[The Grid] Chatper 1: Hardwired

Hank


"The police were in the way. They would likely have attempted to interfere when we came to kill the targets. As such, the latent propensity for resistance within the police made them viable targets. We launch preemptive assaults on viable targets if it suits our needs to do so. Here, it did." There's no emotion in the man's voice. There is no cruelty or viciousness, just a sterile assessment of the situation. It may not be evil, but it is absolutely inhuman.


"The targets themselves were born. Regardless of the precepts of the Engine, the founding laws of Creation remain in force. One of those, the addendum initially referred to as the Salinan Working, periodically overrides genetics and natural selection by intentionally breeding certain traits. The bloodline of the living books of Shaped in Malachite is one of those traits. The subject," the suit indicates the first corpse. "bore traces of that bloodline. It has now been sterilized."


"Subjects attract each other with a gravitation based on magical potential. The subject attracted another intentional recreation of the SW phenotype, namely Target 2: Jordan." The other suit explains. "Target 2: Jordan must be sterilized as well."


"Asking what gives us the right is a second question and violates the rules of our covenant. Agreement is now terminated."


The suit reaches out, grabs the metal bars of the cell door, and slides it open with an automatic click. They walk right out, and across the small hallway to the cell to Jordan's cell. In perfect unison they open their sport jackets and remove guns, identical to the ones they just discarded, and weaponry that you know wasn't there when they exposed their torsos. "Target will be sterilized."

I'm going to roll real dice for the NPCs. Anyway, JBs of 1 and 4 respectively on 4d. Each will take a miscellaneous action to draw weapons. Malcom and Hank can roll JB and then do whatever.


If you intend to engage them, be aware that they _will_ kill Jordan, the kid who's still alive, on their first attack action, so you may want to tailor your own actions to respond to that.
 
Another person out in the middle between hell and Tartarus? Not exactly what he was hoping for, but it was a good a place to start as any. So, Kase began to walk towards him, trying to make sure he stayed within range of Tartarus. He wasn't keen on getting turned inside out.
 
Kase, Erin


Kase strolls/wafts/floats/flies/transgientalistic quartals along the conduit. The whatever is still trying to screw with him, but he's got it under control. When he comes to the glowing ball of light he pokes his head in and looks around.


By the stone temple of Erin's recollections the cracks continue their weft through the old forest. From the depths of them comes a distant figure, and then the swarms rise up about him like a tide. He emerges, brushing them off with the disconcern of one of the ancient heroes of the dawn. More pour from the crevices of his flesh.


There's a significant sense of incorrection, as both of your realize that the Kase analog wasn't actually here in this memory. Much like when you realize you're dreaming and the dream gets unstable, this memory gets unstable as well. But for the moment you two have great control over it, as the immersion breaks down. Both of you appear to each other in the perspectives of those times, when things were a little more overt.


Kase perceives Erin appears as a towering man of unbelievable fervor and limitless self confidence. The visible sigil of his impending doom hangs overhead like the sword of Damocles. He will die and soon. This does not seem to bother him.


Erin perceives Kase as a terrifying image of white light and flame. The old lord is immensely capable, straining the ground as the Erin's memories struggle to sustain the essence-powered potency of arcane lore. He is both occluded and very wise.


Concurrently, you two can also each each other as you recall from within the grid. Erin looks a little confused, surrounded by an atavistic representation of power while still the legal filing clerk who was in good shape a year ago. At the center of Kase's aura of wisdom is a somewhat lost art school student with the gangling body of one just finished growing.

Good. I'm always worried this isn't making sense to anyone but me.


Anyway, you're in there. The dream-memory is starting to crumble, so each time you post roll Willpower + Integrity to keep it together. You can actively fail this if you want, which will pop the dream.


Kase's you're taking a die of bashing damage per action but soaking it completely.
 
Erin


Fragments of memories tear themselves loose and spin around her, pelting her like hailstones and piling up around her feet like snowflakes. Her image flickers back and forth between a short-haired, plumpish woman, and a long-haired man, tall and graceful as a tree in its brief time of flowering.


...he is standing before the priests in the old volcano's crater, as they tell him he must seek out the daiklave...


...he gazes down at the mauve and golden landscape from the great silence of an apricot sky, hearing nothing but the faint rush of wind on the glider's surface, feeling the summer wind buoy him up; and understands, for the first time, the fear that underlies freedom, and the joy on the fear's far side...


...he is wrestling a love-fall against limbs cool and slender and ringed with silver, punctuated with grunts and exclamations of surprise and delight at one another's strength; finally they fall muscle-sore and exhausted on the turf, as he silently thanks Sol and Luna for the gift of such companionship...


...he stands down in the dusty azure warmth of the plain and gazes up in awe and marvel at the height where the ancient towers of Kortirion brood in their somber majesty, blunted but defiant of the years and the storms. Slowly he begins walking towards them, knowing who he will meet there and daring the meeting anyway...


...he watches, with love and pride and fear commingled, as a young woman battles in the arena where he once fought. She is armed with a dummy weapon set with feathers, against five warriors carrying obsidian-bladed clubs. Facing them, she grins that crazy grin he knows so well, and charges. She is neither sister or daughter, but something more, and today, she will win, because she knows her teacher is watching...


...he stands in the temple as Sol Invictus approaches. His own sun is at its noon...


...but every sun must set. Beside him, someone is weeping.


Silly child. Doesn't she know the battle for Creation is still going on?


Whoever you may be, who will receive this gift -- make sure it wasn't for nothing. Always remember that the darkest hour is just before the dawn. And if the world gets a second chance, like we did, live as though every day counts. I don't know who you are, but I love you. We all do. That's why we're doing this.

Integrity + Willpower →

1,6,9,2,5,7,8
 
In the instant that things go South, Hank knows there is most likely nothing he can do, but he just can't stand the idea of one more person dying while he has the illusion of a chance to prevent it. So he makes the conscious decision to act.

3d10 → [9,7,10] 4 sux If that doesn't mesh as a JB stunt for you guys that's cool, I just wanted to post it.
 
Kase could scarcely believe his eyes. It was the kind of feeling of being in the same room as that guy Guy from that one show he couldn't remember. Something about a golden hammer or something. But he could still see it: the confidence, the strength, and his own doom hanging over his head doesn't even give him pause. Not that he was any more resplendent, as he was barely visible in a blaze of golden light and white fire that he could still see through.


I wish I could be cool like that. To be unflappable like an ice cube...


And then, he began to see. The years fly by as if someone hit a fast-forward button on his eyes, but he can see and sense it all.


He can see a summer night, fireflies wafting by in the warm breeze, as he dabs musical notes on a piece of rice paper. He can hear the notes clearly in his mind, even though he wasn't particularly musically inclined. He looks up at the night sky, as a shooting star flies past. He is lost in the grandeur of the infinite cosmos.


He can feel the autumn breeze, watching as leaves fall from the trees, swept up in the beauty of the world in the celebration of the bountiful harvest that he knew would come. He would know. He planned it. A leaf dances by, and all at once, a grand idea begins to form in his mind.


He can hear the crunch of snow under his feet, even though he'd only seen snow once in his life, when he was very young. Children dash by, as life still goes on in the fearsome cold that pervades his realm. A wave of nostalgia washes over him, remembering the days of innocence, now no more distant than a memory.


He can smell the cherry blossoms, as spring heralds its coming in a beautiful waving symphony of moving colors and shapes over rolling hills and grasses. He's suddenly pounced on from behind, and he laughs, grabbing at the female form that's ambushed him and spinning around in his joy. He's lost in a multicolored swirl of beautiful chaos, but all he can see is her.


The wonder of it all...it's enough to make Kase shed tears of envy. It was life...a life he'd wanted to have so long...


It takes strength to walk this path. To walk the path of light, you must dance a razor's edge between life and death. But where we have failed, you will succeed. Take your inner strength with both hands, turn it into a hammer to break the chains of fate. And remember, where the path of light leads is up to you.

8d10=5 successess
 
Outside


Patrick pulls guard with the phone to his ear. One by one the street lights are going out.

The dream state remains firm and under control. It wavers a little, and details around the edges fade away. Nothing happens beyond that.


If you guys post actions, I'll respond to them. Otherwise the dream remains your plaything.


Inside, I'm also waiting for actions.
 
Patrick


Patrick is about to bid Athena farewell for the moment, when he notes the extinguishing streetlights. And frowns, observing them curiously.
 
Patrick


"Patrick, there is a very distinct -anomoly- moving towards you from the south-east." She hesitates over the word. "Can you determine if it is hostile or not? If it is, I advise you to engage it immediately while remaining withing the Shroud of Concealment generated by the stones. Muzzle retort will be ignored if it is within the Shroud."
 
With a dive and a roll Hank makes it back to his pack, grabbing it, he tears his ax from it, and then his large frame barrels towards the suits. He barks at Malcolm,


"Get the door!"


Through gritted teeth Hank says a silent prayer: God help him save that boy.


_______________

Misc. action to ready weapon, and moving to get as close as possible before attacking, hoping an ax-wielding zealot will distract the suits from shooting the punk.
 
Patrick


"...understood. It seems to be extinguishing the streetlights. I'll check it out. Try to find Lace, please."


Patrick hangs up the phone, and stares to the south-east with a frown, moving carefully in that direction within the field.


And so, the plot thickens...
 
Tick 0: Hank and Suit 1 ready weapons.


Tick 1:


Tick 2:


Tick 3: Suit 2 readies his weapon/Malcom takes an action


Tick 4:


Tick 5: Suit 1 shoots Jordan/Hank's second action


Tick 6:


Tick 7:


Tick 8: Suit 2 will go again.


Tick 9:


Suit 1 on Tick 5 is going to be a single attack, without penalties. Jordan's behind partial cover, so we'll give him a +1 DV, for a total of 3.


BA: please post Malcom's tick 3 action.


MM: You'll be going concurrently with the suit. Unless Malcom interferes, you may take interfering actions and it'll be a roll off of applicable dice pools.


Inside


Moving with mechanical precision, the suit pays no attention to any interruptions. The direct linearity of the individual is impressive. There is no shift of expression, nor quiver of indecision.


Patrick


The falling twilight makes it difficult for your eyes to adjust to the changing light levels. The steady progression of darkening streetlights is almost to you before you make out a figure. It's a woman wearing baggy pants and a oversized hoodie pulled low over her face. The sweater is dark with some white image spray painted on the front. It looks like a pattern of stenciled lines and doesn't mean anything definite to you.


"I'm watching her now. Take care, Patrick," Athena tells you over the phone, and then hangs up so she isn't a distraction.


The woman approaches, and every time she comes to the edge of a pool of light, it goes dark. She never steps out of the shadows.


"Hey there, Textbook," she greets you with a nickname. She's outside the field of disinterest, talking to you without a problem. By now there's no one else around. "That's a nice heater you've got there. It's cute how you think it will make any difference. You're my meal ticket, baby. Your hide is going to get me into new digs and a new line of work. You're going to open doors, baby. You should feel special. Section 1 hardly opens for anyone."
 
Patrick


Tucking his phone away in the pocket, Patrick makes a point not to aim at the approaching woman, although he keeps his weapon out and ready, just pointed downwards - a 'I'm ready to use this if I have to but I'm giving you the benifit of the doubt' sort of thing. Of course, the shadowy woman's words do little to appease that benifit, but...


"'Textbook'? That's a new one on me," Patrick answers in a level, calm tone, as he tries to get a read on the latest strange thing to happen today. "And I appreciate your interest, but I'm rather attached to my hide, and I don't go out with strange women who walk up and start calling me 'baby'. I've got places to go and people to help, and somehow I get the strangest feeling that I'd rather work for Section 31 than Section 1. So how about you go your way and I'll go mine, and we won't have to do the whole 'dark vs light - Round One - FIGHT' thing, then?"


He pauses, flips a mental coin, and decides to take a chance.


"Unless, of course, you're somebody else tired with the status quo and masquerade and want to help restore the way things ought to be."


He moves carefully to place himself between the woman and the fallen, dreaming companions of his...
 
Having seen what the suits could do, Malcolm wasn't sure if Hank would make it out in one piece. But he was perfectly willing to make space and shut the door. With a bolt of athletic speed he darted to the door control and thumped it.


Move to the control and Guard (or Dash if otherwise too far)
 
Erin


She understands now. The strange presence that has hovered over her is neither a curse nor a haunting, but a sword waiting to be taken up. A blade of light, a shield of fire.


Once it had belonged to a champion, knight and angel, whose blade was raised to defend everything that came under the shadow of his wings. He held no malice for the angry Powers that stood against him, and would gladly have let them depart in peace. But if out of spite and revenge they sought to destroy the world they had first created and cherished and then abused and neglected, he would withstand them without pity -- and if they chose death at his hands, that was their business. He would accept that responsibility as a part of his greater one, sorrow deeply for the slain, and lift his shield again...


There is a name for it, for this luminous spirit, brighter than sunlight, fresher than wind, that descended on him and made him more than mortal. That preacher-man, were he here, might talk about the Holy Ghost, and the tongues of flame that alighted on the Apostles. But this is a miracle from a different god -- from the one who shines before her remembered self now -- and it bears another name...


"Morning comes, if you have the courage to rise and see the dawning sun."
 
Was this...was this the power he was meant to have? That power that had been calling out to him in between the three realms, but lost in the empty void between them, beyond reach, possibly forever? Unbelievable. How was he going to face Athena and Bob?


"To dance the razor's edge takes courage. Find your inner strength and even the darkest void will cower in your might."
 
Patrick


"Oh, no. I like the status quo. We've been going down the crapper since my mother's mother was a babe. What's the end of humanity look like? A bunch of fat, pasty-faced bastards sitting in arm chairs, masturbating to a TV. That's it. We're all going to get dumber and dumber and fatter and fatter until all of the sudden...Bam! End of the road. The ship is sinking, and I'll pilot it right down the whirlpool first. Because that's where the fun is, twinkles. And you, you delightfully musty old tome, are going to buy me into the very house of lords."


She moves forward, and her fingers are twitching. Her eyes shine with an intense, glorious light sparkling through the muggy night, and the wind picks up. Coming off the ocean, it whips sand around your feet and over the road. The strange woman continues her advance. She moves very methodically, and her weight is always perfectly balanced. The final streetlight between you two dies.

She's about thirty feet away now, taking move actions towards you. Walking speed is about a meter a second. She'll be within arm's reach on her next action.


Arynne, LotS, I'm waiting on actual actions from either of you.


Hank, Malcom


The suits go for their guns, Hank goes for the suit, and Malcom goes for the switch. He gets it, and the cells clang open. Meanwhile Hank's opponent levels his gat at Jordan and blasts away. The other guy is still drawing.





Tick 3: Suit B draws, Malcom dashes and opens the doors(Diceless actions both), Jordan runs for the exit (He was taking wait/guard actions)


Tick 4:


Tick 5: Suit A shoot's Jordan (three successes), Hank hits him with his axe (roll it, please)


Tick 6: Malcom goes again (post something)


Tick 7:


Tick 8: Suit B is going to shoot Jordan


Tick 9:


Tick 10: Hank and possible Suit A


So I need an action from Malcom for tick 6, and dice for Hank for Tick 5.
 
Patrick


"Death by ennui, entropy bringing about the end of humanity before it heat-deaths the universe. Yeah, got that." Patrick slowly backs away as the woman advances, raising his gun and leveling it at her, aimed squarely between her eyes. "The ironic thing here, though, is that preventing that is exactly what I'm trying to do too. You want to pilot the sinking ship down a whirlpool - but I want to redo the hull in iron and fit rockets to it."


For a moment, he feels almost as if he were an Old West gunslinger - or maybe something else, similar but different, a long brown coat wrapped around him as the outlaw stood ready at 50 paces - before it fades, and he squints, halting his retreat, hands steady.


"You say you're satisfied with the status quo, but at the same time you want to change it. Nice contridiction, but irrelevant." Ignoring the increasing breeze, he plants his feet, adopting the classic Weaver Stance, two-handed grip on the pistol duster flapping in the breeze and ready.


"What is relevant though is that this is your last warning. You're awake, you're facing me, and from your actions I'm assuming you're armed, so while I may be a gentleman, if you don't cease and desist right now, I'll assume you're trying to kill me. And when somebody's trying to kill me, I try to kill them right back.


"Join, or die."

Backing away so that (Patrick hopes) he'll wind up just as far away from her as when things started. Before he stops, of course.
 
Outside


"Oh, baby, you're going to die all right. And I will sell your soul at the Black Castle."

Yay, more fighting.


Flet, which is her name, rolls 3 on JB. She's been taking move actions towards Patrick, and he retreats at half speed, so they're now 15 feet apart. On her next action she'll probably move and engage. She doesn't seem to be preparing any weaponry.


BR: Join Battle


Sleepers: Knock out a JB to, but at -3 internal each of you. Having shared a dream, you mutually awaken when it ends.


Blackadder, do you want to revise your action or need more description?
 
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