful about my childhood that a simple, friendly touch, done without hesitation or fear, has such an impact on me. I reach up with one hand and briefly touch her fingers on my shoulder. I saw someone do this once. It seemed very natural. Part of me expects Bon to flinch away from my touch, but she does not. In that brief touch, I get a sense of her--the kindness that leads her to try and comfort me, even as she is weighed down by the weight of the marks on her flesh. With the self-recrimination there, for events she could not control, it is a wonder she can spare comfort for me, who has knowingly done harm.

From what I do catch of what August said, it seems clear that the mob will not be dissuaded. I could try to find the leaders and try to change their minds--forcibly... But I do not do that anymore--not lightly anyway--and I will need all my strength for dealing with the forest.

Rich

All,

So it is clear, these folks, Gates' and August's, they are riled up. They impatiently wait even now, voices murmuring worry that time is being wasted here, that they need to find Riesling now. Convincing them to stop and go home will not be simple.

toddnicholas

I look around at the folk with us. Got their blood up. I get it. But August ain't wrong. Talkin' is always a first recourse.

Quietly, I say to her "I believe all folks can be brought back from the brink. Question is do they want to come back. Some do, some don't. Guess we're gonna find out what kinda sitch this is shortly, ain't we?

slickhop

Inwardly, Gates' words fill me with a stomach-churning unease. Outwardly, my lips twitch into a uncertain smile. "Guess we're gonna have to, huh?"

To Bon and Vignette, louder, "We'll talk them down if we need to. For now, let's keep moving. Every moment we wait is more time for the forest to swallow our friends."

Rich

All,

The ride through the eastern edge of Pike is often treacherous, but today it’s quiet enough to have everyone glancing back and forth and a little bit on edge. It’s almost like Pike holds its breath as you pass and only exhales once you’re gone and the remains of once-golden streets are again empty.

It’s like that all the way to the edge of the woods. Bon, you were here not so long ago but already you can feel how different it is. Nothing is quite the same. That spot where you hacked your way through is again overgrown and the whole forest seems to have encroached further into the city. Which is impossible of course as it’s only been what… a couple weeks?

Tendrils of deep green shimmer in the light and hang from nearby rooftops as bright green new growth spring from the broken asphalt to reach for the canopy beyond.
There’s no way to bring the bikes and trucks, so you proceed on foot. At first boots crunch through broken pavement and gravel, then to a layer of dirt and then a soft peat-like moss covers everything and each step sinks an inch or a few into the forgiving forest floor. It would feel nice if it didn’t also threaten to swallow you down. Ghost takes care to step only on the roots and stones for fear of losing her footing and sinking in.

Nobody makes fun of her.

The shade feels good, a gentle breeze on your face and a cool dewy mist hangs in the air. It’s quiet and the light cast everything in an unnatural verdant hue.

August, Drumma flies up to a branch and perches, calling its weird song out, announcing your arrival. The sound bounces dully through the trees and you swear you hear something moving, not sure where. Eerie quiet, no other animal noises. You feel like intruders. Encroaching something alien. Unwanted.

If someone’s been here then it shouldn’t be too hard to find their path. Footprints cast deep in the spongy moss and seem to last for some time. You just need to find the trail.

What do you do?

slickhop

The forest, as always, feels huge and encompassing. Humbling. Gates can have his church if I can have this cathedral.

When I'm looking for tracks, I get an idea. I hold up a hand for silence to the others and cry back to Drumma, mimicking the strange noise she makes. I watch the underbrush, looking for the source of whatever is moving.

slickhop

Reading the sitch.
(Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 4, 3. Total: 7)

slickhop

What should I be on the lookout for here?

John

I have been here before. I came here to find Spider. And its predecessor. I let Spider crawl out and perch on my neck, where it curves into my shoulder. Maybe it will remind the forest that we are not strangers.

I am drawn to this place in a way I do not like. It is so peaceful here. A large, deep presence, so unlike the mental cacophony of Pike and SafeCo. It would be so easy to sink into the silence and never return.

trevis

I am trying to keep my eyes everywhere at once. Check on everyone that I can see. Small starts of panic well within me when I lose someone behind a tree, quelling a little when they reappear and starting all over again when someone else is obscured. I check Vignette, August, Gates, Ghost and the others in turn. I have touched almost all of them at one time or another.

The foreboding seems to grow with every step further into the wood. When August stops and motions us to silence to call to Drumma, I stop to watch. I need some grounding, a hand against mine, two if possible. Vignette and Gates are the closest, so I take hold of each of them.

Gates has always projected a strong, solid presence which helps a great deal. Vignette has been more closed, but her earlier reaction to my touch in the truck was so tentative... I do not think she get's touched often. I who have purposefully avoided such contact for years, except professionally, and only now realized my own craving...how can I deny it to her? If she is not an Arrow, she is at least one of our extended family, whether she realizes it or not. I am, however, thankful, that her pet is on her other side.

Rich

August,

Above and below. You hear things in the branches up high, and you've been told about what happened to Sounder with the roots. Really, you need to be on the lookout for this place seeing you as a threat.

Do not steal from the forest.

Rich

All,

A hush falls over the two score who traveled here full of righteous fury to retrieve their lost lamb, and now, the trees loom over you, the canopy of their leaves shading you from the world, their branches tangled above you like joined hands.

Hundreds of eyes are felt about you and the presence of something immense and powerful.

Bon, you find yourself distracted by August. Though Vignette's desire for touch is a nagging thought in your brain, August is here, too. August, who awoke this fire in you, brought you the freedom of your own passions, or at least helped you unlock them. She's in mortal danger here, like you are, too. How close are you to her now?

August, the people of the Grindhouse are drawn to Gates in a way they've never responded to you. Even Townie has drifted over to walk nearer to him. How's that strike you?

Gates, so many lives, so much danger here. You've heard the tales of those who venture here and never return. All for Riesling, a girl who never stepped foot in your church, never spoke a word to you. A mighty thing you risk for her. When QuePasa gives you that look, that are you sure about this? look she gives when nobody is watching, how do you take it?

After a half hour of roaming, trying to find pathways, signs of your lost friend, you hear rustling in the woods. A cloaked man steps out from behind a sycamore tree. It's Rain.

He crosses his arms and leans against the tree. His feet are bare, covered with earth, his clothes are dripping wet, as is his hair. "Well, well. Whatever is it that brings you here after rejecting the Forest for so long?"

What do you do?

trevis

Perhaps not as close as you might expect. To be honest, I am still sorting it all out. Over the years I have had others confess the details of their personal relationships. I have been an ear for many Arrows past and present, offering a balm to the spirit as well as the body. And for all that time I have been able to offer perspective from a cool distance. I never considered that I would be navigating the same waters myself. I might say I was confident, if distantly regretful, that I would never do so. Now...

In some of those conversations, my friends have mentioned when things suddenly became awkward. It is so with August just now. At least for me. She seems as composed and beautiful as ever. It seems impossible that I am in her awareness as much as she is in mine. It is ungrateful for me to complain even the slightest bit about what is surely one of the most intense experiences I have ever had. I know she wants to go to the deep place and she uses the pinnacle of pleasure to bring her there. But...I do not like that place. I am not comfortable there. It does not compel me. Her choice to go there when we were together...it felt like it burst a moment where I wanted to be her whole world. The balance of want seems dramatically unequal between us. Probably it is just the many years of self-denial unbalancing my humors to an unfortunate degree and distorting my perspective.

It is all so selfish of me. I do not ask people to be other than their nature.

I have mentioned my sudden passion for touch and it is still quite strong. Some of my former habit has returned in that I didn't wish to burden either of the wonderful women I have been recently close to with my near-constant craving. In truth, had I not been so busy recently myself, it would have been more difficult to ride out my bouts of jealousy and possessiveness over both of them. Though it is not to say it was easy. I was more than a little terse with Admiral, knowing he had been with August. The feeling makes me feel weak and a little ashamed. I know that neither Dog or August work that way. And I know that while their love is not a limited resource to be used up, attention and time both are. And I want an unseemly amount of both from each of them.

August and I have not had much opportunity to talk, really. Though I probably would not discuss it, anyway, it being my own malady and not her fault. I have returned to the pile for at least a couple of nights, though August has been busy with her group of performers from Pike and I have been busy with the red-sickness on the rise and Admiral's request.

Her presence draws me as much as ever. Now, confronted by Rain, who was described to me, I let go of my companions and step forward, just next to August. I touch her shoulder with a hand and speak out firmly and with as much calm as I can muster to the... envoy?

"I am Bon. And we have come to parlay, to humbly apologize for wrongs done in ignorance, and to understand. And we worry for loved ones that have come here. Do you speak for the forest?"

slickhop

Nothing then, just the forest stretching its legs, eh? I shrug. The last time I was here, when I nursed Drumma back to health, I left unscathed, but it would be cocky to assume that I could do so again.

Gates' power over them is different than mine, yes. But who am I to fault them for falling under his spell? I've felt the surety of his words in my gut. And even though I know that it is his resolve I feel, not my own, I still welcome its steel in my belly. Townie loves me, the others something on the way to love, but it is not some limited feeling. There is enough to share. If I'm honest, there is a part of me that wants to claim Gates still, win him to my bed, even though he's made his disinterest clear. But I tell myself that I can be close with him, friends even, without it. And perhaps there is a sweet charge to it for the lack of anything more.

When Rain appears, my mouth starts to twist into an unintentional sneer, and it is good that Bon steps up beside me. My face resets itself, my arm snakes out to hold her warmth against me, an anchor.

"We miss our friends." The steel is there, waiting, but I'll let Bon try her way first.

toddnicholas

When QuePasa gives me that look, I move closer to her and whisper: "Rejoice with me, for I have found my lost sheep." She'll understand. The Lord said that when one sheep goes running off, you risk the others to find the one. In the same way, the Lord rejoices when one saves a sinner.

That means that when August or anyone asks for our help findin' their friend, we do it. QuePasa knows that, she's just smarter n' I am and that makes her more cautious.

I stay quiet when Rain comes out, though, temptin' as it is to give him a piece o' my mind. This is August's show, at least for now.

toddnicholas

I ain't stupid, though. I do take a look around...

Readin' the sitch.

(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 3, 1. Total: 5)

EXP+1

slickhop

I hear Gates step on a twig behind me, so I turn to give him a Look, using a brief gesture in warning that encompasses the threat in the trees and on the ground.

slickhop

Assisting Gates.

(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 1, 6. Total: 8)

John

As we enter the forest, my consciousness flows out, riding on the waves of thought around me. The minds of those around me are bright sparks of fear and determination, like tiny fish darting in the sunlit shallows, while the forest...the presence of the forest is the deep water beyond the reef--cloudy, ominous, immense. With difficulty, I draw my attention away from the deep and seek out the minds of Gates and August and Bon. Bon takes my hand, and for a moment, I almost lose my bearings. Bon's conflicted feelings are the equal of any crowd of other people. I blush deeply, feeling as if I have intruded upon her privacy, though I honestly have not intended to do so. For all that, her hand is welcome. Always before, I have come to the forest alone, trying to remain unnoticed. This seeking out of the forest makes me nervous.

I sense Rain before I see him. I sense--or imagine I sense--a stirring in the deep, sleepy consciousness of the forest. As August and Bon step forward, I see Gates looking around. I do not know how to convey what I sense. There is a religious verse... Maybe putting it in similar terms will help Gates understand. I whisper to him, "The danger...is it not just in the forest--it is of the forest."

John

Helping Gates: (Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 4, 5. Total: 10)

toddnicholas

I'm really wonderin'... what should we be on the lookout fer here? Everythin' sure can't be as it seems...

Rich

Gates and Vignette,

Rain is the figurehead, but there are things moving in the forest, animals or creatures surrounding you even now. Some are in the trees, but there are several figures, two-footed things, moving as well. If this turns violent, it will be ugly.

All,

Rain observes everyone, all the Grindhouse players and Gates' flock, marking them with his eyes, before he looks to you, Bon, then you, August, his eyes unwavering, "Your friend is deeper in the forest. Healthy. Happy. I am entrusted to lead you to them, where all of you are welcome. There is food there. Clearwater, too. Come with me." He beckons you towards a path, starts to walk on it. It wasn't there moments earlier.

What do you do?

toddnicholas

Well shit. I really hate this asshole. I mean, my mama told me not to hate anyone, and the Lord has a pretty "turn the cheek" understandin' o' the world that I try to follow, but this guy is really pushin' me to the limit o' that. He's just so damn smug and now he's makin' magical roads appear in the woods as he promises things...

All I'm sayin' is one time the Lord wandered in the wilderness and someone performed tricks and promised him things while he was out there, n' we all remember who that was.

Guess we got no choice. We came this far. I look to August and give a slight nod. Then to QuePasa, mostly just to see how she's reactin' to all this.

trevis

“Like a bullet” I say “Easy to go in, not so easy to come out again.” I slide away from August’s grasp, taking her hand instead and at the nod from Gates, starting forward again, after Rain.

It is more dangerous, no doubt, to dive further in, but I would rather be near our lost people and the supplies we wish if this thing truly turns for the worse.

Rich

Your memory of the woods is that of clinging wet and claustrophobic spaces between monstrously large trees which seem to want to block your way. But somehow as soon as Rain turns to walk there just seems to be a way. The path beneath his feet just a bit surer than before although you sure as hell didn’t see anything change. Something has. The air feels just a bit clearer, like letting go of a held breath.

Nervous glances pass between the members of your expedition. Wary of following in this man’s footsteps through this place.


“Don’t believe a word of it,” mutters QuePasa to nobody in particular as she briefly catches your eye, Gates.

Rain leads you past a number of impossibly tall trees, laying a hand gently on this branch or that trunk as he passes. His touch is gentle and lingers like the forest itself can feel it. Ghost nervously glances at each place he’s touched as she passes, but seems to be unable to find anything remarkable. The party travels by ones and twos, unwilling or afraid to step outside the path blazed by the one you all reluctantly follow.

After what seems like miles, Rain pauses at the edge of a verdant clearing. You hear the sound of water falling over stones, like the quiet time after a storm when the rains clear out and return to the earth. But the water here smells pure and clear, none of the bloody filth that surrounds where humanity continues to survive.

“They are very lucky,” says Rain without turning. Those in back strain to hear, “That the Forest is forgiving. Very lucky… just like all of you.” Rain walks ahead again and as you follow into the clearing you finally know where your lost friends have wandered to.

Riesling leans against the twisted roots of a great ruddy-colored tree, her head back against the slightly springy bark with one arm draped over a great living root and the other held up to the sky like she’s reaching for the sun. It’s only been a handful of hours, probably, but somehow the soft mosses and undergrowth have grown up around her as her legs are covered in wet moss and pencil-thin vines. Her bare skin dappled with dew and a gentle smile on her face.

Arkansas crouches near the stream, naked, tracing circles in the clean water with one hand and staring at what must be his own reflection. He seems peaceful, without a care in the world. He doesn’t seem to notice your arrival.

Rain looks at them with eyes full of pride… like a teacher would look at his prized pupils.

What do you do?

slickhop

I squeeze Bon's hand and then go to Riesling's side -- her appearance alarms me the most -- my hand on her back, above the forest's growth. "We were worried about you," I say, searching her eyes for recognition, thinking, hoping maybe, that this won't be the first or last time I find her with a drug-addled gaze.

Of course, part of me fears that it is much worse than that.

trevis

I look at the two of them, the vines around Riesling's ankles making me think of Sounder and the day we pulled her out of the ground.

I look at Rain.

"Have they chosen this? Or were they compelled?"

Rich

August,

Riesling listlessly looks over at you, a lazy smile on her face. She doesn't speak, but there is a peace in her eyes you've never seen.

All,

"Yes, Bon, they have chosen this, both of them." Rain explains with that same pride. "The Forest can provide for you, each of you. Drink clearwater, eat of her bounty. In exchange, you become part of her. Forget your pain. Join her and become part of a whole." He smiles, gestures to the forest around, "There is no need to struggle against Her. She has opened herself to you. Count yourself lucky. But each of you must choose before you leave this glade. His tone becomes more level as he adds, "If you choose to refuse her gifts, you will never be offered the choice again, and she will not allow you to return."

What do you do?

John

I cannot help but feel the immense consciousness of the forest surrounding us. I have had to all but close my mind in an effort to not be overwhelmed. My eyes linger on Riesling. I know August is trying to figure out what is going on inside her. I could help. But I am afraid. It is too much. I see the moss, the vines, the way they seem to bind her. The thought of opening my mind to a captive creature--if that is what she is--is abhorrent. Instead, I take the coward's way out. I walk down to the water, where Arkansas crouches. I hear Rain and Bon talking, absorb the fact that they have been...changed...by the forest. I crouch next to him and look. Is he as much a captive as Riesling? Does he accept, even like, his fate? For several breaths, I am stuck, afraid to do the one thing that I can really do to try and help. Finally, I reach out, let my fingertips glide across the surface of the water...and reach out for the mind of the forest.

Rich

All,

Arkansas crouches there nude and unprotected, you see scars on his skin from fights he must have suffered as a teen. Scratches on his back long ago healed into pale scars. The marks of a life perilously lived.

As you crouch near him Vignette, he turns his head, "It's so peaceful..." he glances at your face and you can see that he's trying to place you. He doesn't know your face. Finally he just smiles and reaches a hand slowly towards you, "stay with us."

What do you do?

John

I have painstakingly built a bastion of mind around myself, keeping the overpowering presence of the Forest at bay. Carefully, I begin reaching outside my mind to try to touch the mind of the Forest. With all my focus on the Forest, it takes a moment for Arkansas' words to register. Stay with us.

I do not see his hand until is it almost touching my cheek. I scream and scrabble backwards, crab-like. My hands hit rocks smoothed by the stream and slick with algae. My scream is cut off as my hands slip out from under me and I plunge under the water. I jump to my feet, spraying water from my mouth, hoping that the few drops on my lips aren't enough to turn me into part of the Forest. My dress and long coat are soaked, making my staggering retreat from Arkansas awkward. My white-gold hair is plastered to the side of my face, and the dark make-up under my eyes is smudged and running down my cheeks. I look around wildly, terrified by the knowledge that my mental guards against the mind of the Forest are gone.

John

Casual Brain Receptivity (Forest): (Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 5, 3. Total: 8)

John

That should have had a +2 on it, because I'm significantly weird, so it's a 10.

John

How can I get the Forest to release our people?

How can I get the forest to give us something that cures the recipient’s red sickness while letting them retain their independence from the Forest?

Rich

Vignette,

The forest offered Riesling and Arkansas a choice and they chose to become one with her. They are here of their own volition. If they wished, they could leave. There is nothing to release.

The forest wants nothing more than to grow, cleanse the earth, cleanse the corruption that's swallowed the world... you have to give to take, though. To get a cure for the redsick, bring her seedlings to your home and let them thrive... and she will tend to those who accept her and who do not fear.

John

I continue to back away from Arkansas, a little less hastily, now that I have felt the Forest's mind. I am still cautious, but my fear of being overwhelmed by the Forest's mind has melted away. My eyes flick between Riesling and Arkansas, and I wipe a drip of water from my lips as I wonder if my fear has lessened due to my better understanding the Forest or the Forest's manipulating my thoughts and emotions.

I walk back to where Bon stands with Rain and put a hand on her shoulder as a join the conversation. I do it without thinking. Maybe I crave human contact a bit more after touching the Forest's mind. Maybe the lessening of fear I feel after sharing thoughts with the Forest--the almost...calm and peace...that I feel--extends to more than just my interaction with the Forest.

"Bon, the Forest says that Riesling and Arkansas could leave, if they wanted. It also says--I think--that if we bring its seedlings back with us and 'let them thrive', she will..." I pause a moment to get this right, "...tend to those who accept her and do not fear. What if we created a park? Or maybe just put a single tree in Pike and Safeco? Like an emissary--" I glance at Rain. "A more direct emissary and link between us and the Forest. It's...not very clear... It did not give me instructions. But maybe if we do these things, the Forest will help our people without..." I gesture at Riesling uneasily.

Rich

All,

Townie and Fremont move up to Riesling, ignoring all the conversation and start trying to pull the roots off her body, figuring they can just take her and be done with it. Riesling suddenly comes more alert, lets out a keening wail of fear and pain, her eyes casting about blindly.

Meanwhile, Rei, Hamilt and Shogun are approaching Rain, their eyes curious, wondering and hopeful. They seem interested in this offer of peace.

What do you do?

toddnicholas

Well ain't this just a conundrum.

I turn to QuePasa. "What do you make of this? Do we leave them since they want to be here? To be honest, they seem happy. To be more honest, I don't trust these folks or this place any more'n I'd trust the devil himself."

slickhop

I smack away their hands, hissing at then, "Didn't you hear the witch?" My voice isn't without its own hurt. I hadn't thought the two of them were so separated from whatever joy in life makes it worth living, but obviously I was wrong.

"Are you sure?" I ask Vignette. "There's no part of them that doesn't want to come back with us?" I'm thinking about when I was with Harbormaster, in his good graces. If you'd asked me, I woulda said I was happy. But not all of me. Not the scared part that wanted to see the world, learn its stories. The ones Char hadn't taught me yet.

John

"The Forest says they are here of their own free will and that they can leave anytime," I say to August.

"As to whether there is no part of them that wants to come back with us?" I shrug. "Who can say? Is there not some part of you that wants to stay?"

My eyes drift back to Riesling. "I would hate for someone to make me stay just because I feel the allure of peace and health. I do not know if we should make her leave just because some part of her wants to return."

I turn my attention back to August, let her see I am not being cold and glib about this. "I just do not know how much of her is her and whether she can make a decision for herself. I could try to touch her thoughts, see how much is human, maybe see if the human and the Other agree..."

Rich

"There is only one God," QuePasa states with some irritation at seeing the doubt in others, "This is a false prophet, and we are in the devil's house right now."

Rich

All,

Townie and Fremont step back at August's reaction, and Riesling calms a bit. The roots circle her legs a bit higher.

Rich

All,

Folks are talking about this big decision, and there are some who seem inclined, odd as it is, to take up the offer. Not a majority, at least it doesn't seem like it. Yet.

Is anyone doing anything to sway the crowd here?

Who are each of you most afraid to lose?

trevis

I would be most afraid to lose my children.

I look at Riesling then at Arkansas, while mulling Rain's words. I do not scrutinize him because it is clear he believes his claims completely. They both look happy. Freedom from want and care after a lifetime of it is no small temptation. In this place I can feel my own constant exhaustion, hunger, thirst, cold... I can feel all of it all the more keenly for what is around us. At the same time, I can't help but think of HM and his use of Home on those he wishes mastery.

I look at Rain again before answering Vignette. "I do not think the forest would be content with a single tree as an emissary. Its nature is to grow." I look at the creek. "To cleanse." I turn back to Rain. "I will plant many of your children in the world if you will provide what we need to cure the sickness. I will not stand in the way of those who wish to come and join with you, provided they do so without compulsion." I look around at the crowd, raising my voice. "Alas, it is not enough for me to live a life free from care, so I cannot stay here. I have purpose... to heal those who suffer." I hold my arms out, taking in the clearing. "My friends... all my friends too, have their purpose, else none of us would have survived the Red so long. We cannot set that purpose aside without setting aside who we are. We cannot set it aside without making mock of our own struggles and sacrifices."

I turn to Rain once more.

"I can still help the forest heal the world without subsuming myself inside it."

John

I am most afraid of losing my mother. Since that terrible night of thunder and rage, I have carried her memory like a secret treasure. It has sometimes been my only companion. I have let it fuel my hatred of my father, her murderer, and my desire for revenge. It has sometimes been my only purpose. I remember her as someone–the only one–who accepted and loved me.

The Forest offers peace, freedom from want and pain. Its offer is acceptance of a sort, but not love, not restoration of what I have lost. Without my pain, without my memories of her, it will be as if my mother has died again, and this time I will have killed her.

I turn to Rain. “I cannot stay here and become part of the Forest. But I will not stand in the way of any who want to stay, and I will plant her seedlings and help them thrive if she gives us the ability to cure the red sickness.”

toddnicholas

The work of a preacher is delicate. At least one with my sensibilities. I'm a firm believer that people gotta make their own choices. The Lord says such things, in fact. Gave us free will and the like. We gotta find him all on our lonesome.

But then you look at folks in this... place. Makin' choices to be here. You wonder if they're all with it. You wonder if they ain't been tempted by the devil.

I nod to QuePasa.

"You ain't kiddin' friend."

I look at the faces of the family who've come along. I trust 'em, for the most part, to come back with me. They're good, dedicated folks.

Who I don't trust is Rain.

"Hold on a damn minute here, people," I start. "This man, Rain. First time I met him he tried to kill me, right in my own sanctuary. Then, he comes to tell us he's got stuff to help us out, but only if we submit to what he wants?"

I turn to Bon.

"Yer a healer, Bon. No true healer says that. I'll help you out, but only if you become a slave, give up yer free will. A healer heals all, because it's the right thing to do."

I turn toward Rain, let him know I'm speakin' right to him.

"You, friend? I wouldn't trust you to uphold any promise to do anythin' but destroy. So you give folks who need it what'll help 'em. No strings attached, and maybe we can all live in peace. Save that, though, and we'll need to have words."

Rich

Gates,

If that's a Frenzy roll, let's see some dice. This could be rather interesting.

toddnicholas

Well, I am speakin' the heck outta some truth to folks, ain't I?

(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 2, 4. Total: 8)

Rich

All,

People mutter in response to your words, Gates, unsure of Rain when you remind them of his past promises and threats. A few of the Grindhouse folks who are closest to Arkansas and Riesling also look to you, listening.

What are your Frenzy choices?

toddnicholas

I turn to the assembled people.

"Now I am far from bein' a man o' violence, but if this fella here, this devil Rain, won't share rightly with folks who need it, then maybe we have to let him know that he can't jus' let folks suffer while he hoards what he's got."

They'll fight for me as a gang. If Rain gives them a reason to, of course.

trevis

I do not like the tenor of this. I had not heard that Rain attempted to kill Gates... But still I had hoped for better.

Gates threatening someone with violence crushes something in me. Some hope I think.

"Stop!" I snap. "Rain is not who we speak with! He is but ears and mouth and hands for this!" My voice continues loud and edged with frustration to Gates and the others. I indicate the trees all around us. "We do not speak with a human. It has not a human's understanding. It is not a human who stands in the way of help for all those who suffer! Hurting that man will do nothing to help us." I glare at Gates, disappointed. "What shall you do instead, destroy the forest? Has your pain made you so foolish?"

slickhop

I fear losing the Arrows. They gave me freedom and purpose. Sisterhood and friendship. One may not always move forward forever, but if so, where does one fall? What bullseye does one strike? I don't have the answer to these questions yet.

This struggle makes me feel vulnerable and ineffective. The forest is not a queen I can charm into my bed and Rain is not a servant I can intimidate. It is not a part of the red wave that I can ride or a simple foe for me to kill. Gates' talk enlivens me, but in my heart, I know that Bon is closer to the truth here.

I wish Valentine were here. Xie'd know just the right thing to say to defuse everything.

I get a pressing fear in my chest and a vision of sorts. I just start thinking of Riesling, Bon, Perrone, QuePasa ... all dead, on the floor. Vignette a crumpled pile of red and white and black. Lost to a fight we can't win.

I fall back to the witch's side, link my fingers with the hand she has gloved in that terrible lace. "Vignette. Bring the preacher to heel. He is about to make a terrible mistake." I start speaking rapidly, shoving all my fear and concern through that glove. "Do you want all of us here to die? Not just those like you and me who chose to be here, but the simpler folk that got swept up in this? I know before I said that they had a right to look for their friends, but we've found their friends and they're happy. Now we need to get out of here before he causes a bloodbath."

I look her in the eye. "Pull his strings and end this, Vignette. Save his life."

Hoping to manipulate Vignette here.

Rich

August,

Go ahead and roll that Manipulate.

slickhop

Manipulating Vignette to go witchy on Gates.
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 5, 6. Total: 14)

John

Pull Gates' strings? If it were someone other than August, I might think it was only an expression. But August has seen me do exactly that. The night she called upon me for help with Millions flashes through my head. My ability to turn someone into a puppet... It is not something I like doing. In the case of Millions, he had hurt August. Arrows were going to die over it. He was a bad person. I do not regret what I did to him. Gates though... I do not think August realizes how much of a violation it is, making someone do things--or maybe August understands that too well.

Giving August a look of anguish, I run in front of Gates as he is exhorting his followers to violence. The juxtaposition is striking. Gates towers over me as I glare up at him, my wet hair making me look even smaller than normal. Black eye makeup lies in rivulets across my alabaster cheeks. My hands are outstretched in a half-conscious, rather futile effort to appear imposing.

Gates is such a gentle man ordinarily, so kind. He must have reached his breaking point. If he really feels so strongly, he will not react to a threat from me. I will have to take control of him.

I cannot do this--not to Gates. I cannot take his free will. I have reached my limit as well. I can think of only one thing to do.

"GATES! I scream up at him. In the physical world, my scream echoes through the trees. Simultaneously, I project my scream into his mind. "GATES! You have to stop! You are a man of peace!" I send tendrils of mind into his brain. Slender threads of thought no more substantial than spider silk. When I do this, the person whose brain I have invaded has a sense for the danger I pose to their mind. Usually, it is enough to make them agree to do what I ask. But Gates is a man of great will and self-sacrifice. He will sense the threat of terrible, debilitating pain. What he may not predict is that I do not have to target his mind. My strands of will withdraw rapidly from Gates and sink deep into my own mind. Still speaking directly into Gates' mind, I say, "Stop this violence--or I will rip my mind open while we are connected, and you will remember my screams for the rest of your days."

John

Direct-brain whisper projection: (Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 5, 3. Total: 10)

toddnicholas

I'm angry.

"This man, Vin. This man came into my sanctuary and tried to kill me. He's tried to steal my family. He's let us die even as he had the cure. How can I just..."

I look around at the assembled people.

Damnit.

Vin is right.

"But the Lord said, 'let he who has no sin cast the first stone.' And then... and then the people went home."

I turn to the crowd.

"Folks... Vin is right. Violence ain't the way to solve this. We let folks do what they want, and we try and make peace."

Spending my hold to make people go back to their regular lives.

Rich

All,

Gates' followers are already gathering, preparing to leave, turning their backs on Rain. Now, August, you see the Grindhouse players, dejected at their failure to rescue their friends, give spiteful looks to Rain and turn to leave as well.

"No!" Rain shouts, his voice echoing in the trees, a creature rustles through the brush nearby. He holds out his hands, pleading. "Please. That was a different Rain. He was foolish. I have been remade by the Mother-by by the Forest! I must bring more of you to her! She won't let you leave, not all of you!"

What do you do?

John

I look at Rain, at the others. "The Forest's thoughts did not include anything about keeping us here. It even would allow these two to leave," I say, gesturing at Riesling and Arkansas.

trevis

Things seem to proceed from horror to horror as August asks Vignette to intercede with Gates. I am all tension, hand covering my mouth as I watch the exchange with wide eyes. I only breathe easier when I see that Gates has regained some measure of himself without, apparently, Vignette doing something terrible.

I turn too, at Rain's outburst. Curious at his words.

"Why does she need some of us to stay? Why does she wish people to become part of her in this way?

toddnicholas

I'm skeptical, to say the least.

I'm readin' Rain.

(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 3, 4. Total: 8)

Exp+1

slickhop

The fistful of fear between my heart and my belly unclenches when Gates stops calling for arms. I see Bon's expression and cringe, but feel no regret at asking Vignette to intervene. The Witch has her wiles, and besides that, Gates would never hurt her.

I move between the various Grindhouse players, clenching hands, honoring their grief at the potential loss of Arkansas and Riesling. The likely loss.

When Rain refers to a different version of himself, I grow curious. Perhaps another him from another reality? I wonder what I could make him tell me, if it were just the two of us. Suddenly I wish that everyone else was gone, so that I could find out. Strange, when so recently I'd treasured being surrounded by such capable people.

There's a tremulous feeling in the air, a string unplucked, that makes me want to tell a story. But this isn't the Yacht Club, this isn't Grindhouse. It doesn't seem quite right. For now though, I'll just wait. See what the others have up their sleeves.

Rich

Rain swallows, his eyes scanning the trees above while he answers, "If she is displeased, if I am not able to help the Forest grow, I will be remade... again.

trevis

“We have pledged already to help move her children into the world if she helps us. As for the rest…tell her we need to understand why she needs humans thus. Why does she require subsumation?” I say, indicating Riesling. “That she wishes it is not enough.”

Rich

"She needs to grow. Our minds are fertile. Our essence gives her strength. It is symbiosis." Rain seems a little desperate as he watches all of the people leaving the small glen. "Please. Riesling and Arkansas are at peace. Happy." Happy is a stretch.

trevis

I glance at Riesling again.

"They are not happy... they are mindless." I say, sadly. "They give all that is important to the forest. It is a form of peace, but the price... It would be like felling every tree in order to feel the sun on my face. A waste."

I look at Rain. "She does not need our essence to grow. She merely desires it. There will be people who wish to come here. We will not prevent them. But we will not stay. If she wishes us to plant her children, she must help us without taking from us this way. If that is not possible then we shall survive as we may."

Rich

All,

Rain has no further arguments. Gates' words won over the people. Each of you file out along the path, out of the forest, saplings in hand to plant at Pike.

End Scene