[Desolation] Chapter 1: Digging In

Hooper


The dead emotionless eyes stare across the table at the kid. The answer is in them. "I kill them. Then things they say don't matter. I don't care" the water beads on her mask. "Talk about the job"


Hooper continues her bizzare method of drinking, the water she keeps splashing on her 'face' drips down enough to fall into the flesh underneath.
 
The ladder, much like happiness, sorrow, and desire, is an illusion. Far easier to dodge up the exposed pipes on the side, leaping from one piece of arcane, mysterious Golden Age equipment from another. To an observer she's nothing more than a colorful blur scaling the side of the building.
 
Hooper


The kid nods and smiles. "A few friends and I found this machine. I don't even know what to call it. I think a long time ago, you could drive it or something. Anyway, it's big. And we need time to get it out. We're trying to recruit a few people to protect us as we do, like you. What do you think?" His voice is hopeful.


What do you do?
 
Red Bean


She leaves the garage to find Hooper. Normally it isn't too hard to find the psychopath, just follow the sound of tears or screams. Normally you can ask two questions and can find her quickly after that. Who did this? Where did she go?


The courtyard looks like a war zone as people step around dead bodies and crying loved ones.
 
Hooper


"How do I get a share of that?" It can be rather difficult to deal with Hooper at the best of times, just ask Graves. Stonewalling, getting fixated on a single aspect, and often being rather tough to read were just a fraction of the issues one came up against when talking to her.


She empties the rest of the bottle, putting the others on the table. She didn't need as much as she thought.
 
As Fauci walks out the garage with Sister Red, shocked and slightly dazed, he curses under his breath at the lost work and blueprints that he might very well never see again. The switchblades he'd been working on for Bean's kids were all locked up in there, as well as a couple electrical components for something entirely different.


"Red, where exactly we going?" he asked. "This place's never been safe, but that was... fuck Balls, the crazy fuck. Deserves what's coming to him."
 
Hooper


The burnt kid's eyes go wide. It's clear he thought it was obvious. He seems shaken.


"Well, I uh ... We're going to sell it. Get some scratch. You get a piece."


Sweat glistens on his brow.


"That is ... if you want. Of course."


What do you do?


Red Bean & Fauci


A couple of minutes of asking and the search is done. A little girl points to the main building after you ask her.


"Agnes'," is all she says.


What do you do?


Ryoma


You reach the lip of the roof, standing on a high window.


What do you do?
 
Hooper


"Where will you sell it? How much? What currency? I'd rather be paid in food." She asks each question one after another, her muscles twitching under her skin. This kid had lots of plans but didn't seem to have a lot of thought behind them. Hooper was on the verge of leaving.
 
Red Bean


I forgot the MOST important part of you opening your brain. I get to ask a question. :D


So, here it is: If you could take one thing you've done in your life back, what would it be?
 
Ryoma


You hop over the the ledge of the roof.


It's quiet and still.


Just you, the roof, a dozen or so large rain catchers, and the greenish-blue sky.


You don't see anyone.


What would you like to do?
 
Check to see if he left any trail of his passage. Perhaps he scuffed the dust on the roof; stuff gets everywhere out in the desert.
 
“Something called 'Long term planning' is how I'm gonna make a living. You see, in this place we live...not too many people know their letters. There's a lot of shit out there worth readin'. A lot of shit out there will kill you if you don't read it right though. Anyways, my Long Term Plan is this here prison. I do jobs for Graves, maybe something that needs a little more focus than what Hooper can give or a major obstacle he feels she can't handle alone. Then there's always guard duty on the walls, that mostly takes care of my basic needs of staying here. Way I see it if we can hold out here and carve out something a little bit less fucked up than the outside while avoiding the mistakes of home, maybe things'll start movin' in the right direction. Another thing? I get fuckin' sick of all these people with their guns that aren't sighted. They seem to have some idea that a gun, some powder and lead is all they really need. Then lo and fuckin' behold they can't hit the broadside of the walls. People need to take better care of their shit or it'll bite them in the ass one day."


"Speaking of ass biting, I try to keep mine covered. Thankfully the key to the door was actually found, I keep it on a chain around my neck. I trust Graves but I'm not sure if he snuck around and made a second of it. Moot point anyways, I bartered for a bunch of other locks. Makes getting in a pain in the ass but I don't mind it so much. Shit, every time we go scavenging I'm hoping to find some of these little toys I learned about back home. They call them “claymores”. I remember some funny bit about how it had directions printed on it so you wouldn't set it up and blow yourself to bits. See! The power of letters at work! But with just one of those buggers set up at the door, fuck 'em. I wouldn't even need a lock then. Just a sign telling people to fuck off or else. Granted they probably wouldn't get what it meant. Maybe the locks should stay if we get some."


"Although I don't have any fireworks like that, I got myself a little collection of things I picked up I use for barter down at the market. Most of it is firearm related, bullets of a different caliber or a few tools the yahoos could use to adjust their weapons. Some stuff I picked up from ruins, things from the Golden Age. Like one thing, I don't know what it does but it has a button labeled “On” and depressing it certainly turns it on. A screen no bigger than my palm lights up for a moment and flashes something like a battery. I didn't try turning it on after that, but the casing is all right if a little scuffed up. The white paint is faded in places and it has these little indentations I've seen on other Golden Age tech, even on some stuff around here. Nothing I've come across matches it. Be a crying shame if it had a map to a pile of fuckin' Golden Age war goodies. Sometimes I miss home. That shit was always on hand.”


Edit: I said the key was on a...ring. I have no idea why. Changed it to chain.
 
Ryoma


All right, ask 1:

  • where’s my best escape route / way in / way past?

[*]which enemy is most vulnerable to me?


[*]which enemy is the biggest threat?


[*]what should I be on the lookout for?


[*]what’s my enemy’s true position?


[*]who’s in control here?


Koch


Awesome. That makes sense.


Do you have any business sighting and maintaining weapons?


Graves might even ask you to do that too if you do, just an idea.


So, there you are, in your guard room.


Your workshop.


Your weapons.


What are you doing?


Hooper


The burnt kid shakes his head, frustration growing on his face.


"Fuck, I don't know," he says throwing up his hands and sitting back. "We'll figure that out later. This shit's big. Biggest I've seen. Look, here's what I know."


He leans forward again and points into the table with a finger.


"One: SOMEONE is gonna find a use for this thing which means someone's gonna pay for it. And 'B': Red Bean is full of shit. I tried her shit, but it's a lot of work for nothing. I'm never gonna get outta this hell-hole if I don't make some damned scratch."


He sighs and puts a hand to his face, then pulls it away rubbing his eyes.


"Listen, if I find a way to pay you in food up front, are you in? And for that matter, how much fucking food you want?"


What do you do?
 
Ryoma


Fucker's hiding behind one of the big tanks collecting water.


It's the third on the left.


What do you do?
 
Hooper


She watches the outburst from the kid with the same detached 'expression' as always. The only change was when he asked how much food she wanted.


"Years worth or more. Depends." Hooper stands up "I'll do it"
 
I'm...not a fan of handling other people's guns. It's a personal thing, something you need to care for and look after. If you can't take care of it you don't deserve it. That being said, I still need to eat and keep myself in the finer things in life (like bullets). So from time to time if I'm desperate of Graves pushes for it I have given out a few pointers on fixing up their weapons of choice and tinkered with a few of them. Otherwise I try and send them to Fauci so he can mess with it.


Anyways we were just reassembling the last pieces of Heckler after taking him apart for a good cleaning. Can't do it as often as I'd like, good oil is a bit hard to come by. Even still, I know he appreciates it all the same. Be best to go take a look on the outside and make sure the fort isn't burning down. Pretty certain I heard gunshots. Too quiet to be right here at the prison though, so no big worries.


Still, it pays to be prepared.


Suiting up into the armor contraption, doesn't hold a candle to some of the Golden Age stuff I remember seeing pictures of, I feel a bit calmer at the weight. Sure it's heavy and shit, but I've lost count on the number of times it saved my love. While strapping in the gorget over my scarf covered throat I do a little departing ritual. Whenever I take off I try to make a mental list of what I got on hand, just the important stuff. Last thing I need is some kind of varmint sneaking in and making off with shiny things into the walls. Stopping at the door we do a little hop, listening to all the tinkling and jingling the various metal bits and ends make against each other. You get used to the sound they make and nothing in that particular band sounds out of place. Thusly reassured we go through the arduous process of getting out the door and locking it back up.


Goddamn do I wish I had some claymores. Cut my commute time by a good fuckin' ten minutes. So now, really just want to poke around and make sure things haven't gone to hell in a hand basket. Maybe grab some food if nothing needs my attention.
 
Ryoma


Just so I have full grasp, are you trying to get the drop on him when you do this or are you just looking for higher ground?


If it's the former, you'll need to act under fire, and the fire is will he hear/notice you climbing up and over.


Hooper


The kid looks at you confused.


"Wait," he says. "You're going to do it without the upfront food, or with?"


Koch


You open the door to leave.


A guy stands in the doorway, his hand raised to knock.


You recognize him right away.


Foster.


A sharp-shooter on Graves' gang.


Carries a HK MSG90 he found on a scouting run into the city.


He's an average guy.


Quiet.


Not as good a shot as Roark, also on Graves' gang.


You've walked the wall with him.


He looks at you shocked at your timing.


"I see you're decent." He looks your armor up and down pulling a toothpick out of his mouth. "You available or you got something to do?"


Koch, do you have any previous history with this guy other than wall-walking?


Everyone


Hey guys, what do we call the bombed out city nearby?
 
I'm a bit surprised to see him standing there as he is to catch me a good time. In doing so we quietly evaluate the man before making our response. He's never struck me as a bad man, and he's got a good piece to call his own. Despite that, I read the sitch.


6+6+Sharp of 2 for 14 :confused:


As for the city, I always thought of it as Hope honestly. Hoping to find something good and hoping nobody finds you when you're there.
 
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