[DVFP] Recruiting Run (C 3.1, E 3.1 and 3.4)

Rich

Esco,
A couple days have passed since the Fippers came by on their "inspection". Kettle and Pellet haven't returned yet for their part of your bargain. You've lost a few employees in the aftermath of that trouble, and with Marigold giving notice of her impending departure (to join Motley's crue), it's probably time for you to head out and recruit some fresh blood yourself, right? Sasha is with you on this run to Depot. Got to train her up.

Let's kick things off with a custom move to see how the recruiting's going. When you head to a bustling hardhold looking for employees for the Diamond, roll+Hot. On a hit, choose options. On a 7-9, choose two. On a 10+, choose three.
- you find a very attractive employee who's interested in the opportunity
- you find a desperate employee who will be loyal and eager for the work
- you find an old hand who knows the trade
For every jingle you spend, you can choose one more option on the list.

Each recruit has their own Trouble, though.
They're on the run from something/someone
They have Debts to pay for what happened before
They've got a bad habit that they're hiding
They demand luxuries for services, but they're probably worth it
They're clueless and will need help learning the trade

It's fuggin' hot, and The Irons can spoil a body. Sasha's got a small strip of dry shirt just inside each shoulder, but otherwise she's drenched in sweat. Where are you gathering folks for, you know, interviews? And how do you conduct them?

Cinch,
You're in Depot this fine afternoon. Were you ferrying someone or did you just arrive for "the other reason" (keep reading)? You heard about Esco looking for new girls, it's the talk of Depot. Also, you got a ping on your radio, coded for you. From an old friend from outside, guy by the name of Captain Arcpenny. He wants to meet with you privately at "The Well", an FPS water holding facility. In a few minutes.

scott

Don't get out to B-town East too often. Esco looking for new girls is news, and I'm keeping eyes out. Esco is kinda harsh on the ears sometimes but at least he's fair and you know where you stand at the Diamond.

The other reason. Yeah. I have't received any communications for a couple years now and this surprised the fugg outta me. They tried to tempt me back at first, lies about forgiveness and reinstatement... I know that really can't happen once you cross the line. Not that that's a common occurrence... but I'm surprised to be hearing from him of all people... to him, I must be one of "them" by now... right? Maybe I misread him?

Maybe it's about the FPS incursion at the Irons... that's news all over too. They must know I frequent the place.

So there's all of this on my mind as I walk, confidence painted on my face, towards The Well. What do I even say to someone like that. Someone from another world.

I smack my helmet a couple time with the heel of my hand to get my brain on right and figure out what to say.

As I near the well I don't slow... I pick up my pace and head over like I belong.

Adam

OOC: Recruiting some girls. Roll+Hot
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 5, 2. Total: 10)

Adam

I don't much care to do interviews with girls — I ain't lookin' for ladies who need jobs much anymore... I'm lookin' for girls who want some freedom. To get out from under some blazebrain system out to get them. Mostly I let the girls come to me, dressed as I am, and pale from livin' underground, it lets girls know a few things: I don't spend time out in the heat of the sun, I've got jingle to spare, and ('cause Sash is here, lookin' all sexy, prim, and proper) I take care of my girls.

I found a pair of twins, identical if you believe it. Farah, and Malakeh (her sis called her Mala for short). Young girls, sexy as all get out, and a torrential downpour of a wet-dream when they're together. Their pa was thrown in here, with his whole fekin' family, for some huge-arse crime... Treason, or some shite. They're lifers like me. Their pa is hard-core religious. Made 'em cover their faces and shite when they're out, with these colorful scarves — but considerin' I found these girls drinkin', and mackin' on some drivers, showin' more skin that Sash and me combined, I'd say their Pa don't know what they're all about...

Farah said she'd be happy to work so long as I keep her pa away — Mala on the other hand, she wanted the first class treatment... Nightly baths, makeup, scented oils for her room and shite. Insisted I give enough to take care of her, and her sister... It'll cost me, for sure, but for the pair of them? It'll be worth it.

Then I ran into the tweaker that set up my rig for swill — Pitstop. He's a genius when he ain't fekked out of his mind; but of late, he's doped himself beyond all recognition. Sores all over his body, teeth as black as coal... I found him doped up in his little hovel with this young thing named Whitmont. She claimed they'd been takin' care of each other, but I think it's pretty clear from the bags under her eyes, and her nervous twitch that she's comin' down off a tweak. When I told her about he Diamond, she practically begged me to take her on, said she needed the jingle desperately... I felt bad for her. Figured maybe I'd see how bad this addiction is, and what it is. If she can function, I'll keep her on. If not, I'll have to talk to Fleece about cleanin' her up.

Either way, I'm in need of girls, and she'll have to do.

I told them I had some business to take care of, mostly just securin' a ride back out to the Irons. I told 'em to catch the first ride out to the Irons, and have JD set them back up. I may send Sash back with 'em, just to make sure they're safe if somethin' comes up.

Rich

Cinch, when you come up to the door, the little camera eye swivels to look at you. A moment later, a slot in the steel door opens up at eye level.

You see the visor of a DVFP Guard, obviously a green one from the cleanliness of his gear. "What do you want, Prisoner? This is a secure facility."

Rich

Esco, Sasha heads off with your new crew towards The Pit to celebrate their new jobs and you take a walk towards the garage, the best place to find a ride. You end up passing by The Well, where you see Cinch standing by the door, she hasn't seen you yet.

What do you do?

Adam

Sash takin' over is good enough for me. I'm mostly browsin' about, toothpick in hand, takin' in the sun for a change... I can go days without it sometimes. I've been burying myself in work since that bullshite at the Diamond with Sierra, and this is the first time I've really been alone with my thoughts. It's a relief when I spot Cinch. I make my way over, and nudge her with my elbow.

"Oy — what's up?"

scott

I clench my teeth, still weird me out to be called that. On this side of the visor it rrally don't feel too friendly.

"I'm uh... " damn it why don't I have something in mind to say, "Im permitted in this sector, officer. Why don't you check with your C.O."

Not going to name any names here.

Rich

Cinch, the guard slides the slot closed, obviously going in to do just that. "Calling it in", as it were. If he follows protocol, you've got a minute.

scott

Been holding my surprise at finding Esco out here in the relative wild. Once the slot slides closed I relax a little and tilt my head towards the man.

"Sup Esco? Surprised to see your face so far outside'a the Diamond. How's the... Uh... hunting?"

Adam

I take up a spot leaning next to her on the wall. "Good. Locked down a few new additions — a pair of identical twins, if you believe it. I'd wager they'll bring in a pretty penny... About to head back actually. What're you up to?"

scott

Too much information... I just roll with it.

"Congrats on the discovery," I say with a bit of dry amusement. I stay where I can be seen from the door, but a bit to the side. Even though the slot is closed I'm sure I'm on camera.

Not wanting to say too much given the circumstances, I tip my head towards the door, "keepin' up with an ol'curly wolf on the force." A smile and raise my shades, "if you're lookin' for a ride homeward, I think I got an empty seat... but... not sure how long this particular business gonna keep me."

Adam

I follow her nod over to the door, and raise an eyebrow at Cinch knowing a fipper. She doesn't seem too interested in chit-chat... "Might could do. I don't gotta be back just yet. This business... Is it with them? Is this a bad time?" I guess I could find somethin' to keep busy until she's available...

scott

He's givin' me that look.

I grin, "some people'd say it's always a bad time 'round here." I chuckle and shrug. He's a welcome sight but the timing could be better, "supposed to be a private affair... but I reckon you and I can talk the news on the road."

I take a half-step back towards the door to get nicely in frame.

Adam

I smile and back off. I didn't know Cinch had a thing with a fipper. That's fekin'.... Weird. "Hey — no problemo. I get it, eh? I just only recently discovered Fippers can fraternize with us folks, myself. I don't wanna be interruptin' or nothin'. Where should I meet you?"

scott

I raise an eyebrow, "it ain't nothin like that!" I almost lose my cool a bit. Seriously?

Fraternize. Really. Pretty sure that's not policy. I'll have to ask.

"Car's parked over yonder," I point back towards the local garage. "Meet up wit'cha there."

Rich

The door opens and the Fipper stands inside looking at you, Cinch. No mention of earlier. "Get in here, now." Then to you, Esco, he barks, "Find someone else to scrog, pretty boy. Move along."

Adam

A wry smile sneaks into my face, and I wink knowingly at Cinch, before turning to address the Fipper. "Sure, sure." Fekin' fippers... I nod to Cinch, and push myself off the wall. "If I ain't there, I'll likely be poundin' back the cheapest whiskeys I can find. Lemme know!"

I turn to leave, and toss a hand up to wave. I wonder what passes for entertainment in this shite hole...

scott

I don't hesitate, wink at Esco, "you heard the man, get a move on!"

And head right inside. Feels... Weird.

Rich

Esco, please go here.

Rich

Cinch,

You enter the facility, which is a typical design you'd expect. Secure room, then hallways to offices, closets, and storage rooms, stairway down to the well. Same buzzing lights. Same drab gray walls, same dull gleam to the floors, like every other one. The guard leads you four rooms down to an unmarked office. Behind three virtual monitors sits Arcpenny. Here he is.

He swipes his screens off, not that you could read the words backwards anyways, then nods to the guard who leaves. "Stazie!" He hops up from his seat and comes around the desk towards you, puts a hand on your shoulder, squeezes, "You look good. Keeping shit squared out in the hellhole? Good." He looks at your face for a long moment, "Want something to drink?"

What do you do?

scott

Yeah this feels weird. Nostalgic, bit claustrophobic, bit alien. As I walk down the hall I consider the fact that this may be another attempt to bring me in as they say. But I'm pretty sure they've given up on that. This location and the atmosphere... makes this feel personal.

Not to mention I wasn't disarmed. Not that I could do much damage against the facility with my sidearm once the alarm went up.

It's hard not to salute the Captain out of reflex, but I keep my hand at my side and stay put as he gets familiar-close. I'm not a huge fan of the FPS as an institution, which may be obvious, but I don't hate each individual as a matter of course. Looking at him, always a head taller than me and not an unattractive man, I wonder what happened to his face since we last met... but I don't mention and considering where I spend my time it's easy not to stare.

As usual, he doesn't give much away, I take my time to reply, "sure." I probably sound a little suspicious to his trained ears, "plenty'a shit to go 'round out there, Captain... but you know I'm tryin' to twig what's got me standing in this particular place."

Rich

Arcpenny removes his hand, moves back towards his desk, bends down to open a large drawer and pulls out a half-empty bottle of hard liquor, then fetches a pair of tumblers, which he puts on the desk, pouring some into each. Hands one to you, keeps the other himself. Raises the glass in a salute, "To Princy."

scott

Awkwardly, I stand here watching the Captain pour our drinks into glasses that I can't help but think Esco would die to have on his bar until Arcpenny finally reveals why I'm here. And why he wanted to see me in particular.

My throat suddenly dry, it's clear that this is a farewell, I reach up and fumble a bit for the edge of my helmet and remove it roughly from my head, then finally remember to raise my glass, "Princy."

I join him in a drink, my mind racing, but I keep my eyes on Arcpenny, watch the light in the clear liquid as it reaches his lips. Death is a thing I've grown... not used to, but familiar with. And each life I cross becomes part of me and is mourned.... but Princy?

What could have taken him so soon?

"What happened?"

Rich

Arcpenny drains his glass then places it down on the desk. He turns back to point at the right side of his face, "I got out lucky. In that I got out at all." He sits on the corner of the desk. "The mission was classified. And with his passing, our unit's done, Stazie." There's a finality in his statement, as if the unit, your unit, has been disbanded.

scott

Inhale through my teeth as he points out the injury. The alcohol feels cool in my mouth and burns nicely in the back of my mouth.

"Classified?" I think on that one... at least during my time the unit was designated "Prisoner Orientation" which involved escorting new prisoners onto the grounds and at least seeing to their safety during those first few hours.

Witnessing the worst day of these people's lives. Professionally.

Gangs would gather for easy pickings of the chum... it got pretty tense sometimes and most of our time was spend chasing away these vultures and just being a stabilizing presence. Even so, we estimated that something like 50% failed to survive their first sunrise.

On occasion, though, the unit would mobilize for ground incursion, and I just have a feeling something went terribly wrong on one of these.

"So... what?" I shake my head, a touch of outrage in my voice, "just toss them into the burn and say good fuggin' luck? Ops can't be serious..."

Feels weird again, talking about the job like... like I'm still part of it.

Rich

He shrugs like it bothers him, but he's playing it off. "It was a coin flip the chum would survive. Sub-Wardens don't see a value in it now that we've lost you and Princy. So yeah... toss them in and let the cameras watch the sharks chew them up."
Arcpenny picks up the bottle and refills his glass, offers you the same. "Here's the worst of it, Cinch. The Sub-Wardens are playing fuggin' politics about our unauthorized incursion. They're letting the killer go. And I'm relegated to running Bordertown East. As soon as my furlough ends. Strict orders to stay far away."

Why were you and Princy close? What will you remember most about Princy?

scott

It's hard to listen to the crap excuses they've given Arcpenny. I try to believe he's on the right side of things... but you know. I did dust off and leave the unit.

I hold out my glass for a refill and remember Princy, the guy was as gentle as they come, but he had sand, for sure. Was the last to start a fight but he was always at your back when the vultures closed in.

"Unauthorized? Mean someone in ops just sat on the paperwork and let you think all the boxes were checked..." we were seldom featured on the show, and sometimes it even felt like we were real police... but the network holds all the leverage, and nobody in ops wants to have their name on any paperwork that might "affect the product." All about dodging blame... couple officers die? Them sychers don't give a rats.

I sigh.

"Remember that time Princy took a bullet in the arse?" I can't help but smile, "rode all the way back to H.Q. with his cheeks hangin' out the window and laughin' like a sonofabitch. Couldn't sit right for weeks! Didn't he make the reel..." meaning he was on the show, "for that one... shiite. Arcpenny... he probably saved our hides more times than we know."

I raise the glass and down it, again.

Rich

Arcpenny laughs that deep laugh of his that comes out like a chortle, and smiles. Raises his glass, "Princy's chapped ass trended for a week! To Princy the most famous Fipper! " He clinks your glass and drinks a long sip. "Hey, remember when you busted your arm crawling down that mineshaft, couldn't get back up? Fuggin' Princy tried to crawl in after you, ended up getting stuck! Then he... " he stops because he starts snickering, "He fuggin' pulls out a stick of butter from his pack and greases his monkeyass down to slither through. Splinted your arm and tranqed you for the pain so I could wench you up. Funniest damn thing."
The laughter continues for a bit, then it dies off, and he asks, "Did you two actually kiss down there, Stazie? Always wondered."

scott

We get lost, a little, in that warm glow of reminiscence. Easy to forget, for a while, that I'm a non-person and he's... I guess... wholly and legally superior to me in pretty much every regard.

I still don't know what my legal status is. Am I missing? Deceased? I don't think I've actually been charged with a crime... sometimes on quiet nights I wonder if my apartment is still sitting out there just how I left it.

"Are you kiddin? Me? Make out with Princy one-armed and with the man all slickened up wtih butter? How fuggin' romantic, Captain!" I laugh, joyful melancholy pouring out... "Hey anyway didn't... didn't Princy have a girlfriend? That girl outta psyops... forget her name... they ever get serious?"

I cringe a bit, why am I asking? The answer's only going to hurt. I gotta keep this in check. I almost place the glass back on the table... a long exhale... instead I hold out my hand for a refill.

I don't know what will happen when this conversation ends.

Rich

The laughter dies at your question and he clears his throat, looks down at your glass and refills it before answering, "Steffi. He proposed last month, they hadn't set a date."

He finishes his drink, but doesn't pour another.

What do you do?

scott

Nothing to fuggin' say. I wipe the corner of an eye with the back of my wrist. Lower my still-empty glass and place it on the corner of his desk with a "clack."

"B-town East, huh? You could do worse, Captain," much worse. "I'll swing by... when the winds blowin' the right way." I shrug, sadly, feeling how far away my world has become. But I try not to show it, keep a smile on my face. "You'll be all right, ops knows you're a stand up officer... once the shiitestorm cools down you'll land somewhere sweet." My voice cracks on that last word... who am I to give career advice? To give him comfort?

I swallow, taste that last bit of fine (relatively) liquor cool my throat.

"Or..." an insane suggestion crosses my mind. I quickly squash it, blink and shake my head.

"Don't let'em get to ya, Captain. Could be worse."

Rich

He takes a moment to reflect before answering. "Stazie, you should swing by. The post gives me a flat, more room than I'll ever need. You can crash there, when you want. And no, that's not a come on. There's a whole separate bedroom. Nice floor plan. Decent AR tech in there, too."
He looks down at the empty glass in his hands. "Somebody needs to pay for Princy, Stazie."

scott

Keep calm. He's talking about breaking all kinds of rules on my account... wait. Is he askin' a price?

"You know revenge ain't my thing," I glance at my helmet where I left it on a chair, maybe this is more business than I thought. Hope not.

"But captain I'd like to know who hit'cha," I tighten a fist, it does make me angry, "if you know who I oughta be eyes-out for I'll burn a breeze when I find'em... and I'd like to see 'em havin' difficulties." I may be known for the occasional understatement, "For sure."

I don't really believe in vengeance, and truth is I don't know what I'm gonna do. I'd leave it to the Captain but It seems like his access to the interior will be limited, at best. But I ain't gonna outright promise to take someone out when I don't even know the particulars.

"So you got a name of this sack'a shiite? Or whose colors they run with?"

Rich

"It was a mission against Dremmer. Of the United Front." Arcpenny answers solidly. "Those same assholes you trounced in the Arena. I saw The Feed, it was a good one. You haven't lost anything, Stazie. But the mission went pear-shaped, and we got fugged. I think someone tipped him off."

scott

I nod. "I know Dremmer... 'course UF don't share fleas...." I think a moment, surprised if Arcpenny doesn't know this, "but we're pretty much on his home turf here, Captain. Wouldn't surprise me to find him polishin' jingle yonder at The Pit..."

I gesture in the general direction of the place. My sense of direction should be spot on even here.

"And... uh..." little warmth of pride behind my cheeks, "thanks."

Rich

Arcpenny walks around to his desk, bending over to open a different drawer, pulls out something about the size of an Altoids box, then comes around to hand it to you, "First of all, I stole this off a prisoner, and if they catch you with it, I never saw it." He puts the thing in your hand, and sure enough, it is an Altoids box. "This is a white noise generator. Shuts down The Feed in short bursts. Won't hold much of a charge, but if you need to, you know, do something off the record, this is your golden ticket. I give this to you so you know, ah... you're being watched."

scott

Of course I'm being watched. But I figure they don't feature me... I'm probably a black mark on the service. Probably.

I take a good look at the device, but don't yet take it. "Lots'a hardware making it's way into the place these days huh?"

I don't dare ask about June's inquiry about cyberware and the United Front. But it can't hurt to bring up the subject... maybe he'll say something useful.

Then I look from the device back up to his face, "I ain't never taken on wetwork, Captain. If puttin' him low for what he done is your intention then you remember me poorly. Dremmer deserves payback... but jus' take him out, even for what he did... that ain't me."

The more I think about this the less I like it. UF is at best currently a rival. Any shots fires from my side will make an enemy of them.

"If that's your intention then you just hold onto that," I again glance at the device. And back at him.

Rich

Arcpenny clenches his jaw, he's angry about you flat-out turning him down like that, Cinch. He stands there for a moment, still holding the Altoids box. "Well, the piece of shite's already in DVFP. What payback are you fuggin' proposing Stazie? A harshly written letter?" He takes the box back, places it on the edge of his desk.

scott

I feel the burn behind my eyes. He's playin' me on my loyalties.

"I don't fuggin know! You think that's how it is? Every fuggin day the same in here? Makes no matter?" He's fugged up, feels his failure burning in his head... missing Princy and feeling impotent.

I can relate, take a deep breath.

"Look... Captain. If I do this," I glance at the device, "then my life gets a whole lot more treacherous. UF'll be all over my ass and if you haven't noticed, I'm a gang of one..." I hold up one finger, "and that fugger and his pals took out the unit?"

A flash of emotion shows on my face... I'm pretty good at staying stoic when it's business but now I'm here... talking about my life. And it stings.

I shrug, "is that what you're really askin' me to do?"

Rich

"Stazie," Arcpenny retorts with some frustration in his tone, "Your fuggin' life is treacherous because you walked out of the one you had! You left us for this shite-hole for some... adventure? For some weird vacay?" He takes a breath, moving over to sit on the corner of his desk, right beside the white noise generator. "I could toss some barter your way. You could buy up a team. Hell, make it look like Cinch versus the UF, I don't give a rat's ass."

scott

He's getting me hot. Not in the good way.

"Fugg it, Captain!" I lose my cool and shout, "did you bring me in here to say adios to our old friend? Hell for a second I thought you might actually be human! Still just givin' me shiite about not following fuggin' orders? Yeah I left the fuggin unit! Your unit! You figure out why yet?"

I sweep a hand around, the world out there, "and... and I'll have you know I'm doing all fuggin' right at it, too! The network treats this place like shiite! People fuggin' born here did nothin' wrong in the world and we... no... you fuggers watch this shiite for fun!"

I take a step towards him, angry, gloved hand curled into a fist at my side.

"Thank goodness Princy ain't here to see you askin' me to kill for him. Thank fuggin' goodness," I spit the last words up at him. "Keep your fuggin' toys. I'd rather live on my side'a the wall than listen to any more unauthorized procedural bullshiite."

A large part of me wants to deck him, but I won't. I scoop up my helmet and tuck it under an arm.

Walkin' out of he ain't stoppin me.

Rich

He doesn't stop you from leaving, but you hear him grab the little tin off his desk, throw it into the desk drawer and slam it shut angrily.

Once you're back out in the heat, you were supposed to find Esco, right? Where do you look?

scott

I flip the door the bird over my shoulder as I leave, just have this frustration welled up inside. Like I needed this shiite!

I wipe my brow with a sleeve, throw my helmet back on my head and march outta the genera vicinity towards the car. I asked Esco to wait up for me there but I doubt he's standing 'round in the heat... Esco's not the kind of guy who just waits... not unless it's profitable.

"Rocksuckers," I grumble as the facility recedes behind me.

If Esco ain't here then check the nearest watering hole. Failing that, then it's the nearest whorehouse... maybe he's looking for new hires.

Rich

You head up to your car, no Esco. You check the little bar at High Rent, after the guards recognize you and say their "heys" to the big autoduel star, no Esco. Bartender offers you a drink, though, says he'd love to have a drink with you. What do you do?

scott

Is this... Dremmer's place? I nod back to the guards, fake-punch one of 'em in the shoulder as I pass.

Yeah, I take the offer of a drink, pretty much never a good idea to turn down food or drink when offered... almost never... but I got two shots in me and I gotta keep steady. So just nurse it.

As he's pouring, I ask, "Hey... you seen Esco in here? The fella from the Diamond, prolly ordered somethin' flush."

Rich

That's what you've heard, yeah. Still, The Fat Man's in control of Depot proper. Dremmer and the United Front are moving this way, like Monkeywrench told you at Truk Stop before, why they're gonna shut down the Megahol Refinery to bleed 'em dry.

The guards are cordial, they like you. The bartender, who is tending a lonely bar right now, hovers near, gives you space when it seems like you need it. "Esco? I don't know an Esco, but I heard Diamond was recruiting whores, I guess he's with them. Nobody named Esco been through here. You s'posed to take 'im back?"

scott

"Yeah... kinda my job..." I try to control my breathing, which I just realize has been a little ragged. Let Arcpenny get to me a bit. Not good. He's the past.

"Thanks for the drink... can't tell ya how much I needed one," I continue. "'fraid I got right distracted and the ol'bugger disappeared on me." I smile and shrug. Not like he was payin' but I do like how the man talks. Better than drivin' back alone.

"Been seein' a lot of UF colors 'round here lately? Feels like I can't throw a rock without hitting a Union Jack on the roads these days."

Rich

The bartender nods, puts his elbow on the polished wooden bar. "Yeah. Used to be that all the gangs were small, so Fat Man's guard could keep them civil here in Depot. Now gangers are rallying to big banners and it feels like a big fight's coming. Aint squat we can do about it, but keep on, keepin' on, right?"

Rich

Esco,
You head off with Isle to grab a room at High Rent. She whistles a tune along the way that you know, what is it? Before paying for the room, you stop by the bar to pick up something to drink, and see Cinch at the bar.

Cinch, while you're chatting with the bartender, Esco and one of the Zons come in from the outside.

Adam

Believe it or not, I had an ex-zon girl workin' my floors for a few months — a temporary gig while she worked out some shite with Last about a baby. She didn't look the type that had a baby, but I don't ask questions when folks are working shite out between 'em.

Wichita, her name was. Bad-arse woman, with tits of steel. Had a hell of a voice on her. Not soft, like Sierra's, though... Hard, and confident. More like a warcry. She used to sing that song at the top of her lungs when she snogged the shite out of some poor sucker — they'd always come outta that room, brandishing their iron like they tamed a savage beast with it. Wichita always came out after 'em, and slapped their arse, like she was sendin' 'em off to start shite.

I asked her once, before she left, what that was about... Apparently it's some old song in a dead tongue. She swore it was about a warrior's conquest — but I think she just liked the way it sounded comin' out her mouth. Like a wild dog on the hunt — let the spirit run free.

Wichita always drinks free when she wanders in my bar. Helluva woman.

"Cinch! Well fek me — guess I didn't need to leave that message back at the pit after all. I uh... You ain't in a rush to get outta here, are you?"

scott

A nod at the barkeeps words of wisdom. Keep on keepin' on. Yeah.

Someone with as perceptive an eye as Esco might smell a bit o'drink on me. Not ragin' drunk but it's clear I put down a drink or two.

"Speak 'o the devil and the devil doth appear!" I say to the barkeep and with a hand on the edge of he bar, stand to address Esco.

"Ain't no hurry a'tall Esco... hell of a thing," if he lookin' like he wants to sit at the bar with me? "think I'm off the clock today, reckon you're my only cargo."

If he looks apt to join me then I sit back down, otherwise thank the barkeep and head out with Esco.

Rich

Isle looks at you, Cinch, then says to you, Esco, "If you wanna grab a drink or two, that's alright. Any more and I'll be wishing I didn't leave my girls. Get me?"

She looks over at you, Cinch, and clarifies, "We were gettin' a room and were gonna party. I guess you can join, but you can't be selfish."

Adam

The thought of Isle thinking Cinch would take her up on that offer puts a smile on my face. I slip Isle my share of the room fees for the night, and the bottle of booze. "Go ahead and grab us a room — I'll be up in a few with another bottle of the good stuff... Get yourself warmed up, eh? If she takes it, I'll grab a seat with Cinch at the bar.

"Blazin' hell — wot're you drinkin'. I take it lover boy fipper didn't impress if you're here drinkin' the good stuff?"

Rich

"Don't make me wait too long, Esco." Isle says as she puts an arm around you and squeezes a little. "I'm gonna take a shower first. When I'm out, I better not be lonely, yeah?" She gives you a kiss on the cheek, then nods to you, Cinch and heads off with the jingle, swaying her hips as she does.

Adam

I'm distracted by the sight of Isle's backside for a moment, but when she's out of sight, I turn my attentions back to Cinch.

scott

Esco, Esco, Esco. Not surprised. I have to smile softly and shake my head.

"Thanks for the offer," I raise a hand, palm out, politely decline, "you two have a good time..."

Esco takes a seat, I adjust my position in a bit to facilitate chatting.

"Not impressed, Esco... Not impressed," I raise my glass to show him my drink, ""I leave ya for fifteen minutes and you're goin' upstairs with such a perty stranger?" Assuming she's a stranger, I whistle, "you never fail to impress!"

Adam

I laugh, and take a bow. "Doctor's orders... Well, JD's orders. Never mess with a man wielding a shotgun." I order a bottle of the Bartender's finest, and a pair of glasses of whatever Cinch is drinkin' — one for her, and one for me. "I've been stabbin' too many folks, and gettin' beat up on account of me bein' stupid," apparently — or so everyone seems to think. I point to the scar Kettle left on my lip, a point of pride. "I cooked off some Fippers. Wot about you? Clearly you've got better shite to do than turnin' down an offer with a pretty stranger... "

scott

I laugh in return, "pretty sure she don't have a shotgun, at least... and I wager nine outta ten 'gainst her bein' a man."

The new drink arrives, "I learned I owe some Rocksucker a stompin' but it feels like the world's conspirin' to get my ass drunk," I slide the drink towards me, in line with the last. "I'm inclined to cooperate."

He gets my attention with the fipper talk, "heard about that... what'd you do to get them all riled up? Been a rash o'violence 'round The Irons lately but that ain't oughta get FPS on your ass like that."

Adam

My face goes sideways at Cinch's first sentence — I dunno who she thinks said what, or who has a shotgun, but it don't matter. "Gettin' drunk's better than stompin' some arsehole's face in for reasons that don't affect you." I grab my drink from the bar, and take a sip — somethin' I ain't normally inclined to do. "I fek'd Sierra... Pissed off some loopy piece of work 'sub-warden' who decided I needed my arse stomped. The whole thing went nine different kinds of stupid. Sierra threatened to kill herself, I said some shite I probably shouldn't have, and now here I am — short a buncha girls, a deal fallen through, and my arse lookin' less attractive than it was before."

I take another sip, and look over to her, "So who're you supposed to stomp?"

scott

I listen... yeah the comment about the shotgun and stuff was a joke. Maybe I don't tell it right.

"Dremmer," I shake my head, "U.F. hardass. He took out an old friend, and things bein' what they are I guess telling him off falls in my lap."

I swirl the drink around in the glass.

"Is Sierra all right?" I realize that I urged her to give the finger to ... whoever... "Esco if there's anyone I can count on to turn shiite into puddin' it's you. But I do wanna hear more about this sub-warden... might not be much we can do 'bout it though... but if there's anythin' I can do for ya."

I just nod. Volunteering, I guess.

Adam

Dremmer... Wasn't that the owner of the pit? I take another sip of my drink, and chuckle at the idea of turnin' shite into pudding... Shite pudding. I shrug indifferently when she volunteers to help with the sub-warden. "I'd already worked out a deal with the Fipper who beat my arse before Sierra decided to threaten them. They had orders not to touch her... She got zapped for pissin' 'em off. I wouldn't say she's fine — but she ain't been beat on, or nothin'. I've been avoiding her, truth be told — I made the mistake of developin' feelings for her, and I think I spooked her."

Great, now I'm thinkin' of this shite again... I shake my head, and wave a hand dismissively. "She's fine, and presumin' that deal I made with the Fipper comes through, I doubt I'll ever have to worry about that stupid witch sub-warden ever again... This Dremmer business, though... I think he's an operator here. I could help you. Get him out to the Diamond. Have my boys mess him up for you. Get you off scott-free."

scott

Concern on my face. I know what those stun-sticks do to you. We each had to get zapped by one in training... that ain't fun.

Not surprised Esco fekked her... little more surprised that he's got those kind of feelings for her. Kind of surprised that Esco has anything the FPS would take for a deal. Really?

"That so?" he probably sees a little hopeful look. I know very well that personally taking out Dremmer will pretty much ruin my tenuous relationship with U.F. but... damn. Does Dremmer really deserve that? Probably we all deserve a beating for something.

I lower my voice, lean to touch shoulders with Esco, "Esco I don't wanna put you in a bad place with U.F... ain't you got enough trouble with the fat man?"

From what I heard.

Adam

I shrug, "If that deal goes through, they won't even have a way of knowing it was me. Fat Man apparently does want in on the Irons, but wot the fek do I care? If he's gunna come, he's gunna come... If you've gotta snuff out Dremmer, then you need options. I started the Diamond specifically to give folks options."

scott

He can see something in my eyes when he says "snuff out Dremmer" and I just tense.

"Esco... you're doin' good stuff at the Diamond... givin' lotsa people a place and a fair chance." I shake my head, Pound a fist on the bartop. "But fugg it... Dremmer... revenge ain't a thing I got in my head... not the killin' kind."

I quickly down my last drink and pause to feel the burn.

"Don't want him dead on my account... let 'im be."

Adam

I throw my hands up in surrender, before noddin' and pounding back the rest of my drink. "Alright, alright... You do you, yeah?" I stand up, feelin' pretty good from the buzz. "You good to leave tomorrow? Payment as soon as we make it to the Diamond — maybe a few more drinks too."

scott

Sigh. Yeah I know I'm the freak here not wanting to see the guy iced. Law of the jungle... so to speak. Breakin' the law.

"Yeah, tomorrow's good," I slide the glass back onto the bar, give it a little spin and watch it slowly spin and stop. "Roads are gettin' hot with all the warrin' that looks to be startin' up. But you're in good hands."

Adam

I smile. "I never woulda thought otherwise!"

Rich

Esco, I'm assuming you're heading up to your room for the night. Please go here.

Cinch, the bartender slides back over when Esco leaves and says, "Hey there, couldn't help hearing that you're staying in Depot for the night." He gives a half smile, "You need a place to crash?" Holds up a hand, "Just a place to crash, nothing more. There's an empty couch in my suite. I get paid in booze and a room."

scott

I take a good look at the guy, been sitting here with him for a while now and I don't think I've gotten any creeper vibes. I lean back in my chair, hook a foot under the bar to keep from tippin' over backwards.

"Sure... hey why not. Yeah. Didn't expect this to be an overnight so that'll do me right," I tip my helmet back, smile, "didn't catch your name?"

Rich

"Name's Peppering." He answers in a grateful tone. You get the feeling not many ask his name. "So we're clear, Cinch... if you want some company, I'm not opposed to the idea. But it's not a requirement for the offer of a place to sleep. Hell, having a celebrity in my room's pretty damn great." Peppering's not half bad-looking. He's in his thirties, with a decent build and good teeth.

OOC: Dremmer of the UF DOES own The Pit.

scott

Awkward.

"Uhh. Yeah thanks but," maybe if I'd had another couple drinks, this day has not put me in the mood, "think I'll just take that couch, Peppering."

Really? A celebrity?

"Gonna bring the car 'round, you wannit where folks can see? Back in two shakes."

I do appreciate his offer, but since I wasn't expecting an overnight I need to take care of the car. I'm pretty confident that it's not gonna get stolen. It's damn near impregnable unless you're shooting heavy weapons at it... and that would probably wake me... not to mention the implant should give me a buzz if there's any concerning activity.

Rich

Peppering eagerly agrees to the show-off of the car, and you head off to get it from the garage. You head out into the heat of the late afternoon, and right as you're passing Shady Shops, you see a fight's going down between some UFers and some other folks. You see Mimi up on the back of the UF truck, and that guy by the hood of the truck... is that Gigg?

What do you do?

scott

A little whistle to myself. What the hell?

I stop, hug the wall and slowly make my way in, quickly size up the situation and unhook my holster.

I didn't expect to find Mimi again so soon, and not involved in an open fight with UF. Looks like she's on Gigg's side, too. And he just took a bullet, huh?

Reading the sitch.

scott

[CINCH]
Read the sitch:
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 4, 3. Total: 8)

scott

[CINCH]
Question: "Which enemy is vulnerable to me?"

Whose side am I on? Probably Gigg & Mimi right? Probably.

Rich

Mortar Boy is the easy target, and you could shoot him from here. He's kinda busy, he'd be an easy target. If you want to stick your nose in it.

scott

No time to think, really, huh? Heavy weapon in the middle of The Depot? Looks to be trying to blast Gigg? Well... that is what it would take.

This is exactly the kind of shiite I don't want to get involved in with UF, though... but there ain't time to think.

I draw my magnum, aim up, steadied with a shoulder against the wall and put a bullet in the unfortunate fella with the mortar. Gonna regret this.

scott

[CINCH]
Go Aggro (Sucker) The Felle with the mortar:
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 2, 2. Total: 5)
xp(1)

Rich

Cinch, you brace, aim and squeeze, and take mortar guy in the neck before he's able to drop the shell in the pipe. He drops to a knee, then Mimi tackles him from behind, too committed to her move to stop, and just to make sure, she stabs him six times in the back and neck, growling with fury.

As he falls and Mimi stabs the corpse, you look across and see Gigg. Just past him, you catch a UF biker, who sure as shite saw this, and he takes off, the loud whine of his engine burbling as he chews up dirt and zips through the open gate.

Please join Gigg here.