[The Grid] Chatper 1: Hardwired

Arynne, another Dex + Athletics roll. Depending on BA, Malcom can provide limited cooperation on this. MM, same for you if you cross over.
 
[OOC: Is the window big enough? Anyway, Malcolm would definitely cooperate if there's any way he could do so. I'm just having trouble with scene visualization, so the hows are more murky, but just putting it out.
 
The Challenger is pulled far enough forward that Malcom's window is effectively overlooking the trunk of the NotAVette. Erin and Hank are wrapped around the supercharger stack, more or less hugging it. Now Erin's broken off to scramble sideways through the window. Malcom could certainly help drag her in, or grab hold and make sure she doesn't slip in the wind. Hank could also do such things without jeopardizing his own position. Once Erin makes it into the vehicle, there is only one place for her to go: Directly onto the stick shift, forcing you into a different gear, and causing your immanent demises.


However, were one not to accept that, she could climb directly over Malcom's seat and into the trunk. The Challenger has a smugglers hatch, or a way from the cabin into the trunk. That would actually put her well out of way and let her see what's going on, albeit not well. Hank would then follow. At that point Malcom would be Air Traffic Controlling, and insuring in their intra-cabin climbing no one hits the stick shift and causing the aforementioned sub-optimal conclusion.
 
Ok, Malcolm will do his best to drag Erin in and get her over to the trunk without impacting the shift stick. Same goes for Hank. Do I need to roll?
 
Erin crosses over without too much difficulty. Once Malcom lays his seat back, she scrambles over him and behind the cabin into the trunk. There she is concealed from outside but can move around fairly easily.


Patrick keeps the ride smooth with a thousand unconscious corrections and adjustments. It requires more money, skill, and luck then he had for an Indy win, but one doesn't even get an Indy run unless you've got at least one of those things in spades. God knows for Patrick it wasn't money. The Challenger reacts much calmer than a smaller, newer car would. It's got enough mass behind it to ignore little things, and the suspension keeps it floating under his hands. The shifter wiggles with vibrations from the engine. It shimmies, twitches-


And Hank is pulled back into memories once more. There are dead faces, separated from him by an unbreakable veil, but they push at the membrane with phantom hands. Every line of brow and jutting chin is familiar, and if Hank could just tear aside the obscuring sheet, he knows he'd be able to recognize them.


Malcom and Kase both notice the lumberjack go still. He takes a vague, distant expression that has no business being there, given his situation. He's pawing at empty air vaguely, reaching towards the Challenger, but no one has any idea exactly what is going on.

Many dice were rolled. Intimacies are playing a pretty significant role in the behind-the-scenes part of things that are going on, just so you know.


BA, limited cooperation adds 1d to each attempt to move between vehicles. You also provide a reroll as necessary since you're settled into the car.
 
"He seems like he's on something highly illicit!" Malcolm shouted back. "Now, you wouldn't happen to know what seems to be wrong with the world, and why I've gotten memories of fighting some fantastical monsters?"
 
"I can only speak for myself, but I tried to protect you from those suits saying they were going to kill you and your friend. And now I'm effectively stuck in whatever is going on." Malcolm retorted. "I probably know less than you, and can you tell me how to get Lumberjack to snap out of it and jump in here?"
 
Kase nodded, opening the window and gesturing at Pat to bring the car over. "See you on the other side, then."
 
Patrick


Pat, as it happens, is still roaring along in formation with the one-time Corvette, keeping a sharp eye out for road hazards. Things like "gators" (shed tire carcasses), broken bottles, oncoming traffic, Giant Enemy Crabs. That sort of thing. Should still be in position for Kase to jump ship!
 
Kase manages the transition without incident. As Malcom manhandles him into the second car, he goes into the trunk with Erin, and then they pull around to pick up the hallucinating woodsman. The trunk is uncomfortably full.


Lace turns and looks back at Patrick and Malcom afterwards. It's a short glance, and the strange vehicle is already mutating again, with the passenger area fading away. Soon it is a single seater, very low to the ground, and with immense engine humps in the front and back. Even with the wind tearing away sounds, you can all hear the tremendous roar coming off the straight pipes. Yet Lace suddenly looks very small and very scared in the abnormally huge machine. You get the feeling that she held something back, something about just how bad things could get. Then the monster roars off, and she is gone.


Patrick almost immediately gets off the road. The last turn-off before the long stretch of South 12 is Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge. You go screaming around a corner and then creep off the road where some overhanging bushes hide the car. They're filled with nesting birds in the spring. Not long after, you hear helicopters pass by overhead, followed by the sounds of screaming police cars. Those keep going by for a while. You must have had a ton of people after you. Then things go quiet. You do not have much time.

These locations are all real, btw. Google Maps can show you where all this crap is. I seem to recall Pea Island being more green then the map shows, though, so we're erring on the side of my faulty memory.
 
Patrick


Seeing the expression on Lace's face as the other vehicle changes to something even less like a Corvette, Patrick finds himself stricken for a moment with a feeling that they're doing the wrong thing. That they should stick together, instead of abandoing her to whatever fate awaits...


He shakes his head after an instant, and raises his hand before she turns away. A gesture meant to be both encouraging - you can do this - and a promise - we will find you. And then...she's gone.


Sighing, he spots the turnoff for Pea island, and jabs the brakes, sending the Challenger into a four-wheel drift around the corner onto the entrance road, the tires grabbing and the vehicle lunging forwards, then sliding again into the parking area where, hidden, people sometimes go to be alone (for varying definitions of 'alone'); thankfully, it's empty. He quickly switches off the engine, and hopes none of the pursuers have infrared as they go roaring past...


Shaking his head at Kase's comment, he chuckles. "They're crunchy and taste good with mustard? Look, we've got a few minutes here, not too long but we need to get the logistics rearranged here, and figure out our next move."
 
Patrick


"Name's Patrick O'Connell. Semi-retired race driver, charter boat owner, and 'person with a destiny', it seems."


Yes, he adds air-quotes over that last bit.


"Also probably one of Creation's Most Wanted now." He pauses. "...I mean America's Most Wanted." Wondering where that came from.
 
Kase groaned. "I was referring to the hockey team...ah, whatever, was more of a Coyotes fan, anyway."


"Anyway, I'm Kase Wilder, college student and the guy you dropped an encyclopedia volume on earlier. Like Pat here, I'm also a 'guy with a destiny,' and according to this..." he pulled the white marble from within his jacket. "You are, too."
 
Hank gropes for the familiar faces, trying to cry out to them with names he knows but can not remember. They get stuck in his throat and stick like barbs. In frustration he grasps out as hard as he can at the veil, and it pulls away into the now.


At first he is utterly lost, and it doesn't get better for almost a minute. Then he hears the conversations happening around him. He says a wordless prayer that he made it from the back of that car. He rolls over to confront his comrades of happenstance.


"The name's Hank Bauer, I'm a preacher-man. And I'm on a mission from God."
 
Erin Hagens


"Nice to meet you, Preacher. Some people have been telling me lately that God is dead. Personally, I think some people are idiots." Erin stands up, stretching.


"Now, if this were a book," she smiles, as if at some private joke, "or a movie, we'd all keep what we know to ourselves, sharing information in dribs and drabs, waiting for suitably dramatic moments to reveal crucial bits and holding back the important parts until it was almost too late.


"But this is reality, so I'm not going to waste any more of our precious time." She yanks off her knapsack -- which has been bouncing on her shoulders unheeded throughout the library chase, the one-sided clash with the agents and the crazed stunt atop the car -- and pulls out a sheaf of files. "Does anyone here know a Chase Reilly or a Jordan Smythe?"
 
Patrick


"Mission from God, you say? You'll get your hat and dark glasses issued later, just don't go driving my car off an off-ramp, please," Patrick quips to Hank with a nod, before turning his attention to Erin. Listening intently...and then double-taking when she asks if anybody recognises the names she gives.


"Er - you could say that. Chase Reilly broke into my garage and tried to steal my car last night. Haven't heard of Smythe, but there were two people who were breaking in..."
 
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