[The Grid] Chatper 1: Hardwired

"I don't think they're the only things out here," said Kase. "Anybody know if these guys have mounted police officers out and about? I know they have some in LA, but here seems kinda unlikely..."
 
Hank almost walked off on his own, presumably absorbed in thoughts about the events of the day and what they could possibly mean. He makes it about three good steps after everyone else stops before he realizes he has missed something. He turns to chastise everyone for being slowpokes, but before he can start with Hebrews 10:36, he sees the spider webs everyone is talking about. He quietly takes the Lord's name in vain before joining into the conversation at hand,


"I saw something like this once in East Texas after a particularly humid summer, but its particularity of subject rouses my suspicion. Any other day I would say screw the other cheek, you all are wanted men, but the abnormal seems to be the tried and true these days."


His homily coming to an end, Hank notices no one really stopped to listen to him, so he hustles a bit to catch up.
 
Erin heads over to the building. She passes by the Mercury and finds it empty and silent, though still warm. There are no arachnids nearby. The car looks like someone drove it off the lot this morning. It gleams in the streetlights. Moving up further, she sees more of the little guys busily enmeshing the compound lot in webbing. They're also spinning silk over the grass leading towards the front door. It looks like a rising mist is sweeping up towards the building. None of them get spastic when Erin walks by, and they scuttle out of her way like normal. After she's gone they return to their work. There must be millions of them.


The doors to the building are submerged in webbing. More spiders are increasing that with every second. Here you also start to see flies, carefully cocooned. Erin will either need to cut the webbing away or burn it.


Hank, having finally spaced back in and noticed everything, can make a somewhat better analysis of the arachnids. There are a half dozen different varieties, but all common household spiders native to the region. They'll bite if really pissed off, but no harmful effects beyond pain and slight allergic reactions. Unless you're scared of spiders. Then they are the devil, and their numbers are legion. Nuking the city from orbit may be called for.


By this point all of you have noticed that no one else has. People drive past and the occasional walker strolls by, but not one of them seems to make any kind of recognition of the swarmed building.
 
"No spiders anywhere else," Patrick observes quietly. "Only here. And nobody else is seeing them, either...


I have a bad feeling about this. And we need to get inside. If there's people in there..."
 
Erin Hagens


"If there are people in there, they're probably in the same state as those flies," Erin says grimly. "But you're right, we should check. Anyone got a knife? Or..." she smiles suggestively, "a lighter?"
 
"Neither," Malcolm said, shaking his head "though..." On the off-chance there was something useful in the Marauder, he walked over to it, peering inside as best he could. "Wonder why this is untouched..."
 
There isn't anything overtly obvious about the Maurader, except possibly its cleanliness. Even in the gloom of the evening the wee bit of light off the streetlights is enough to send reflections of your face off the polished exterior. There are no scratches or mars on the finish anywhere, nor signs of wear on the tires. The car is cooling , but the hood is still warm to the touch. The windows are heavily tinted, and the plates are from out of state. They match the tax stickers on the windshield. It looks exactly like the one the two suited guys you fought earlier today were in.


Inside it looks pretty similar. Hard to see through the dark tints, but the interior looks nice. There's a stereo of some nature, and leather seats. (Assume there's nothing especially interesting about it beyond what I told you.)
 
Erin Hagens


Erin eyes the car with disfavor. "I suppose we could break a window, use that to cut." She glances around at the others. "Or just keep going and tell Tink when we see her. Because I'm noticing a marked lack of enthusiasm for this plan."
 
Hank grabs the ax from his back,


"I ain't one to leave people who might be in need, step aside missy."


Using the toe of the ax, Hank tears and pulls and cuts the web away from the door.


"Oh yeah, don't worry about the spiders, they aren't poisonous. May itch to high heaven, but you won't croak."
 
Hank has no problems ripping through the cobwebs. There's a lot of them, but they aren't otherwise unusual. With clumps of them hanging off the door like curtains, Erin pulls it open.


She is hit by a biblical plague of insects. It's like a sandstorm of bugs. Millions of the little bastards come boiling through the door, flooding over her, and blotting out the night sky. Into her face, into her hair, clothes, eyes, and mouth, bugs go everywhere. The rest of you see this this tsunami of insect life sweep over her, and some of it crashes into Hank as he stands by the door. It washes out and disperses, though, and the spiders that are covering the lawn in webbing have a field day.


Inside, the building is covered in bugs. There are tens of millions of insects, and the millions of spiders there that eat them. The walls are so thickly webbed that the hallways look like a cave and overhead fluorescent lighting is dim.

Arynne, Valor please. Diff 1, or 3 if you're arachnophobic. It's not so much terrifying as startling. Anyone going inside will have to make the same roll.


Anyone can knock out a Perception + Survival for Entmology.
 
Erin's new self-confidence shatters like glass. Screaming and gagging, she turns and flees towards the road. Halfway there she trips, falls and lands hard on her hands and knees. After a moment she begins vomiting.


Pride goeth before a fall, as Hank might say.

One success, but I suspect she's the bug-fearing type. :twisted:
 
It is a bit of a sight to see, the bear of a man jumping back as the veritable plague of insects washes out. He swats the few away from his face, and talks aloud as he regains his composure,


"Shit! To this day, I have a hard time believing God created insects. Y'know, they aren't mentioned anywhere in Genesis..."


Hank stops his joking just long enough to see how distressed Erin is. He swats at the remaining bugs in her hair before offering her a handkerchief and a hand up,


"You alright Darlin'?"
 
Again, Malcom discerns much as Hank did previously that these insects aren't venomous. There are a few you certainly wouldn't want to eat, but most are basically harmless. Even the few centipedes and millipedes which could inject toxicity are common, garden variety bugs.


The freakish biomass density is a whole 'nother thing. You've got several acres worth of untouched rainforest in vermin pouring out of this police station. While Erin is losing her shit, the unconfined spew of critters boil out the front door and sweeps out into the city. You imagine there will be an unusually high number of bugs here, but otherwise everything you've seen could come from this area or at least close by. The urban ecosystem will absorb them and probably re-equalize within a few months.


The doorway to the police station remains open and ominously inviting.

Go ahead and annotate a negative intimacy to spiders, insects, or whatever you want of that nature. I'll start putting it into my calculations.
 
Erin is crying.


She's not a pretty crier at the best of times, and this is not the best of times. She takes Hank's handkerchief and then flaps it about irresolutely, as if uncertain whether to wipe her eyes or mouth first. She settles for blowing her nose -- loudly -- before accepting Hank's offer of a hand up.


"Th-thank you." Her voice is a phlegmy rasp hardly louder than a whisper.

Uh-oh. I foresee Giant Spiders appearing somewhere in the future...
 
"Not a problem."


Hank eyes the handkerchief after Erin's use,


"You can keep the hanky."


Hank then watches off into the distance as the swirling cloud of insects dissipates,


"Well, there go the Locusts,"


he then glances at the police station door,


"and there is Darkness... I hope nobody has any kids."


Though wavered, Hank's resolve stands, but he does decide to prepare a bit before entering the police building. He produces another bandanna (what is he, a magician?) and ties it tightly around his mouth, then ensures that his shirt is buttoned as tight around his neck and wrists as possible. Finally, he tucks his shirt into his jeans, and his jeans into his boots.


"The bugs are mostly harmless, but that doesn't mean I wanna share too much real estate with 'em. I'm gonna poke around in there, make sure that nobody needs any help. I would welcome any assistance but I won't hold it against you if'n you relax out here, just as long as you guys don't run off leaving me with the bugs."


With the mention of being left, Hank realizes how nice it has been to have real people around again,


"Don't know if I could handle all this weird shit without someone who isn't a figurine of a saint to talk to about it."
 
Kase walked inside tentatively. If there was one thing he hated in the world, it was bugs. And the spider webs around were not going to help him...


Needless to say, Kase's reaction certainly showed his own anachrophobia as he stepped in. While he didn't outright vomit like Erin, his reaction was far more comical. He instead began to make buzzing noises a la Chris Rock in the The Fifth Element, shaking his arms as he stumbled back and forth, trying to find a safe place to stand. Upon finding none, he immediately went back the other way and tore out of the building, still flapping his arms and doing a hop-skip dance to shake off any of the bugs he imagined were now climbing his body.


"Okay...I'm hoping someone brought a humongous can of Raid or summat, because I am NOT going back in there!" he said, panting and trying to stop actively shivering...and self-consciously blaming the weather for the shivers. He was a desert rat, he needed heat.


One success, but like Erin, Kase is afraid of bugs.
 
So as things stand, Hank's going in while Malcom, Erin, and Kase remain outside. Patrick hasn't rolled yet, so he could do either one.


To me the best part of this is that when the party splits up, it's the guy going into the scary, bug infested police station who's going alone. MM: I'm not sure if you've burned a Valor channel yet, but if so you certainly get one back.


Inside


Hank proceeds into the station. Almost instantly the sensation of ghostly hands touch him, but on inspection it's just moths. The profusion of crickets set up a chorus that washes out minor noises. Long experience in the northwestern woods has inured him to such bugs individually. A few crawl over his boots, but after tucking in his pant legs, there isn't much way for them to invade his personal space. Reassuringly, the bugs act normal and try to get away from the disturbance. Nothing looks interested in cuddling.


Past the foyer is the reception desk. A small plaque mentions the desk is staffed at all hours, and you peer over the counter. A police uniform sits on the chair, unworn but not empty. Life boils out of it. Vermin and creature flow from the sleeves and collar like a dripping tide. There is nothing with any semblance of humanity within. Already the spiders are falling on the flood. It's a tiny banquet, and you lean back and away. There is something profoundly unnerving about that that gibbers at the outside of your forced calm.


As you go further into the building, you see more mounded uniforms. Each one is spewing vermin. There are several mounds of civilian clothes and a couple suits, all in similar states of new occupancy. The density of the insect life reduces, though. Soon, other than the omnipresent moths that bump dumbly into you, the halls are clear but for the silent lines of ants in the corners.


Then there is a very distinct clang. You are absolutely 100% sure that it was a cell door slamming open. God Himself might have told you, for so unerringly certain are you of something you could not have otherwise determined.


Outside


Yeah, going into Evil Bug Hole isn't something most of you are prepared to do. After Hank disappears inside, you all start poking around. Honestly, it's the smart thing to do. You'd feel really silly getting arrested because you didn't notice the cops around back.


Well, there are cop cars around back. Lots of them. The parking lot has a half dozen vehicles inside. Most are standard cruisers, but two are the new Camaro Interceptors that have just hit the streets. Every vehicle is backed in for a quick exit in case of need. Most are unoccupied, and none have people inside.


You come up to one vehicle, shrouded in spiderwebbing, and look full on into horror. Grasshoppers are dripping out a cracked window. Flies are spewing from the air intakes. Inside the cabin, through the web-frosted windows, there is a rolling black mass of insect life, writhing away. There is a war on inside between predators and prey, and they cover the inside of the windshield and interior mirrors. Things with wings, stingers, and legs pour out one door left ever so slightly ajar. It looks like an aquarium, only with bugs instead of water.


And again, none of them are particularly threatening. Unless anyone starts screwing with the bugs, they leave you all alone and wander off with the intent of not becoming a meal for the spiders. There aren't even the normal biting insects like mosquitoes. Of course, phobias being irrational, it's still enough for a few of you to bolt away.


You find yourselves by the outskirts of Bug-house, and quickly notice a couple things. The police station sits on a roughly rectangular lot, and there are four small cairns at each corner. The only unusual thing about them is that they're there at all. All four piles of rock are about knee high and pyramidal. The larger rocks for a base, and smaller ones have been fit together like puzzle pieces. Grass is folded under the bottom stones, meaning they were laid down fairly recently. Anyone who pokes a cairn can feel a slight tingle, and taste something vaguely coppery, sort of like licking a battery.




Perception + Occult for inquisitive types. There also is a 7-11 across the street, so if you want to go buy their entire stock of Raid, this would be the time.
 
Erin Hagens


Once her raw panic has ebbed a little, a hot rush of shame washes in. Some hero I am, Erin thinks miserably. She wanders around the outside of the police station, dejected. Maybe she can discover something important, something that will help her save face -- but her one attempt to peek into an abandoned police car causes her to jump back, shaking and gulping back bile.


It is then she notices the heaps of stones...cairns, aren't they called?

Per + Occult →

7,8,6,10
 
Patrick


Patrick turns away as Erin opens the door, nearly gagging at the tsunami of bugs. So much so, that it takes a moment before he realises the woman's distress, and curses to himself, shaking his head. "That...was thoroughly disgusting. Are you alright?" he asks Erin, looking a mixture of revolted and concerned, and not having noticed the cairns yet.
 
"My ears are buzzing and I feel like I'm going to fall over at any given time, but other than that...feeling absolutely peachy, thanks for asking," Kase said moodily, a little put out that he'd been somewhat ignored for Erin. Not that she didn't need it, considering her reaction previously, but she wasn't the only one who was deathly afraid of insects.
 
"Just bugs," Malcolm muttered, though he too had been shocked by their quantity, immediately he proceeded to inspect the cairns and shook his head. "I think I'd understand the bugs better than these. Our lumberjack needs some company too, I'd think."


Walking back inside, he glanced at Hank. "So... whatcha think?"

Perception+Occult


http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3034345/


He has no idea whatsoever.
 
If you thought Hank jumped earlier, you should have seen the flailing when Malcolm walked up behind him,


"Jesus Christ! What made you think that was a good idea!"


he takes a couple deep breathes beneath his bandanda.


"Sorry about that. You just scared me is all."


He then points to one of the mounds of bugs coming out of people clothes,


"To quote a book that isn't the Bible, 'There is something rotten in the state of Denmark.' If this had been any other day, I'd be looking for the candid camera, but this is seriously wiggy shit, and that is saying something! I mean, I was dragged behind a speeding ur-car by a magical gravitational field earlier today."


Hank flicks a millipede off of Malcolms chest,


"I just heard some ruckus from the lock-up. I say we check that out real quick-like, then get the hell out of Gamora, just in case the condition is catchy."
 
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