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[Snowpocalypse] Seven Months Later (L 6.1, R 6.1)
Seven months have passed since the sub was buried in ice and snow (and subsequently unburied by Lemma) and Silica and Hadden escaped Benton Harbor with the help of Rossi.
The sub, which now has a name (what is it, Lemma?), has become an actual, honest-to-goodness hold. Invert runs security with her gang, Arbor is in charge of the new miners who mine north, away from Underlake's claims. The food isn't plentiful, but it's subsistence. While Lemma is the workhorse behind the place, there's a go-to person, a hardholder who runs things: Tamedog. He's got a knack for getting people to work together, and while his methods are sometimes direct, sometimes brutal, he's smart enough to pick his spots.
Roxy and Molotov moved out of Chi-town, heading south. Burton has taken over the place, kept the name, reorganized the gang in charge of security. You've heard Never Summer was kicked out, that Trespass and Disaster are running the gang together now.
Underlake is still cut off from the world, and people are hurting for food, big time. There have been weekly gift offerings from Crossover and BM's, but Merrell has refused them.
Backside Misty passed on. The power is up and down there. Artec is running the place with some Lostkeys as help. The Amp Heads are running their own thing at Crossover. But nobody crosses-over to Underlake anymore, so they're a small clan at best, things are rough.
Lemma, even though you aren't a hardholder, you did discover and help populate this place. Let's build it out, alright?
Your holding has:
- 75-150 souls.
- for gigs, a mix of hunting, crude farming, and scavenging (surplus: 1-barter, want: hungry). Led by Hadden?
- the protection of a fucking sub! Your gang gets +2 armor when fighting in its defense.
- An armory of scavenged and makeshift weapons.
- A gang of about 40 violent people (3-harm gang medium unruly 1-armor). Led by Invert.
Choose 2 add-ons (that add to the above or change it):
- for gigs, add lucrative raiding. Surplus: +1barter, want: +reprisals.
- for gigs, add protection tribute. Surplus: +1barter, want: +obligation.
- for gigs, add a manufactory. Surplus: +1barter, want: +idle.
- for gigs, add a bustling, widely-known market commons. Surplus: +1barter, want:+idle.
- your gang is large instead of medium, 60 violent people or so.
- your gang is well-disciplined. Drop unruly.
- your armory is sophisticated and extensive. Your gang gets +1harm.
And Choose 2:
- your population is filthy and unwell. Want: +disease.
- your population is lazy and drug-stupored. Want: +famine.
- your population is decadent and perverse. Surplus: -1barter, want: savagery.
- your holding owes protection tribute. Surplus: -1barter, want: +reprisals.
- your gang is small instead of medium, only 10-20 violent people.
- your gang is a pack of fucking hyenas. Want: savagery.
- your armory is for shit. Your gang gets -1harm.
Now that's settled... let's see how your new population is holding up, Lemma. Roll me a +Sharp. On a 7-9, choose one option to be true. On a 10+, choose two.
* Arbor has kicked the ice, and mining is doing well lately, your hold does not want for food right now
* Invert's gang has made contact with some of the Underlakers who want to trade secretly: clothes and food for power and machine tools
* Poptart has made radio contact with Kemper, and he's requested a meeting with you
------------------------------
Rossi,
You've taken over the infirmary in the sub, right? Jester is working to keep people happy with music, but it isn't like he's doing gigs or trading for jingle. Red Brick's hit hard times, raided by some of the Salter up north, stripped down.
How are you set up here, now?
------------------------------
Once we've worked out the above, we'll kick off a scene with you waking up in the new and improved hold.
The sub, which now has a name (what is it, Lemma?), has become an actual, honest-to-goodness hold. Invert runs security with her gang, Arbor is in charge of the new miners who mine north, away from Underlake's claims. The food isn't plentiful, but it's subsistence. While Lemma is the workhorse behind the place, there's a go-to person, a hardholder who runs things: Tamedog. He's got a knack for getting people to work together, and while his methods are sometimes direct, sometimes brutal, he's smart enough to pick his spots.
Roxy and Molotov moved out of Chi-town, heading south. Burton has taken over the place, kept the name, reorganized the gang in charge of security. You've heard Never Summer was kicked out, that Trespass and Disaster are running the gang together now.
Underlake is still cut off from the world, and people are hurting for food, big time. There have been weekly gift offerings from Crossover and BM's, but Merrell has refused them.
Backside Misty passed on. The power is up and down there. Artec is running the place with some Lostkeys as help. The Amp Heads are running their own thing at Crossover. But nobody crosses-over to Underlake anymore, so they're a small clan at best, things are rough.
Lemma, even though you aren't a hardholder, you did discover and help populate this place. Let's build it out, alright?
Your holding has:
- 75-150 souls.
- for gigs, a mix of hunting, crude farming, and scavenging (surplus: 1-barter, want: hungry). Led by Hadden?
- the protection of a fucking sub! Your gang gets +2 armor when fighting in its defense.
- An armory of scavenged and makeshift weapons.
- A gang of about 40 violent people (3-harm gang medium unruly 1-armor). Led by Invert.
Choose 2 add-ons (that add to the above or change it):
- for gigs, add lucrative raiding. Surplus: +1barter, want: +reprisals.
- for gigs, add protection tribute. Surplus: +1barter, want: +obligation.
- for gigs, add a manufactory. Surplus: +1barter, want: +idle.
- for gigs, add a bustling, widely-known market commons. Surplus: +1barter, want:+idle.
- your gang is large instead of medium, 60 violent people or so.
- your gang is well-disciplined. Drop unruly.
- your armory is sophisticated and extensive. Your gang gets +1harm.
And Choose 2:
- your population is filthy and unwell. Want: +disease.
- your population is lazy and drug-stupored. Want: +famine.
- your population is decadent and perverse. Surplus: -1barter, want: savagery.
- your holding owes protection tribute. Surplus: -1barter, want: +reprisals.
- your gang is small instead of medium, only 10-20 violent people.
- your gang is a pack of fucking hyenas. Want: savagery.
- your armory is for shit. Your gang gets -1harm.
Now that's settled... let's see how your new population is holding up, Lemma. Roll me a +Sharp. On a 7-9, choose one option to be true. On a 10+, choose two.
* Arbor has kicked the ice, and mining is doing well lately, your hold does not want for food right now
* Invert's gang has made contact with some of the Underlakers who want to trade secretly: clothes and food for power and machine tools
* Poptart has made radio contact with Kemper, and he's requested a meeting with you
------------------------------
Rossi,
You've taken over the infirmary in the sub, right? Jester is working to keep people happy with music, but it isn't like he's doing gigs or trading for jingle. Red Brick's hit hard times, raided by some of the Salter up north, stripped down.
How are you set up here, now?
------------------------------
Once we've worked out the above, we'll kick off a scene with you waking up in the new and improved hold.
Comments
You might ask yourself if I feel safe now, and the answer is: I don't know. I don't know, but I've been able to hang up my gun for months now — albeit I still eye it cautiously every time there's a rap at the door. It's a force of habit. Invert gave me the shit we took from Poke's place, and I restocked the sub's infirmary... I'm the only person from here to Benton Harbor who knows how to really use it, so it makes sense I pick it up.
I cordoned off the back end of the infirmary for Jester and myself... It's got a small bed, cabinets, and a gun-rack. The mini-fridge is back there, and we've filled it with food and water, and some of the more sensitive drugs. You'll probably be interested to know we've stopped using the condoms... We're still being careful, and nothing unexpected's come of it, but it turns out they're just much more valuable to trade than to use — especially given how quickly we burn through them — but mostly it was to show Jester that I'm there for him no matter what happens. He needs to see that I trust him.
The infirmary itself is small, not much bigger than a walk-in closet. It's got one cot equipped for minor surgery and recovery, and a stretcher under it. The walls are lined with cabinets of medicine, supplies, and various tools I use to stitch people up... I've been trying to teach Jester how to do some of the less critical stuff, like splints, sutures, and tourniquets, while I handle the big stuff. I've been calling Em in from time to time when people get a little too rowdy for me to handle alone. Just an extra set of hands, and someone else willing to sucker punch an asshole that won't smarten the fuck up...
The policy with me is largely in-and-out. I want people to come to me, unashamed, when they've got a problem, and I try to fix them up as quickly as possible... Tight quarters make it pretty awkward when Jester and I draw the curtain at night — but I don't know how long I'll be willing to live in close quarters here... This city is toxic. One day, I hope to leave it behind.
-manufactory
-well-disciplined gang
-disease
-small gang
Marmot and I have worked on channeling the sub's supply of power into useful stuff, and there's more work than we have hands to do. It's tight down here, though, and we're working with castoffs and runaways. I can handle repairs and expansions, but I'm glad Tamedog is around. Turns out ample electricity doesn't solve as many of people's problems as I thought it would.
Custom roll +Sharp:
(Rolled: 2d6+2. Rolls: 4, 6. Total: 12)
contact with Underlake
Arbor kicked the ice
You're just finishing up with a check-up on Inessa. She's been concerned about a lump in her right breast. Does she have a right to be concerned, or is it just a scare? Inessa gives you a little hug, and is leaving when Jester comes in from outside.
Jester's got a very worried look on his face. He says hey to Inessa, waits for her to leave, but then he closes the curtain to talk with just you. "Rossi. I just chatted with Arbor. Tindy's giving birth. Like, right now. I... I don't know what I can do, but, you know, that's... my kid." He has a hand on your arm, he looks nearly frantic. "Not to mention, you know, Tindy's death sentence."
To Lemma:
Invert's in the bridge, chatting with Tamedog when you come in. Tamedog sent for you, sending along one of the runner kids that know this place as well as you do, and can move through quick and around folks. Is Marmot with you? Tamedog just "sent for you", didn't give a reason.
Invert opens up to include you, "Hey Lemma." Invert's wearing her short black dress, the one she wears in the sub. "I was telling Tame here that we got the first shipment of shit from Underlake."
Tamedog cuts in, "Need your help figuring out what we can afford to send back in trade."
Hey Lemma, when was the last time you saw Dubstep? Why isn't she down here in the sub?
I was feeling pretty good until Jester came traipsing in, stressing out about Tindy. Hadden told me about how he thought Tindy's kid was his, and given she may or may not have been fucking Merrell, and who knows who else, I'm less inclined to believe Jester's right. It could be his kid — but who the fuck really knows? I pull my hand out from his grip, and shake my head as I clean up the infirmary a bit, "Jester, we've been over this... We don't know the kid is yours. Unless you want to go in there guns blazing, through some secret tunnel Merr doesn't know about, then there's nothing you can do for her..." I finish putting my crap away, lock up the cabinet, and give him a sidelong glance, "what do you want me to do?"
Jester shifts a bit, "I don't... I don't know. I don't ever want to blaze guns. I only blaze... you know, weed. Mostly Stalefish's." He puts a hand on your shoulder, looks right at you. "You got a whole damn gang. If you can save Arbor, a guy you didn't even know. Then sure we can save Tindy, right? Then maybe we can just, I dunno, buy the kid?"
Jester sighs, frustrated and also not liking where the conversation is going. "No no no, Rossi. Not what I meant. I mean... they're going to take her up on the ice and let her freeze to death, just like Arbor. So, maybe you talk to Invert and she gets the gang to do the same thing? And this baby might not be mine. But it's coming, and there's no better place for it to live than here." He puts a hand on the side of your face, "We said we'd take it as it comes, right? It's not like mining is anywhere near what we could give this baby." He's on the verge of tears, Rossi.
... Fuck me... I can't even say no.
A sinking feeling fills my stomach. I can't even look at him right now. I walk over to the curtain and open it, pointing out towards the door. "Go find Invert, and tell her what's up... I'll get dressed and meet you out there."
"Rossi," Jester hesitates, sensing your mood. "I can. I can raise it, okay? If you want, I'll raise the baby. It isn't your responsibility. I just need your help right now, saving it. And Tindy." He doesn't try to grab you or anything, but he's reaching out nonetheless.
Jester takes a breath, holds it, then lets it out. He hasn't left. "Rossi. I love you. I'm married to you. I feel bad for Tindy, and if I can save her life when they drag her up on the ice, I will. It's the right thing to do. And I'm going, too. You can... you can stay here, just convince Invert to do this for me, alright? We can buy the baby later, but Tindy's life is on the line, you know?"
"Invert told me about you and her, you know," I whisper, shaking my head, "About how you slept together before we were together... How you called her Tindy... I've been trying to ignore it — but this is too much, Jester. I'm trying to start a life with you, but you keep digging up the past! She fucked you Jester, and put your fucking life at risk. Now you're begging your wife — not asking, begging on the verge of tears — to save her, and welcome a kid that may not even be yours into a family you're trying so desperately to start."
I'm trying not to raise my voice, but it's sure as hell cracking... I take a second to collect myself, and cross my arms defensively as I shift uncomfortably on my feet. "You know I'd never let you go out there alone," I finally answer, "you know it because you know I love you... You know I'd go up there alone if it meant keeping you safe. You're asking me to put your one night stand with that girl ahead of what we've built here Jester... Is that really what you want?"
Are you trying to Manipulate Jester to let this be? Sounds like it, even if that isn't exactly your intention. Not exactly.
OOC: Manipulate Jester to put Rossi over Tindy. roll+hot.
(Rolled: 2d6. Rolls: 2, 1. Total: 3)
He starts pacing, which in this small place is hard to do. "I don't want any more of my friends to die, okay? I've lost so many people..." Then his frustration becomes this weird demanding tone, "Sure, Tindy was stupid to fuck around on Merrell, and I know it was just a fling. So fine. Fine, forget her, alright? I'm not going to put her above you. So... so just let it go. forget I ever asked to save her ass. Because I was one of her stupid decisions, and she is just some dumb slut, right? Is that what you want to hear? Does that make it better?!?"
He stands there, panting, blinking at you and lost in the moment. Then Jester recovers to drop a few decibels, trying to find reason again, "Just... promise me this. If you've got some something in this med kit that can tell if that baby is mine, then come with me and test it. If it's mine, then help me make sure he or she or whatever is loved. Give me that! I can't give that up, okay?"
Longer answer:
• it’s going to cost you a fuckton of jingle
• you’re going to have to add testing equipment to your infirmary first;
• you’re going to need Poke or Nedd to help you with it;
Maybe I should save him the trouble. We've almost been together a fucking year...
I deflate in defeat, and I bite my lip as I look to the back of my infirmary where my gear is hanging by the gun rack. Any idiot could see he doesn't really mean what he just said... I don't like Tindy, but I'm not calling her a slut. I'm mad at her for stealing what little bit of certainty I had in my life... I don't know that I'll ever sleep soundly again knowing that Jester all but wants that kid to be his.
I sigh quietly to myself, and grab my gear — coat, pants, guns, and all — and make my way to the door. "Go tell Hadden to get some jingle together for the kid." If Jester wants Tindy safe so fucking bad, then I'm going to go save her.
Jester leaves after giving you a quick hug. You're alone now, what do you do?
Cool. I assume you're doing this all by your lonesome. Seems like a Rossi thing to do. At least, the old Rossi.
Let's see you Act Under Fire to reach her in time. Because lots of stars need to align, you know?
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 5, 4. Total: 10)
You've been up here waiting. Sitting, hunched down from the biting wind and the cold, trying to keep warm by staying tight, huddled under the carcass of an old boat. A sailboat that turned over during the Big Freeze and froze before it sank. Waiting.
This is where they brought Arbor. The ritual space where Underlake dumps its exiles.
After too long. Numb fingers. Frozen snot. Eyelashes sticking together. Finally, the metal doors open, and you see the light from inside, from underneath. Three burly men bring a frail thin, worn and sobbing young woman up, pushing her along. She's barefoot, Rossi.
"You should be thankful!" One of them calls as he shoves her ahead. "If it weren't so fucken cold, I'd have a go at you, just one last bit of fun before you become a fucksicle."
Oh, and Rossi, don't forget... you're an Angel now. Not the Faceless beast you were before. That was a lifetime ago.
When you take up the mantle of your past life, all the skeletons in your closet make an appearance. Wear the mask, or suffer the ill effects.
They'll see you as soon as you stand up, but they haven't seen you yet. They're carrying weapons, a hockey stick, a machete, a big claw hammer and a bigass revolver.
What do you do?
I reach down into myself and latch onto that fury I used to rely on in times like these... The memory that some asshole out in Benton Harbor was carving up innocent people, and the world was out to get me because I was some useless fucking girl — bound to end up a fucksicle, no less. It's there, but without the mask, it's not the white heat I'm used to... Instead it's like a roaring flame, calling me to action, but clumsy, and teasing me with the promise of pain.
I stand up, my teeth chattering from the cold wind, pointing my shotgun — which feels heavier than it used to — at the asshole with the revolver. "I'll fuck you for free," I call out over the wind, "and your asshole friends too. Drop the girl."
The one with the hammer and a broad face, dusky skin, pencil mustache, he looks over at you. Looks down at your shotty. "You're next, baby. Just gotta take out the trash." He looks at his buddy with the hockey stick. who moves towards you, followed by machete guy.
"This aint your play, lady." Hockey Stick says, giving you a great deal more respect than his boss there. He's dressed in thick furs, and you can tell how he moves that he's got a vest on.
Machete is coming around his buddy at you, coming hard, machete raised high. He's not playing around.
What do you do?
Let's see you Seize by Force then.
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 5, 6. Total: 14)
For your convenience: that should be 3-harm dealt (before armor), and she's acting at an effective 3-armor (including the various penalties/bonuses from being maskless/SBF).
BAM - First shot hits machete guy right in the neck. His forward momentum sends him sprawling towards you, even though his head snaps back and blood gushes out of his neck as he falls. The buckshot tore him up.
BAM - Second shot hits the beef guy with the fat head. The spread at this distance is awful, buckshot catching him from knees to face. He falls screaming into the snow, trying to freeze the burning flesh. Tindy falls to the ice, immediately trying to crawl away, crawl to the doors, anywhere warm, away from the violence.
Hockey stick guy cracks you on your left shoulder. It fucking hurts. He sees he's outgunned, though, so he bails, taking off at a run into the snow, losing himself in the ice before you get a good bead on him.
Tindy's in bad shape, Rossi. She's literally still bleeding from the birth, it must've been a breach or something. Not like they'd go out of their way for her since she was sentenced to death, right. Snow is already caking on her thin dress, her movements are labored, slow. She's dying already, Rossi.
What do you do?
I look up to the big metal doors from where she came, and realize her best odds at survival are to get in there, stop her bleeding, and dress her for the trek... I stalk over to Tindy and throw her over my shoulder in a fireman's carry, instantly regretting not getting out of my infirmary more often. "You're one lucky woman," I mutter, tongue in cheek, "I had to convince a guy not to come out here for you himself. Who'd have thought a fucking musician would throw his life down for you..."
I've got my gun out as I start heading for the boat. Is the door still open? Is the coast clear?
Tindy groans as you put her on your shoulders, then says with misery dripping from every word, "You... you're a musician?"
OOC: Reading the sitch. roll+sharp.
(Rolled: 2d6+1. Rolls: 2, 4. Total: 7)
"Jessie?" she mumbles quietly, surprise in her tone. "He's... he's yours."
The door is open, nobody is coming out right now. You're on the northeast end of the mines here. You see there is another set of doors, that this is a little alcove. You could bring Tindy inside, close the doors to get you both warmer. Thing is, you know they had to have heard the gunshots, and they've probably barred the door in case of attack.
If you want to get away from attack, then run, nobody will chase you. If you want inside their defenses, you;ll have to take down that set of metal double doors there.
To be clear, Tindy will freeze to death if she's out in the snow much longer. She might bleed to death if she isn't treated soon.
If she's got something to say, she's got a second as I psyche myself up to knock this door down...
"Just save her... save my baby. Please." She's drawing in her legs, rolling over into the fetal position, shivering as she moves. She's lost weight during the pregnancy, her bones look thin, you see her shoulder blades under the dress.
Then I start working at the door — with my boot and shoulder first, and failing that, my shotgun.
You fire for the middle, right where you saw a crack and got a glimpse at the wooden bar they put to hold the doors closed from the inside. Now there's a big hole in the doors, and one more kick will open it up. You see firelight from torches inside, smell smoke and oil. There are people inside, waiting, taking careful aim. Probably shitting their pants.
What do you do?
OH YEAH! To GTFO. roll+hard, (Possibly +1 from read), +1XP.
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 5, 2. Total: 10)
Tindy groans a little when you pick her up, but she's not complaining. She lays her head against your right breast and murmurs quietly, "Thank you."
The doors burst open and people fire, but they're more panic firing and taking cover. You barrel through the passageway and shove one fucker onto his ass. In seconds, you're in the tunnels, winding this way and that, losing them in the labyrinth that is the mines.
You lose them. You lose yourself, too. Tindy's still clinging on, the voices of your pursuers are far away now. You can see your breath, but there's no snow, no chill wind. Tindy isn't shivering anymore. But she looks pale.
A weird thought snakes its way into my head — something Bond mentioned back when I first brought Jester out to them when he lost his foot — about Jester finding me out in the scrapes... Jester's been looking for love out here, as long as I've ever known him. What if I was just what he needed to find out there? Just someone to teach him to be strong, and put his life on the line, and kill to protect his family and loved ones if need be? What if I'm not Jester's true love? What if I'm just a stepping stone to that goal?
We don't even want the same fucking things... He deserves to be happy. He deserves that family. He probably just thinks he loves me, because I saved his life so many times. If I deliver him Tindy on a silver platter, and the opportunity to save her kid's life, he could have that life he wants so badly...
I get to work.
Sounds like you're using Angel Kit to heal her up, right? Let's see how much stock you spend.
(Rolled: 2d6+3. Rolls: 6, 5. Total: 14)
After some time, Tindy's color comes back, and she looks up at you with much brighter eyes and some focus. "Holy shit... you totally saved me, Rossi."
By the way, Tindy will be bedridden, out of action, for at least a week.
What is "destiny", anyway?
I stuff the ring into my coat pocket — the one on Tindy for the moment — and zip the pocket shut. My voice shakes a little as I quietly answer, "thank Jester. He really holds a flame for you, you know."
I shoot her a a detached look, and sigh, "I did not risk my fucking life to have you die, OK? Jester's intent on having that girl grow up loved... Start taking better care of yourself."
Tindy nods, slowly, watching you, trying to discern what the what. "How's Haddy?" She swallows, like asking that took something out of her. Then, she admits, "He sent me really nice books, Rossi."
... It may be a defensive mechanism...
"Hadden's been through some shit lately," I grumble, a frown spreading across my face, "he played hero saving my sister from our father, and nearly got killed for it — if not for the weirdest fucking feeling I've ever had in my life, who knows what would have happened without Jester and me kicking down the door..." Just the thought of busting in there to save him brings back memories of Jester curled up on our bed, depressed... What little professional compassion I have is quickly eroding — this is a fucking sore spot, so shoot me. "The way him and my sister look at each other ... Fuck if I know what it is, but those two are burning that torch bright."
I cross my arms, and curtly add, "not that it's anyone's fucking business but theirs."
Tindy smiles when you relate the story. It's a sad smile, around the corners of her eyes, but she smiles. "Good. Silica needs someone like Haddy. He's a good man."
You hear someone coming, moving through the passages. From the shadows, looks like they're coming from the other direction.
Tindy ducks her head, even tries to slide her knees up, but grunts softly in pain, and just lies down.
You move up a little, into the next little side passage, waiting. You see him coming before he sees you. It's that kid Nosepick, the one who was there when Silica killed that dog sledder, when One-Footed died. He has an ice pick in his hand, angled down. He's about to come into your little alcove, probably saw Tindy's leg through the passages, or more likely, heard her.
What do you do?
Nosepick jumps to the side, away from you, freezes for a moment. He looks at you, eyes bugged. Drops the pick. "... Rossi?" He looks like he wants to relax, but well, he's not sure if he should.
"I'm looking for some asshole who's running around in the mines." Nose replies quick, his shoulders dropping with the shotgun, "Guess you're the asshole?" He grins, "Did you really blow your way in here? Guess Squirrel's message got through. Where's the rest of your gang? How's Sil?"
He moves like he's going to touch your shoulder, just a friendly thing. Before he does, he sees... something. Hesitates, ends up moving his hand up to brush his hair, playing it off.
I lean back a bit, my shotgun still at the ready, and scan the area quickly... Paranoia... Then I ask, "what is it?"
Nosepick doesn't look right at you when you answer, "Nothing." He clears his throat, "Where's uhh, the gang?" He looks around, knows your answer in your posture. "C'mon, I can take you to Squirrel through the back ways. Nobody knows this place like me and..." He flinches a little. "Like me."
I sigh loudly, and nod. "Fine. Give me a minute... Tindy here can't walk — and she sure as shit can't be seen by anyone, you hear? I've gotta get her out of here alive." I make my way over to Tindy, crouch down to pick her up, and whisper, "sorry if this stings... I'll try and keep the movement to a minimum."
Nosepick starts a little, "Dafuck? You've..." His voice drops to a whisper, "You got Tindy? Holyshit. Can I help or anything?"
Tindy waves Nosepick off. Its obvious she knows him. She looks up at you, "It's okay. Better than being out there. All worth it to see her again."
Please go here.
I go see Tamedog by myself. Marmot's more and more independent, these days. She doesn't need her hand held for most jobs, and there's just so much to do. She's less assistant and more friend.
I look over the pile of goods. "It's good someone's getting through. That hole can't be a pleasant place to live after this long. What are they asking for?"
Invert answers "They are good enough on food, but out of gas and power. Living like cavemen. Smelly as all hell, too." She waves a hand in front of her nose, crinkling it a little."
Tamedog shakes his head a bit, "This could be a trap. We send in folks with power, they jump ours, then turn the tunnel into a place to attack us from. We shouldn't give them hardly anything on the first go, send folks who we wouldn't miss." He looks over at you, "What do you say, Lemma?"
I'm going to fade out on this scene.
That's also the end of the game. Take a moment to reflect on the awesome story of Lemma the Savvyhead. I'll post up an epilogues thread tomorrow. I'd love to see how you see Lemma's epilogue happening.