Esco,
You're sitting in one of four tables at The Pit, which is what they're calling this swill-serving thrash metal dunghole now. You recognize Krin and Brace Win from Last's Zons from just a few days ago, they're sitting with Ace from the Skorpions while most of that go gang is moshing in the center of the open space in the middle of the place. It's hot, no A/C, just flaps of tents overhead and open-air. The bar's not half bad, but the stock is terrible. You recognize a few UFers from their Union Jacks, they just walked in. It's a powder keg.
But the beer's cheap. What do you do?
Comments
Still — cheap booze is cheap. I make my way over to the bar, order myself a drink, and motion for the tender to come closer. "Marrow still runnin' this cesspool, or did he take his cut and bolt — like I told him to?"
Since then, it's been non-stop cover-up, and fixin' shite. I've been tryin' these last few days to get things back to normal, avoidin' Sierra like the plague; but until I get back there with some fresh blood, and a clear head, I'm gunna find myself on the defensive. More than a few folks suggested I spend some time away from the bar, snog someone I don't give a fek about to clear my head, maybe get blazed out on somethin' stronger than whiskey...
Problem is, I always feel alone in places like this... When you own a bar, you can't walk into a joint and not get into the headspace of an operator. Even now, I'm chattin' up the bartender like he's fekin' JD — lookin' for opportunities, thinkin' 'bout how to fix this mess of a setup to get more action going...
Blazin' hell.
I take a shot, and order a bottle of the cheapest shite they've got. I'm up for some adventure, for a change — make some fekin' mischief.
June, you come into The Pit to find three gangs sitting, drinking, and moshing. Last is with her girls, and Ace from the Skorpions. Rothschild breaks away from you to head to the bar. She'll keep an eye out for you from there.
Esco's at the bar, of all people. Doesn't he have his own?!?
What do you do?
I double-take at the sight of Rothschild at the door, let a lone June. There's a pair of individuals who're meant for each other... Where's that 20 foot pole when you need it?
Heh heh. I'm funny. This stuff is fekin' strong!
Rothschild played me back inna day — we got wasted together following a major find by Norvell and his folks. A bunch of confiscated "contraband" the Fippers buried in the mines, from the lives of folks who'd been put in here for their crimes. We scrogged with the worst case of whiskey-dick I'd ever had, and passed out together in my room... Except she didn't pass out. She swiped a bunch of swag... I'd wager most of it wasn't for her — but there was a knapsack she stole that I'd noticed before, on account of her name bein' on it — not sure it was hers per se, but it seemed to interest her. What was in it, I don't know. I hadn't gotten to digging around in it yet.
So she runs off with it, and a bunch of shite worth about as much to other folks. I don't hear from her for a few months — until Vince and his boys say they knocked over this group of scavs out on the rim of Irons territory. Wouldn't that exact fekin' bag be in the spoils? With some of her shite no less... I've got that bag locked up tighter than a blazebrain in solitary back in my office. Frankly, I'm not sure whether to approach her or not...
I decide to stay here at the bar for now, and let her recognize me — see how she reacts. Besides — I ain't seen Junebug in a long while, now... What's she doin' all the way out here?
Scorchin' hell. Sheetfire, of course he sees me, seein' him, and if I just skate my eyes past his like I didn't see him, he'll get it in his head that I needed to. I hold his eyes just long enough that he knows I've seen him, give him a short nod, then move to sit with Last and Ace.
I almost want to pull Rothschild back to keep her close with me, but I don't.
What in Sam Hill is he doin' all the way out here?
"Last, and hey, Ace! How's my timin'?" I lead in as I find a seat.
I watch June sit down next to them, and I'm surprised to find myself a little disappointed she didn't come over here... Can't say I'm surprised or nothin' — last I saw her I slit the throats of some dozen blazebrain arseheads in broad daylight...
Still... That's her business, and I don't meddle in folk's business... Not sober, anyway.
I take another swig of the booze, and look over to Rothschild, all but broadcasting my desire to chat.
She's talking trade, playing into your wheelhouse. Her eyes drift to June from time to time.
You come into The Pit to find Last sitting at a table with a Skorpion along with her Zons and June, too. Esco is sitting at the bar with Rothschild, they're sharing a bottle or rotgut and chatting. The dance floor is full of gangers moshing and thrashing.
Esco,
You spot Gigg coming in, by himself. He looks to be in good health, and nobody's giving him any trouble.
"June," Last says with a nod. She looks to Krin, who grabs a chair from a nearby table, that wasn't exactly empty. "Take a load off. Thanks for the help earlier. He's a real fugger, aint he?"
You spot Gigg after a few minutes of catching up.
"I'd like to break my foot off in his ass, but it would be a waste of a perfectly good foot." I take Ace's hand and give it a clasp and a custom handshake while I answer Last.
"I was worried you might feel a little deprived by that turn, Ace, but she's workin' out with me." I smirk expressively when she mentions Joe's Girl. Beckett's gonna love hearin' about this. "I haven't seen her since yesterday. She's a fast girl, so I don't know where she is by now, but.."
When Gigg rolls up, I give him a nod, lookin' at the glass circles that substitute for his eyes.
I spot Last amid a crowd that includes June. Ugh. I'd rather storm a 0.50-cal on a van than approach that table. Instead, I crack open the bottom of my mask and let the pooled sweat drain, and then just stand there. It'd be so easy just to duck out and retreat back to the Junkyard.
And I almost do... hard convos ahead I think, and I ain't good at talking. And suddenly I miss my talks with Pops in the mirror, and I'm tempted to whip it out and ask him what I should do. Take a few steps and join the group, or run like the blazes. It's sick to miss him like this sometimes.
I figure I need something to kind make me angry enough to walk over to Last's table, and then I have remembering flashes of Mimi talking about June messin' around in her head, and suddenly my dander is up and I stride over to Last and the group.
Gigg, Ace and June are chatting, but they stop when you come near.
The Amazon's clearly don't want Gigg here. Not in one piece. Last, though - cool like water. Huh.
Tough to read someone in a mask. Still, 'something that might interest me'...might interest me. "Sure, I'll hear you out." I glance at Last in case she has some kind of clue plain on her face for me where Gigg does not. Plus I need to figure out if I have to stand and do that whole operation.
"Well you enjoy your stay at high rent, Rothschild. High luxury ain't somethin' us lifers are prone to — but apparently, crime pays quite well... Did you ever find the owner of that bag I showed you, back inna day?" Fek... Why am I so fekin' bitter? ... This fekin' Sierra shite... I need to snog somethin'...
Well, Last has clearly made her choice. I'll have to find my own road into spyin' on Saint Anger. I look at that stick..
Readin' Gigg; (Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 1, 4. Total: 7)
Marking XP; (3)
I fix my jacket, feelin' surprisingly steady on my feet... "Huh," I say, lookin' coolly back at Roth, "I ain't a lightweight no more..." Who's the sexiest creature in this bar?
My hand on the stick, I haul myself up with Gigg's help. "I could do with one, you're right. You smoke, Gigg?"
What's your character really feeling?
Rothschild doesn't push it, lets you go and takes the insult. She also takes the bottle, of course. When you move away from the bar, you catch the eye (as in her sole good one) of Ace. Also, one of the Zons, this girl named Isle:
She offers up a smile your way that gets a chuckle and an elbow from Brace Win, one of her fellow gangers, but Isle keeps smiling.
I'm not the biggest fan of this place, myself. I look over to Rothschild to see if she sees me goin'..see how she's doin', too.
"You know, I must have missed it," I play into his joke gamely. "Maybe another time."
The movement of the people in the Pit is like a singular writhe to me when I close my eyes, a dull buzz of clashing interests.
When we're out in the open air, I light up and ask Gigg casually, "So what did you come across that needs my attention?"
I look over to June, and feel a wave of generosity overcome me — like I should warn her about Roth, or somethin', bein' a thief and all. Not that I'm any better, or anything — just honor among thieves ... Wait a second, when the fek did Gigg get here? ... Well, it looks like they're on the move as well. Maybe I'll catch them outside. I ain't here to be a creep, or nothin'... I won't go interruptin' whatever it is they're chatting about.
Besides — I gotta woo me a girl in warpaint.
But, I thought you should know I caught someone dogging you today. This prolly ain't news to you, but jus in case. When I came out of Tum-Tum's tent earlier, I spied this urchin hidin', starin' a burning hole through that tent. And she wasn't lookin' for Last or me, and she was far too scoundrelly and beggarly to be one of Tum's lookouts. I figgered she was on your tail. So, I snatched her up, got inner face, and I was right. She was tailin' you. Turns out she's some one-armed ex-UF'er named Mimi. Ring a dinner bell? She was mos def not there to express her love and gratitude." I pause to see what June's reaction might be.
"Might be too soon for that action. I'll find another angle." Surely Rothschild will be grateful, and I'm not gonna play it grumpy with this fella when I still got somethin' I wanted for free.
I puff on my cig and listen to Gigg's story as he lays it out. Tailin' me? That doesn't make sense? Ah. Mimi. I sigh, disappointed. She's still in Depot, and she's still not taken control of herself. I can feel the unsatisfied knot inside of her through the Feed even now. At least the UF hasn't found her. "I doubt she would be, we are not friends. She tried to poison and kidnap me, I did her a rough turn back. Thanks for stopping her from whatever was on her mind..even if it wasn't necessary."
"Listen, I am going to do her the favor of getting her out of the Depot and away from the UF, for her own safety. She'll either starve, or they'll find her and do God knows. Gonna give her temporary refuge at the Junkyard. You're done with her, right? They'll be nothing between us if I help her out and give her a fresh start? Doesn't seem like she has any friends."
Sometimes the ego is the only part of us that defends itself. But it doesn't nourish us, does it?
I work hard to stay still as he leans in towards me, keep air from pushin' out from or pullin' in through the cig so there's less smoke.
'You're done with her' .. only one reason to say that. "You do that, Gigg. I'd rather she be free from the UF, believe me or not. If she starts wantin' a new arm, don't let her go back to Parcher." Not that he'll be continuin' operations for much longer, if I have my way. "Let her know I'll leave her alone..and to you I'll say the moment she owns herself, she'll have nothin' to fear from me."
If I could perform some regret right now, maybe I would. I don't regret what I did, though. Still, bein' in her mind..pushing her out of that arena..it purged my hate.
I burn about a third of my little death-stick down in one slow but determined draw. He's describing what could be severe schizophrenia, or a serious but somewhat boutique dissociative disorder. He doesn't think it's me, and of course it isn't me. Could be someone workin' for TFM, though, some constructed sickness.
I've seen a whole lot of blazin' hell in this place, and what I need to do is classic compartmentalizin' - bodily terror goes here, doctor's attitudes go here, today's hustle and memories go here, paranoia about who controls Feed resources in DVFP here. Got to line myself up right because what's in front of me is a person.
My face turns aside, and I stare not at Gigg or some middle distance, but the tips of my fingers and the red-hot glow as I breathe out a whole cloud. "Freedom is a real puzzle. It takes control and tending to. Knowledge and decisions, and a peace with the decisions you don't make..you're never done bein' free, once you start."
I look back at him. I try to see him, blood and shame. "I'll keep an eye on you, make calls when I can. It sounds like you know better than you think, Gigg, the things you need."
"I got a couple prescriptions for you, though. I want you to keep a journal. Not on any video or talkback recordin' either, on paper. If you can't write, draw it. Next..is there anythin' that happens before these voices call on you? You mark those things. Stay aware."
One more puff, then I ask. "And lastly..do you wear that helmet every day?" Almost a dumb question, so many people here, the clothes on their back are their core possessions, bit..
But June does think I know the things I need to do, and I feel confidence and assurance flowing in, knowing that, receiving that. I'm nodding, "Yeah, I do know what I need to do, June, I do. You're right." She's tracking with me. Understanding what I have to do. I look around making sure the coast is clear, that no one else is in earshot, and I move in closer to June with my back to the "street", "I've got to make this quick." and I'm peeling off my mask and helmet and now holding them loosely at my side.
The bones of my face have grown and formed around the obvious shape of a shoe or boot, made long ago like when someone impresses their print into wet cement, and then it dries and hardens. Ridges and flats where there shouldn't be, skin not stretched in the right places, hanging loosely in other places, hair growing here and there, and not growing elsewhere.
"I've got to find someone, June. Where it is they hide in their secret place. Someone very powerful. The one that pushes all the buttons and makes us all do what he wants. And I think Tum-Tum probably knows where to find him. I'm not talking about the general place where everyone knows he's at. But exactly the place. The room. But ya see, if I go into Tum's tent and try to buy that info, June, he'll know that I'm asking. It's over before it even starts, right? So, can you help me get it without anyone -- even Tum-Tum -- knowing I know? Can you? It's the one thing I need to do to get free of him. Listen, I can do things, things that would kill other people, I can get them done. It's the thing I do. It's why Chaz would pick me up. It's why Last's got me on a leash when her gals would rather be seein' me dead. If you can get this this for me, I'd be in your debt, June, I'd owe you something that no one else would be able to do, if you can help me find out where exactly he is.
(Rolled: 2d6-1. Rolls: 1, 1. Total: 1)
marks XP
June, you can ask Gigg to do something for you as if you'd rolled a 10+ to Manipulate him. Name it.
Due to The Unexpected, June will take S-Harm, but her HX goes to +3 with Gigg.
Of course I suspected some sort of facial injury, but I thought it would..well..still be in the same damnable nation as my own. This is a whole other continent of suffering, mortal confrontation and affect. Except for the bump into the wall of the Pit when he stepped towards me, I'm frozen.
I miss the first half of the words he pleads towards me with. He. Who's He? Oh hell, it's the Fat Man. Don't take a genius, which is alright because I don't feel like a genius right now.
Glancing to and fro, I try to think, but my thoughts flee. "If..if Tum Tum knew, with him not livin' in the palace already, he'd be killed. And me..I don't know. I don't know if I could get it. He's got just the kind of security that works against me." I lick my lips, distracted by my recollection of the laptop, the eight hundred fuggin' mass unit demands of his courier jobs. "I don't have the equipment to get around that yet. I need power, and tools."
Setting my Hx with Gigg to +3 as a result of The Unexpected
"Anyways... Yeah, yeah, you need power and ya need tools. I mean, June, that's what I do. I rhyme and I steal. One the best. And-and-and, me and Roth, we've already worked together before, you know. And I got a vehicle. I can getcha power and tools. Just say the word." I quickly fit the mask and helmet back in place, and back off June and give her a little space. Looking around and fiddling aimlessly with my gear like nothing just happened. "You asked if I wear this everyday... yeah, I got to. If I didn't, I'd never leave the Junkyard."
I nod through Gigg's explanation, willing myself to continue to look and see, to empathize and think. "Sure..right."
It's shakin' off, I think, even though this heat is poundin' down around us. Some of this sweat on my forehead has nothin' to do with heat, though.
"Alright. I know you're workin' somethin' for Last right now. Energizer Bunny. But when you're done with that, you come see me, and we'll work on a big ole rhyme and steal together." It's definitely easier when his surrogate face gets returned..but my imagination pieces the parts together, tryin' to compromise the rubber and the bootprint.
"And my first job in return, for you, is lookin' that noggin cap over. Then we'll see about your big secret." Worst comes, I can at least show him what I've seen of the inside of the palace.
If I was some terrible bastard with all the right tools and surveillance, I know what I'd do to Gigg.
"No, just two feet." I joke reflexively.
My brow furrows a little, where did he learn that math reference? This whole terrible, amazin' place. Just when you think your shell is fully shocked..