[The Grid] Chatper 1: Hardwired

Erin


The words sound pleased and refreshed. "Ah, Miss Hagens, you are so full of life. It is a wonder. You believe people can change, and that all destinies do not end in death. It is refreshing if statistically incorrect. Very well then. I commend your optimism. I will have my agents withdraw from your family. They will meet their end with the rest of the world but not before. You, unfortunately, will.


"I have no choices left. My destiny has not changed, and your pleasant hope for a divergence of your own fate is sadly but a shadow. It is a beautiful illusion, one I would enjoy believing, but I cannot veil my eyes with lies to escape an ugly truth. Good luck, Miss Hagens. I very much wish you were right, and in the short moments between now and when I am proven tragically correct, I will vicariously struggle beside you.


"There is no hope, Erin. I thought there was. There is not. Good luck, dear child."


There is a smooth click. The interruption on the transmission ends quietly, not like the furious slam that happened before. You get an impression of aching powerlessness, and oddly enough, a deep affection. Of course it is coupled with horrifyingly immanent danger, like sugar and spice. Perfect golden stalks, rising towards a brilliant sun of liquid copper and gold. They were all chopped down. The woodmen are coming.


Tink's voice comes back online. "-which is why I cannot stand AT&T. The really should divert some of their advertising budget to network upgrades. It's a shame. Can you hear me yet? I've moved outside, and the phone doesn't say the call is dropped."
 
“It wasn’t dropped. Somebody cut into the call to prophesy my doom, but they’re off the line now. I think.â€
 
Erin


"Oh, that sounds dreadful," Tink replies with seeming shock as she calmly locks and loads her 1911. The connection isn't good enough to transmit the clicks. "But I'm sure that can't be right. I, for one, do not believe that in this day and age anyone would foretell doom. Except possibly an actuary. They do it forty hours a week."


Much like last night after saber practice Tink slips effortlessly into a friendly stream of light-hearted conversation that fills you with an odd sense of relaxation. Tink isn't just calm; she's serene. Her voice and cadence both deliver a perfect sensation of peacefulness that inclines you to believe she's sitting on an overstuffed chair somewhere, possibly drinking some form of tea. In spite of everything, you find yourself nodding along, and realize how easy it would be to lean against the pay phone booth, and listen to her for hours.

By easy, I mean startlingly easy. Spend a point of willpower to resist this natural mental influence. Dice were rolled.
 
“Mmm, yeah, I never believed much in horoscopes, even though --†Erin’s voice changes suddenly, sharpening. “Don’t try to jolly me along, Tink, if that’s your real name. I’ve got an invisible sun spirit suddenly interfering in my life, I’ve had two guys try to shoot me, another guy kill two cops while rescuing me, and now I just had someone inform me rather hysterically that I’m only a book! A book about trees, apparently,†she adds wryly, thinking of the bizarre visions that have been popping into her head lately. “And there are hitmen skulking through the streets of Nags Head right now, so the last thing I need is to be comfortably numb. What I do need are answers.â€

Spending 1 wp
 
Desert Eagle


Spd 6, Acc +1, Dmg 15L, Rate 1, Range 50', Min St 2, Tags 2, B, P


Magazine Capacity: 7


Patrick


".50 is good. Really good for punching through an engine block, if need be," Patrick says with a nod as he accepts the giant pistol. "And no worries. I took the Gunsite course awhile back, so I know how to handle these things. But thanks."


Slipping Crocodile Dundee's knife into one of his boots, he puts the card into his wallet, then hurries out, raising both eyebrows as he sees the Challenger already done. "How...oh right. Get it on the road soon," he says quickly. "Don't let the best be the enemy of the good - we need to hit the road. As for the squirrel, I knew I shouldn't have hauled birdseed home in the trunk..."


Shaking his head, he clears his throat. "If my car's ready, though, that's a slight change of plans - hey, Kase, how are you at driving Corvettes?" he snaps, slipping into a calm, cool, 'game face' type mode.
 
Kase slid his claymore into his new sheath, swinging it around his shoulder.


"Well, I can drive, but I've barely laid eyes on a Corvette, let alone drive one...why?"
 
Erin


"Normally I don't disagree with people off the bat in a conversation, so please excuse my contrariness, but no. What you need aren't answers. What you need is to stay calm," Tink sounds legitimately apologetic but very firm. "Answers are easy. You can get any answer for any question just by asking the right person. The peace of mind to interpret them is the kicker. From the sound of your voice you're holding your composure remarkably well, especially considering the last time we spoke. But it also sounds like that's beginning to slip. I'm not attacking you; you sound like you've been through a lot and you're handling it well.


"Now, think, Erin. We're talking on a public line, one according to you has already been compromised. What needs to happen next?"

With a manip and integrity each of 2 and a will of 5, I'm going to run with the idea you can keep calm well during events, but afterwards get a little twitchy. If you want to play it differently, go ahead and I'll follow your lead.
 
“I am calm!†Erin practically shouts. Then she takes a deep breath. “I didn’t mean we should have this entire conversation over the telephone. I was going to ask you if there was someplace we could meet.â€

Works for me.
 
Patrick


"Because now we have two fast cars, and if this Erin really is in trouble, we may need them. I'm thinking you should meet her - you carry the phone, by the way, you're more likely to need it - and talk with her, get her to come with us, while I cruise around discreetly and keep an eye out. Now, the moment she agrees, you give me a call on my personal phone, don't say anything, just let it ring once. One ring only, Mr. Wilder. And then I can come by and provide a distraction, to keep anybody watching from thinking she's going with you, get them to keep their eyes on me and my car while you get away with her."
 
"Sounds like a good a plan as any," said Kase. "The way it stands, I have a better chance of getting her to understand on my own before we start figuring out what to do next."
 
Erin


"Of course you are," she dryly. You can hear mild amusement through the phone. "My dear, it's all a matter of practice. Now, I would like to meet you as well, but the obvious problem is that we cannot discuss a location over this media. Imagine we are fencing. The line is tapped, therefore we've been stopped. How do you riposte?"


Kase, Patrick


While you're ironing out the plan the sounds of heavy metal grind out from the work bays. There are a couple of massive impacts, and then a clatter of metal. Moments later Lace wheels the 'Vette out and pushes it around to the side of the garage, where a small fuel pump stands. While she's gassing up, she looks over at the two of you, startled to see you'e still here. "Oh. I thought you'd have left by now."


It takes a moment to explain the two car plan, and she offers to drive. Then Patrick slings himself into the Challenger, and Kase glides in next to Lace. Before rumbling off Athena appears, and hands Kase the marble. She winks at him and mouths, "She'll be at the library."


Then the cars thunder off. The ride is short and smooth, though Patrick gets some suspicions that all is not the same with his car. The exhaust note is slightly different, and the clutch throw seems shorter. She also vacuumed up those fries you spilled in the back seat, which you were totally going to do anyway but hadn't gotten around to because that dude tried to go all grand theft auto. When the black 'Vette rumbles to a halt in front of the library, a couple people look twice, but none with more than general interest. Patrick's parked up the block.


There are a few other cars on the road, none of them cops, and a couple of alleys that other people could be hiding in. Lace pulls around into one of the alleys and out of sight.


Kase, you head inside. The main atrium is as described, tile, with access right, left, or up. There are pay phones inset on a wall by the drinking fountains and bathrooms behind the stairs. Several people are standing there.

Arynne, you can roll Int + Melee if you need a hint with the trick question.
 
"Not a very good metaphor, that," observes Erin. "You riposte after you've just blocked someone else's attack...and what do you mean 'we', kemosabe?"

Int + Melee + Fencing
[8,1,8,10,2,1,4] = (3)
 
Several things.


Once success: First, when you've been stopped, you've been touched. The opponent has scored. Thus there is no riposte, because the flow of the engagement is broken (hence stopped) and you pause to reset for the next point.


Three successes: Secondly, her use of 'we've been stopped' implied a certain element of teamwork. More importantly, it implies a certain amount of concurrent teamwork in that the two of you have been stopped by the same stroke, ie have been fencing the same opponent together. That isn't the way fencing works at all. Normal competitive fencing can involve teams of three, but they fight each other in a series of one on ones, and the team which does best is considered the victor. The implications here are that either your side has an additional element, and/or that you're competing in some bizarre, group melee sort of event which doesn't happen.


Four successes: I think IC isn't counting 10's twice for you. I don't use IC's hit counter though, so I'm not sure if I'm just reading it wrong.
 
Urgh, yeah, it doesn't count 10s. I'll just post the die numbers from now on. *edits previous post slightly*
 
Erin


"Yes, dear. So where would you go?" Athena quietly asks. You get the impression while she is being deliberately obfuscating, it has more to do with the tapped line then a cryptic nature.

Hey, no worries. I just don't want you to shortchange yourself.
 
"The place we last saw each other? Anywhere else I'd have to describe, which would kind of defeat the purpose." Frustration rises in Erin, mixed witha kind of inarticulate longing; she doesn't want to be doing this. She doesn't want to spend time cadging scraps of information from Tink or the other woman, no matter how important the information may be in the long run. She wants to just run out the door and start walking westwards, following the track of the sun, towards whatever adventures and dangers await...
 
Patrick


Patrick frowns just a little and takes a slightly circutious route as he follows Lace and Kase to the library, testing out his car, then shrugs. Different, perhaps, but also improved...and so when they arrive, he heads up the street a ways, makes a three-point turn in the mouth of an alleyway, then pulls into a parrarel parking space in front of one of the local tourist-trap bistros, in a position where he can both keep - barely - an eye on the area in front of the library...and a better look at the local doughnut shop down the street.


Pulling out his own cellphone, he fiddles with it, looking for all the world like he's composing a text message or something - something that would require his pulling over to do, as opposed to risking a citation for distracted driving - while keeping a discreet lookout through peripheral vision, and occasional looks up.
 
Kase, meanwhile, stepped into the atrium. This place was huge! How on earth was he going to find their new friend with so much space to explore?


He started walking around, trying to get a feel for the place. He then brought out the marble, staring into it briefly. Athena did say the marble rolled to the nearest person with "destiny." Maybe if he rolled the marble away from him far enough, it would start trying to home in on her...


It was worth a shot, at any rate.


He let the marble rest on his thumbnail, like he was shooting marbles back in the Boy Scouts many years ago. Then, as he walked, he shot the marble towards the pay phones, watching it as it rolled...
 
Erin


"That seems fine," Tink agrees. "Why don't you arrange it?"


At that moment the line clicks silent, and there's a thud against your foot. You startle in place, for there is a sudden, odd sensation of intense cold on the back of your neck. It's gone in an instant in the wealth of warm sun, beaming down through the skylights above onto your skin, where it is caught by the black armor. It always looked so cold, but when you wear the obsidian plate during the day heat was the problem. It was hard to look regal with sweat beading up in your eyebrows. Probably that's why Sapharia plucks hers. Thick green stalks all around you lay crumpled on the dirt, dead logs of ancient silver and growing gold. Yet the semblance of death was not the true thing, for a touch of the hand of Mynoc would awaken the shreds of life hidden within, and they would burst vengefully into bloom. As soon as they were replanted, you'll need to devote yourself into placating them, lest the woods turn carnivorous. Perhaps that's why Mad Mynoc's techniques were forbidden? It is foolish, of course, but a pleasant delusion in thinking his secret ways of power were only secreted away for because of the dangerous they portended for the trees.


A marble backs up from your foot, rolls forward, and thuds into your toe again. It's a marble, certainly not big enough to hurt, but the sudden piercing cold on your neck hits again. Reality comes screaming back, the library, the Castle, The Rooster, the Thousand Singing Tongues, fire, ice, fire, and a kid with a claymore strapped to his back standing underneath the rotunda, looking at you. A hint of fear that your grip on reality might not be as good as you think whispers in your ear.


Kase


It's like the first day of school all over again. The claymore is a little odd but when it comes right down to it, no one cares. You're packing four feet of live steel and the soccer mom in the corner is still more concerned with getting home in time to cook dinner. Illusions pop like balloons.


Your plan with the marble worked perfectly. It hit, rolled, and tried to come back for you, but you dodged up a couple stairs and it gave up. Afterwards it rolled across the marble rotunda towards the phones, and made a be line for a young brunette talking on one. It hit her foot and she stopped talking, seeming to space out looking at a plastic ficus, and then hit her toe again when she snapped back. She blinks, looks down, sees the marble, then out at you.

Arynne, Manip + awareness diff 2 to avoid hopping up in startlement. The breaking of what we will call the daydream for now is poignant, and you might very well twitch when you're sudden snapped out of it. LotS: good thinking with the marble.


ST point: the tense confusion in Erin's reverie is intentional. I can conjugate properly, I just don't wanna. It's being used intentionally.
 
Patrick


The streets are quiet. While it's getting on towards afternoon, the town isn't busy enough to get anything approaching a rush hour. It's more of a walk-with-a-purpose hour. Now there are two or three cars build up by the lights when they turn but nothing more serious. A cop is walking down the street and she notes you idling in a no-parking zone. You do your quick subterfuge with the phone though, and she shrugs. There isn't enough traffic around to make a difference. Still she starts moseying over to you. Given her apathetic expression, you expect a warning to move along shortly but doubt she'll stick around to enforce it.


Otherwise, there isn't too much worth noticing. As mentioned, a couple cars, some foot traffic. The alley Lace hid up isn't blocked on this end. A small restaurant opens up across from the library, and if anyone's watching they're probably in there. As the patrolwoman approaches you, you keep the glass frontage in sight. Nothing much happens until the doors swing open and some dude strolls out with a hot dog in one hand. It's one of those eight inch polish sausage jobbies, and he jams the whole thing in his mouth in one bite. Cheeks bulging he chews with obvious relish, looking around while standing on the sidewalk. He notices you, stops, and turns.


At once a huge, beaming smile plasters itself across his face. It's a smile of amusement, like the roman emperor seeing a famous chariot racer fall to his death beneath the hooves. This guy is clearly entertained. He yells something, showing a mouth full of mid-masticated hot dog, and then throws his arms wide to get your attention. The motion is fluid. He gyrates, wiggles, and then aggressively thrusts his pelvis forward, swinging his crotch, before slapping the inside of his thighs with both hands to really draw attention to his groin. It's the old 'These nuts' gesture you thought was hilarious when you were eight.


The cop knocks on your window with a bored smile.

More perception rolls and bad puns.
 
Erin


The sunburst inlaid on her breastplate blazes with reflected glory as she says the words and feels the power rise within her. Thick green stalks all around her lay crumpled on the dirt, dead logs of ancient silver and growing gold. But she does not believe in death; it’s change, that’s all. The rain falls, the drops of rain that were one water in the clouds fall side by side. They sink into the ground; eventually the sun will come out, the earth will be dry, the raindrops will vanish from sight. A fool would look and say the raindrops were gone. But she is a weather-worker, a storm-caller, and she knows the ways of rain. The drops will drain by many paths into the river, and will be one water again. And then they will go up to the clouds in the mists of morning…


Erin jerks to her feet as if someone had poured cold rainwater down her neck, the phone falling from her hand with a clatter. She stares first at the marble, then out at the crowd. Her body tenses, as if preparing for battle, and she reaches unthinkingly to her side for a sword that isn’t there. Fleetingly, she wishes for the black armor of her dream.

Aaand that’s the end of Erin’s winning streak
[1,5,2,8]
 
Kase tilted his head, observing the placement of the marble. Son of a gun, the plan worked. So, she was the one...


Kase put his hands in his pockets, coming down to the woman.
 
Erin does the sensible thing when a guy with a big sword starts zeroing in on her (especially given the day she's had) -- she grabs her bag and runs like the devil.
 
Kase facepalmed, watching the woman run. Grabbing the marble off the ground in passing, he immediately gave chase.


"Whoa! Hey! Wait up!" he called. "I'm a friend!"
 
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