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[DVFP] The Big Autoduel (C 2.2, J 2.2)
Cinch and June,
A long string of mismatched speakers hung around the arena like Christmas lights blare music, and the crowd sings and jeers and screams as the Chum and Shark match nears a bloody finish. The word got out that Cinch is driving for the Skorpions and half of Depot seems to be here. The arena is standing room only, with solar lights flashing stored rays onto the arena, pushing away the darkness of the chilly night.
Human bodies provide the warmth for the crowd, a jumping, punching, roiling miasma of people. Except for the VIP Box where you sit, June. The Fat Man isn't here, but his lieutenants are, merchants you've seen at High Rent, even Thashnar, the no account fugger. All of you guarded by some of the elite. Sadly, Missed isn't here, but you recognize the one who mocked you earlier, so... that's a plus? Rothschild is thrilled by the exclusivity here, and she grips your hand tightly as "the Shark" takes a chainsaw out of his Magical Murder Bag (tm). It's going to be grisly.
How are you taking that?
Cinch, you're in the underneath, one of two dug-outs under the stands where the cars are stored before you roll in. Your match is next. Roark's not drunk, thanks to you. You cut him off and he thanked you. Joe's Girl sat like really close to you at The Pit. Where is she now, still around you, or getting ready or what? Ace is under her hood, checking her El Camino out. She's got "thart look" in her eye, and she's aching for this run. You've heard the UFer engines from their spot, and they're fuggin' loud. They must have something special going on. A dozen Skorps are around, armed with picks and knives because guns are a NO NO in the arena during shows. They're keeping an eye on "the talent", that's you, to make sure the Front doesn't come in and take you out.
What's your pre-game ritual like, cinch?
Comments
I'm all helmet on, goggles down. I don't let nobody see my eyes before the match. I'm part of the car... scratch that. Car's part of me... and I don't plan to step out until this thing is won.
Joe's girl is sitting on the fender of the El Camino, looking like she's trying to focus, but I see her keep looking up at me and glancing away when she thinks I notice. Get your head in the game, girl. She'll be cool. I can see it in her.
This is a side gig to me, but to Ace, Roark, Joe's Girl... this is life, serious. I ain't going to drag ass out there on the team. Hundred percent. For them... yeah and showin' up Mimi, that's a thing too... but that's more like gravy.
I sit at the wheel. Door open, hands at ten and two, or on the stick, or fingers on the dash. Visualizing the course as I remember it... and Mimi chased me down on the open the other day, pretty sure I now what kind of line she likes to cut, if it comes to somethin' personal. Beat her in the wild, beat her in the cage.
I hear the crowd out there... the roar, rumble... and my heart tries to get a head of me and go racing. Not yet... not till we're green.
Holy spit, Thrashnar is still alive, even? Hump me runnin', I would not have guessed.
I mightn't be able to stand this place if not for bein' in the VIP booth. The sheer press of it, the noise..just not safe, not sane for me. Besides that, here I have a clear line of vision, in case I need to put my thumb on the scales.
This pre-game scorch, though..I could do without it. Rothschild grips my hand and I squeeze back, once, before lurchin' up to excuse myself. I lie and say I'm gettin' some water, ask if she wants anythin'. If the event after Cinch's is like this..I'll have to leave.
June,
Rothschild asks for some synth to drink, "or some swill, whatever", gives you a little smile, then turns back to the spectacle. You feel the Feed picking up here, a hum with spikes closing gaps. The crowd here isn't the only mass interested in this match. More and more tunes and talks and chats and buzz grows. There's an actual shop grease cooking food and they have kegs of brew and whatnot. Or are you out just to get a smoke and clear your head?
There's a concrete rail and overlook onto the guard barracks nearby, a decently quiet place, as quiet as any place here, a view of something more calm.
Cinch,
Roark starts hopping up and down, getting psyched. He lopes over to Joe's Girl and riles her up. She stops looking/not-looking at you and gets into it. They start some yell back and forth something or other, and slap their hands on the sides of the El Camino.
As they're working up, a Skorpion runner, one of Ace's nieces, comes running in from the spotter's squat, winding her arms around. It's the signal. Chum and Shark is ending. The Chum is gone. The Shark has won. Ace closes the hood and heads over to slide into her car, turning it on and backing up in one smooth motion. Joe's Girl clambers up into the bed, then grabs onto her wristhold and turns back to look right at you. Blows a kiss, and grins wide. Roark runs over to dive into the empty window, laughing with excitement, whooping with a fire as he slips around and scoots back outside the window, slapping the roof of your car. Of you.
What do you do?
Lord, Rothschild is so cute, I could just eat her up. I can't stand how she likes this..but I guess it's good cover for me. I find the concrete rail and smoke and relax, the feed still pinging off of me..hungry search strings meeting the spectacle halfway. Between here in the flesh and there on screens at home.
When the noise points to a final blow I head back and grab a brew..no food, I can't handle that right now. Synth..not my style of drink, but I'd go after it if I wanted to get wasted. Maybe I should invest in distilling equipment.
When I get back, I hand Rothschild the brew and sit down, only halfway through my cig, which I intend to keep.
June,
The Chum and Shark match is over when you return, and there are workers clearing bodies and shells and whatnot while a couple folk prance about on the arena floor in giant lion and mouse masks, pantomiming some farcical chase.
What a dismal Tom and Jerry show. There's a low buzz of anticipation still hanging in the feed. I pretend to smile about it.
I put an arm around Rothschild as she flirts with me, smirk and shake my head mutely as I draw in a lungful of smoke. Then I lean in, not yet exhaling, and offer her my mouth instead, to see if she'll take it.
June,
Smoke sighs out of me, pleasin' and cool, into half a kiss. Then she chokes on it and I can't help but laugh a little with her. What is she even playing at with me?
"Hm. I'm just rooting for the local team, and two friends. Thought I would try somethin' a little new and different. You know, it's expensive bein' me. Sometimes I think 'What's it like, what the high rollers do?'"
I lock eyes with her, show an ironic expression. "Every time I learn it's exactly what I think it is. I have outlived my capacity for surprise already."
June,
"How's that? Got capacity for that?" She laughs lightly, sitting there waiting for a response.
Anticipatin' her move, I pull my cigarette away and make my lips free. I kiss back, without artifice, simple and slow, free hand bracin' in the small of her back. I resist my urge to go deeper, just kissin'. No mind games, no sensorium hacks.
"And how. You have such pretty eyes. After the Skorps duel..let's get lost."
June,
"That's hilarious!" Rothschild points out to you, in case you hadn't noticed.
I don't get in on the shouting but it draws a look and a smile, a nod at Ace and I return Joe's Girl's smile by raising my goggles for a moment to look back and she catches me feeling pretty nice and nostalgic and showing it on my face.
Roark leaps in, I laugh at his energy, then goggles on, game face. Power up the kinetic damping to sixty, and that static crackle and electric whirrr fill our ears, then fade. It's one of those noises you can't pin down. You hear it but it's easy to forget about after two shakes.
"Let's own this," I say to Roark as he gets in position. I've got a couple of nylon-strap handholds fastened to the belt hardpoints. Should give him plenty of grip as we maneuver.
For effect I flip on the flashing lights at the fenders. The light bar on the roof is long gone, but I still got the strobes under each fender and behind the grill, and the strips of micro-spot led's over each door... meant to light up the area surrounding the vehicle for safety, and they can get pretty blinding in the dark, but they look kind of awesome when you set them to cycle front to back... almost like you're moving standing still.
"Whooo!" I holler and roar the engine. Car's lightened up, aux tanks stowed in the garage and most of my personal crap stashed to keep the weight down and keep the cabin clear for the event.
Waiting for the signal. Another glance at Ace. We've discussed the pattern we're running... but the game plan never stays the plan long. You gotta improvise.
I notice the rise in activity in the dugouts and lean forward. Those lights..hah, Cinch, you're a villain for reminding me what they look like.
I drag out the last of my cigarette and dispose of it. "Explain what makes it funny to me?" I ask with a mild expression. "In fact, what draws you into the arena? You were like a little precision missile in scavenge, if I needed potting soil you could find it, any old thing.."
June,
Cinch,
Ace looks across at you, gives a solid nod, then a thumbs up. One of the Skorpion bikers pulls up between the two of you. The biker's got a wild mohawk, wearing shoulder pads, but tight abs are displayed. They rev the bike engine and howl, then let the back tire kick up dust and dirt.
Across the way are the UF cars, both dull gray with thick armor. They aren't built for speed, they're built to ram and take punishment. Mimi's their biker, and she's wearing dark goggles over her helmet. The machine guns have been removed, but her bike's still a helluva threat. She's glaring at you, Cinch.
Both teams line up on opposites side of the arena floor. The crowd screams and howls. The announcer bellows the rules of Flags and Poles, the winning score needed is five, no guns, no killing (on purpose), and if a car dies, the drivers are out.
"I like the symbolism, I'm just not tickled." Humor is difficult to learn and intellectualize, I suppose. I just wanted a little perspective into her lightness.
I suspect she had a run-in out in the wild, or someone's after her. I let her keep her memories to herself, for now, watching as she changes the subject. "I get cold easily, but I'll take off both of my gloves for you."
I free my hands from hers and peel out of my gloves, laying them over one leg together. My hands are..delicate. Long fingers, clean fingernails. My right hand is a bit of a patchwork, from the same incident where I lost my right eye. I needed a lot of stitches to keep all my fingers. There are a couple of small pitted scars where FPS removed my auth chips. Bluish blood vessels run over darker wires.
Still looking over them, she says, "The human race tends to remember the abuses to which it has been subjected rather than the endearments. What's left of kisses? Wounds, however, leave scars." Then, like she's proving a point, or maybe disproving it, she bends down to kiss your right hand, brushing her lips along the places where auth chips once sat proudly, gleaming like badges of power and defiance.
I roll slowly up to the starting area, flick off the strobes (I'm not that much of a show-off, not really) and get my game face on. Nod to Ace and slap Roark on the thigh as he gets in position.
I can outpace those cars, and although Mimi's a threat I think I can handle her. I've dodged her before.
Revv the engine, grip the wheel. Love this feeling!
That's..the playwright who created the Threepenny Opera..
I watch and revel in the subtle, light sensations of her fingers on mine, my tactile impressions riding up her skin. The gloves aren't just there to help me look pretty. "Bertholt Brecht." I observe as I finally unbury his name. Her lips touch me and I sigh.
The rules of the duel are bellowed out. I interrupt Rothschild and lead her to sit back upright again, but against me. I nuzzle my nose into her short brown hair and leave an arm around her, my sight on the arena and the opening plays.
STOMP STOMP CLAP
STOMP STOMP CLAP
STOMP STOMP CLAP
The restless crowd summons the music to kick in. The speakers pick up the beat and soon you hear the guitar wail and the winger's clear voice. The crowd chimes in, most of them getting the first verse perfectly right.
"Buddy you're a boy make a big noise
Playin' in the street gonna be a big man some day
You got mud on yo' face
You big disgrace
Kickin' your can all over the place"
The single stoplight suspended above the arena floor lights up.
Glowing Red.
Engines rev. Roark slaps the roof of the car with both hands, hooking his feet int he straps you provided. Ace points to you, Cinch, then to Mimi. The crowd screams when they see the light. They know what's coming.
Glowing Yellow.
Another cheer. Ace's car lurches forward a few inches, like some bronco raring to bust out of the gates.
Rothschild snuggles into you, June, letting out a squeal of delight for this spectacle. The feed is buzzing again. Your old implants tingle with faded memories of that connection.
Glowing GREEN GREEN GREEN.
The crowd leaps to their feet, brew and spill throw up to the heavens.
The cars and bikes race forward towards the first set of barrels and flags. IT IS ON.
Cinch, this open terrain between you and Flag One is wide open. This is a dead sprint. Mimi's the only thing here that's even close to you. Why don't you Outdistance these vehicles. On a 10+, you get the normal options, but you can choose that Roark has the flag free and clear. On a 7-9, it's an option you can choose, but either your vehicle or Roark suffers 1-Harm, your choice.
Go!
Not messing around, I throw her into gear and hit the gas... I let Ace beat me off the line by a hair, but that's just courtesy to the captain. Quick as I can I leap out ahead and aim for the first flag, Mimi on her bike is a threat to Roark more than anything so I plan to keep her on my nine, on my side.
That's the plan anyway.
Outdistance another vehicle:
(Rolled: 2d6+4. Rolls: 4, 6. Total: 14)
Minus her speed, probably one or two?
Cinch, you speed past Ace and cut hard, throwing a tidal wave of dust onto Mimi as you keep her on your nine and edge her left so Roark can make his grab. Before the Skorpy biker can even get up to help you, Roark has snagged the first flag!
June, Rothschild pushes against you as she watches, calling out, "Cinch! Cinch! She's so fuggin' amazing!" She doesn't move back to look up at you, preferring your current proximity. Well, not entirely. She takes the index finger of her right hand and playfully moves it to the top of your tummy, and worms it gently between the buttons of your vest, seeking the same gap in your shirt. She isn't looking to tickle you as much as touch you.
After the first flag, Cinch, you've got a hard left and up around the curve. This is the roughest section of the arena floor. Chunks of fallen concrete, spikes, and broken bottles litter this section.
When you have to deal with bad terrain, roll+cool, plus your vehicle’s handling.
On a 10+, you fly through untouched. On a 7–9, choose 1:
• You slow down and pick your way forward.
• You push too hard and your vehicle suffers harm as established.
• You ditch out and go back or try to find another way.
On a miss, the MC chooses 1 for you; the others are impossible.
Let's see those dice again, Cinch!
Yeah Mimi! Take that you murderin' rocksucker!
Feels good when he takes the flag and I can feel the adrenaline pump. The engine roars, dampers whine and this is livin' like it's meant to be!
"Gotta cut through the rough, Roark! Hold on!" I peel left towards the scattered debris. Not my car's strength to be honest... if anything, we are a road car... but I'll cut it just right and let the dampers take the impact. Won't slow us down a hint!
Rough terrain! +2 Cool
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 6, 3. Total: 11)
xp(5) Advance!
I take in the push of Rothschild's body against mine and the electric thrill of Cinch's expert drivin', fast and precise. Maybe I won't have to pull on Mimi's strings, or twist hard on the pain centers of some UFer unlucky enough to play it dirty in a direct line to me.
Rothschild's fingers..I don't stop her. She's keepin' me from dippin' into the feed, going all in on the overstimulatin' nature of this evenin'. If we make much more skin contact than this, I worry I'll bleed into her a little. I haven't replaced my gloves, don't want to.
Still, I can feel two waves of excitement, one corporeal and right in front of me, one digital and never-absent, never-present.
Cinch's car runs headlong into rubble and hazard and I clasp my hand over Roth's, lean forward and crane my neck up so I'm not shouting right in my date's ear. "Ciiinch! Get it, girl!"
Cinch, the dampers do their work and your tires hold up under the stress. It's a bumpy ride and Roark actually slips halfway back inside for a few moments, just to make sure he doesn't end up broken and cut up on the roadway. In your rear-view, you catch one of the two gray bruisers bumping Ace and trying to drive her into the wall, but Joe's Girl has a fuggin' spear that she's jabbing towards the UF driver to keep them back.
The second UF driver is behind Ace, nudging her and throwing Joe's Girl off balance. They're teaming up on her hard, but she's buying you time. As the Skorpy biker tries to ride up by the tailing UFer car, he shoulders them, hard, and they lose it, hitting a rock or something and flying off their bike, slamming into the wall.
June, you catch that, a savage wipeout for the Skorpion biker. Their name's H. What have you heard about how H got their bike? The crowd howls at the bike's explosion and some folks throw pennies over at H.
Cinch, Mimi gooses her bike up alongside you as you finish the curve. She's on your side of the car, pulling right beside you, a vibro-sword in her right hand. It looks she's going to try and snake the flag from the way she's leaning over her bike.
What do you do?
I heard that H won xir bike in a game of poker at Truk Stop. It was a whole event, a crowd forming around the game as the stakes climbed higher. A lot of people say H was lucky to get away from that game alive, let alone with xir winnin's. I flinch and tighten up when xie slams into the wall.
My focus narrows right down, Rothschild could strip me right now and I wouldn't notice. My eyes narrow as Mimi menaces Cinch. I send her a quick signal, strumming her strings..
"Do you think the UF gave you a bike, or did they give that bike a Mimi?"
Mimi would have to spend a good fifteen minutes to get that sword through my armor, but yeah she could do some damage to Roark, or the flag... flag in pieces ain't a flag. Right?
But Mimi on her bike is pretty ambitious closing in on my side.
I look over at her, smile and cluck my tongue (not that she can hear me) and mouth, "I don't think so!"
Then threaten to swerve into her, jerk the wheel ever so slightly once... twice... so my fender misses her just so as she closes on us. She's not getting to Roark or our flag without taking a hit, maybe taking a tumble. And I'm making no secret of it.
"I'm not the first Mimi, she replies through the connection.
Going aggro with the car +0 handling.
(Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 6, 2. Total: 8)
Mimi looks like she's willing to risk it, Cinch, and guns it. Right as you move over on her, though, she tenses up, all that bravado evaporates off her face like water in scorch time, and she turns pale. Before you even slide over to nudge her, she pulls back, sheathing her sword on her bike and nearly laying her bike down in the rough patch.
June, you feel that confusion and the terror through the feed, you spooked her good, and she's fighting herself not to bail on the whole thing. You feel her glance at that corridor, the same one you walked through to enter the arena earlier today. It's guarded, but only to keep people out. Not in.
Roark grabs the second flag, Cinch, and without Mimi breathing down your neck and Ace blocking the UF cars, it's lickety split to grab the third, too. Only two more flags left, and the next set of them are an 8-10 split. You can take one with Roark, but the other's on the whole other side of your car.
What do you do?
With Mimi off my ass and the other cars held up by our team captain, that gives me the chance I need. Speed will win us this (like it wins everything) and I gun it... let's see Roark show his stuff with a high speed grab, to the goal, then circle and grab the other before Mimi recovers from whatever's got her freakin' out.
"Fast break, Roark!" I shout as the engine roars. Here comes the flag!
Lightning fast, in and out... no distractions.
Bu Mimi... that's freakin' weird... can't help but glance at her in the mirror.
No no... I punch the wheel and focus forward. Let's do this!
More of that amazing drivin'..I have a hard time keepin' track of where Stazie is here and there. Makes me wish I knew more about cars.
"They wouldn't know the first thing to do if you bailed on them right now. Ditch the bike and the arm, and what will they have to look for?"
I stop leanin' forward quite so much, puff a little cool air behind Rothschild's ear on my way up. But my eye doesn't leave the arena floor.
Cinch, Ace and you are too good. You've got this in the bag. Roark is slapping the roof again, excited about the upcoming victory. You're checking the rearview when you see Joe's Girl jump off the back of El Camino onto one of the gray cars, the one running behind. She runs along the hood and dive tackles the rider, and disappears out of your line of sight.
Ahead's the next flag. The Flag of Pain. This flag, the fifth flag, is covered in nails. Roark's got a glove, of course, but he'll be feeling it. It's the price of victory, right?
June, Rothschild makes a bit of a purring sound when you puff her ear and laughs. Her index finger is lightly scratching your tummy and she snuggles into you, also turned and enraptured by the autoduel.
That's when Mimi makes a break for it. She jumps a barrier and runs along the central section of the arena, making a beeline for the exit. Her bike's humming along, and she's not even in the game anymore. The crowd's shocked, June, folks screaming to watch her, asking what the cook's up.
What do you do?
I smile and muffle my own laughter in the crook of Rothschild's neck, watching til the end.
The hell?
I hold onto Roark as he grabs that last flag. Props to him, right? What a rider!
But Mimi? Hell I'm in the game here and I'm not bailing on my team but that's mad weird right there. I thought she'd be after me but... ok I may have to go after her after this is done... that's gonna be in my brain.
But for now. Finish the course. I can't let them down.
Cinch, Roark grabs the flag and the crowd cheers and throws water down onto the arena floor. Roark raises the flag up, blood trickling down his forearm. He howls an exult and this is the biggest victory anyone's ever seen in Flags and Poles. The United Front, you can see them in the rows in the Union Jacks, they're full of venom for you.
June, Rothschild, despite her enjoyment of your physical proximity, hops up, cheers, taking her hands away from you to pump them in the air. She's just as confused about Mimi as the rest.
Mimi, however, has made it to the corridor, hopping another barrier and zooming down the tunnel and out of the arena. Some United Fronters are rushing for the exit.
What do you do?
I rise up with Rothschild a little painfully to participate in the celebration, raising a fist overhead. Shoutin' with the rest of them.
Feelin' wild.
Now is probably the best time to leave, but for a little longer I'll howl and watch, gloves tucked in my pocket. This show might have a stinger.
I let out a little surprised noise when she kisses my neck. I'm sliding my gloves back on as best I can with an arm around Rothschild. "You're welcome, thank you for being such a sweet date..let's do just that."
"Your place? Or mine?"
"Whoop!" I down the windows and holler to Ace and the others. "Yeah some match! You guys didn't let 'em near us, Ace!"
I pull into the Skorpions staging area, feel that glare from the UF crowd. Wonder if they bet against me? Not smart fellas!
But it feels strangely bittersweet. How Mimi bailed on the match is just weird, wrong... she had it in for me personal... no way she thought I was gonna run her down, right? That's never been my rep... take a tumble, sure, but I'm not gonna put wheels on you.
I open the door and step out, leave her running. I may have to make some quick excuses and get outta here.
All around the VIP area folks are shoving and bumping their way for the exits. With the guards, though, you can make your way to the stone steps that lead out of the arena without all that hustle and bustle. Are you headed straight to your pad, stopping by the bar at High Rent, or what?
Cinch, Roark is hopping around, swinging the fourth flag over his head and yelling victory. A couple arena minders come over to hand you winnings. The crowd's still roaring with delight.
What do you do?
"I've got a little bit to drink stashed away at my place. Let's skip all of these other people. Yours is the company I care about right now." I don't want to just jump straight into bed with her, but I'm all peopled out for tonight.
But I do want to talk, stalk around that clever memory, and get to know Rothschild better.
I take the crutches gratefully and let the guards do their work. There's really no better way to do this, and going straight to 220 at High Rent comes easy.
"'Erst kommt das Fressen, Dann kommt die Moral.'" I recite as I pour out two shallow glasses of rum I keep stocked for times of frivolous need.
Please go here.
I didn't realize we lost someone. That puts a serious look back on my face, this game isn't supposed to be lethal. Not usually. I nod gravely and clash Ace's shoulder.
I secure my car and follow the team over to the UFers. Game face back on. We know what UF does to prisoners, but taking someone right off the arena floor would be... just unheard of. Hundreds of free people watching? Not gonna happen.
Where is she?
You walk up with Roark and Ace and see that all four of the UFers are looking over the battered and bruise body of Joe's Girl. She's still breathing. Other than a few bruises, she looks alright. The UFer who drove the trailing car says, "Nice match. Too bad about your biker." He's running a hand over Joe's Girl's thigh possessively.
Ace is going to fight these fools for Joe's Girl, and Roark's going to back her up. There are more United Front hopping barricades and coming this way, and Skorpions can't be far behind. UF outnumbers Skorpions two to one, Cinch, but some of them took off after Mimi, at least. Still, this could get real bad, real quick.
What do you do?
Not having this.
I step out in front, "Hey!" I shout loudly, head tilted to one side, "aren't you a curly wolf! Your gal Mimi just booked outta here middle of the match, right out'the door!" I extend an arm and point towards the exit Mimi took. "Something goin' on with'er and y'all standing around here pulling this shiite after a fair and square beatin? You ain't backin her up? Hell, I was about to take off and eyes-on her myself cause somethin' ain't right... and we got bad blood 'tween us something real."
I walk forward while berating her, them. Hell I'm ready to throw a punch if need be but I'd rather talk some sense into these rocksuckers.
Smack my helmet with the heel of my hand, roughly where Mimi has her UF logo, "I don't ride with'ya but I thought wearin' UF colors means something. We ain't giving up our skorp girl... neither should you give up on yours!"
Point towards the exit again. Probably putting myself dangerously close to them if things do get physical.
Let's see if you can Manipulate the United Front to head for Mimi instead of trying to kidnap Joe's Girl.
For a second I think I catch a glimpse of Sierra up in the stands and you know, for whatever reason I don't want her to see me scrappin' and throwin' down. Turns out... yeah it's not Sierra up there after all, but the feelings all the same.
Manipulate the UFers. Hot+1, Sierra+1
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 6, 1. Total: 9)
noxp
This is Sony.
He walks over towards your car, like he's going to go for a ride with you. Roark looks at you, Cinch, like "want me to come along, watch your back?"
What do you do?
'If she dies, she dies?' that phrase pisses me off. But I keep it inside.
"Allright? Play it cool, we'll be back with Mimi," I ask Ace, the tensions in the air, I hope, defused at least a little. Another look at Joe's Girl to remind myself what's at stake.
I slap a hand on Roark's neck and hold a second, "let's go." Tilt my head towards Sony and then to the car. "Take shotgun, Sony."
"Mimi's dust won't be easy to spot for long." I hurry to the car.
Sony wastes no more time, jogging to your car. Roark follows, then climbs into the back. When you start up the car, Sony reaches a hand out to run fingers over the glove compartment and the dash, "This is in great shape, Cinch. Very nice. Priceless even."
You pull the car out of the arena, through the throngs of celebrating crowds who slap the car in congratulations to your victory. When you get to the "road" (I'm being charitable here), you know you probably need to get out of Depot to have any chance of catching Mimi. Or maybe she dumped the bike and ran. What do you do?
"Yeah," I just answer Sony with one word as my mind is elsewhere.
I could ask Sony where he thinks she's gone, but I don't really expect much help. It feels like she wanted to get lost.
As we pass through the throngs of fans I go over Mimi's weird exit from the match in my head. She was right there on my tail... off my fender. Waving that sword around, I made a little feint and she just... bailed. Gave up the match and as far as I know rode right outta the Depot.
That's what it feels like.
Once we're clear and out on the road I slow, open my windows, breathe deep and hold tight the wheel. I listen to the engine idle and feel the hot breeze on the perspiration on my neck and face.
"Okay... Mimi you little shiite... the hell are you off to?"
This is easier without passengers along... I hold a hand near the dash and tune the car to track the feed. It would take serious work to isolate video, but the car can tap into the fps channels... detect signal density and rough movement of chase cams... they must be tracking Mimi after that bizarre exit from the match. If the car can sense any unusual activity in the area... it'll give me a vector.
Opening my brain to the feed: +2Cool (Weather Eye)
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 4, 1. Total: 7)
xp(1)
They are tracking Mimi, Cinch. You see her image leaning over the bike, heading for the north gate. You see other images of her, super-imposed, layered, no time stamps. She's sitting on a cruddy toilet in some bathroom in a hotel, tied up, her cyberarm lying in a dingy sink. She's walking through the Shady Shops without her cyberarm, helmet gone, jacket off, eyes darting everywhere, trying to find something.
What do you do?
I just take a moment. A sigh, breathless little moment before remembering I'm not alone in the car. Shake it off.
"Ok, let's go get 'er," I gun the engine and turn the wheel towards the road North. Cut across the salt flats outside the Depot where countless tracks lead every which way. Little bumps as we cut across the crispy ridges of crust until we again reach the pavement and I gun it.
Going nearly flat out, fast as I can with two aboard and with the road being what it is. I'm faster than her bike in a race, already know that for a fact. We'll catch her.
You get past the gate easy peasy, then head out to the open road. Ahead you see the dim nothing past your headlights. Mimi probably took off like a bat out of hell, but you've got her on the feed.
Funny thing is, Cinch, you catch a few images of her on the feed doubling back into Depot. That she zipped along for a half mile, headed due west, then looped back around to walk in the west gate.
Sony asks as he peers into the murky night, "Well, where to?"
What do you do?
I punch my helmet a time or two, not sure I'm reading this right. Signals inside the prison are deliberately scrambled and hard to receive and even with my gear from outside it's still open to a lot of interpretation.
"The hell?" I slow and do a quick turn on the road and head back in towards the gate, cutting again across the salt flats to follow her from the West. She's on foot now huh?
"She... might be at the darned market," I'm confused but following what I can make sense of. It's dark and I slow as we re-enter depot. I'll drive right through to the outskirts of the market, though, if I can manage.
Sony curses, but lets you drive in, of course. He peers as you pass Fall On Inn, and keeps watching when you reach the Warehouse, and then the Shady Shops. You spot her, Cinch. She's pulling a recently purchased hood up over her head with her remaining arm, looks like she's trying to stay hidden. Sony hasn't seen her yet, but he will any second now.
What do you do?
The hell is going on. She's trying to cut out on the crew? After all this searching I suddenly wonder if I don't want to find her... but...
Joe's girl... gonna be a fight at least, a killing at worst.
I grit my teeth and hiss, suddenly turn into a hollow between a couple of closed-for-the-night stalls. Get Sony's eyes off her.
"Let's split up and look... I reckon she's 'round here... got a feeling," I imagine Sony's looking dubious but I'm not waiting for an answer. I power down the car and gonna step out.
I step out but kind of slap the roof of the car and look at him over it, "I don't fuggin know! I spend mosta my life tryin' to outrun people like y'all... and my gut tells me she's round here... this is where I tracked her."
I bang on the roof again for emphasis. But it's got kinetic shielding and it never makes a satisfying enough sound when I do that.
"UF just wants the bike and the arm back right? Or whatever they're worth?" I start to wonder how much something like that goes for. Her bike alone is a prize horse... that arm... don't wanna know do I?
Again I'm not sticking around long for an answer. Gonna lose her if I do. I just secure the car and stalk away, trying to make sure I lose them in the dark.
Would love to get that signal ID. Oh well, not gonna bring it up.
"I'll try and find the bike, I'm in good with most'a the gearheads round here... if Mimi's ditched it I'll find it... Sony can you see about that arm?"
I gesture at him urgently and turn to go after Mimi. If I wait any longer I won't have a chance of spotting her in that hood... at least I know she's in that hood right?
"Keep an eye on the car, willya Roark?"
Damn it. I feel her disappearing. Got to follow the trail.
Let's see you Act Under Fire here, Cinch. On a 10+, Sony heads off somewhere else and you catch up to Mimi.
On a 7-9, you'll have to choose:
Either you lose Mimi (but lose Sony)
Or you keep eyes on Mimi (and there's trouble with Sony.
On a 6-, well, yeah, trouble. Capital T.
Act under fire to go after Mimi. +2cool
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 4, 3. Total: 9)
Xp(2)
Ok, the whole point right now is to catch up to Mimi and figure out what happened during the match... but... don't want to lead Sony to her and get her killed. So I let her go. For now.
If it looks hopeless I'll actually try and find that bike. I know she walked back into the gate so... is there a junkyard or a dealer just outside the Depot? Am I reading that right... damn feed is all fugged.
Surprised to find the bike and shiite like this, I thought she woulda sold 'em off quick or something. Can't leave good gear out in the open and expect to find it untouched unless you got serious rep (maybe she does) to keep hands-off. She's acting desperate... why?
The win in the arena aside, I don't feel great about any of this. Mimi acting peculiar (why do I care?) and the ufers beatin' on Joe's Girl like that, and me drivin' around like a chicken without a head... not a good thing any of it.
"Yeah, Roark sorry I guess my... I don't know what the hell happened back there. Let's get this back and get Joe's Girl safe... can you ride the bike? Let me take that..."
I take the arm if he's giving. Safer in here.
Illegal?
Nope, just head back. Guess we can pick up Sony if we happen to see him.
Tech like that cyberarm would qualify. Definitely. The UF must have some palms greased, or Mimi's been incredibly lucky.
You head back to the arena, catch up with Sony, who sees your car and walks up for a ride through the throng of hundreds of folks getting trashed, dancing and fighting on the street.
When you enter the arena again, it's wide open, no guards. Just a few dozen Skorprions and more United Front. A sea of Skorpy tats and glyphs and patches on one side, and the Union Jacks on the other. There are revelers here, too, those who didn't spill onto the streets.
He reaches a hand over to pat your thigh, like friendly, but then again, a little too friendly, right?
Touching me like that gets a hard glare directed sideways at him. He may notice how I'm holding the wheel a bit tighter.
"No thanks... I don't ride under a flag," union jack or not. It's hard not to say something, and glance at my thigh where he touched me, then over at him, "you lay hands on Joe's Girl, Sony?"
If he thinks he's gonna get in my pants when my fuggin friend is beat to shit in the hands of his team. Just nope.
Kind of wish Roark was still in the back seat... this kind of crud is why I put him there.
"Yeah... rules huh?" I'm still hands on the wheel, tense but I'm not making any moves. I don't start fights with people sitting in that seat. "Ain't nothing in the rules about holding our player after the match is done," that's where the problem is, and I give that a couple seconds... I feel hot and I wanna punch his fuggin' face.
But I gotta diffuse this, I glance at him, "UF's getting what you want outta this, right? I ran your fuggin' errand... found your metal, bringin' you back to to make the trade and that's that."
I could argue that Mimi bailing on them lost them the match. But I don't want to make whatever's going on for her worse for nothing.
"They decided..." I click my tongue. "They decided and just like that she's got a gun to her head and I'm burning gas chasin' a ghost..."
I pull up, turn slightly so Sony gets out on their side and I'm covered by the car. Just in case.
Idle there and wait for Sony to get out first. Assume Roark's along with the bike, too?
Yeah I go with. I started this deal, so I ought be there to finish it.
As always. Secure the car by running my hand over the door as I exit. I walk round the front and advance alongside Ace, allowing her a half step of lead as she's the captain.
Sony waits with Joe's Girl, she looks rough, but she'll heal. She's weary, but the fight's not out of her one bit.
Say anything when Sony hands her over?
"Pfft," glad I have Ace to talk to, rather than trying to figure out who to glare at as I walk up, "she ditched that shiite outta town... think they had a tracker on her. She's on UF's hit list now... hope she gives 'em a good run."
I don't bother with words for Sony, I've said what I needed to him in the car.
Not going to help Joe's Girl while we're in front of everyone, as she passes I give her a subtle smile and a nod. Meet her eye. I stand facing the gang until she's a good safe distance before turning to follow.
Sony cuts Joe's Girl wrists free with a wicked looking obsidian shard that's as sharp as any knife.
The other Skorpions pick up the cheer and so do the few revelers who are in the stands. United Front exits the stadium with only scowls and dismissive gestures while you're surrounded by well wishers. Joe's Girl's watching you from her perch.
What do you do?
I watch as the UF drive, ride, and walk away, only turning to join the Skorpions as Joe's Girls starts her team victory chant. That makes me smile, almost makes my eyes water, too. Given what we've been through.
I slap hands, bump fists, pat backs and clasp shoulders with whoever as I make my way towards the El Camino. I raise a fist and return Joe's Girl's shout, "whooop! Come on Skorps, victory drinks on me!"
Still not sure what my share of the purse was, I hadn't even bothered to ask before the match... but I plan to blow it on these mates here, tonight.
The Skorpions jostle, yell and sing their boisterous way to The Pit, where they take over the moshing area and most of the tables. Ace hands over two jingle in Depot bucks, which you hand over half to cover the tab at the bar, right? It's joyous and you get dozens of slaps on the back and a few "free drinks" from Skorpions, which is really them handing you back what you paid for, but so what, right?
When I party with the team I'm one that loves to pound a drink with the group, share my jingle and raise unnecessary toasts. I have a few, drink but don't get wasted and spend more on keeping their glasses full than my own. I'll buy a bottle and refill glasses, then take the last swig for myself. Point being I don't let myself get more than a couple hours from sober.
I hug her, too, laugh when she sits in my lap as we're pretty much the same size. Sorry to see her beat but she's tough and that makes me smile.
"Don't owe me, Girl," I say it as a short form of her name, not the other way, "saw you in trouble and on a lick and a promise we managed to find what we needed to find... but..." hard to be sincere in a crowd but she's close enough that I can speak quiet and she'll hear me. Right in her ear, "glad you're all right. Girl what the hell with moves like that? Gonna make the highlights."
Admiration, if anything, in my voice. She put herself out there for the team as much as anyone. More. I tighten my arm around her and order her another drink.
Joe's girl is kind of the highlight of the party, but things are starting to wind down from elated celebration to more of a general good time. I glance around, then tighten my arm around her middle.
"Yeah," I rub my face lightly against her cheek, then start to stand, give her time to stand up first. I remember how good she kissed, we never had a chance to do more back then, "let's go, Girl."
Don't care who sees, we head to the door together after I make sure the bartender's been paid for this round, and the next.
The Skorpions, led by Ace, cheer you out, a few lewd comments made that Joe's Girl answers with a raised middle finger. She walks arm-in-arm with you out to the garage. Do you take her out for a ride into the night, or just crawl into the cramped back while in the garage?
I join her in the good-natured finger flipping at their jeers. Last time we met she had hired me for a job, today, we're old friends and teammates. And it feels like we've been waiting for the chance.
I walk with Joe's Girl into the garage. Pause a moment with a hand on the roof of the car for balance and try to judge if I should even take her out... decide. No... we're not goin' for a drive right now. It's been a long time since I've had a chance to let it out and just feel good... we'll steam up the windows right here in the dark garage.
I open the door and slip into the back with her, toss some of my personal shiite into the front seat. True, she's had a rough day but it feels like she needs this, too. I eagerly pull her, if willing, into a gentle, deep kiss and then... more.
Oh, she's ready and willing, and the windows get good and steamy. Whatever didn't click between you two before is gone now. It's not love, but it's something.
Why don't you fire that Sex Move, Cinch? It's an NPC, but the Cool roll still applies.
Sex move: Cool+2
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 2, 5. Total: 9)
It's a wonderful evening, Cinch. Joe's Girl is one heck of a girl and it's been a little while, right? You avoid her injuries and she appreciates it. It's something, like I said.
You both fall asleep together, entwined, kisses and soft nothings shared. In the morning, you ache to know more about her, a little. But it isn't like she owns you, of course. And Joe's Girl? She seems to know that you'll never be tied down, and she's cool with that. It was a great night, and maybe there will be another great night sometime in the future.
Take a -1 Ongoing to Read Joe's Girl until you've been intimate again.
End Scene