[The Grid] Chatper 1: Hardwired

Malcom


The tall, dark, and sinister man looks vaguely baffled. It's not that you've swayed him; it's that this is so clearly outside the realm of what he expected to happen he doesn't know what to do. Bad actors can sometimes improvise, but this chap doesn't seem to be able to do either. For several seconds as you blather, he just looks at you. He might be stoic, but somewhere under there you can almost smell the confusion.


"Why aren't you identifying the problem?" the one inside asks.


"He isn't resisting," the other explains. "Violence is authorized if they resist."


"And?"


"He isn't resisting," the standing one reiterates.


There is a very short silence, then both of them cup their right ears as if listening hard.

JDs of

four and nine. They weren't expecting this though, so you got init via surprise. They'll both go on the same action as you.
The big fellow's DV exceeded your roll, but again, the surprise thing, so you effectively hit. In response he and the other one are talking an unknown action. (You can probably guess, though.) Back to you.
 
Malcolm paused and waited as the two figures discussed and reacted in a manner reminiscent of computerized dolls. They seemed to have hardwired brains, almost, whoever or whatever they were, and they reacted as no human would. This appeared to be his chance though. Gotta figure out the rules of the game, what would keep them off-kilter until he could tweak them enough or get a prime opening to deal with them.


So he stayed quiet, and observed them as one might study the intricacies of well-carved puppets. They were quite wooden, after all.

Reading Motivation:


Perception 3 + Socialize 2 + Temperance 3 (Calm and careful study) - Wound 1


[2,9,8,6,6,1,10]


4 sux. Difficulty is half the Agent's Manipulation + Socialize, rounded up.


Dodge MDV: 2, Parry MDV: 1.


Appearance: 3


WP: 4/5
 
Erin the Mad


Dream-memory and waking life are flowing together now, so that Erin can hardly tell the one from the other. What she is about to do would have been unthinkable for the Erin of yesterday. She would have said it was impossible, and made some sarcastic remark such as, “Hey, this is reality.â€


But now she knows that it was impossible only because it was unthinkable.


Counting the paces down, she flexes her legs, judging her timing…judging the distance…two steps, one…then she jumps from her perch, lands on the branch several feet beneath her, lets her momentum bend the limb downward, pressing, feeling the recoil in the branch as it resists her weight…and flings itself outward.


And she powers herself outward with it, using its force, and the coiled tension of her legs to shove her body outward and upward, into the air. An eerie silence blocks out almost all sound, save that of the air rushing past her ears.


And then she is falling, dropping with incredible speed towards the two suits, and only then does she consider just how stupid a move this really is.


Oh gods. She’s going to die.


No.


Not this time.


Now the air is whistling past her, and the roaring matches the roaring of the blood pumping through her as she concentrates on her two enemies, and the irresistible need that flings her like a missile towards them, sword in hand.


"INVICTUS!"
 
Erin


It's a beautiful strike. You drop without a sound save the whistling of air over your sword. It is glory, and an odd sense of flight comes with the plummet. The silent strength of trees flow by the wooden speed of your blade, and it comes whipping around with lightning speed. The crack of its impact against skin is like a gunshot.


In a timeless instant that will be imprinted into your soul for a thousand incarnations to come, you stare directly into Agent Jayne's eyes. There's some luminescent, a grey wash of power from deep inside the skull, that flashes outwards. It reveals old, terrible things behind darkly tinted shades, and in them is familiarity, deja vu, recognition of dimly glimpsed images reflected through a mirror darkly. You have no idea who this being is, but somehow know the entity who's image it was remade in. Bisecting your view of the Agent's face is your blade, save before the throat where it is caught by a leathery hand. You were only a few inches from making contact.


But if he has the ability to stop your swing with a gesture, you don't have the strength to do the same for your body. Every bit of weight you had was in that blow, and now your body wraps around the hilt of the sword like wet cloth. The impact nearly stuns you, then you fall, and he shoves. Your back hits the tree like a detonation, and a hail of shattered bark tumbles free in all directions. Later, the tree will die. Now you are pinned against it by unnatural strength and your own weapon.


"Invictus? Unconquered? No. Not since we killed him," Jayne says with harsh contempt. The Agent's other hand rises behind her, flexed like a claw. It begins to go for your head before coming to a halt with another smack.


"And what would the point of that be?" Agent Sam asks, holding Jayne's strike back.


"Sterilization."


"We don't want this one sterile. We want the Castle."


They eyeball each other for several seconds of tense hostility. It seems they are not immune to each other's overabundance of malice. Finally Sam wins what is clearly a contest of either rank or wills, and Jayne's hand drops.


"Now, Miss Hagens, would you like to tell us of the Castle??" asks Agent Sam, as Agent Jayne holds you still but unharmed.

So, another flash of light, and another surprise attack parried, followed by a direct transition into a clinch.


Strike parried by means which left the exact roll to hit unnecessary. Make of that what you will.


Counter attack clinch is still 18d + 5 sux for 12 +5 for 17 total. The tree smash was just cosmetic, and the attempted crush was forestalled by Agent Sam.


You may roll Essence + Occult for more on the odd feeling of familiarity. This is an extended roll, difficulty five. There will be many more chances at this one, so don't worry either way.


You may also roll Perception + Martial Arts for other purposes entirely. Plus any other applicable rolls for your action.


Oh, also you don't really know their names yet, but there are actually enough differences between them to make distinguishing them worthwhile.
 
Patrick


You hear the other door click shut an instant before realizing there's someone sitting in the passenger seat. She's quietly adjusting her pants when you snap your head around to look, and then she glances up to meet your expression.


"Magic, so don't worry about it. Please pay attention, because there isn't much time and that one, the one who hopefully is much brighter then he's letting on," she indicated Malcom through the windshield, "doesn't have the advantage you do of at least half a clue of what is going on. The long and the short of it is we are approaching the worst case scenario. My distraction effectively synergized with your distraction, but in spite of both our efforts, the bad guys have the prize. I don't want you to have it and you probably don't want me to either, but the part we can agree on is none of us want them to. So in the interests of fair play and to avoid adolescent quarreling about the band's choice of music while the Titanic sinks, I am going to help you get exactly what you want, in exchange for a favor. Do we have a deal?"
 
There is no teacher like experience. Unfortunately, her lessons can be quite painful.


Groggily, Erin thinks, Note to self: in the future, don't use blood-curdling battle-cries when making sneak attacks. At any point. Counterproductive...


It takes a moment for the details of her captors, and their words, to sink in...

Essence + Occult: [8,8]
Perception + Martial Arts: [8,8,2,5]
 
[Patrick]


Watching the ongoing discussion, Patrick finds himself quietly wishing he'd bought one of those "Birder's Ear" thingies he saw in the Christmas catelogue last year - point it at the bird (or person), and it amplifies the song (or words). As it is, though, he can tell that The Man-Who-Lived is having a fairly animated conversation.


Well, half a conversation, anyway. The MiBs seem to be typical government drones...


Just as he goes to put the Challenger back in first gear readiness, considering which of the cherry trees to knock the Marauder into as the Agents cup their ears, he's surprised by somebody slipping into the passenger's seat. And whirls around, silently swearing about not having the gun. When the woman explains herself. And he narrows his eyes, even as he can't help but note her figure. And her words.


"I'll buy magic seeing as I've seen a human-looking Gorilla Grodd and a man who can smash car doors with his face in the last ten minutes," he says. "not to mention getting filled in somewhat on how the world works which is different than I know.


"So if you know what to do to get this prize, well, I'll hear you out. Whether or not I accept depends exactly what the favor is, but I'll bite as long as it isn't killing or destroying something."


Hmm. Perception+Socialize='Sense Motive'? → [3, 8, 10, 5, 9] = (3)

Gah, forgot to stunt on the roll...if applicable:

[7] = (1)
 
Malcom


These guys are goons. Given how surprised they were by your rebuttal, they probably aren't that bright. Yet given how quickly they reacted, they're at least adroit. Probably the type to receive very specific instructions and show great skill executing them, but little by way of original creativity. Either a cunning dog, or a deeply indoctrinated follower.


Following that train of logic it isn't hard to surmise that the ear-cupping thing is some form of communication. Given that they've done it twice, the latter time being the first time you showed any kind of resistance they weren't expecting, and therefore probably not instructed on how to respond to, you'd furthermore hazard a guess that they're either scared of their boss or obsequious. Again, the trained dog, possibly by being beaten, or fanatic follower.


That being said, they have a lot of slight or unconscious facial movements. That's the sort of thing that's the hardest for CG and automata to replicate, at least in movies. The CIA might have some crazy stuff. They also move very fluidily, and the big one outside the car has BO. So probably still human, at any rate.

Game terms, think high valor, low compassion, and low conviction. Intimacy of fear/obedience to their superior. Low Int, high Wits, and obviously high physical stats. Moderate to low social stats. Motivations unknown, but probably not too abstract. They don't have the head space for 'Liberate the masses from cognitive tyranny.' Probably something along the lines of 'Get laid and make money.'


If you do that again and get more successes, you can learn more.


After several seconds, their hands drop, and the smelly one turns back to you. "In nine seconds your upper body wear will be removed, that I can inspect your back. All methods of are authorized."
 
Sorry. I had an idea, lost it, got it back, and searched around for a while when it wouldn't work. I think I fixed it. Please give me a Perception + Occult roll. A regular Perception + Awareness too, to look for bad guys.


"The plan," explains Lace. "Is simple. I haven't got one."


With that she guns the engine and goes slamming through the trees. As mentioned, the brush here isn't that dense, and she can maneuver between them adroitly. You're still not entirely sure that's possible, all things considered, but that isn't even worth energy contemplating any more.


What is important is the definitive way the car is tearing along the woods. The entire thing is disgorging vile and strange fluids and smokes as it goes, but no loss in performance is associated with them. They blacken the tree trunks and defile pine needles, splattering the dirt with strange gunk. The engine's echo is kicked back at you from a dozen directions in the forest, and sets your teeth to grinding.
 
Hank


Miracles are funny things. To begin with, they suck a lot more then one might expect. Normally one considers miracles and deep unpleasantness inimical ends, and the general idea of the former is that it ends the latter. This simple misconception may be why few people notice the number of miracles that occur around them. Or possibly you just have bad luck.


There are more of those billboards in North Carolina then you would expect. They've been popping up all over the place though you can't recall when exactly you first started seeing them. There was one just past 158 that could have almost been talking to you. "Asking for answers from an invisible god? Worried when you don't get any? Perhaps you're looking in the wrong place. Reality: It is."


You stared at that one for a good five minutes. The author might have thought he was being clever with the snide twist on the name of God, but that isn't what stopped you. Nor was it the simple applicability of the message. No, the kicker was that in spite of yourself and Chris's silence, you just can't stop believing that the billboard is wrong.


Not evil or vile, just wrong. 2 +2 =12 wrong. It doesn't match.


Also, you unfortunately learn, your oil cap doesn't match the well. You've entered town and are driving around looking for a miracle when the engine freezes without the courtesy of the oil light coming on first. Pistons slam to a halt with the perfectly unpleasant noise of expensive calamity. You don't even think they make the parts to fix this thing any more. Damn thing won't even coast. Now you're sitting in the middle of a side street, and glaring balefully at you from across the way is another billboard.


"Cheer up. At least you're breathing real air."
 
Hank


The ungodly sound that erupts from under the hood would be a welcome distraction from the nagging in the back of his head from that billboard, if it didn't bring a whole load of heartache with it. Hank bites down hard on the butt of his cigar and speaks through gritted teeth as he puts her in park,


"Mysterious Ways are a thorn in my side."


He then sees the most recent billboard through the bug speckled windshield and a laugh slips out,


"Real air? Sometimes I ain't so sure."


A slam of the door and a pop of the hood later Hank is running low on options and salty quips. He gathers what he can carry in his rucksack from the flaking red painted bed, assures Bertha that he is coming back for her, and gets to walking. He takes a few steps, before he turns back and opens the door,


"C'mon Chris, I saw a place to get a cup of java a few blocks back."
 
Ok, these guys seemed to be normal... make that quasi-normal. If the big bosses were that scary or powerful to the goons, an attempt to to appeal to the head honcho's might scare them, or at least delay their actions. The sixty-four dollar question, would they be convinced to allow access or expect such a tactic? Better try.


Malcolm raised a warning hand to the suited BO machine. "You said you didn't want mysteries? Well, you're doing a bad job of explaining. Tell that to your bosses, or actually, I will. I want to speak to your superiors."

Doing the exact same thing as before:


Reading Motivation:


Perception 3 + Socialize 2 + Temperance 3 (Calm and careful study) - Wound 1


[7,4,4,9,1,6,6]


2 sux. Not likely to get anything more.


Dodge MDV: 2, Parry MDV: 1.


Appearance: 3


WP: 3/5
 
You can reroll Essence + Occult later. In the mean time, it's one of those things that hangs at the edges of your memory, like a hauntingly familiar song you don't know where you heard.


For now Jayne is holding you still. Her stance is peculiar, also a little familiar, and has you planted firmly against the tree. She doesn't have a real hold on you, though. She's just squishing you against the tree. The frightening thing is there's a visible taint like corrosion or rot spreading out across your blade from where she's holding it. Jayne looks amazingly unhappy with you, and it goes a bit beyond the general world-contempt she seems to have for everybody.


Sam is still waiting for an answer to her question about the Castle.
 
Patrick


"Honey," she says. "What I'm offering is anything you want. Anything at all. People, power, wealth, respect, anything. If you just had someone explain to you that there's something beyond the veil, then you should be able to figure out that I live on the far side. Giving you the world is like playing with toy soldiers in the sand. What I want is a favor in kind, but if it makes you feel better, I don't want you to kill or destroy anyone. I don't need that."

good stunt, doesn't beat MDV though. The only thing you get is that you don't think she's lying about rather having you get 'the prize' then 'them.'
 
Out of the night that covers me,


Black as the Pit from pole to pole...


For some reason, the sight of what the Agent's touch is doing to her old practice sword makes her angrier than getting smashed into a tree.


"Not gonna tell you anything unles' you let go of m'sword," she says hoarsely.
 
Patrick


"'Anything you want.' Too bad for you I happen to be a fan of Babylon 5," Patrick quips. "But fine, then, Ms. Morden, as long as whatever favor you want is truly for the Greater Good in the end - and that's by my definition of Greater Good - you've got a deal. Shall we go and fetch Ms. E., and what do we do about Man-Who-Lived there? in the meantime?"
 
Kase


You spot the trio through the trees seconds before Lace does. She cranks the wheel over and charges them, somehow managing to move between the foliage without slowing down. By then you've already worked out that Erin's getting held and Jayne and Sam are effectively blocking her escape.


In her best Grand Moff Tarkin voice, Lase encourages you, "You may fire when ready."
 
Hank


You are saved by rednecks. Good natured guys, but definitely and literally rednecks. It's still early season and they already need a little sunscreen back there.


A bronco comes to a halt while you are extricating Chris from Bertha, and a whole bunch of them pile out, filled with questions about what's wrong and how they can fix it. They're a boisterous, noisy bunch, and though they ask a lot of questions, they don't wait for answers much. Two poke their heads under the hood, and come to the astounding observation that one of your engine broke.


No. Really?


At this point while you're still trying to get names, one of those under the hood loudly proclaims he can fix this, at least enough for you to limp along to a garage. He is immediately called a liar and an idiot. He defends his assertion with great enthusiasm. It'll take a bit though, and he wants to know if you mind waiting. Finally, you manage to get a real word in edgewise, and the group looks over to you.


Edit: You're fairly sure Chris is winking at you. But that cannot be, because statues don't move. It must be a trick of the light.
 
Malcom


The large gentleman ignores your words, and simply grabs you by the shoulders. Without waiting he attempts to spin you around and yanks the shirt from your back.

I gave them the -2 for MDV for your attempt matching up with an intimacy, fear/slavish devotion(?) to boss, but you still didn't make it. So no gain.


You can go into combat time if you want to resist. He isn't hurting you beyond minor bruising though, and you've been banged up far worse on set. If it helps your next post, he's going to hold you still while staring at your back for a bit, easily enough time to take another action in debate time.
 
Patrick


"Oh, no. I'm not going to do anything. Do you really think I would both give you a favor and assist in freeing the young target were I not intending to leave here with her? What kind of sense you what make? You will rescue her yourself, or with what assistance you can acquire, sir. Know that all you need do is speak my name and ask for my aid, and it will be provided. Good luck."


With that she opens the side door and moves to leave.
 
You want agent Jayne to stop corrupting your sword, correct? And are offering information in exchange? Probably Charisma + Presence, though Manip + Presence if you aren't actually going to tell them anything anyway. I guess you could use Bureaucracy since it's a trade, sword for information. Plus the usual bonuses/specialties if you've got 'em.
 
If Malcolm let the goon do so with the shirt, pause then use a backward elbow jab as an attack while the bozo is looking, is that unexpected?
 
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