Philip, Parthipan, and Paul are now standing inside the Sacramento airport. There's no automated counter to pick up will-call tickets in sight, and there's a bit of a line leading to the customs area of international flights, of particular note to Paul, now that he has both new clothes, and luggage to store them in.
Dracos, with the casual fashion of those who fly all too fucking often, lead the way through getting the bags checked, picking up the tickets and heading through customs and onto the plane.
Once on, getting in the comfortable seat near the window, Dracos relaxes waiting for the flight to take off.
Dracos
Other than the oddity of being called a name that is not (strictly speaking) your own, you have no trouble getting through customs, as the majority of the weapons are elsewhere. After a seemingly endless wait, the plane finally takes off, and everyone is treated to the in-flight movie: "As Good as it Gets".
While unfamiliar with the movie, Dracos is more than familiar with long flights, and promptly goes into a relaxing meditative state only vaguely aware of the world around him until either food arrives or the plane lands.
Dracos
You do indeed fall asleep.
Paul pokes Parthipan, in the next seat. "Hey, how does the service work on here? Do I have to, like, pay for a bag of peanuts, or a scotch, or what?"
"You've never been on a plane before? The snacks, which they should start passing around soon, are free while things such as liquor aren't."
"Eh, I been on flights before, but not since I was like six. And they weren't going to serve me drinks then in any case. Can I bum a few bucks off you for some liquor, then?"
Ginrai sighs and hands Paul twenty dollars. "Just don't get yourself drunk."
"Well, I sure don't drink for the taste."
Paul sticks his hand out into the aisle and motions for a stewardess/flight attendant person. After a few seconds, he looks back and notices there's a BUTTON that calls them FOR YOU, and pushes it instead.
Ginrai decides that he might as well get himself a drink since he probably won't have another chance to have one for a while.
A harried looking thirtysomething with peroxide blonde hair trundles a cart over and asks, "Can I get you gentlemen anything?" while pre-emptively handing out two shrink-wrapped soy peanut alternatives (for those who are allergic): the wrapper reads, 'Pea-not'.
"Uh, yeah... What beverage service do you have? Me and my friend would like a few drinks."
"We have scotch, bourbon, and just beer," she replies with obviously forced cheer. "Two dollars for the bourbon, four for the scotch, and after your first, the beer will be one dollar per glass."
Paul glances at Parthipan, and turns back to the flight attendant. "Two glasses of scotch, if you please."
She nods, and quickly pours you each a small plastic glass of the golden liquor. After collecting the glass, she hands you each a shrink-wrapped in-flight snack (Pea-not (TM)), and moves along.
Paul takes an exploratory sip of the airline liquor, and if he doesn't find it too vile, tips his head back and swallows the rest of the glass.
The first sip is actually fine. Smooth as velvet.
After you quaff the rest of the glass, however, you realize it was not, in fact, scotch, but was a batillion of Scottish warriors composed entirely of napalm, and they're doing horrible things to your virgin lungs and throat.
Paul starts coughing and making horrible "Gaach!" noises, pounding his chest in the hopes that it will hasten the descent of the liquid fire into his stomach, which hopefully won't spontaneously implode upon contact.
"Ack! Jesus, if that doesn't put hair on my chest I don't know what will!"
Ginrai sips at his own drink more cautiously after your example.
In due course, you land at Heathrow, run the gauntlet of customs (again), and are then stuck in a lobby with a one hour wait to board your flight to Gibraltar. The plane to Gibraltar is relatively tiny compared to the one you took originally, this one having only two seats on either side of the single aisle, no in-flight movie, and your seats being (economy) no-where near one-another, though if you crane your neck and look around, you can establish visual contact.
Dracos first calculates the time discrepenties, making sure he won't be ruining setting himself up along the current time region. If he doesn't think he will, he first glances around the cabin and then, assuming nothing wrong or interesting, he enjoys looking out the window at the clouds during the trip.
Dracos
Paul look around at his fellow passengers, trying to see if any of them have colicky babies or might try to talk his goddamn ear off about their extension-cord business.
Philip: You are sitting next to a tired-eyed thin man in somewhat ragged green flannel who looks to be drowsing. He is in the aisle seat, and you (luckily) have the window. He's got straight black hair to about his shoulders, which looks the slightest bit greasy. His boots are still muddy....
Parthipan: You are sitting next to a resentful and sullen looking Japanese kid, probably in his late teens, dressed in casual clothing (long sleeved shirt, jeans). He stares fixedly forward, ignoring his opportune window seat.
Paul: You are sitting next to a middle-aged English businesswoman, in a power-suit who is already dozing off in her sleep.
Ginrai wonders if he can get any drinks while on the ride and also if there's any reason he should feel suspicious of the kid sitting next to him.
Parthipan: The kid next to you stands up in about the middle of the flight, and shoves his way past you (unless you let him pass, of course), then stalks off to the bathroom.
Paul: By your guess, after the latest announcement about the time, it's about 9:15 AM when you see three men stand up (roughly in unison), and bee-line towards the restroom, right after some Japanese kid sitting next to Parthipan.
Dracos: Sitting farthest forward, you have the best view of the event when the guy sitting next to you marches towards the bathroom door along with four others.
All: A stewardess approaches the men clustered around the bathroom, and urges them to sit down -- the bathroom will be open shortly. It does indeed open shortly, though not before she can convince them to get away from the door.
When the Japanese kid steps out of the bathroom, his arms are loaded with five handguns, and each of the men grabs one, the one formerly sitting next to Dracos quickly seizing the stewardess and holding the gun to her temple.
The five terrorists now have control of the plane, and the passengers stare in shocked silence as two of the men move up to the cabin of the plane. Three terrorists (one with a direct hostage, the now gibbering stewardess), and the two remaining both carrying handguns. In his off-hand, fidgeting with it nevously, the Japanese kid is carrying a box-cutter.
"Whoah, whoah, whaoh! What's going on here?"
Paul elbows the woman next to him to wake her up, then looks around for Dracos, with a look in his eyes that says "Do you BELIEVE this shit?"
'Great, just fucking great! Of all the things that could happen....'
Ginrai waits to see what the best course of action would be.
Dracos focused, slouching slightly in his seat as he glanced over the terrorists, attempting not to draw their attention to him at all as he played the part of a frightened passenger.
Dracos
detect magic on sight! Not that it does any good!
The terrorists all appear normal -- save the Box-Cutter Kid. His right hand has a faint blue glow.
______________
Brian "The GM Doesn't Usually Read Your Signature, So You Shouldn't Put Important Stuff To The Game There" Randall
Dracos continues remaining slouching, keeping an eye on the situation while outwardly continuing to give the impression of a frightened passenger.
Dracos
Paul figures taht these guys must be desperate or crazy to do a stunt like this, maybe both. He doesn't want them to do some more crazy things.
He sits there, waiting to see if these guys have any demands, and if they might be able to be talked to.
<Brian> The scene is thus. About four seats back from the end of the 'coach' section, towards the front of the plane, Phil is sitting next to an empty seat. Further back, about six seats on, on the right half of the plane (same side as Phil), is Paul, sitting next to Terrified Brittish Businesswoman. Opposite Paul, and about three seats up, Parthipan is sitting next to an empty seat.
Huitzil makes a sort of "Whidja-wha?" sound, then cuts himself off. What the fuck is this shit?
<Brian> The terrorists (three of them -- one Japanese teenager, two people of indeterminate European descent) are standing right at the divider between Coach and First Class. The two older men are scanning coach with watchful eyes, and carrying pistols.
<Brian> The kid is fidgeting with the box-cutter in his left hand nervously, and it looks a bit silly next to the pistol in his right hand.
<Brian> The stewardess next to the terrorists is pushed to sit in the nearest empty seat -- coincidentally, next to Phil.
Huitzil tries to make eye contact with the kid. Is he scared, desperate, violent, crazy, what?
Dracos blinks, staying silent, checking idly if the Stewardess is alright.
<Brian> Paul: He looks scared spitless, doesn't meet your eyes, and still has a lot of resolve in him. He has to be, to be here.
<Brian> Phil: She looks pretty scared, too, but try to give you a reassuring smile.
<Huitzil> Have they said anything?
<Brian> Not a word.
<Brian> The Box-Cutter Kid pockets his box-cutter, and pulls out a photograph, squinting, and comparing it to each face one-by-one.
Huitzil waits for a bit for them to say something about demands or anything of the sort.
<Brian> The loudspeaker crackles to life, and a faintly German-accented voice says, "This is your new captain speaking. We will not harm you, as long as you cooperate."
<Brian> A moment of silence follows, to allow this to sink in.
<Brian> "We are the Forge, and we are here to apprehend a number of enemies to the free world. We repeat, if you cooperate, you will not be harmed, and when we land, you will be handed over to your appropriate governmental authorities to be returned to your homes."
Dracos idly focuses on listening to the box-cutter kids thoughts.
<Brian> Phil: Please roll your telepathy.
<Huitzil> <Wait. Forge? Were they the Arcana guys or the Cabal guys?>
<Dracos> Roll 6d6 for undetected mindread pretty please!
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 6d6 for undetected mindread pretty please! --> [ 6d6=24 ]{24}
<Brian> "It's you, Tat," and then the loudspeaker cuts off.
<Brian> Phil: The kid is thinking (in a frenzied mantra) "Where is he? Where is he? Where is he?" Beneath that thought, you catch an image of a young Japanese schoolgirl in traction, and a stern male -- you get the gist of something about honor before your connection is cut off, and the kid's eyes lock with yours.
<Brian> "Who da fuck are you," he says in badly accented English, stalking a few steps forward, and pulling the box-cutter from his pocket again.
<Brian> One of the men stays a few steps behind him, quickly covering you with his pistol, but staying out of your striking range.
<Huitzil> "Hey, man. None of us wants any trouble."
<Brian> "You weren't spoken to," Goon One (behind the BCK) says roughly. "Shut the fuck up."
Dracos looks frightened, "Simon. I'm Simon Beckett."
Huitzil puts his hands up, kinda leans back, showing that hey, he's shutting up now.
<Brian> Paul: Roll 3d6 for your Acting skill (without the skill, you have a goal of 9-).
<Huitzil> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Huitzil ... : 3d6 --> [ 3d6=11 ]{11}
<Brian> The man narrows his eyes ... but after a moment turns his attention back to Phil.
<Brian> "Tell me where he is," BCK says loudly, snagging the photograph from one pocket, and showing it to you -- it's a picture of Shade, apparently taken while he was asleep in a hospital bed.
Dracos responds with a confused voice, "Who? Who the hell is that?"
<Brian> He growls, and glares at you. Through clenched teeth, he says, "The one who defiled my sister. WHERE IS HE?"
<Brian> "He's an enemy to the free people of the world," Goon One replies, eyes not on you, but surveying the rest of Coach. "We will bring him to justice, for the sake of everyone else."
<Dracos> "Man, I don't know who the fuck that is! Why the hell would I know where he is?" Dracos says with a hint of fear.
<Brian> BCK looks doubtful. "You were the one trying to dig into my mind," he says doubtfully. "You know something. If you don't..." he trails off, then smiles. "Find him for me. We know he has to be on this plane."
Huitzil tries to make eye contact with Phil, this time, seeing if they might be able to get some psychic shit going on sohe can talk tohim without speaking.
<Brian> Phil: To your eyes, his hand is still glowing blue, and there's a visible hole in his palm ... but you can tell it's not a real hole. It's nearly as wide across as the boy's palm itself.
<Dracos> "I was just damn scared and trying to find out what the fuck was going on...I didn't mean anything by it, I don't know who that is. I'll look for him, just don't kill me."
<Brian> BCK nods again, smiling to himself in satisfaction.
Dracos looks at the guards, slowly standing up provided they don't look contrary to it, following BCK's instruction.
<Brian> They back off, making sure you don't have the range to strike at them before they can use their weapons on you.
Dracos walks around the cabins slowly, visibly doing exactly what they asked.
<Brian> They keep their distance.
<Brian> But they also keep their eyes on you (BCK and Goon One -- Goon Two is scanning everyone else).
Dracos doesn't pause as he continues doing it until he's carefully gone around the entirety of the plane.
Huitzil thinks of what he can do to not look conspicuous, but can't think of anything.
<Brian> "Well?" BCK asks, when you complete the full circuit.
<Dracos> "I don't see anyone like that here. Not at all. There isn't even anyone else but you who's even oriental here. Unless that guy went through some heavy plastic surgery he isn't here."
<Brian> "He's here," BCK says impatiently. "And we're rare enough that you just lost the benefit of the doubt -- there's only ONE reason a person like you would even be headed to Gibraltar. Tell me where the hell he is."
<Dracos> "Fine, He's dead. He had his fucking neck ripped out a week and a half ago by some fucking crazy man just after I met the crazy asshole."
<Brian> BCK stares at you blankly. "That's bullshit," he says. "We planted a GPS tracker on him and he was still moving yesterday. Last chance, and then...." BCK trails off nervously.
<Brian> Goon One doesn't hesitate, and just puts the pistol to the stewardess's head. "Last chance," he repeats.
<Brian> The stewardess stiffens, quaking quietly with fear, eyes shut.
<Dracos> "Yeah, but he wasn't alive. The fucking crazy guy hauled his body off. I'm telling the truth. That's probably what you got off of GPS."
<Brian> Phil: Please roll 3d6 for Persuasion. This roll is with a -4 modifier.
<Dracos> Roll 3d6 please roll a 3.
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 3d6 please roll a 3. --> [ 3d6=10 ]{10}
<Brian> Goon One pulls the trigger. The bark of the gun fills the cabin with noise, and BCK is visibly shaken at the splatter of brains and blood that sprays across the cabin.
<Brian> Everyone is stock silent.
<Brian> Goon One then walks over towards Paul, and points the gun at him. "Strike one," he says. "You, talker, you have some sympathy for your friend here? If he doesn't give us an answer we like do you become strike two?"
Huitzil takes a very deep breath.
<Huitzil> "He's telling the truth, at least if the guy in the picture is who I think it is. He's dead."
<Brian> BCK is shaking nervously, but steps away from Phil, approaching you (and obviously glad to get away from the carnage). "How do you know?" he asks.
<Huitzil> "I saw his body. And when I saw him, he had been dead for at least a week. I saw him cremated."
<Brian> "But," he says slowly. Goon One starts to squeeze the trigger. "Wait!" BCK says. "How ... how can this be? We ... he ... HOW?" He looks obviously very frustrated. "My sister -- he can't just -- WHERE IS HE?"
Huitzil speaks slowly, appearing as nonagressive and non-confrontational as he can.
<Huitzil> "His body was incinerated on a beach in California. His skin was like chalk when the man threw him onto it, and his clothes burned faster than he did. The smoke from his corpse was the only thing that blocked the view of the stars. I'm sorry. He's dead."
<Brian> Please roll 3d6 for persuasion.
<Huitzil> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Huitzil ... : 3d6 --> [ 3d6=14 ]{14}
<Brian> BCK's fists shake. He says something incomprehensible to you (you don't speak Japanese), and shakes his head, collapsing to his knees.
<Brian> You realize he's crying.
Huitzil has absolutely no idea what to do.
<Brian> Goon One eyes him for a moment, then takes the gun from his unresisting hands. Keeping an eye on you, he says aloud, "Make for our landing site," to Goon Two.
<Brian> Goon Two nods, and retreats to the partition between Coach and First Class to use the intercom.
<Brian> BCK just sobs brokenly.
Dracos stands very still and out of the way, going out of his way to be non-threatening to the Nazi gunmen.
<Huitzil> "I'm sorry. I had never even seen him until he was dead. Was he your... Oh God, I'm so sorry."
<Brian> "I have to go back," BCK says in English. "I can't --" he breaks into Japanese here, and none of you understand it. Apparently the businesswoman next to you does, though, as her face drains of color.
<Brian> Paul: "They're going to crash the plane," she hisses to you under her breath. "Just like 9-11! The military will shoot us down before they let this happen!"
<Huitzil> "Look. I don't know what you're thinking, but it doesn't have to all end like this. You can still walk away, we can all still walk away from this."
<Brian> BCK talks to Goon One quickly, in Japanese. Goon One doesn't flinch, and shoots BCK squarely in the chest.
<Brian> roll 1d6+1d3
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 1d6+1d3 --> [ 1d6=1 1d3=3 ]{4}
<Brian> roll 1d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 1d6 --> [ 1d6=5 ]{5}
<Brian> Chest shot, massive stun. BCK goes careening down the aisle, and lies on the floor, gasping in pain. "Cooperate," Goon One tells the crowd, surveying everyone, "and no one else will be harmed."
Huitzil tries to avoid looking at the fan of blood and bone that used to be the stewardess.
<Huitzil> "Jesus!"
<Brian> Paul: The woman next to you hisses, "Oh, Jesus, he tried to get them to stop! What are we going to do!?"
<Huitzil> Paul whispers back, as low and urgent as he can without being overheard. "Keep calm. If we panic, then we will definitely die here. Just keep calm."
<Dracos> ~Huitz, you hear me?~
<Brian> The plane banks VERY sharply to the left -- the Goons (and Phil) need to grab seats to steady themselves, and everyone sitting down still needs to lean sharply to avoid spilling out of their seats.
<Huitzil> "Wha--" Paul snaps his head backwards in an instinctual "Who said that?" motion.
<Brian> "We'll be landing in about ten minutes," Goon One promises placidly. "Continue to cooperate, and everything will be fine."
<Huitzil> <Testing, testing, if you can hear these thoughts I hope to shit your name is Philip Bloom...>
<Dracos> ~I can hear you, what the fuck just happened?~
<Huitzil> <The woman sitting next to me says that they are going to crash the plane deliberately. The Japanese guy tried to tell them to stop. If you have any ideas, I'm all brain-ears.>
<Dracos> ~Shit, wait a minute, if they turn the plane again like that within the next sixty seconds, I want you to smash the goons in this part of the cabin hard in the chest, get them to drop their guns. I'll tell Gin. If they don't turn again, do it anyway after 60 seconds.~
<Huitzil> <I'll try. I just hope I don't blow anyone through the fuselage and kill us anyway.>
Dracos turns his head slowly glancing at Gin.
Huitzil starts singing in his mind....
<Huitzil> <it's the hooo, oooo, nky-tonk women... gimme, gimme, gimme, the honky-tonk blues...>
<Dracos> ~Be ready to Rush Gin. Huitz is going to knock the damn guys down, grab their guns and just get ready to fucking shoot. These guys are insane and are going to kill us all if we don't.~
<Ginrai> ~WHAT?! I shouldn't change forms?~
<Dracos> ~Just be damn ready.~ Dracos holds on to a seat, staying upright, ready to move, and keeping the mental time count going in his head.
<Brian> In about thirteen seconds, the plane wobbles very sharply, this time to the left.
<Brian> We'll enter combat time here.
<Ginrai> ~Ok.~ Ginrai takes a deep breath.
<Brian> Phase 0, all those with held actions (everyone) may go.
<Brian> Dex order.
<Brian> 16s. BCK takes a recovery and puts one hand over his gunshot wound.
<Brian> 15s.
<Brian> Paul: That's you.
<Huitzil> <The lady, then she covered me in roses... she blew my nose, and then she blew my mind!>
Huitzil attempts to use 25 or so STR to throw Goon 1 into Goon 2,hopefully toppling both.
<Huitzil> In TK, that is.
<Brian> Make a 3d6 roll for throwing.
<Huitzil> Since I may be passing out after this.
<Brian> Go ahead and roll.
<Huitzil> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Huitzil ... : 3d6 --> [ 3d6=10 ]{10}
<Brian> Direct hit. Please roll 8#1d6 Normal Damage for the collision. (x2 for surprise)
<Huitzil> roll 8#1d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Huitzil ... : 8#1d6 --> [ 1d6=1 ]{1}, [ 1d6=2 ]{2}, [ 1d6=6 ]{6}, [ 1d6=2 ]{2}, [ 1d6=3 ]{3}, [ 1d6=3 ]{3}, [ 1d6=4 ]{4}, [ 1d6=6 ]{6}
<Brian> And, roll that a second time, if you will?
<Huitzil> roll 8#1d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Huitzil ... : 8#1d6 --> [ 1d6=3 ]{3}, [ 1d6=4 ]{4}, [ 1d6=6 ]{6}, [ 1d6=6 ]{6}, [ 1d6=3 ]{3}, [ 1d6=4 ]{4}, [ 1d6=2 ]{2}, [ 1d6=6 ]{6}
<Brian> Goon One flails through the air, somersaulting across the cabin, and slamming into Goon Two. His arm strikes the back of a seat mid-flight with a sickening *SNAP* and splash of blood before his leg strikes Goon Two's neck with enough force to crush his windpipe.
<Brian> Both go down. Goon One may live with medical attention, but Goon Two is taking a nap from which he will never wake.
<Brian> Their guns fly across the carpet and slide towards the cabin.
<Brian> Paul: Calculate your lost END.
<Huitzil> Well, assuming I used 30 STR, that's 4.5 x 7.
<Brian> You used 25 STR, and your END multiplier is only x6.
<Brian> This is 15 END.
<Brian> You lose 14 END and take 1 Stun.
<Huitzil> 'kay
<Brian> That hurt, a bit, but you could probably do it again, if you absolutely had to.
<Brian> Phil: A full move and dive will put a gun in your hands.
<Dracos> Will said dive put me behind some kind of cover? Even if it's just the dead bodies of the other two goons?
<Brian> No. You'd be going across their bodies to reach the gun.
<Dracos> Where am I exactly at this moment in the cabin?
<Brian> You're about 4 meters from the coach/first class curtain (currently drawn back). You can see to the pilot's cabin, and the door is closed.
<Brian> No further terrorists are currently visible.
Dracos makes the dive for the gun, grabbing it.
<Brian> Okay. We can end combat here, as there are no visible threats in sight.
<Brian> The 16 and 20 points of BODY done to the two visible terrorists will keep them down for a while.
Ginrai gets up and goes for the other gun.
<Brian> The other passengers are staring with wide-eyed confusion and admiration at you.
Huitzil shuts his eyes, grits his teeth, and shakes his head really fast in an attempt to shed the sleepies.
<Brian> "It's a miracle!" the woman next to Paul yells. "They're -- YES!"
<Brian> Paul: Out of the corner of your eyes, and out the window, you see something.
<Huitzil> What would that something be?
<Brian> Paul: Looks like an F-16. The markings are French, and it's dark, though.
<Brian> Phil, Parthipan: You're now by the cabin door, and armed.
Dracos gets up and rushes for the pilot door, kicking at it to open it. If it doesn't open, then he moves to the damn side of the door and shoots the lock.
<Brian> Phil: You're shooting the lock. Please roll 3d6.
<Dracos> Roll 3d6 for it's a god damn lock.
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 3d6 for it's a god damn lock. --> [ 3d6=7 ]{7}
<Dracos> ...
<Huitzil> "Don't celb... oh my good lord Jesus fuck."
<Brian> The bullet does not ricochet. Instead, it lodges halfway into the lock ... and sticks there.
<Ginrai> "Paul, what's going on?"
Dracos gets some distance and does a running body slam at the door.
<Huitzil> "There's a goddamn fighter jet outside my window, that is what."
<Brian> You bounce off the door without being able to affect it much. You remember, now, that these doors were supposed to be reinforced on most planes after 9-11.
<Brian> The people in the plane still, and then start panicking anew. "What do we do?" the woman next to Paul asks, looking to him for guidance.
<Dracos> "Huitz, door, NOW! There are still more of them in THERE!"
<Huitzil> "Don't panic. We get into the cabin."
Dracos gets behind a seat and braces himself, aiming at the doorway.
Huitzil gets up, pushing his way past the girl into the aisle.
<Brian> She lets you past.
<Ginrai> "Wait... if these doors are reinforced, then how the fuck did *they* get in?!"
<Huitzil> "And damn it, STOP CALLING ME THAT!"
Huitzil walks up to the door and gives it a quick check. How sturdy?
<Brian> Pretty dang sturdy. It looks like it's already shrugged off a bullet.
<Ginrai> "Guys, you think you can handle this? I need to check on something."
<Dracos> "Go."
Ginrai heads back to the BCK and places the gun to his temple. "Answers, NOW!"
<Brian> He groans weakly, and looks away from you. You notice that while his back was turned, he managed to get a big gauze pad and press it to his wound.
<Huitzil> Can I try and use my TK to pull it, or would the necessary force to rip it off also send it flying out the back of the plane?
<Brian> Paul: That level of control will require a skill roll. There is an excellent chance that it will fly down the length of the plane with all that force.
Ginrai pulls the gun away.
<Huitzil> "Okay, everybody get out of the aisle RIGHT NOW!"
<Huitzil> "Phil, if this doesn't work, I'm not going to be able to help again, so cross your fingers."
<Ginrai> Bri: Am I and the BCK on it?
<Ginrai> If so, I'll pull him off of it and get myself out of harms way
<Brian> No one seems to understand what's going on, but all of the passengers quickly crowd away from the aisle -- Ginrai drags the (whimpering at the pain) BCK into an empty seat.
<Huitzil> <it's the hoooooooooonky-tonk women...>
<Brian> Phil, Parthipan: What are you doing right now?
Ginrai is next to the BCK, checking on the wound and seeing if he can get any answers. The gun is still in one of his hands.
<Dracos> Already said, I'm behind one of the seats near the entrance, braced and aiming at the door. First goonlike face I see I'm shooting at.
<Dracos> If it's not wearing a pilot's cap it's dead.
Huitzil looks down the aisle to make sure nobody is in it, and if nobody is, he steps out of the door's predicted path, sits down, and attempts to use 40 TK strength to rip the door off of its hinges.
<Huitzil> Or whatever a super-door has instead of hinges.
<Brian> Okay. Please make a skill roll for Fine Control. As you have the No Fine Control limitation, you will need to roll 6-.
<Huitzil> ohhhhhhboy
<Huitzil> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Huitzil ... : 3d6 --> [ 3d6=4 ]{4}
<Brian> The door neatly folds itself in half, leisurely floats over your head, and slams to the aisle behind you.
Huitzil hits the floor like a ton of bricks.
<Brian> Phil: You see two people inside, both of them looking back at the open doorway in shock -- and three bodies on the floor. Both people are sitting in the captains and co-pilot's seats respectively.
Dracos takes a bead at the copilot and tries to shoot him, being careful not to hit the panels in front of him if possible.
<Brian> Called shot -2 OCV, unskilled, -1. Make your attack roll.
<Dracos> hoooo.
<Dracos> Roll 3d6 please fucking hit.
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 3d6 please fucking hit. --> [ 3d6=10 ]{10}
Dracos crosses his fingers that the bracing helps.
<Brian> You missed. Luckily, you missed the panel, too. We enter combat time here.
<Brian> Phase 0, those with held actions (pilot, co-pilot, Ginrai) may act.
<Brian> Ginrai, you have the superior dex.
<Ginrai> Bri: Is it at all possible to hit either pilot or co-pilot from my distance? Or is it more likely that I'll hit the panel?
<Ginrai> Also, what're they dressed in?
<Brian> Your targeting probability in a shaking plane at this range is: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA- no.
<Brian> They're wearing the same clothes they were when they took the guns from BCK.
<Ginrai> Ah, shit.
<Brian> Your action?
Ginrai changes into wolf-mode
<Ginrai> Strongest form
<Brian> Go ahead and make your skill roll.
<Ginrai> roll 3d6 to end this shit now!
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Ginrai ... : 3d6 to end this shit now! --> [ 3d6=8 ]{8}
<Brian> You are now a massive wolf standing in the middle of first class.
<Brian> This manages to scare the piss out of the co-pilot, who turns his attention from Phil, and reflexively fires at you.
<Brian> roll 3d6 for WOLF!
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 for WOLF! --> [ 3d6=12 ]{12}
<Brian> roll 1d6+1d3
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 1d6+1d3 --> [ 1d6=6 1d3=2 ]{8}
<Brian> You are shot!
<Brian> roll 1d6 for stun multiplier
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 1d6 for stun multiplier --> [ 1d6=3 ]{3}
<Brian> You take 8 Body and 16 Stun before defenses.
<Brian> With 5 Resistant PD, you take 3 body, and with 10 PD total, you take 6 Stun after defenses.
<Brian> The pilot does not look back, and instead hunches over in his seat.
<Brian> Phase 4, speed threes may act. Parthipan, Phil, this is you (Dex order).
<Brian> Phil first.
Dracos changes his aim at the pilot, aims carefully, and fires at him.
<Brian> Make a roll.
<Dracos> Roll 3d6 please bloody hit him.
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 3d6 please bloody hit him. --> [ 3d6=9 ]{9}
<Brian> Your bullet plows into the back of his chair. He seems unaffected, himself.
<Brian> Parthipan: Your turn.
Ginrai charges the co-pilot and attempts to bite him
<Brian> Please roll 3d6 to attack.
<Ginrai> roll 3d6 for an early snack!
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Ginrai ... : 3d6 for an early snack! --> [ 3d6=13 ]{13}
<Brian> You grab a leg.
<Brian> Please roll 1d6+1d3 killing damage for your attack.
<Ginrai> roll 1d6+1d3 for easy amputation!
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Ginrai ... : 1d6+1d3 for easy amputation! --> [ 1d6=2 1d3=1 ]{3}
<Brian> Now roll 1 1d5 for your stun multiplier.
<Ginrai> roll 1d5
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Ginrai ... : 1d5 --> [ 1d5=4 ]{4}
<Brian> He doesn't block any of that stun, but it's less than his Con. He is not dazed.
<Brian> He is, however, shrieking in pain, as you're nearly shattering his leg with your teeth, and he is bleeding profusely. Into your mouth.
<Brian> The pilot screams, "Mother Mary above! What the fuck is going on?" and the plane rolls heavily to the left as he abandons the controls, going for his own gun.
<Brian> Phase 6, speed 2s.
<Brian> The co-pilot attempts to free his leg from Parthipan's bite.
<Brian> roll 3d6-2
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6-2 --> [ 3d6=10 ]{8}
<Brian> Parthipan: Please roll 3d6-5 for an opposed strength check.
<Ginrai> roll 3d6-5
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Ginrai ... : 3d6-5 --> [ 3d6=10 ]{5}
<Brian> He tries to free his leg, hitting your nose rather ineffectually with the butt of his pistol.
<Brian> The pilot tries to shoot you.
<Brian> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 --> [ 3d6=7 ]{7}
<Brian> And hits.
<Brian> roll 1d6+1d3
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 1d6+1d3 --> [ 1d6=6 1d3=3 ]{9}
<Brian> roll 1d5
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 1d5 --> [ 1d5=5 ]{5}
<Brian> After defenses, you take 4 Body (total of 7 Body lost, now) and 35 Stun.
<Brian> You're out.
<Brian> Phase 8, Speed 3s can act. Phil, this is you, Parthipan, you take a gratis recovery.
<Brian> This puts you (after your recovery) at -7 Stun.
Dracos takes a second to examine the uniforms of the folks on the ground and in the chairs, keeping covered.
<Brian> Phil: The actual pilot and co-pilot (and other stewardess) were killed and left on the ground.
<Brian> Phase 12, everyone acts.
<Brian> Phil: Dex order, you go first.
Dracos shoots for the co-pilot.
<Brian> Please roll 3d6
<Dracos> Roll 3d6 for a dead man in the morning!
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 3d6 for a dead man in the morning! --> [ 3d6=16 ]{16}
<Brian> roll 1d6 for luck
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 1d6 for luck --> [ 1d6=3 ]{3}
<Brian> You hit the window.
<Brian> It explodes.
<Brian> The force causes a reaction of glass + pilot = 1/2 pilot laceration.
<Brian> roll 2d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 2d6 --> [ 2d6=4 ]{4}
<Brian> roll 1d5
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 1d5 --> [ 1d5=1 ]{1}
<Brian> He's a tough guy, though, and shakes it off, grunting in pain, and trying to shoot at Phil
<Brian> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 --> [ 3d6=11 ]{11}
<Brian> His shot misses, hitting the back of the pilot's cabin (thanks to Phil's cover).
<Brian> The co-pilot whimpers, and turns forward (as his half of the wind-screen is still intact), and tries to take control of the plane again -- you can hear an alarm blaring, and some red lights are flashing, as well.
<Brian> Post segment 12, everyone takes a recovery.
<Brian> Parthipan: You are at 0 END, and will not yet regain consciousness.
<Brian> Phase 4, speed 3s may act. Dex order: BCK.
<Brian> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 --> [ 3d6=10 ]{10}
<Brian> roll 3#1d3
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3#1d3 --> [ 1d3=1 ]{1}, [ 1d3=3 ]{3}, [ 1d3=3 ]{3}
<Brian> roll 3#1d5
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3#1d5 --> [ 1d5=4 ]{4}, [ 1d5=4 ]{4}, [ 1d5=2 ]{2}
<Brian> Three largish shuriken fly through the door, manage to resist the winds, and line themselves up in a neat row deep in the pilot's chest. He whimpers something, and collapses into a limp pile.
<Brian> Another three shuriken just stick in the walls outside the door.
<Brian> One of them pretty close to Phil's face.
<Brian> Speaking of which, it is now Phil's turn.
Dracos shoots again at the co-pilot.
<Dracos> Roll 3d6 come on, stop being mean Chibi-suu and give me a 4
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 3d6 come on, stop being mean Chibi-suu and give me a 4 --> [ 3d6=12 ]{12}
<Brian> Braced, set, from cover ... 1/2 DCV since his back is turned....
<Brian> ... you hit by exact count.
<Dracos> o_o
<Brian> Roll 1d6+1d3 damage.
<Dracos> Roll 1d6+1d3 DIE IN ONE!
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 1d6+1d3 DIE IN ONE! --> [ 1d6=2 1d3=3 ]{5}
<Brian> He's already wounded from Ginrai's bite, so he's actually not going to take stun, as he's now below 0 body.
<Brian> You've taken him down.
<Brian> Combat ends. Parthipan takes a recovery, and automatically reverts to human form.
Dracos moves for the controls and immediately starts looking for ways to level the plane if it isn't level and any recognizable communication devices.
<Brian> There's a headset ... there's some sound coming from it, too.
Dracos grabs the headset and puts it on "Hello, Hello?!"
<Brian> Parthipan: You're at 1 body due to the bullets in your shoulder and your stomach. You're not feeling too good. A passenger quickly grabs a first aid-kit, either undaunted by the fact that you were a wolf, or just in shock. Either way, he binds your wounds.
<Brian> Phil: Someone is saying something about a last warning in French, you think. It sounds like they want you to say something. You manage to level the plane ... yeah ... you've played some video games ... this'll work.
<Dracos> "Aide, Help, Terrorists, Tu as Anglais? Je n'ai pas pilot. A cote, we're turning around, just tell us how."
<Brian> There's a loooong moment of silence. Afterwards, (though the wind blowing into your eyes from the open window) you see two F-16s fly ahead of you, then veer left. In English, someone says, "Follow the fighters in for immediate landing."
<Brian> A second later, someone else says, "Hello, this is the control tower. Pilot, are you familiar with aircraft operation?"
<Dracos> "I'll do as best I can, I really don't know how to operate this thing." Dracos does as they say, trying to navigate after the pilots. "No, I'm not. I'm a bloody programmer, not a pilot."
Dracos examines the controls with an eye honed by both gaming and engineering though, trying to figure out everything as fast as possible.
<Brian> "Okay. Listen to me carefully. We want you to very gently pull back on the steering control, and roll it just a hair to your left. At the same time, there's a foot pedal, and we want you to gently depress the left one about one half depression ... it should make two very soft clicks when you reach that point."
<Dracos> "Understood." Dracos calms himself and focuses on exactly following the directions. Once done he responds "Okay done."
<Brian> Paul: You wake up at about this point. Someone's put a blanket over you. It's cold. And windy.
<Huitzil> "Muh? Did we win?"
<Brian> They continue to feed you instructions as you go along, until you see a runway below you. You can tell it's a runway, because it's got lights in the shape of a runway. And about a bajillion different emergency services lights all 'round the far end of the runway, as well.
Huitzil wraps the blanket around himself and stands up. "What's with all the glass?"
<Ginrai> Bri: Am I able to move or at least talk?
<Dracos> "Okay, I see a runway...now how do I land this thing?"
<Brian> They walk you through it step-by-step. Assuming you don't suddenly scream, "OH! GOD! STOCKHOLM SYNDROME!" and plow into the tower, they walk you through the entire landing (though it's a bit bumpy).
Dracos lands the plane! And then proceeds to breathe out once the plane has come to a complete stop.
Huitzil has, by this point, gotten the fuck away from Phil for fear of messing him up.
Ginrai groans. "God, that hurts!"
<Brian> The plane comes to a halt, and stairs are wheeled up to the doors. You're pretty sure that you're in France, but all the doors are opened simultaneously, and about a dozen men in full military gear storm in, followed by half that number of doctors. One of them rushes to Ginrai, another to BCK, as the military men secure all the weapons, and begin unloading all the not-visibly injured passengers.
<Brian> Paul: You're herded outside and given a folding chair (and blanket) with about thirty or forty other passengers. Someone comes around to pass out juice after a while. You wish they had hot cocoa, or something.
<Huitzil> Well, juice is better than nothing. I try not to look like I know too much.
Dracos slowly stands up, gladly getting rid of the gun to the military guys, breathing in and out slowly.
<Brian> Phil: You're escorted to a separate area, where some very officially-dressed military gentlemen grill you thoroughly about what happened.
<Brian> Parthipan: You're loaded onto a stretcher and carted off to a hospital.
<Brian> BCK is hauled off in a different ambulance.
<Brian> Now. One of the official-looking men clears his throat, and introduces himself as Thomas (no last name). "Sir, if you would, can you tell us exactly what happened?"
<Dracos> "I'll try...pardon if I ramble a bit...this was...more than a little nutsy. Anyhow, I was sitting in my seat watching the clouds go by when the guy next to me, a tough looking fellow and a few others around the plane suddenly got up. I didn't pay it any mind but a few minutes later there's a loud ruckus down back by the bathroom and they're all charging down the plane with guns in their hands. Four guys and that Japanese teenager. "
<Dracos> "They took over the plane quickly, keeping us all down with the guns for a bit, until the teenager suddenly came up to me rambling all crazylike and wanting me to search the cabins for some guy. I didn't want to get shot, so I just did exactly what they wanted me to do. But the guy wasn't there. I told 'em this, hoping they wouldn't kill me...and they didn't...they just damn shot the stewerdess and started screaming at me all crazylike."
<Brian> "I see. How did you manage to regain control of the plane from the terrorists?"
<Dracos> Dracos blinks, "Well, this'll sound strange but...during one of the turns, I don't know what happened but the terrorists in the cabins just went flying into each other. Like one of 'em had been shot out of cannon or something. I grab for one of the guns and turn turn for the cockpit, as there had been two more that had gone up there... and found the bloody door ripped off it's hinges and the pilots dead on the floor. I traded shots with them until I managed a lucky shot, that Asian kid turning on them and killing the other one. Then I ran for the cockpit and tried to figure out how to get it back stable and get out of that alive."
<Brian> "I see," he says, nodding slowly. "Well, Mr...?"
<Dracos> "Beckett. Simon Beckett." Dracos runs a hand tiredly over his head.
<Brian> He nods. "We're going to put you and the rest of the survivors up in the British embassy, until we can sort this out. We realize you probably have business to attend to, but we'd like you to remain nearby so we can investigate this more closely. As you can imagine, this kind of thing doesn't usually turn out as well as it did this time. With all of the terrorists dead ... except for the young Asian boy, collecting the clues will likely be difficult."
Dracos nods understandingly, his face tired.
<Brian> He frowns. "Well, the wounded will be put up in the hospital, until they're well enough to be released," he corrects himself. "If you'll come with me, we'll have you put up in a room."
Dracos nods and stands to follow.
<Brian> You're generally lead back to the rest of the crowd. Paul finds you after a bit, and calls you -- it takes three, "Simon!"s before you realize it's YOU he's talking to.
<Brian> After a bit, you're gently herded into a car, and eventually end up in what amounts to a decent hotel room.
Phil, Paul: You're now sharing a hotel-esque room in the embassy. It's decently furnished, and remarkably un-airplane like, with a distinct lack of terrorists and Box-Cutter Kids.
Parthipan: You're hauled to a hospital where they examine your wounds, jabber at eachother for a bit, then put you under to operate. You wake up in the morning, in a hospital bed in a well-lit room. Your wounds have been patched up, and you feel sore, but much better. (You have healed 2 Body overnight, bringing your current total up to 3.) You're currently in a hospital bed, and except for the nuse that drops off a meal for you (looks like British fare, but tastes better), you're pretty much left alone to heal.
Dracos plops down in a chair, "Fuck... That was completely fucking insane."
Dracos
"I think I'm in shock. I didn't know it would feel like this.
"What... what was that? Who were those people, why were they doing it, what were they doing... Jesus, what is going on? And what happened to Dr. Swarthy?"
"Dr. Swarthy? Oh Gin? He's at the hospital."
~Man, this is bad. We can't move around like this. Don't speak aloud about anything serious as this room is possibly bugged, but we're in trouble. Hopefully seventh cabal won't notice, but that's unlikely if they're keeping watch on the area. All it needs is one report to get back to them and they'd know exactly where a bunch of us metas are holed up.~
Dracos
<This telepathy thing creeps me out, but I suppose with fucking secret goddamn cabals and random terrorist attacks, what creeps me out doesn't matter that much. Just... don't use this unless it's an emergency or Seekrit Agent people are listening, all right? I'm not sure I'm comfortable with someone looking into my head with so much dickgirl porn in it.>
"So, does this place have cable, or do we just get shitty French broadcast TV? I think Monk's on. Or was already. Or is going to tomorrow. I hate time zones."
<So, do we know where wolf-boy is being treated? Are we allowed to see him? We need to get him out as soon as we can; he's vulnerable while he's there, we can't move on without him, and who knows whether or not turning into a fucking wolf leaves any sort of thing doctors could detect.>
~Gin is probably in a better condition than us. He can turn into a small dog after all, no? Dogs can get almost anywhere unnoticed. He should be able to get out of there fine. If he can't we'll figure out something once we get ourselves out of here.~
"It's france man. Everything here tvwise is shit. I really hope we don't get stuck here too long."
~Now, the question is how we can get out of here without too much notice.~
Dracos
Dracos checks his bags, getting out the cellphone and sending a text message to Rez, hoping it's still secure before shutting it off.
Hey Rez, Fucking 7th cabal terrorists took over the plane hunting for Shade. So much for stealth. We're currently bombed up at the embassy in France.
Dracos
After setting up and examining the room, Dracos heads to bed, kicking the shellshocked Huitz in bed too.
Dracos
You're woken up the next morning by a represenative of the British embassy, and a representative of the airline you flew. The airline representative explains (in short) that they've refunded your tickets, and would like to offer you free fare to Gibraltar.
The embassy rep asks if you're up to dealing with reporters, and suggests that your friend (Ginrai) will be able to walk within a day or two, if all goes well, and you can then be on your way again.
"I guess, I really don't feel much like being on the news though."
Dracos
"If not, then please just relax," the embassy representative suggests. "We haven't much to do here, but we can make sure you won't be bothered until you leave."
"And when you do, it's entirely on us," the airline rep ads, before the two turn and leave you alone.
Dracos nods frowning and looking outside.
"No where to go until Ginnyboy is able to move but somehow this is going to blow up in our faces."
Dracos
"This has already blown up in our faces. In fact, it blew up in our faces, and then it made our goddamn faces blow up, and now they're working on our torsos."
Dracos sits down and watches the news, waiting for news of Gin's recovery and idly checking the phone every few hours for return messages.
Dracos
"Damn it! I've seen this episode so many times, I could tell you what they're saying even if they aired it in goddamn Sanskrit.
"Do you think it would be too dangerous to go out sightseeing or visit Parthy in the hospital, or go see a movie or something? I'm getting really bored."
Dracos produces a set of poker cards from his luggage, "Bored is good. Outside would likely be either reporters or paparazzi. They'll leave us alone while we're on embassy grounds. I don't know about you but I don't think they have my face plastered all over the news yet and I'd like to keep it that way."
Dracos
Paul takes the deck of cards and deals himself out a game of Solitare, sitting on his bed.
Dracos blinks, raising an eyebrow and shrugging.
He then goes out of the room to explore the embassy/search for the mighty breakfast!
Dracos
There's a cafeteria downstairs where they serve unexiciting if palletable British/French fare.
A few security guards stand about in the hallways, and the place seems fairly busy -- people running about with stacks of paperwork and such.
Dracos goes and loads up, paying if necessary. He particularly grabs some croissants as he has yet to have a bad french croissiant.
After eating, he heads back to the room, commendeers the TV setup, wires the laptop through to it, and proceeds to fill the rest of the day with... Cowboy Bebop.
Dracos
Dracos: You manage to relocate Paul's complaints about having seen episode X from the television in your room to your laptop. Other than that, the day passes pretty swiftly.
Dracos goes and gets dinner. After returning he checks his phone for messages, if there isn't one, he sends another:
Okay, we're going to be heading to Gibraltar either tomorrow or the next day. We likely will be worthless for stealth with this much attention on us but at the least we won't be easy to just kidnap or kill until we land at Gibraltar. Any help from the Oracle in vanishing without a trace once we get there would be much appreciated. Hope things are going more smoothly on your end.
Turning it off, he shuts off the lights, and gets to bed early, wanting a good nights sleep for tomorrow.
Dracos
A reply is sent via text message to Dracos's cell-phone while whiling the day away, before he dozes off.
Dracos ponders, turning off the phone.
~Hey Huitz, they recommend trying to leave a false trail elsewhere. Thoughts? I think that'll be too obvious to be worth crud with us not having presetup plans for it. Even if we aren't good for recon I think we might as well be in Gibraltar rather than still being easily trackable and being far away from our target.~
Dracos
<How looong, how long must we sing this song; how long, how loooo-oooo-ooong -- burghrupighet?>
Paul looks startled, then peeved.
<Jesus, some warning ought to be nice. Tap me on the right shoulder or something to signify "Hey, I am going to be ICQ'ing your BRAIN in a few seconds. Anyway. We can still go to Gibraltar and leave a false trail, but it will cost us some more money. Just be overheard saying that we're so shaken up over this that we want to go back to America, and use the credit card that biught the tickets we used to buy three more, back to LAX. Then, use a totally different card, one that hasn't been used yet, to buy our tickets to Gibraltar. Or maybe the next airport over, and then go by car/bus/foot to Gibraltar, just to be safe.>
~Hmm... Forget false trail. They'd buy our tickets, which would totally invalidate the point as we wouldn't be leaving a credit card trail to follow. We go to Gibraltar, officially by plane, unofficially we enter the airport, hang around for a bit, and get on a bus heading south. We're not going to be able to fake that we're not going to Gibraltar. I'd not buy it and I don't like assuming that a big organization is more stupid than I am when my life's on the line. They'll know we are going there and be prepared for it. The only way we can sensibly throw them is in how we get there.~
Dracos
<I suppose you're right. If they know why we're going, logically they know that this kind of quest isn't something you can up and quit.>
<At the very least, if we try to fake them out, we should get there BEFORE they expect us. If they know that we wouldn't go back, then when the plane shows up and we're not on it, they'll still know that we'recoming and they will still be prepared. But if we get the AI thingy to create a fake credit card trail for us, in france, fucking around, buying souveniers, staying at a hotel, and buying a plane ticket for a few weeks from now, all while we're driving down there... that might work better.>
~That's a thought.~
Dracos tossed Huitz the phone, "Why don't you drop your folks a ring man?"
~Contact them and see if it's possible. If it is, make it happen. Either way we'll pick up Gin and head to the airport tomorrow. I'm getting some sleep now so I'm more energized to handle any unexpecteds.~
Dracos puts actions to words.
Dracos
"'Kay."
Paul starts pushing buttons on the phone, producing soft beeps with each keypress, pausing after each set of five or six to look in a phone book opened at his side. He mutters "fucking international dialing codes..." after about twenty, "Damn it, I think I did the one for Canada..." after thirty-five or so, and "GODDAMNIT WHY THE FUCK CAN'T I JUST PRESS THE BUTTON AND MAKE IT GO?" at seventy or eighty.
He, of course, is not dialing an international number; he is sending a text message to Nathan, which reads as follows:
NEED HLP FROM AI. MAKE FAKE CC PURCHASES IN FRNCE 4 ALL F US SUVENRS TOURS TICKETS 2 PLAYS. BUY TIX TO GIB. THAT LEAV IN 2 WKS. C U THR SOONR. HUIT.
After all the buttons have been pressed and the message sent, he holds the phone to his ear and starts making nonverbal,impatient noises. After he counts out 30 seconds in his head (his estimate of 7 seconds per ring, 4 rings, and 2 seconds of answering machine message) he starts to talk... "Hi, this is Tim, just calling to let you know I'm fine, I'm layed up in France for a while though... Me and Simon are gonna stay here for a while and do some sightseeing, so we'll probably come back a couple weeks late... uh, so, call me back when you get this message... loveya, bye... wait, what time is it over there anyway?"
Then he hits the "End" button, even though he wasn't making a call, then puts the cell phone on the nightstand, turns off the light, and goes to sleep as well.
Both of you sleep soundly for most of the night.
However, at about 1:00 AM, Philip is finally roused from his bed by the continous beeping of the cell-phone Paul left on the nightstand.
Dracos grumbles, checks the phone for a message, and picks up if it isn't there.
Dracos
There is a message (of a sort) on the phone: "Tracking detection warning!"
"Fuck," Dracos shuts off the damn phone. "Dammit."
Dracos frowns. "So much for a nice night of rest..."
Dracos
Dracos decides to stay up, making sure his stuff is packed and ready to go, same with huitzil's stuff. When it's late enough to phone the hospital, he tries to get through to Ginrai.
Dracos
<Brian> Paul: Currently, you are asleep.
<Brian> You are having a dream.
<Brian> You know it is a dream.
<Brian> Before you is a long corridor, linoleum tiles stretching off into the distance. The hallway is perhaps three meters wide, and every ten or so meters down the corridor, there is a door. They're staggered, though. Five meters, door on the left, five further meters, door on the right, and so on.
<Brian> The hallway is lined with things your eyes won't QUITE fix on.
<Brian> Maybe it's a potted plant, and this is an office building. Maybe it's discarded medical equipment, like an unused IV stand.
<Brian> Maybe it's a coffee table. Or a stretcher. Or a coffee machine.
<Brian> When you look, whatever objects you try and examine blur, and stretch, and you can't tell what it's supposed to be.
Huitzil starts walking, hands in his pockets, looking to his sides at the doors (if they have windows in 'em like he thinks they dos)
<Brian> There are windows, but someone has put white paper behind them, and taped it to the wire-and-glass screens.
<Brian> And the walls, and the floor, with it's overhead florescent lighting ... seems to be visible twice. Once in a slightly wavery view, and once in a more drunken view, twisting around and only lining up when you look directly at it.
<Brian> It stretches as far as you can see in either direction.
<Brian> When you look down at yourself, you're wearing a blue jumpsuit, and carrying a large wrench ... or maybe a hammer ... or maybe a ledger, or a legal binder. You're not certain, because it seems to change, even to your sense of touch.
Huitzil keeps walking, past a few more doors, and then randomly decides to open one.
<Brian> The lock rattles loosely, but does not open.
<Brian> You are barefoot, and the floor is flesh temperature. But as soon as you touch the door handle, you hear the tapping of booted feet on tile.
Huitzil whirls around to look where the sound is coming from.
<Brian> You see nothing in the distance, as the corridor stretches on (seemingly) forever.
<Brian> You can't even tell which direction it's coming from.
Huitzil punches the door behind him one more time, then resumes his walk down the corridor.
<Brian> The footsteps seem (now that you're moving again) to be pacing you, not drawing any closer, not falling any further behind.
Huitzil stops.
<Brian> It sounds to your ears like it's a single person, approaching you at a steady pace. When you stop, the footsteps slowly grow louder.
Huitzil starts walking again, faster this time.
<Brian> You're not able to outstrip your pursuit, only match it/
Huitzil starts wiggling doorknobs as he walks past them, not slowing down too much, just checking if they're unlocked.
<Brian> The more noise you make, the louder the footsteps sound -- however, after about six more doors you encounter something to one side of the corridor that doesn't seem to flex or blur. There is a full-length mirror along the wall that reflects you, your blue jumpsuit, and the ... undefined blur of something you're holding in your left hand.
Huitzil tugs a bit on the jumpsuit.
<Brian> It feels like cotton.
<Brian> Your reflection tugs on his jumpsuit, too.
Huitzil glances back behind him again.
<Brian> The corridor behind you is dark. And now, so is the one ahead of you.
Huitzil starts walking again, hurrying now.
<Brian> The mirror continues to show up, after every door on the right. If it was something else as you approached, it turns into the mirror as soon as you glance away, or blink.
Huitzil doesn't look in the mirrors much more than a glance, and advances his pace to a light jog.
<Brian> The footsteps begin to draw closer to you, and start running at the same pace as you.
Huitzil breaks into the best run he can manage.
<Brian> You run, and you don't feel tired doing it.
<Brian> A voice whispers, "I've got you now, groundling," jovial and malicious, echoing from the same place as the footsteps.
Huitzil stops, looks around in a panic, and then slams into the nearest door, as hard as he can, trying to pop it open.
<Brian> When you look around, you see someone running towards you. He's wearing a long coat, which flares out behind him, all black. A pale face, black hair, black slacks, a black shirt, black shoes (leather) and black gloves complete the ensemble. His hands are bare, and he's grinning at you maliciously.
<Brian> Please make a roll (3d6) for an EGO check.
<Huitzil> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Huitzil ... : 3d6 --> [ 3d6=6 ]{6}
<Brian> The door doesn't budge an inch. But you're no longer holding ... something ... in your hand, it's a key chain, and the keys have labels like, "Old co-ed classmates," "My brother," "the quest," "Cool goons," "Fantasy inspired," "anything goes," and "old friends."
Huitzil frantically searches through the keys, but doesn't look down at them; instead, he stares in horror at his pursuer. After a few seconds, he chooses a key, and sticks it into the lock.
<Brian> roll 1d7
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 1d7 --> [ 1d7=4 ]{4}
<Brian> The door doesn't exactly open, as much as dissolve into light, a blinding wall of something you can't see through. Your pursuer is drawing closer and looks shocked. "No!" he yells, "you're not getting away!"
Huitzil jumps through the door/wall after one last, hypnotic look at his pursuer.
<Brian> You burst through the light, and feel as though your body were being stretched, warped, and ... now you're back in the last dream you remember, sitting across from the overweight card-geek. He frowns, and lowers the mirror, leaving you unable to see your own reflection. This time, it's not the Lord of the Rings card game, it's a game of chess.
<Brian> "Anyway," the card-geek says, eyeing the board in distaste. "Your move," and then he says a name. You know it's a name, but you don't know what name it is, only that it isn't your name.
Huitzil shakes his head a bit, as if he was trying to "shake off the sleepies", even though he knows he's asleep.
Huitzil looks down at the board, to see what kind of situation he's in.
<Brian> This isn't a standard chessboard by any means. It has to be a thousand squares wide, and a thousand squares deep, with hundreds upon hundreds of pieces across the board. You see, in your capture pile on the left, four pieces that remind you of the terrorists on the plane. You're playing white, and your opponent is playing black ... but when you look, there are other colors on the field, as well.
<Brian> The pieces next to the Paul Durant figurines are a man crouching on a slumbering wolf, someone who is unmistakably Dracos standing on a pedestal of flowering vines, and as a red piece, the box-cutter kid.
<Brian> To one side you see the Bjorn Christianson piece, standing on a glowing circle of light, and near him, a white Nathan Shuker, with a golden arm, and flaming arrows. Between them is a green Victor, blood dripping from the piece's mouth, and around them, a number of gray pieces that resemble people you've never seen before.
Huitzil starts to reach toward the red piece, looking up at his opponent -- knowing that type of person, if he can't use that piece, he'll tell him.
<Brian> He opens his mouth to say something, but bites it back, eyeing you calculatingly.
Huitzil withdraws his hand, then places it on his chin, thinking.
Huitzil glances at the card-geek's captured pieces pile.
<Brian> There's a Shade piece, if you recognize him correctly.
<Huitzil> Any others I can recognize, and how many pieces are in it?
<Brian> There's hundreds. And you don't recognize any others immediately.
<Huitzil> "Hmmm...."
<Brian> "Well?" your opponent asks, gesturing towards a swiftly ticking clock on one side of the table.
Huitzil reaches for the BCK again, and this time, looks out at the pieces near it.
<Huitzil> "I'm thinking, I'm thinking."
<Brian> There's three nearby. None of them are familiar to you, but there is a man with a submachine gun, a woman with a knife, and another woman, this one standing on a glowing circle like the one Bjorn is, only all three of them are black.
Huitzil picks up the BCK and moves it to capture, let's say, the glowy woman.
<Brian> As soon as you touch the piece, everything goes white, and you come to your senses standing on the balcony of some traditional-esque Japanese house.
<Brian> Below you is a yard, lined entirely in cherry petals, and more of them are snowing from the sky, to appearances. There's also a koi pond below, miraculously free of petals.
Huitzil looks down at himself. Still in the jumpsuit, in normal clothes, kimono?
<Brian> You're wearing a high-school kid's uniform.
<Brian> A Japanese high-school kid's uniform.
<Brian> Behind you is a sliding glass door, and within, a bed, surrounded with various pieces of medical machinery. You can't see if there's anyone in the bed behind all the machinery, but you can see BCK standing at the foot of the bed solemnly.
Huitzil takes another glance at the falling petals, then walks into the room, and stands silently next to BCK. What is he doing now, and is there someone in the bed?
<Brian> There's a girl who looks enough like BCK to be his twin, and she's unconscious, medical machinery beeping quietly to inform you that her heart is still beating. BCK is just staring at her solemnly, though he turns and looks at you when you enter.
<Brian> "Why are you here?" he asks in confusion.
<Huitzil> "I... I don't know. I don't think I'll be here for long." He gestures toward the woman. "How is she doing?"
<Brian> "She's much better in the waking world than my dreams," he says after a moment, turning to stare at her blankly. "This is ... I'm worse off than she is, maybe, now." He laughs bitterly.
<Huitzil> "What happened to her?"
<Brian> "That ... other one, who I thought was your friend," BCK says, turning and spitting on the floor. "Shattered her legs, and left her to die." His face softens slightly. "The tranquilizer dart was perhaps an act of mercy after that brutality."
<Brian> He turns to look at you again. "I was sent to avenge her. And now I find I've not only failed, I've dishonored my family in a place far from home, by playing with forces beyond my control. Is this, perhaps, karma?"
<Huitzil> "I don't know. If it is, I wouldn't be the one to judge it. Will she heal?"
<Brian> "Given time, perhaps. She will not walk ... not for years, without many surgeries."
<Huitzil> "You loved her. You wanted the best for her. I don't think anything in the pursuit of that could be called dishonorable."
<Brian> "Failing is not honorable. I think ... I will not live much longer. What I have done, even though I never intended any save ... that one to die ... will not be forgiven by my imprisons."
<Brian> He shakes his head. "Even then, I am trapped, and people who know what I ... what WE are will find me. They will come, and kill me." He shakes his head again, and turns to you. "And then when they are done with me, they will kill you, too."
<Huitzil> "If this is what I think it is, then maybe, I might be able to change that. Who is imprisoning you? The police, or... or someone else?"
<Brian> "The police for the moment," he says, eyeing you warily. "How would you hope to change that?"
<Huitzil> "I don't know. I'll think of something. If this is what I think it is, then I will have to.
<Huitzil> "
<Huitzil> "I have a lot of questions for you, but I don't know how long I have to ask them. So I'll ask the most important one first. Where did -- do you live, and when was the last time it rained there?"
<Brian> "I lived in Tokyo," he says slowly. "It rained the night my sister was brutalized, even though we expected snow. Two weeks ago, perhaps."
<Huitzil> "What day of the week?"
<Brian> He frowns in thought. "It was," he says slowly, "the ... eighth of January, I think. A Monday."
Huitzil nods.
<Huitzil> "Okay. Now, the men who were with you, on the plane -- did you work for them, or did they and you both work for someone else?"
<Brian> "We had ... formed an alliance of convenience. They wished to take over a plane for their work. I wished to revenge myself upon ... that one."
<Brian> He frowns. "I was told by them that they would harm no one, but instead take them to a safe holding location."
<Huitzil> "So, you don't know what they were trying to do? Who they worked for?"
<Brian> "They did not say, and I did not ask," he says, shaking his head. "They smelled of tobacco, and crime. I imagined I knew what I would need to from that alone." He shakes his head. "I mistook them for amateurs of the wrong sort."
<Huitzil> "I think anyone would have done the same. Okay, the prison where you are held now -- I assume you don't know where it is, but how closely do they watch you, and with how many people?"
<Brian> "I'm still in the hospital, near one of your friends, to judge by the comments from the nurses," he says quietly. "But my French is not much better than my English. I could be wrong."
<Huitzil> "Okay. I don't know anything about French law, or Japanese or international, but goddamnit we have to try. If you can, I want you to ask to talk to the Japanese embassy. If that doesn't work, speak to the press. Send a letter or something. Just make sure that SOMEBODY knows where you are, the government or someone else. If they try to move you, refuse. Do not let them move you, okay?
<Brian> "I will try," he says skeptically. "But I have little hope for life."
<Huitzil> "If people know you're there, then it's harder for you to be shadowed off in the night. Don't take any pills the nurses give you, even painkillers. See if you can disconnect your IV when they aren't looking. Even if it hurts, you have to try, all right? You don't want them to do anything to you when you're drugged.
<Brian> He shrugs. "I will try," he repeats.
<Huitzil> "Don't give up. Not yet. Just stay where you are, try to stay there as much as you can. I don't think they will move you off to prison if you're still wounded. So, as hard as it might get, stay wounded. Stay that way until we can figure a way to get you out. Or at least, make it so you're safe.."
<Brian> He blinks. "You intend to help me?" he asks skeptically.
<Huitzil> "I intend to try. Just... just hang in there, and I'm going to try as hard as I can."
<Brian> He nods.
<Brian> "Then I will hope," he affirms.
<Huitzil> "One last thing... don't trust anyone who talks to you in there. I don't know what all the forces at work here are, but I know almost all of them are bad. Don't go with anyone or tell them anything unless... unless they say the password."
<Brian> "Password?"
<Huitzil> "The password is... is... Elbereth!"
<Brian> He looks confused, but nods. "I understand, then."
Huitzil exclaims the last word as if it had come to him from the lips of the muse herself, unexpected by him.
<Huitzil> "Okay. I don't know what I can do, but I do know that I'm going to do all of it."
<Huitzil> "Now, I think it's time for me to go. I don't know if I can... er, 'meet' you again like this... but if I need to communicate with you I'll find a way."
Huitzil walks downstairs.
<Brian> The dream is indistinct and unsubstantial here, as though BCK hadn't built more than the room, and the view.
Huitzil walks to what looks the most like a front door, and attempts to walk out into wakefulness.
<Brian> Everything goes white ... and you feel like you're about to wake up, and then, like someone grabbed you by the scruff of your neck, and then pulled you back into a dream. This place is different, a round stone room with no visible source of light, and two hugely tall men in golden armor.
<Huitzil> "...shit."
<Brian> Their armor is piece-meal, and looks pretty cool, but even to your eyes, not practical. These men and their gear look like it was built for show. One of them has straight blonde hair, the other has very slightly darker curly hair. The straight-haired one is wearing a pair of what look like iron gloves, and the other is hefting a pretty cruel looking stone hammer.
Huitzil takes a few steps back.
<Brian> It looks like it'd weigh too much to be wielded effectively, though. "That's about right," the straight-haired one says.
<Brian> "Somehow, you don't look quite like the interloper we're looking for," he says, squinting at you, and propping the hammer up on one shoulder.
<Huitzil> "Er, yeah, so I think I oughta just be leaving..."
<Brian> "Not quite just yet," the straight-haired one says, crossing his arms over his chest. "Few enough people can actually enter the dreams of others these days ... who are you, and what are you trying to do here?"
<Huitzil> "I'm just some guy. I don't know what I was doing here, but now I am trying to be not here."
<Brian> "Of course," hammer-guy says. "We're not going to hurt you. Just tell us what you DO know of this place. And choose a form for your tool already."
<Huitzil> "...Tool?"
<Brian> When you look, you see that you're holding the shifting, wavering, uncertain ... thing ... that you had before in your left hand.
Huitzil looks back up. "I don't know anything about this place, really. Someone was chasing me through a hallway, then I was playing chess, then I was talking to someone..."
<Huitzil> "I didn't even know it was one 'place' until you asked me that."
<Brian> "Okay," the straight-haired guy says, frowning. "Relax for a minute. Once we find out where you got that tool, we'll send you home, and you won't even remember that this happens. Just like every other time you've done this."
<Brian> The curly-haired guy shrugs. "If not you, then thousands of people just like you. This is normal, so take it easy. Imagine that what you're holding is going to turn into something simple, the basic form from which its potential arises. Right?"
<Huitzil> "No, no, I think some things have happened that I'd like to remember. If it's any consolation, I'll forget it soon anyway without your interference."
<Brian> The two exchange a glance. "There are rules that we have to follow," they say in unison, before exchanging a glance. After that, the straight-haired guy continues, "We're not letting you go until we found out who gave you a key to get into this place."
<Huitzil> "If anyone did give me a key, I certainly don't know it."
Huitzil attempts to wake up by willing himself to be so. Oh, please, work.
<Brian> Please make an opposed ego roll, rolling 1d6 for each five points of ego you have.
<Brian> (Higher is better.)
<Huitzil> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Huitzil ... : 3d6 --> [ 3d6=8 ]{8}
<Brian> roll 4d6+2d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 4d6+2d6 --> [ 4d6=10 2d6=7 ]{17}
<Brian> The curly-haired guy grunts a bit, and eyes you closely. "That's not relaxing," he says.
<Huitzil> "It shouldn't be. Mysterious men wielding large weapons saying they'll make me forget things that I quite need to remember tend to have that effect."
<Brian> "Fair enough," the curly haired one says. "But, we've got jobs to do."
<Brian> "So ... just stand there for a bit, and we'll figure out what's going on."
<Brian> The two look like they're concentrating.
<Brian> roll 4d6+2d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 4d6+2d6 --> [ 4d6=13 2d6=7 ]{20}
<Brian> The ... something ... in your left hand seems to melt, curling into the bracelet, which you'd forgotten you had, and now is once-more adorning your left wrist.
<Huitzil> "As do I. I don't know what your task is, but mine is-- hey!"
<Brian> They stare blankly.
<Brian> "Oh," the straight-haired one says. "Um, well. Since that's originally from the dream, you can be here, and remember it."
<Brian> The curly-haired one nods, as your bracelet re-melts, and turns into ... something ... again. "You're officially sanctioned."
<Huitzil> "I'm... what?"
<Brian> "You can remember it all," the straight-haired one clarifies. "This was a misunderstanding. As long as you wear that, the Brothers of Morpheus consider you an ally." Both of them nod, then make a fist with their right hands and knock against their armor twice. Then, they vanish, and you wake up.
Huitzil blindly slaps for the table/desk by the bed, and pulls out a notepad and one of those stubby golf pencils.
Huitzil writes down, as quickly as he can, "Rain, Tokyo on Monday Jan 8?"
Huitzil puts, under that: "Elbereth". Thinking for a second, he underlines it six times.
It's now morning. About 7:30 AM by your bedside clock.
The phone rings through, and apparently they have caller ID. "How may I help you, embassy guest?" And then, "Oh, you're a friend of Steven's? One moment, I'll transfer you right to him, if he's awake," followed by a few minutes of hold music (Bethoven, strings only), and then, groggily, Parthipan says, "Hello?" He sounds healthier, at least.
Ginrai, you are currently at 6 of 8 body.
Your bullet wounds are a pair of large bruises with tiny scabbed over bullet wounds in the center. They actually had to make incisions across both wounds to get forceps in to pull out the bullets. At least, you're under the impression they did that, anyway, since there's tiny incision marks, and a nurse carefully removed the stitches holding them together last night, marveling that you healed remarkably, and should be on your feet by today.
One of the doctors cleaned both of the bullets, got all the traces of contamination (they're not sure how, exactly, but the bullets are scored as if they passed through a thick wire screen to reach you) and hair (you must have had dog-fur or something on your clothing when you were shot). You have, on your bedside stand, in a small glass beaker, two bullets that were previously inside of you.
They're a bit small, considering how much the bloody things hurt.
Regardless, you've only just woken up when a nurse comes in with a phone, and cheerfully tells you, "It's your friend!" You take the phone, still waking up (it's always been hard for you, and being shot seems to make you even sleepier), and say, "Hello?"
"Hey Gin, you still alive?"
Dracos
Paul's eyes open and he moans lowly. He resituates himself as if to go back to sleep, then snaps upright, then rolls out of bed, taking the covers and blanket with him to the floor. Grunting angrily, he swats his way out of the entangling cloth, then stands up, muttering something. He walks into the bathroom, and you hear water running.
Prodding the area around his newly healed wounds, Ginrai nods slowly, before realizing that Philip cannot see the gesture. Verbally (though his voice is a bit rough and dry), he replies, "Yeah ... well, I'm feeling about as good as a guy can after being shot twice. How about you?"
"Groovy man. Up to keeping moving to Gibraltar? We only have so much vacation time and you know the bosses aren't going to give us any more."
Dracos
Ginrai looks around the room, wiggling his toes experimentally, and considering the step from sitting up in bed to actually walking around. "I can give walking a shot," he says dubiously. "I lost a lot of blood, you know."
The nurse takes the phone away for a moment, while Ginrai (under supervision) attempts to take a few steps. He is able to walk, but not very far before he needs to catch his breath. After returning to the bed, he says, "I think I'll be okay. Maybe a few more hours. They say I have to walk around the entire ward three times, and take only oral pain medication before I can be released."
"Cool. Guess then I'll bring by some steak sandwiches and pick you up 'round lunchtime. Then we can keep traveling. Keep your eye on Gibraltar man. Should be beautiful this time of year, no?"
Dracos
Paul sticks his head out of the bathroom, his hair matted and wet. "Hey, dingus! You told him we're going to be staying here for a couple of weeks, right?"
"Steak sandwiches," Ginrai replies with a certain lack of enthusiasm. "You know, there's no cow in any of the hospital food I've been eating so far. Just thought I'd, you know, point that out for you."
Dracos' smirk could be heard almost through the phone, "Oh, then you'll abso-lutely love the meal. See you later man." Dracos closed the phone connection and turned it off, "Of course I did, nutfucker."
Dracos went and used the shower to clean off. Presuming Huitz doesn't get in the way, he contacts the airport folks to get an evening ticket out for the three of them. Following that he sees about getting two steak sandwiches and a chicken sandwich, as well as transportation to the hospital and then the airport, all timed appropriately according to the planned schedule.
Dracos
"Whatever you say, cockdoctor. Hey, do you know anywhere around here where I can use the Inter-web real quick? I wanna check the Shelob's lair previews."
As he says this, he picks up the first note he wrote, with 'Rain, Tokyo on Monday Jan 8?' on it, from a messy and disorganized heap of notepapers with his pencil-scrawl on them.
"Dunno, check with the embassy staff."
Dracos gestured idly, ~Once you are done packing of course.~
Dracos
Paul nods and starts packing up, throwing his clothes haphazardly into the suitcase. As he does so, he checks out the clothes Bjorn got him for a really, really ugly shirt, on the chance that Bjorn picked one up at Goodwill as sort of a "fuck you" for making him go clothes shopping for him.
Assuming differences in taste, it was in the bargain bin, he really was pissed at you making him do your shopping, or they hid it in the bag to get rid of it, you do in fact, find the loudest, ugliest, most horrid short imaginable.
It's a button-up, pseduo silk material that LOOKS cheap even beyond the snot-green and vomit-yellow splotches that someone, somewhere, probably claims is designer.
You think it looks like someone trained a monkey to throw bad colors at a canvas, and then made it into a shirt.
Upon closer inspection, you're glad no one personally looked through every part of your baggage when you boarded the flight, because this shirt might actually violate customs.
Paul smiles and walks into the bathroom with the shirt and an armful of other clothes. After a quick shower (quick meaning only 20 minutes), he puts on the Ugly Shirt, then puts on a button-up flannel shirt over it. He then walks out of the bathroom and, assuming no interference from Phil, walks down to the first floor to ask about Interweb-services.
One of the desk women says that they do have a specific internet workshop on the third floor, with a few PCs for "Checking your e-mail, and such. No naughty stuff, now."
The PC internet library is aging, hosting about five working iMacs, all of which are running the Macintosh version of Internet Explorer, and which have CNN.com set as the home-page.
Paul hops on the closest one and does exactly what he said, checking the Shelob's Lair previews. (Hey, you gotta take opportunities when you can get 'em) In another window, however, he has Yahoo! Weather open, and after clicking around for forecasts in various parts of France (in case it's being monitored, you see, that way the cover story is more believable), he starts checking past weather reports. Specifically, the weather report for Tokyo, on Monday, January 8th.
Tokyo had a rainy morning that day.
Also, the Bears are looking like they might take the superbowl.
Paul's features become stone-grim. He continues to move and click the mouse, as he had planned to do just to really, really throw off anyone monitoring his computer usage, but he isn't clicking anything -- even though his eyes are open, he doesn't even see the screen. All he sees is a girl in a hospital bed, her brother knelt by her side, rose petals falling outside the window.
He stands up, eyes looking ten thousand miles away. As he walks by the woman who directed him to the terminals, he mutters a "thank you" and keeps walking. He walks, taking the stairs instead of the elevator, all the way back to his room, where he opens the door and wordlessly flops onto the bed.
It was real. Dear God. It was real. There's a man in the hospital whose life I have to save. And the only thing I know of my plan is, I have a really ugly shirt.
"Yo, get up. Fooding time. I'm headed out for some real grub." Dracos picked up his bag and gesturing for Huitzil to follow. Dracos headed out, first finding a place in the embassy that would exchange some cash, and then getting in the cab and asking to be taken first to a local sandwich joint and then to the hospital.
Dracos
Your plan has a sizable flaw in it, that being your assumption you can make it past the reporters that are loitering before the embassy, just waiting for you to walk out. They snap a lot of pictures of you on your way to the gate (much to the annoyance of the guards), but don't look like they plan on moving any time soon.
There's probably about eight guys, five of them with cameras (bright flashes, too), one of them a video camera, and the rest with microphones or notepads, and they're all clamoring for your attention.
Dracos heads back quickly. "They are still out there? Bloody heck, can't even go get a sandwich."
Dracos checks with the embassy to see if they can get the two of them out of there, to the sandwich place and then to go see ginrai.
Dracos
The embassy doesn't know about the sandwich place ... but you can be given a ride to the hospital in an embassy vehicle without much trouble. All three embassy vehicles are matching black limos with tinted windows.
Dracos nods, thanking them and asking if they could get one around eleven fourty.
After which he heads over to get some breakfast at their cafeteria.
Dracos
Mmm. Breakfast. ENGLISH breakfast.
Could be worse.
You're sheduled for a lift to the hospital just before noon, though.
Dracos enjoys a very slow meal. Slow as in hours long meal. Delayed enough so that he and huitz can leave if huitz doesn't want to say anything.
Dracos
Paul comes down to the continental breakfast, harried and distressed-looking, and sits at Phil's table. He takes a few halfhearted bites of an "English" muffin, then whispers to Phil, as low as he can, barely loud enough to hear himself.
"Turn on the brain-phone. We need to talk."
~Moshi, Moshi.~ Dracos sat, calmly eating his meal.
Dracos
<I had a dream. One of the dreams that mean everything. And I wasn't the only one in it. There was the kid, from the plane. The Japanese kid that got shot. He was THERE. I don't mean that a dream version of him was. I mean, me and him, were in the same dream. I checked it out. I talked to him.>
<And he needs our help. And I'm going to give it to him.>
<He -- wait, stop, let me start at the beginning. I don't want to miss something.>
Paul stirs his rapidly-cooling scrambled eggs.
<He wasn't there to begin with. I was walking down a hallway that never ended, with locked doors at each side. I had something in myhand, but I didn't kjnow what it was. Then, someone was chasing me. I didn't recognize him, but based on everything else, we might meethim in the future. He wore all black, and I knew that I could not let him catch me. So I stopped, and the "thing" in my hand became a keychain with keys labeled... I can't remember, strange things, like "Friends" and "Adventure" or something. I unlocked a door, and went in.>
Paul gets a forkful of eggs, but only gets it halfway to his mouth before placing it back on the plate.
<Then I was at a game table, playing against a fat kid. It was the same fat kid from the dream I had earlier, back in California. Only this time it wasn't cards -- it was chess. The board has thousands of squares and hundreds and hundreds of pieces. There were pieces for you, and me, and Bjorn, and Nate, and Parthipan, and many others I couldn't recognize. There were lots of colors, too. I had four pieces captured off the board. The other guy had too many to count. The Japanese kid had a piece. His was red, and it was right next to ours. And I think... I think I could move him. I think he was one of our pieces. I think he was on our side.>
He puts his elbows on the table and then holds his head between his wrists, very slightly rocking back and forth.
<Then I was in his house. His house. In Tokyo. Rose petals were falling like rain. He was there. So was his sister. And she was hurt. He told me her legs had been broken. She would never walk. And I think -- I think it was Shade that did it. It was why he was looking for him on the plane.>
<He told me other things, too. That the other guys on the plane lied to him. That he didn't want to let himself be caught... or maybe it was let "people like him" be caught. Or like us. Hazy. He also said he was ready to die. He told me that he was in the same hospital as Parthipan. And he told me that the last time it rained in Tokyo was on the eighth. I looked it up, and he was right. I didn't know that. It couldn't have come from my own mind.>
Paul looks up and makes eye contact for the first time, and his lips very slightly mouth the words he "speaks" in his mind.
<It came from him. He came to me in a dream, and he needs my help, and we need his help. He is laying in a hospital bed, watched by the police and by agents of the Cabal. And soon, the Cabal is going to take him. They'llwheelhim out in his hospital bed in the middle of the night, trailing in IV stand, and they're going to TAKE him. They're going to put him in a hole, some dank rat-cellar entombed in concrete. And Bjorn won't be able to save him.>
<But we -- we ARE here to save him! And save him is what we are going to do. What we HAVE to do.>
~Huitz, I don't know what you are smoking, but I tend to make it a general policy not to go out of my way to try and help people that had a gun to my face within the last week. It sort of helps with the whole not getting yourself shot in the back routine. You can mentally shout as loud as you bloody want but that's not convincing me of anything excepting that you lost it.~
Dracos idly drained another bottle of water, tapping his fingers together ponderously, "Hum, wonder how the stock market is doing. I just realized I haven't checked it in a while."
~Even assuming, for hypothetical sake, I went along with this madness, what would we do? We're flying out by plane in under twenty four hours. If we pick him up, we not only can't do that but we have media already on our arse with our pictures, we'd have police after us for breaking out a known terrorist, and a heck of a lot of land to foot past. I just don't see that happening. And what would this bet be on? That he follows some mythical samurai code of honor and will naturally be indebted to help us in our war and such? In the best case scenario that we get him out, we get one untrustworthy add on who's a damn poor judge of character. This isn't flicking a winner point here.~
Dracos
<I -- I don't know what we'll do with him! I wish I did. I wish I had the answers -- but I don't have the answers, I just got statements. And one of them is that we have to help him. I was thinking that we could just get him out of the hospital and surveillance, before we left. Not take him with us. Just get him out, and let him escape on his own.>
~Right, and you are interpreting the dream to give you that statement. Here's another. The guy is a neutral hostile force. He could be swung to our side if we rescue him. He could also shoot us in the head. We don't have to do anything. I'm no good samaritian. I have statements too. Without a plan, we aren't trying anything. Hospitals have security cameras which would record us if we did such things. This would not engraciate us to those who we're still dependant on to help us get out of this country. Nor would attaching a criminal record to these IDs help us get out of here either. And again, I don't like going to rescue someone who had a gun to my head. Call me a bitch but I'm a live bitch.~
Dracos
<You don't have to help me if you don't want to. You just have to not stop me. That way, if I fuckup, you can still go to Gibraltar without me.>
<I'm sorry, but this is something I have to do.>
~Right. That's just fucking brilliant. Why don't you vanish and I take Gin and I can meet Rez and Bjorn and we can skip along into the sunset... Are you a bloody retard or did you just wake up stupid today? We need all five of us there or whatever the hell is going to happen is not going to happen. So what happens if you fuck up? We have to break your ass out. And that's assuming you are alive. Stop being so damn selfish. You forgetting we have a mission to accomplish here? You fuck up and we all are screwed. Unless you have a plan, forget that damn guy and concentrate on surviving yourself.~
Dracos
<I can't forget about it. We split up because we knew there was a possibility some of us might get encountered, and then caught or killed. It wouldn't be any different than if Nate and Bjorn get caught before leaving the States. They had to gather our allies, and I have to do this. There's no help for it. I... I just have to.>
"Not interested in stocks man?" Dracos shrugged. "Guess they can be pretty ugly." Dracos leaned back, idly thumbing above his nose in a rather habitual action.
~This is the Drac news report, bringing you live insights straight from the: We don't want to die network! This just in: I can read minds. This also just in: So can they! News Flash! They capture you, they brain drain you, then what is possibly suspicion to them becomes cold hard fact. They know who we are, what we represent, exactly where we are headed, and our current plans on how to achieve it. Hup, what's that? An update Mr. Brain? Ah yes, acting like a fucking martyr and going off on a solo mission is retarded. Especially when you don't even have a bloody plan.~
Dracos
An attendant approaches and offers to refresh your coffee before vanishing.
Given that Dracos is drinking water, he thanks the attendant, and continues yammering with Huitzil slowly.
Dracos
<And if we go to Gibraltar now, and they capture us all anyway? What's to stop them from brain-draining us then? Anything we do, we have a possibility of getting fucked on. If I help this man, we could get fucked. If we go to Gibraltar right now, we could get fucked ANYWAY! They probably have a trap for us set up NOW, which was why I wanted to take the bus and pretend we were here for a while longer. If we take the plane out today, I bet we won't even make it out of the airport before they get us. We should take a while. I could get a lay of the land and figure out what I'm going to do.>
<But even if we HAVE to leave today, I have to do this. No matter how many times you tell me it's stupid or suicidal, you can't change my mind.>
~Since when did you become a prognosticator? Did you forget, we have a fucking seer around? And other resources other than just ourselves? Contact Rez and look for another way. Stop being fucking retarded about this. You have no plan. Without it, all you are going to do is get caught. It's wasted effort. We have to leave today because you left the GOD DAMNED PHONE on yesterday and left a nice little marker of where we were.~
Dracos
<Our faces were on CNN! They KNOW that we're here. They were probably the ones that wanted the plane crashed in the first place! As long as we stay in the embassy, they can't get at us. There's too much security, too much scrutiny. And if we leave the security of the embassy, we have to fake them out. If we go straight to Gibraltar, they are going to catch us. You don't need to be a psychic to know that. If we leave a trail here, as if we were still hanging around, and arrive directly in Gibraltar in a few days, then they might not be expecting us.>
~You are right on one point, I screwed up going out there. They know we are here. But that's not a reason to stay. Leaving a trail here can be done without us being here. They can't just disappear us as soon as we land at Gibraltar. There'd be way too much media attention. I'd rather be in Gibraltar where at least we're close to our goal then hiding out here where they know we definitely are and waiting for them to get a clean shot to take.~
Dracos breathed out, pondering.
~If you have a plan, share it. I think we should go, but that's because I don't believe here is that safe and it's not near our goal.~
Dracos
<I can't have a plan until I get to the hospital. I need to know how it's laid out, who all is there, what goes on there, and all that. Let's go there just like you planned, visit our friend in the hospital, and give me time to think of something.>
~Hmm... First, contact the other group. Pass the info along. Check our own resources here. Deal?~
Dracos
<Sounds right to me.>
Dracos nodded and idly commented, "You really should finish off your eggs."
With his left hand he reached down, retrieved the phone from the bag and began to type as best he could while keeping it in his lap.
Rez, important, what resources does Relm have to help us out in france? Can she get some fake trails made for us here?
Dracos
Paul nods back and starts nibbling on his now-ice cold eggs.
Dracos offs the phone when he finishes and checks the time. If it's late enough, he goes and asks the embassy to guide them to the car and thanks them for providing a safe route to the hospital.
Dracos
You're quickly moved to the hospital. The media is either under instruction not to chase embassy limos, or doesn't get the idea that you're inside one.
Either way, you shortly find your way to Ginrai's room, passing a series of rooms with grim-faced police officers guarding the doors. The terrorists, you'd guess, though there isn't a handy English (or French, actually) sign saying as much.
Ginrai looks pretty well, and has passed two of the three required release conditions. As you arrive, two nurses remove him from the morphine drip, and explain that he has to prove he's capable of coping with the pain using only oral medication for twenty four hours before he can be released.
Dracos nods to the nurses smiling in thanks back at them before turning to Ginrai.
"Hey Steven. Looking good for the dead."
Dracos looks for a seat nearby. If there isn't one, he just stands.
Dracos
'Out of all names, why Steven?'
Ginrai turns to Dracos. "Yeah, I'm doing better than I thought. Got lucky, I guess. So what have you guys been up to the past couple of days?"
"Oh nothing much, Rest, relaxation, partying in the Embassy."
~Idly finding out that they know we are here and we have to leave as soon as you are ready to go.~
Dracos
"Having fun? For that matter, get anything good to eat while there?"
~What the... ah, fuck! So I take it we're going to have to leave tonight or tomorrow after I've passed the final check? What're you guys planning to do after we leave?~
"Yep. All your favorites."
~Plan is to escape and then vanish into Gibraltar as best we can. Huitz though wants to try and rescue that nutcase jap kid for some reason, but that's not important right now. What's important is that you get up and moving as soon as possible~
Dracos
Wehn Paul walked in, he wasn't paying any attention to what Phil was saying, if he was saying anything at all -- he was drinking in as many details of the hospital as he could. Even when he gets to his friend's hospital room, he only gives him a distracted "hey" nod, as he tries to check out everything there.
What is the general mood there -- is it under control, or is it a panicked "ER" type place? Is only French spoken, or does he hear other languages as he walks by? How often does the PA come on calling Dr. Soandso to the suchandsuch?
What is the construction like? Is it a new tower of steel and glass, or is it an older building of brick and mortar?
The grim-faced guards at the doors -- what are they wearing, how many of them per door, do they have sunglasses, were any of them doing anything other than standing there looking grim?
The room where Parthipan is -- does it have a window, and if it does, where does it face? An alley, the front, the back, a fire escape, what? What floor is it on, and where is the elevator and/or stairs?
And in the room, what is there? A bevy of medical mechanica, an IV tube and a bedpan, something in between? Where is the call button? Where is the toilet, if there is one? Is there a nurse there now, or waiting outside? Is it justa door to get in, or is there a "observation area" separated off by a glass wall? If not, are there any other ways of seeing into the room?
The mood is quiet, since you're not in the hospital proper (as far as you can tell); You're in the recovery ward, which is the third floor of the east wing. The only language you hear spoken is French, except for the conversation of your friends. The PA is either muted, or just doesn't run through this section of the hospital.
The building looks like it was designed within the last ten years at most. From the outside, the building is composed of plaster and glass. It's probably got wire-mesh inside the walls to help hold the insulation in, though. Inside, it's just thick sections of waxed industrial office wallpaper, and who knows what's beneath those? The floor is linoleum, or some space-age French equivelant that happens to LOOK like normal, mortal linoleum, and the ceiling is the same hanging segments of tile you've come to expect from offices.
There is one guard per door, and when not looking grim, they tended to look like very tired police officers. They didn't speak to eachother, each had a gun visibly holstered to one leg, and both hands clasped behind their backs.
Parthipan's room does have a window, but the building also arcs around, so it looks into a section of the hospital that's completely enclosed by its own design, and is then covered with a giant metal grill anyway. You can see through it, and the grill on the other side of the complex has some form of mural on it only visible from here (it's impressionist, so no telling what it means other than, "People will pay for anything. Idiots," though. The grill looks like it could be climbed, if you could get into the hospital courtyard, and there are openings big enough for someone to squirm through. Additionally, there's a balcony, at least on this floor, and this wing, that's accesible from the room you're in. The window is sliding glass, and just slides open.
There's an empty IV stand that Parthipan has just been disconnected, and a heart-monitor (turned off), as well as two or three other pieces of medical machinery that you don't recognize, but could be hidden among the control panels of a NASA launch facility, and would probably fool you. The call button is mounted on the bed-rail (right next to the remote for the television, oddly). The bathroom is small, but functional, just a little booth in one corner of the room, next to the entrance. You see nurses walking around outside quickly, but none waiting on this room (once they finish disconnecting his IV, and take the drip off elsewhere, at least). There is no other way to see into the room that you are aware of, though for all you know, they could have cameras hidden inside the air ducts.
Your final observation is that you really need to push yourself to absorb this. How DID Monk do it so easily?
Surreptitiously, Paul rolls up his left shirtsleeve at the cuff, so they're now even. He then goes out to the window and looks out, muttering to himself, to see which people or what area can see this window.
As far as you can tell (and judging by the opposite side of the courtyard) no one can see in through the grill. Of course, it's across the balcony, not the actual window, so reasonably, there could be S.W.A.T. armored terrorists by the dozen on the opposite side of the compound.
Or nurses sneaking a cigarette break.
Or maybe nothing at all. Either way, you see that the balcony circles all the way around the courtyard, and it looks like another one circles each floor. There's a wide, clear, 'emergency only' fire-escape stairwell in each corner, and they're about one hundred meters apart. The nearest one is thirty meters to your right.
~I see. Are you okay with waiting until I'm fully recovered?~
Ginrai notices Paul quietly checking out the room. ~You said that Paul wants to try and rescue the kid that started this? From the way he's currently acting it looks as if that's still top priority for him.~
~By fully recovered you mean able to stand up, walk to the plane, and run short distances if necessary, yes. Anything more, no. So better heal fast or suck it up. As soon as you can pass physical to get out of here I want to be leaving.~
Dracos glanced over at Huitz, ~I dunno. He got a crazy vision. I think it's suicide and unless he convinces me differently I'm definitely leading the way out of here. It looks more suicidal now seeing the place.~
"So been doing anything here other than being unconscious?"
Dracos
"So, Swarthington, you feeling any better?"
Heedless of Parthy's response, Huitzil looks at Drac then taps his temple, in what he hopes is the signal for "Brain-phone on line 1".
Dracos leans back, giving parthipan some time to respond as he changes bases, listening to huitz.
Dracos
"Nothing much. Just waiting for the time when I can be cleared to leave and get some real food to eat."
"Ready to head to Gibraltar? Or want to hang around here a few more days after you get ready? Tour the city, see the sites and all?"
Dracos
After scouting the area, and trading mental notes concerning Paul's observations, Philip comes to the conclusion that springing the Box-Cutter Kid would be a cake-walk.
This is largely because the balcony is entirely unguarded, and you can't see into the balcony from anywhere except the actual balcony you're on. The Box-Cutter Kid and the other terrorists are all held in interior-side rooms, which all (as far as you have seen) have sliding glass doors to the balcony.
Unless there's a guard in the room (which seems unlikely, but would be easy to non-chalantly check), all you'd need to do would be sneak in, make sure he wasn't cuffed to his bed, and walk him to the fire-escape. From there, ditch his current clothes for someone else's spare clothes, and walk to freedom.
"Hey Steven, let's step outside for a bit if you can. This place has got to be getting to you, no?"
Dracos idly opens the door and steps out onto the balcony, glancing into a few nearby doors surepticiously as he checked the place out. Notably looking for alarms, whether or not the people inside are restrained or not, are there guards inside, and hell, if he recalls any convienently located fire alarms near the entrance of the hospital.
Dracos
<I don't know, Phil. It seems too easy. If we just let him out of the fire escape, he'll probably get caught before he gets off the hospital grounds. There HAVE to be more guards than just those at the doors.>
You see that the blinds are partially opened. From what you can see, the room adjacent to Parthipan's is empty. Which stands to reason, as there was no guard in front of it. The next room over has one of the terrorists, and there is a guard in a chair by the door to the hallway, though he doesn't look up at you, instead browsing a magazine.
The terrorist is cuffed to the footrail of his bed by his ankle.
He looks like a guard is unnecessary, though, as he's on an awful lot of life-support.
Next room over is the Box-Cutter Kid, who's on a morphine drip (or maybe antibiotics, or maybe it's just decoration, none of you actually know) and is cuffed to the footrail of his own bed. The guard inside his room is actually vanishing into the bathroom as you peek in, while BCK is staring at the cieling moodily.
After conferring with the Drac, Huitzil speaks up again.
<Okay. I have a plan. But we're going to need to get a pair of cuffs off of one of those guards to do it.>
<If we just go down the fire escape, they'll catch him, because they're probably expecting it. Let's take advantage of that. What we do, is we get one of those pairs of cuffs. We slap it on Dr. Swarthy's bed here and leave the other end open. Then, the next time the guard either leaves the room or goes to take a piss, we go in via the balcony to barricade or lock both of the doors. Then, we wheel the beds out on the balcony and swap them. This bed ends up in his room, with an opened handcuff hanging off of it. We leave the balcony door open in his room. Meanwhile, his bed is in here. We swing him under it, where the bedpan goes and drape the blankets over it so as to cover him up, and cover up the cuff on the bed-rail. Then we put Parthipan back on the bed like it was his all along.>
<Switching the beds probably will take one or two minutes, which is abotu all we'll get before someone breaks down one of the doors. We won't have the time to get him out of the cuffs. But if we let them think that he's ALREADY out of them, and have themlooking on the ground, and outside of the hospital... we can wait for a while, wheel this bed out somewhere to "take him for some tests", then get in some janitorial closet somewhere where we can take our sweet time getting him free.>
~Um, no. I think not. Patience.~
Dracos idly glanced about for security cameras, looking in the usual places for them.
Dracos
There are no cameras you can see.
But there is a security guard, even if he's in the bathroom for the moment.
Dracos glances down the fire escape.
Dracos
From where you are, you can see it, and you can see the signs that say it's an emergency exit. However, the entire thing is still surrounded by the grills that are concealing you from being seen by outsiders, so seeing 'down' it is difficult without getting closer.
Getting closer reveals that it's concrete, has wide, shallow steps, and there is an elevator inside the square-shaped stairwell. There is no obvious bar or barrier to break through and set off an alarm. It looks like you could actually walk all the way to the ground from here.
In addition, it feels to Philip like someone else just popped into his head. This mind seems familiar....
~Just as an idle guess, you probably want to do the decency of announcing yourself first, instead of convincing me a plane trip out of here is the nicest action.~
Dracos idly glanced over the balcony, looking out at whatever scenary is out there.
Dracos
I didn't actually expect this to work, Bjorn writes. Give me a break, I've been doing this for all of two minutes or so.
~Well, that wasn't who I thought... Sorry, Bjorn. So...when did you learn intercontinental brain scanning?~
Dracos
I just told you, two minutes ago. It's not actually full telepathy, though. I can't read your thoughts. If I try, I can see out your eyes, but other than that, all I can do is talk to you. I'm a little surprised at my range, though.
The Workshop refugees are with us. Nathan's busy right now setting up their Oracular contact, and then we'll need to move on to the next step. What's your status?
~ We're currently in the hospital. Gin got hurt on the terrorist stunt, and hasn't recovered yet. We're trying to get out of here as quickly as possible as Huitz left the phone on after sending a message to you guys and they traced it at least somewhat to this area. Any chance you can check with the oracle and see if she can leave a fake trail of us staying here? Anyhow, on top of that, Huitzil had a dream of the japanese meta who'd been helping the terrorists out and is gung ho about rescuing the little fuck. I'm currently trying to keep an open mind to this insanity.~
Dracos
You made international news after foiling a Cabal terrorist activity. They knew where you were before Paul left the cellphone on. I wouldn't suggest rushing anywhere without a plan -- right now, you have the safety of the fact that everyone's eyes are on you.
I'll check with Nathan, but don't hold your breath. The Oracle seems to be pretty limited in terms of what she can accomplish. Besides, a fake trail of "you staying there" isn't going to do much good when everyone knows your face, and knows you aren't around anymore.
As for the Japanese guy... well, this whole deal is about dreams, it seems to me. Tell me as much as you can, and I'll find out what the Oracle thinks.
~As far as I know, until this morning they didn't have any fair amount of confirmation that we were here. Now they certainly do. Regardless, the situation of having everyone's eyes on us is the same when we land in Gibraltar. If we suddenly vanished there, it would have just as many problems. But this would become less as time proceeds while there would a greater probability of them getting just a clean and patient trap setup in preparation for us.~
~As far as the Japanese guy goes, Huitz had a dream that he was running through a hallway with doors along side of it. He took a weird key and opened a door and found himself facing a rival of his with a huge chessboard. He saw a lot of pieces of different colors, and decided to move one of the red ones that looked like the japanese kid. He then found himself talking with the kid and agreed to save him for some reason. That's about what I got of it.~
Dracos
Remember that Gibraltar is specifically dangerous. We decided to split up on the basis that the Cabal wouldn't know we were coming. The fact that they caught you on a plane to Gibraltar is proof positive that we're wrong on that count. If they have a trap set up anywhere already, it'll be in Gibraltar. Nathan and I won't be far behind. It might be best to wait until we can all head into the lion's den together.
Anyways, I'll check with the Oracle about Paul's dream. What's the good of having a spirit guide if we don't use it, right?
~Thanks. How about this, we're going to definitely be hanging low the rest of the day, so contact me like this sometime this evening. We'll work it out then. I'd have contacted Relm myself, but I didn't want it traced by any chance. Also check with what she sees about gibraltar and here, okay?~
Dracos
Will do.
With that, Bjorn pulls the mindboard back away from Dracos, letting his touch blur back into a smudge, before reaching the board out towards the Paul-smudge.
Paul? It's Bjorn, he writes, his handwriting crisp. Drac said that you had a dream. Mind telling me about it, so I can get the Oracle's opinion?
<Huh what? Bjorn? How'd you get here?>
Paul shakes his head. <Er, my dream, right. Well, I'll tell you what I told Phil. I was walking down a hallway that never ended, with locked doors at each side. I had something in my hand, but I didn't know what it was. Then, someone was chasing me. I didn't recognize him, but based on everything else, we might meethim in the future. He wore all black, and I knew that I could not let him catch me. So I stopped, and the "thing" in my hand became a keychain with keys labeled... I can't remember, strange things, like "Friends" and "Adventure" or something. I unlocked a door, and went in.>
<Then I was at a game table, playing against a fat kid. It was the same fat kid from the dream I had earlier, back in California. Only this time it wasn't cards -- it was chess. The board has thousands of squares and hundreds and hundreds of pieces. There were pieces for you, and me, and Phil, and Nate, and Parthipan, and many others I couldn't recognize. There were lots of colors, too. I had four pieces captured off the board. The other guy had too many to count. The Japanese kid had a piece. His was red, and it was right next to ours. And I think... I think I could move him. I think he was one of our pieces. I think he was on our side.>
<Then I was in his house. His house. In Tokyo. Rose petals were falling like rain. He was there. So was his sister. And she was hurt. He told me her legs had been broken. She would never walk. And I think -- I think it was Shade that did it. It was why he was looking for him on the plane.>
<He told me other things, too. That the other guys on the plane lied to him. That he didn't want to let himself be caught... or maybe it was let "people like him" be caught. Or like us. Hazy. He also said he was ready to die. He told me that he was in the same hospital as Parthipan. And he told me that the last time it rained in Tokyo was on the eighth. I looked it up, and he was right. I didn't know that. It couldn't have come from my own mind. So, I know, it couldn't have been my own dream.>
<I know, in my heart of hearts, we have to rescue him from here, before the Cabal spirits him away in the night to lock away in a cellar for the rest of his very short life. I'm in Parthipan's room right now, and the kid is a few rooms away, and I think I have a plan to rescue him. I need to steal some handcuffs, though.>
Can't help you with the handcuffs. But I'll find out what the Oracle thinks about your dream. Be in touch again.
And with that, Bjorn pulls the mindboard away from Paul.
Dracos whistles, heading back into the room proper. "Not too bad a place to be hung up in. Anyhow, want us to hang around here, Steven?"
Dracos
Ginrai shrugs. "Why not."
He slowly gets up, not wanting to reaggravate any of his injuries.
"Mkay. Got no problem with keeping you company."
Dracos
"So what're you guys going to do until I can get out of here?"
Moving doesn't really hurt, though you do feel weak; mostly due to lack of blood. Since you won't eat red meat to restore the missing iron content in your blood-stream, the nurses have been making you take iron supliments and drink tons of juice.
It's actually kind of nice to have that freedom to walk around without having to stay in the bed, though.
"Come on, out on the balcony. Some fresh air would probably do you good."
Dracos leads the way out onto the balcony and idly tries to establish contact out of the corner of his eye with the asian punk while out there.
~You hear this?~
Dracos
The BCK starts slightly, but relaxes back into the bed without any other external indication. You're just out of sight of the guard, as far as you can tell.
Yes? he sends back to you.
~Okay, I'm going to be blunt here. At the moment, I don't particularly like you. It's nothing personal, just I tend to hold idle grudges against people who were waving guns in my face. But you've convinced my friend to help you out. So here's what I want to know for starters... I want to know what you intend when you get out of here. As I see it you can do a few things. You can vanish. Get back wherever your home is. Claim to have killed shade if you need to and have satisfied whatever honor you need. If you do that, don't bother us again. We'll probably help you, but in return we'd expect you to do no harm back to us. We'll let by-gones be by-gones. Alternatively, you can help us. Those who nearly got you killed, are no friends of ours either and if you feel like helping give them a black eye or two, I can overlook the fact that you helped them nearly kill us all and let by-gones be by-gones, if you help us out. If that's the case, we'll certainly be looking into breaking you out. Alternatively, if you won't either help us or do no harm to us, well, you are on your own. Either way, I'd like your word on your choice.~
Dracos
Threats ensure such stable alliances, he replies somewhat caustically. I recognize you, and you're not who I wish to work with. The ally I await knows a password. Do you?
Dracos idly glances over to huitz, ~Password. Give now. And next time, give earlier.~
Dracos
<What, you're talking to him now? You could have warned me.>
<The password is "Elbereth".>
Dracos idly switches back, ~Elbereth.~
...damn. I have to work with an overbearing asshole. You get the vague impression that he didn't mean that thought for you. Oh, he says, adding what you suspect is false cheer to the thoughts. Well, that's different. Sure, we can work together. I'll help you if I can live.
~As I said, I don't care whether you help me or not. I care that you promise you won't stab us in the back. If you help us alongside, that's all well and good. We'd appreciate it. Now, first off, can you get out of your cuffs without help or do we need to plan to get you out of them?~
Dracos
Okay, okay. Just only talk when you have orders to give. I have to focus. And I can get myself out of the cuffs, but the guard's watching, which will make things inconvenient.
~That makes things a lot easier. We'll see what we can do.~
"Hum..." Dracos idly switched over to Huitzil.
~Okay, he can get out of his own cuffs. That leaves less for us to plan out. Now, any thoughts on dealing with the guard in the room with him?~
Dracos
<I don't suppose your psychical powers cam make him think he heard something, or make him have to take a shit, can they?>
Ginrai takes in a deep breath of fresh air as he stares out at the sky, idly wondering what the hell his two friends are up to at the moment.
Parthipan: Your friends are probably completely psychotic. Its at times like this the ability to hide in a Porta-Pet box is much more fun than dealing with the undoubted mental strain of TK or psychic powers.
Philip: While you might be able to plant a suggestion, you doubt you'd have the ability to effect his mind directly enough to accomplish anything other than making him suspicous.
Paul: If you don't hurry back to the Embassy, you're going to miss the next episode of Monk.
Paul turns on the in-room TV, should it exist, and starts flipping channels in the slim hope they have sattelite TV here.
To Drac, he notes, <Even if he can get out of his cuffs, we might not have the time to do it. We could get a mirror -- the smallest one we could find, preferably like those ones dentists use, or a shaving mirror -- and use it to peer into the kid's room undetected. Then the next time the guard uses the toilet or leaves the room, we rush in and barricade the doors, then carry out the rest of the plan -- they will just think that the kid blocked the doors himself.>
<Of course, that won't work if there's a security camera in the room. Any way of finding out?>
No satellite television here. But you do find a 'raw' Jerry Lewis telethon.
~I know this. But we handle problems one at a time. No, I can't do suggestions. As far as security cameras go, only our eyes which aren't quite good enough. Personally, I'm going to assume they are there. If only because if I was a hospital with terrorists and I had ANY rooms whatsoever that had security cameras in them, I'd stick the terrorists in the rooms where they can be double-watched by that twenty-four/seven. In fact, I'd also do that with Ginrai to help give protection against him just vanishing or getting kidnapped or any number of problems which while unlikely would be a major political blackeye. Hum... And alarms...~
Dracos idly glances over at the glass door of the BCK's room. He checks the four corners, looking for the tell-tale tiny box that indicates an alarm sensor triggered by door opening distance.
Dracos
You don't see any aluminum squares or wires to indicate alarm systems anywhere.
~Hum, there's no alarms on the door. Odd. Well, one less thing to worry about. Hmm, wonder what would happen if we set off the fire alarm. Current thought, tomorrow, you stay out front in the car. Use your telekinesis to swat a fire alarm, hopefully setting it off, on our signal. We'll wait here for the guard to be distracted and give you the signal to add another distraction once we are getting him out of the room. The place will be filled with people outside from the fire alarm, and he should be able to just sneak off in the crowds.~
Dracos
<I dunno, if you say so... I just think that whatever we do should fake out the Cabal guys.>
~*Sense of confusion* ...What cabal guys? You really don't seriously think they bothered to have every cop around here be there own men when it's totally and completely unnecessary to successfully see these guys all in a max security prison for the rest of their lives.~
Dracos
<No, I think that SOME of them are. And I think that if that kid gets sent to a maximum security prison, he's never going to arrive there.>
Dracos raises an eyebrow, ~Why? What in the fucking world would be the point? If I wanted to lock someone away for good, I could think of few easier methods than to simply put a little pressure on the system and make sure that he's taken to a nice max security prison where he'd never see the light of day again. Why the heck put the additional effort behind what can be easily arranged with little effort from the shadows?~
Dracos
<If they just wanted people put away, they wouldn't have had a secret holding cell under San Franciso.>
~Look, let's worry about faking out the folks that aren't cabal, but are just police officers doing their job first. Yes, we could have to worry about super secret plans to see him dead, but really, I just can't see it worth extra planning. We have obvious folks that are going to stop us. Those are the ones to consider.~
Dracos
Ginrai coughs, hoping this would actually get Drac's attention. "So, what're you guys planning to do tonight?"
"Eh, not much. You've been watching the news at all?"
Dracos
"Didn't pay much attention to it, other than for anything on what happened a few days ago."
Ginrai right now is wishing he had his lucky pipe with him so he could smack Dracos with it since he wanted a telepathic reply on what he and Paul are planning.
"Well, we'd hit the town, but we're sort of pinned down by the media. So we are likely just going to hang around the embassy till you can leave and hope we can ditch the press and get back to vacationing and all. Maybe sneak on a bus around France or something if we don't fly."
Dracos
"Sounds like a plan. You guys have any place in particular that you want to go to first?"
Dracos idly poked Huitzil as he continued, "Oh, I was thinking we could either continue to Gibraltar swiftly, or take a tour around southern france. I know a few folks around there that swear the food and wine is delightful in that area."
Dracos
"Really? If so, that'll be a nice way to start this trip."
"I know I'm not leaving until I hock a loogie off the Arc de Triomphe."
"Yeah, real nice area. Should be sunny as well." Dracos smiled, idly switching tracks to Ginrai. ~This is tiresome. Anyhow, as I see it, if we get the okay back from the oracle, we can rescue the arse by having Huitzil set off the fire alarm using his psionic powers or any other method near the front of the hospital while we break the guy out of the place when we come to get you tomorrow. He can get out of his cuffs, but there's still the guard. Either way, when we get him out of there, we change his clothes fast and then have him head down the fire escape and get out of there. Either we follow him or move out the front making like nothing is wrong.~
Dracos
<Brian> The scene is thusly. It's mid-to-late afternoon. You're in a hospital room apparently reserved for just Parthipan. The TV is showing you Jerry Lewis's greatest hits (in English).
Huitzil keeps a-flippin' channels.
<Brian> That's the best thing on, unless you want CNN in French.
<Ginrai> -Think you'll be able to get around the security?-
<Dracos> -Ideally we only have to silence the one in the room. If we time it right we can get it while he's in the bathroom. If not, we're going to have to come up with something.-
<Ginrai> -And you're sure that the thug won't be around when the fire alarm goes off?-
<Ginrai> -Or is that a risk we'll have to take?-
<Dracos> -If you have more clever ideas, I'd love to hear them. We'd be already moving him out by the time the alarm would go off. Alternatively, we can use that as the distraction and knock out the thug while he's stunned. There's another method, but it's ugly, and I'm not going to really consider it.-
<Huitzil> "Dammit! How the hell do these savages live without Tony Shaloub?"
<Ginrai> -And the other method would be... ?-
<Dracos> Dracos rolls his eyes, "Easily." - You turn into a wolf, leap into the room and tear out his throat. Alternatively you do the same outside causing him to leave the room.-
<Ginrai> -Yeah... we'll leave that option as a last choice.-
<Ginrai> -By the way, do you have our luggage?-
<Dracos> "Yep."
<Dracos> "They brought it to the embassy."
<Huitzil> "The what now?"
Huitzil continues flipping through the scant number of channels they have in the slim hope an extra channel might appear after enough cycle-throughs.
<Dracos> "Luggage. You know? The bags."
<Huitzil> "What about our luggage?"
<Brian> Tragically, no new channels appear.
<Ginrai> "Ah, that's good to hear."
<Dracos> Dracos turns and idly gives Huitz an 'are you an idiot or just being a fucknut'.
<Dracos> "Steven asked where our luggage was. Weren't you paying attention?"
<Huitzil> "What, oh, right right right." He mashes the remote some more. "Say, does that look like David Schwimmer to you?"
<Dracos> "Um, given I don't watch TV and haven't in nearly a decade now, I really couldn't say."
<Ginrai> Ginrai shrugs. "Don't ask me."
<Dracos> -So, any ideas Gin? We'll hang out here a while before heading back.-
<Ginrai> -Currently, no. The idea you have seems to make the most sense. You guys already have a car so we can get out of here fast once this is done or are you hoping that no one will recognize the kid?-
<Dracos> -The kid is on his own once we get him out of here. For many many reasons whatever we choose we can't keep him along with us or else we increase the chances of us getting caught quite a lot. Hopefully he can blend in and disappear well enough. And he has to have some connections to have gotten out this far anyway. We'll either walk out to the embassy car afterwards or walk a ways and catch a cab.-
<Ginrai> -Okay... wait, in the case of the latter, will we be able to go back to the embassy to pick up our stuff?-
<Dracos> -I'm currently betting on the former. We wouldn't be able to get our stuff from the embassy if we leave that method.-
<Ginrai> -Ah, damn... in that case, is it possible for you to bring my knife along? I'll definitely need that.-
<Dracos> -I'll see about wearing one of my pants with the obtusely huge pockets...-
<Brian> roll 6d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 6d6 --> [ 6d6=16 ]{16}
<Brian> 16 is less than Philip's ego, so he is successful when attempting to stop someone from reading his mind.
<Brian> roll 2#6d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 2#6d6 --> [ 6d6=15 ]{15}, [ 6d6=29 ]{29}
<Dracos> -And in other news, Dragon warrior 1 is the best game for those who are being mind-sweeped.-
<Dracos> "Hum, I think it's time to go now actually..."
Dracos glances around, trying to see if he can spot anyone suspicious looking at them or within hearing distance.
<Brian> You're in a closed room.
<Brian> You see no one except the others in this room with you.
<Brian> roll 6d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 6d6 --> [ 6d6=18 ]{18}
<Dracos> "Yeah, I think you need your rest Steven."
<Brian> Everyone, please make a perception check.
<Dracos> Roll 3d6 for perception work.
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 3d6 for perception work. --> [ 3d6=9 ]{9}
<Huitzil> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Huitzil ... : 3d6 --> [ 3d6=12 ]{12}
<Ginrai> roll 3d6 to make up for Drac's foolishness
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Ginrai ... : 3d6 to make up for Drac's foolishness --> [ 3d6=8 ]{8}
<Brian> You all hear (Ginrai better than everyone else) footsteps rushing down the hall, past the door.
<Ginrai> "Who here saw this one coming?"
<Huitzil> "Que?"
<Dracos> -Guys, don't worry about that. Let's calmly leave the building. Gin, stay here. You should be safe, but we should get out of here.-
Dracos switches to Huitz.
<Dracos> -Let's go, and sing a song for the audience won't you?-
<Dracos> "Huh? Don't know what you're talking about Steve. Anyhow, get some rest. We'll be back when you are better."
Dracos leads the way out of the room, glancing about as he steps out.
<Ginrai> "Really now, guys. You don't have to leave me here, you know...."
<Brian> You see four heavily armed (and armored) guys rushing down the corridor towards the terrorist's rooms.
Huitzil does not sing a song. He does, however, mentally envision page 61 of "Alice Second" in fully animated, colored dickgirl splendor.
Huitzil follows behind Drac.
<Brian> They're carrying security armor, not the S.W.A.T. armor you're familiar with, and carrying shotguns instead of tranq guns and tazers.
Dracos does what all good civilians are trained to do! Stay out of the way, and look for someone who knows what's going on to get the scoop from.
<Ginrai> Bri: Am I also able to see this?
<Brian> They're also being chased by a number of angry doctors yelling in French.
<Brian> Ginrai: Only if you sit up in bed.
Huitzil steps back and presses up against the wall next to the door.
<Brian> Dracos: The doctors seem to be yelling that the thugs are apparently breaking several rules, AND ignoring several rights of the patients.
<Dracos> -Feel like trying to calm the situation down or just watching?-
Ginrai sighs and goes to check what's on tv
<Brian> Ginrai: Same stuff as always. Sadly, Jerry Lewis is the only thing you can understand.
<Huitzil> <Watch. We don't know what they're after yet.>
Dracos stays out of the way, watching.
<Brian> The crowd stampedes past your doorway.
<Brian> Since you have elected to watch quietly (along with every other non-cuffed-to-their-beds resident of this wing) you see them thunder through the door to BCK's room, despite the thug's protests that these new armored arrivals lack the proper papers.
<Dracos> -Mkay... This is...the Cabal group. And we're likely still being listened in on making this channel useless.-
<Brian> roll 6d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 6d6 --> [ 6d6=23 ]{23}
<Brian> Dracos: Someone has just established mental contact with YOU. You cannot (exactly) establish a line-of-site with your mental attacker, but you may make a contested telepathy roll to try and get a single question answered from your target (as they are already trying to do to you).
<Dracos> Roll 6d6 for ripping who he is from him.
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 6d6 for ripping who he is from him. --> [ 6d6=18 ]{18}
<Brian> roll 6d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 6d6 --> [ 6d6=16 ]{16}
<Brian> Well, that was in impressive display of mental futility. Your foe seems to be just as bad at getting a grip on your mind as you are on him. This doesn't really stop either of you, but it does take time.
<Brian> The security thug is pushed back by a pair of the armored thugs, who barge into BCK's room. Yelling is heard from within, French and Japanese mixed into incomprehensibility.
<Brian> Round 2 of mental combat.
Dracos looks around furatively trying to locate his foe while continuing to strain against him mentally.
<Brian> roll 6d6 for fact-stealing.
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 6d6 for fact-stealing. --> [ 6d6=16 ]{16}
<Dracos> Roll 6d6 for round 2 victory
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 6d6 for round 2 victory --> [ 6d6=18 ]{18}
<Dracos> ...
<Brian> There's no LOS to your foe. You can sense that they're messing with you, and don't have your limitation of requiring line of sight.
<Brian> The other thug is pushed outside of the room by the thugs. Both of the thugs (and the other two thugs, from their respective doorways) look very concerned about this.
<Brian> roll 6d6 for fact-stealing
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 6d6 for fact-stealing --> [ 6d6=22 ]{22}
<Huitzil> <Quick decision time Phil. Feeling stupid?>
<Dracos> Roll 6d6 for beating him to the fact!
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 6d6 for beating him to the fact! --> [ 6d6=23 ]{23}
<Brian> This time, your opponent gets a better dig in at you ... mental combat is entirely different from what you would have thought. You aren't able to get any facts from your target ... but you are able to protect yourself.
<Brian> The thugs enter the room ... and close the door behind them.
<Brian> Staring in bewilderment for a moment, one of the thugs goes to try the door.
Dracos doesn't even hear huitz as he struggles, frowning and trying to get a grasp on the methodology and focus of how this sort of fight moves, trying to follow the nature of it and drive his 'opponents' thought prongs back.
<Brian> Round 3.
<Brian> roll 6d6 for fact-stealing
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 6d6 for fact-stealing --> [ 6d6=23 ]{23}
<Dracos> Roll 6d6 for I have to get lucky sometime, please now!
<Huitzil> <Time to be stupid.>
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 6d6 for I have to get lucky sometime, please now! --> [ 6d6=21 ]{21}
<Huitzil> Paul quickly walks out the balcony door and to BCK's balcony door.
<Brian> Anyone joining him?
<Dracos> Uh... I'm staying still and trying to keep my mind from being ripped out.
<Brian> You've tied round. No headway, but you're holding him in a deadlock, at least.
<Ginrai> Am I in a good enough condition to fight?
<Brian> It would not be fun, but you could do it.
<Ginrai> "I take it the original plan is up in smoke, Paul?"
<Dracos> As I assume concentration does have something to do with it, I'm resisting my natural urge to try both and keeping focused on him rather then risking giving up the deadlock.
<Brian> Understood.
<Huitzil> "Fucked eight days to sunday."
<Huitzil> What do I see through the balcony door?
<Brian> The thugs are now yelling, and yanking on the doornob, beating on it ineffectively with their fists.
Ginrai slowly starts to get up and follow Paul, though he won't be close to him
<Brian> Huitzil: Mostly that you'll get there next round.
<Brian> Round 4.
<Brian> roll 6d6 for fact-stealing
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 6d6 for fact-stealing --> [ 6d6=24 ]{24}
<Dracos> Roll 6d6 for isn't it round five and come on 30+!
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 6d6 for isn't it round five and come on 30+! --> [ 6d6=22 ]{22}
<Brian> Okay. Through BCK's door, you see two thugs stationed at the door, one braced against it, the other assembling some explosives. You think they're explosives. If they're not, it's the most wire-and-LED-covered doorstop you've EVER seen.
Huitzil whispers "Follow my lead" to Gin as he dashes to the door.
<Brian> The third thug is looking at BCK sternly, shotgun pointed at his head, and the fourth is engraving some funky circle on the floor with a huge piece of chalk.
Ginrai does as Paul tells him
<Huitzil> Do they have guns drawn, the ones at the door?
<Brian> One of them does. The other has his hands full of explosives. Or just REALLY likes to play with wires and play-doh.
<Brian> Round five.
<Brian> roll 6d6 for further deadlock
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 6d6 for further deadlock --> [ 6d6=23 ]{23}
<Dracos> Roll 6d6 for "You see me now a vetern of a thousand psychic wars"
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 6d6 for "You see me now a vetern of a thousand psychic wars" --> [ 6d6=14 ]{14}
<Brian> Your attack was effortlessly thrown aside.
<Brian> Huitzil: Two of the thugs (idle one facing the door, and the one eying BCK) look up, raise hands to earpieces, nod, and look up to see ... you.
<Brian> Now we enter combat time.
<Brian> Brief recap: We had just entered combat time. It is Phase 0. Initiative is granted to: Paul.
<Brian> Currently, Huitzil is outside the sliding glass door to BCK's room, Parthipan is behind the wall (right next to Paul) and two of the thugs are turning their guns on the window.
<Ginrai> Do they spot me and am I able to see that they noticed Paul?
<Ginrai> ah, damn
<Huitzil> I use my TK at 25 strength to shatter the glass of the door, and if possible, send one or both goons flying from the force.
<Brian> Not enough fine control for both. But you can shatter the glass easily. Please roll 5#3d6, and 5#1d6.
<Huitzil> roll 5#3d6 no whammy
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Huitzil ... : 5#3d6 no whammy --> [ 3d6=9 ]{9}, [ 3d6=16 ]{16}, [ 3d6=5 ]{5}, [ 3d6=11 ]{11}, [ 3d6=14 ]{14}
<Huitzil> roll 5#1d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Huitzil ... : 5#1d6 --> [ 1d6=2 ]{2}, [ 1d6=5 ]{5}, [ 1d6=4 ]{4}, [ 1d6=3 ]{3}, [ 1d6=3 ]{3}
<Brian> Your TK propels giant wads of glass forward, missing two of the thugs, the BCK, and hitting both of the thugs near the far door. Their armor seems to have deflected any permanent injury, but you knocked those two to the ground.
<Brian> Next in dex order is ... BCK. His right hand glows briefly.
<Brian> Next in dex order is Parthipan.
<Ginrai> "Shit," Ginrai mutters.
<Ginrai> Will transform into the strongest form.
<Brian> Without your stone dagger, please make your activation roll.
<Ginrai> roll 3d6 for POWER!
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Ginrai ... : 3d6 for POWER! --> [ 3d6=13 ]{13}
<Ginrai> FUCK
<Brian> You feel dizzy. You feel tired. You also feel like a guy with two healing gunshot wounds, and not like a wolf.
<Brian> Remaining held actions are the gunner near BCK, who is ignoring the kid, and aiming at Paul.
<Brian> roll 3d6 for shotgun blast
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 for shotgun blast --> [ 3d6=11 ]{11}
<Brian> Paul, you have been hit.
<Brian> roll 3d6 for hit location
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 for hit location --> [ 3d6=12 ]{12}
<Huitzil> Ow.
<Brian> To the stomach.
<Huitzil> Ow.
<Brian> This is a slug, not buckshot. You're not certain that this is a good thing.
<Brian> roll 3#1d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3#1d6 --> [ 1d6=4 ]{4}, [ 1d6=6 ]{6}, [ 1d6=4 ]{4}
<Brian> Take 8 body (normal) before defenses, and 28 stun.
<Brian> Your PD of 4 reduces the body damage to 4, and the stun to 24.
<Brian> You are at -8 stun, and therefore Stunned.
Huitzil screams.
<Brian> You also fall backwards and kind of collapse against the balcony railing, and have a big lead slug in your gut.
<Ginrai> "Ah, shit!"
<Brian> Phase 4, speed 3s.
<Brian> Dracos: Your action.
Huitzil, if he were planning and rational right now, would be pretending to have been killed by that so he won't get shot again. Instead, he is screaming in agony.
<Dracos> I'm continuing to try to push the maniac out of my mind, hoping that the screams are not my friends, but really not sparing the time to ponder it until I manage to get rid of my own mental assailant.
<Brian> Well, since we're in advanced combat, you're a speed 3, and your opponent is a speed 2. This means you can attack him (mentally) one extra time. It just costs you more endurance.
<Dracos> I'm going to rest one turn in three because otherwise I think I'd probably collapse soon.
<Brian> Make your telepathy roll.
<Dracos> Roll 6d6 for the desperate strike, away!
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 6d6 for the desperate strike, away! --> [ 6d6=24 ]{24}
<Brian> Your opponent attempts to defend.
<Brian> roll 6d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 6d6 --> [ 6d6=8 ]{21}
<Brian> He blocks you, but you feel you're gaining the upper edge here.
<Brian> Ginrai, your phase.
<Ginrai> hmm...
Ginrai will attempt to change again
<Ginrai> Strongest form, as usual.
<Brian> Please make your roll.
<Ginrai> roll 3d6 for Paul!
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Ginrai ... : 3d6 for Paul! --> [ 3d6=10 ]{10}
<Ginrai> YES
<Brian> You're now a wolf, and feel ... pretty good, actually. But the transformation is a full-phase action.
<Brian> Remaining speed three is the BCK, and he lunges (to sit up right) and slash at the cuff on his ankle.
<Brian> roll 7d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 7d6 --> [ 7d6=25 ]{25}
<Brian> There's a crack, a pop, and the chain severs. He aborts his next action to dive through the open door.
<Brian> roll 3d6 for acrobatics
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 for acrobatics --> [ 3d6=6 ]{6}
<Brian> He lands on one foot, overbalances on the balcony, and flips behind the wall, managing to actually drag Paul with him.
<Brian> Phase 6: Speed twos act.
<Brian> You have no one to see into the room to know what the thugs are doing.
<Brian> Huitzil takes a gratis recovery and is now up to -6 Stun.
<Brian> Phase 8, speed threes.
<Brian> Dracos, your action.
Dracos focuses his mind, concentrating on not losing any advantage and slowly pushing the other mind back, crushing it.
<Dracos> Roll 6d6 for luck!
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 6d6 for luck! --> [ 6d6=13 ]{13}
<Brian> roll 6d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 6d6 --> [ 6d6=27 ]{27}
<Brian> You're expertly blocked. But then, your opponent has only blocked for a while, now. You seem to be holding the edge.
<Brian> Ginrai, your action.
<Ginrai> Hmm...
<Ginrai> Am I able to check with the BCK on what to do and still act within the turn?
<Brian> He's staring at Paul with wide-eyes, like he can't believe where he is and what he's doing. You certainly don't have time to converse.
<Ginrai> damn..
<Ginrai> hmm... can howling create a presence attack?
<Brian> It can.
Ginrai howls loudly
<Brian> With a presence of 7, you get 1d6 for your attack. There's an automatic -1d6 penalty for being in a combat situation.
<Brian> Please roll your bonus 2d6 dice to make your presence attack.
<Ginrai> hmm? 2d6 for the attack or penalty?
<Brian> For your attack.
<Ginrai> roll 2d6 to scare them
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Ginrai ... : 2d6 to scare them --> [ 2d6=6 ]{6}
<Brian> You don't hear them running away....
<Brian> Phase 12, everyone acts.
<Brian> First up: Dracos.
<Dracos> How tired do I feel?
<Brian> Not very.
Dracos calmly focuses, pulling back for a moment and then concentrating on smashing right through the metal block of his opponent, trying to keep him on the defense.
<Dracos> Roll 6d6 for telepathic warfare!
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 6d6 for telepathic warfare! --> [ 6d6=14 ]{14}
<Brian> You make no headway. Your opponent's mind is like an iron wall.
<Brian> ...but he doesn't counter-attack right-away.
<Brian> Next in dex order is BCK. He regains his footing, and is holding a small knife in one hand.
<Brian> Next are the thugs. Two of them burst out onto the balcony, and both turn towards BCK immediately.
<Brian> roll 2#3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 2#3d6 --> [ 3d6=11 ]{11}, [ 3d6=12 ]{12}
<Brian> Both miss (barely) with their slug-rounds.
<Brian> Ginrai: Your action.
<Ginrai> They don't notice me...
Ginrai lunges to the closest thug, mouth open and ready to bite *hard*
<Brian> Roll 3d6 for your ego roll to push your strength.
<Ginrai> Roll 3d6 for more power
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Ginrai ... : 3d6 for more power --> [ 3d6=9 ]{9}
<Brian> Your strength for this attack is 28. Please roll your 2d6 killing damage.
<Ginrai> roll 2d6 to KILL
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Ginrai ... : 2d6 to KILL --> [ 2d6=9 ]{9}
<Brian> roll 3d6 for hit location
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 for hit location --> [ 3d6=13 ]{13}
<Brian> Vitals. Double body -- you just tore out his femoral artery, and, well, the rest of his left leg. He goes down gurgling and frothing, splashing blood all over the place.
<Brian> Please roll 5d6.
<Ginrai> roll 5d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Ginrai ... : 5d6 --> [ 5d6=13 ]{13}
<Brian> Post-segment 12, everyone regains their REC in END.
<Brian> Paul, you are now at -3 Stun.
<Brian> Segment 4, speed threes.
<Brian> Dracos, you're first.
<Dracos> Can I do passive scanning while I rest? Or no?
<Brian> No.
<Brian> But you just took a recovery. You can elect to take another.
<Dracos> Hmm... ah heck.
<Dracos> Roll 6d6 for perceiving with cold intelligence and not bad rolls
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 6d6 for perceiving with cold intelligence and not bad rolls --> [ 6d6=24 ]{24}
Dracos attempts to shake his opponents wall until is falls down.
<Brian> Well, you've got a location. Whoever it is (and whichever gender they are) they are directly above you, next floor up.
<Brian> They're also quite scared, and now trying to push you off of the connection.
<Dracos> Oooh... Can I still move this round or no? ^^
<Brian> Half-move.
<Brian> It will take you (combat time) about 24 full turns to get there.
<Dracos> I make a half move towards the stairs or elevator, whichever I remember as being closer.
<Brian> Stairs it is.
<Brian> Next in dex order: BCK goes, and lunges at the thug Ginrai didn't already take down.
<Brian> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 --> [ 3d6=10 ]{10}
<Brian> roll 3d6 for hit location
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 for hit location --> [ 3d6=8 ]{8}
<Brian> Arms, unarmored.
<Brian> roll 1d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 1d6 --> [ 1d6=6 ]{6}
<Brian> roll 1d5 stun multiplier
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 1d5 stun multiplier --> [ 1d5=4 ]{4}
<Brian> BCK has just disabled his attacker's left arm. A shotgun falls and lands on Huitzil, while the thug screams in pain.
<Brian> Phase 6, speed 2s.
<Brian> Roll 6d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 6d6 --> [ 6d6=17 ]{17}
<Brian> Dracos: The other psi is unable to sever the connection.
<Brian> Ginrai: You can see the thug who was messing with the explosives rise, and ready his shotgun. The other appears to have finished with his chalk sidewalk art, and rises with his own shotgun.
<Brian> Phase 8, speed threes.
<Brian> Dracos, you're first.
<Dracos> I continue moving towards the other psi, focusing on keeping the connection open, widening it and holding him/her at lock. If I can get more info, cool, but if not, that's my goal.
<Dracos> Roll 6d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 6d6 --> [ 6d6=16 ]{16}
<Brian> You're able to hold the connection, anyway.
<Brian> Next in dex order: BCK.
<Brian> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 --> [ 3d6=9 ]{9}
<Brian> roll 3d6 for hit location
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 for hit location --> [ 3d6=10 ]{10}
<Brian> Chest, armored.
<Brian> roll 1d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 1d6 --> [ 1d6=1 ]{1}
<Brian> BCK manages to chip his knife on the screaming thug's chestplate.
<Brian> Next up: Ginrai.
<Ginrai> Okay, the thug I bit is down for the count?
<Brian> He's going to bleed out in about thirty seconds.
<Brian> Even with medical attention, the odds of him surviving are really slim.
<Brian> This tends to happen when you tear off limbs.
<Ginrai> And the one BCK is fighting is right next to me?
Ginrai will open wide and bite down on that one since it looks as if BCK might have some trouble with him otherwise
<Brian> Okay. Go ahead and make your attack roll.
<Ginrai> roll 2d6 to end the thug's misery
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Ginrai ... : 2d6 to end the thug's misery --> [ 2d6=10 ]{10}
<Brian> You hit.
<Brian> Please roll your 1d6+1d3 damage.
<Ginrai> roll 1d6+1d3 to inflict pain
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Ginrai ... : 1d6+1d3 to inflict pain --> [ 1d6=6 1d3=2 ]{8}
<Brian> roll 3d6 for hit location
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 for hit location --> [ 3d6=11 ]{11}
<Brian> Your teeth shatter the ablative anti-balistic plate on his chest, and tear through it into the actual flesh of his stomach. Your jaws are wide enough to actually accomodate him (in armor) and you'll shortly crush him to death with your vise-like grip.
<Brian> roll 1d6 stun multiplier
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 1d6 stun multiplier --> [ 1d6=6 ]{6}
<Brian> In the meantime, you've dealt 4 body, destroyed his armor, and done 24 Stun to him.
<Brian> Even if you drop him, he's not getting up any time soon.
<Ginrai> Ah, when's the earliest I can drop him?
<Brian> Any time between now and your next phase.
<Brian> Otherwise, your attack is Continous, and you do NOT have to re-roll your attack to continue to apply damage.
<Ginrai> Hmm..
<Brian> However.
<Brian> It's now phase 12.
<Brian> First up: Dracos.
<Dracos> ^_^
<Dracos> I can do presence attacks through the telepathic link, correct? Any chance I can combine my presence, telepathy, and flaming skills to attempt to make a direct blow at weakening my opponents ego at the core? ^^
<Brian> No.
<Dracos> Pity. Overgreedy. ^_^
<Brian> Mind-to-mind combat directly against someone else's ego is assumed to encompass such factors.
<Dracos> *nods*
<Brian> Your action?
<Dracos> I keep up the assault, feeding on the fellows fear as I continue heading towards him, trying to maintain a calm outside demeanor.
<Dracos> Roll 6d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 6d6 --> [ 6d6=20 ]{20}
<Brian> No further headway, but you're maintaining the position of your foe in your mind.
<Brian> Next up: BCK. His right hand glows, and he jumps into the doorway (between Ginrai and the other two thugs) and yells. A stream of metal projectiles fly out of his palm.
<Brian> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 --> [ 3d6=12 ]{12}
<Brian> Two hits.
<Brian> roll 2#1d3
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 2#1d3 --> [ 1d3=3 ]{3}, [ 1d3=3 ]{3}
<Brian> Roll 3d6 for hit location
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 for hit location --> [ 3d6=11 ]{11}
<Brian> Two metal throwing-stars smash into the ablative chest-plate of the thug who was working on the explosives (Thug #2) and stick there harmlessly. BCK looks the slightest bit daunted.
<Brian> Thugs go.
<Brian> roll 2#3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 2#3d6 --> [ 3d6=14 ]{14}, [ 3d6=10 ]{10}
<Brian> The first misses BCK, the second (barely) misses Ginrai.
<Brian> Post segment 12. Everyone recovers their REC in END and Stun.
<Brian> Huitzil, you're now at 0 Stun.
<Brian> Phase 4, speed threes. Dracos first.
<Dracos> I continue my actions, calmly focusing on continuing to rip into the fellow.
<Dracos> Roll 6d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 6d6 --> [ 6d6=25 ]{25}
<Brian> Success! Ask a question (which fact are you currently attempting to discern?).
<Dracos> Who are you?
Dracos is attempting to grasp basically as much of 'whom' he is fighting as he can. To discern the nature of his opponent.
<Brian> "You" is apparently Nathaniel Rivers.
<Brian> That's what you get.
<Brian> roll 6d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 6d6 --> [ 6d6=13 ]{26}
<Brian> And then the connection is cut off.
<Brian> Next up, BCK.
<Brian> He tries throwing stars again.
<Brian> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 --> [ 3d6=14 ]{14}
<Brian> One hit.
<Brian> roll 1d3
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 1d3 --> [ 1d3=2 ]{2}
<Brian> roll 3d6 for hit location.
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 for hit location. --> [ 3d6=11 ]{11}
<Brian> A third star joins the two useless ones already in Thug 2's chestplate.
<Brian> He ignores it, pretty much.
<Brian> Ginrai: Your action.
<Ginrai> Okay, is BCK between me and the thugs or do I have a clear view of them?
<Brian> He's really a bit to your left.
<Brian> So you can see them clearly. One is kind of behind the bed.
<Brian> The other one is near the chalk circle.
<Ginrai> The one behind the bed, is he crouching?
<Brian> Nope.
Ginrai flings the thug in his mouth towards the thug standing behind the bed.
<Ginrai> Hoping to knock that one out.
<Ginrai> Or down at least.
<Brian> Make a roll.
<Brian> (3d6)
<Ginrai> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Ginrai ... : 3d6 --> [ 3d6=13 ]{13}
<Brian> You're not really good at throwing people accurately with your head. He kinda flies into a wall, bounces off, and leaves a huge spatter of blood behind him.
<Brian> This does seem to really alarm the thug, though.
<Brian> Phase 6: Speed 2s.
<Brian> Paul takes a recovery and is now at 3 END and 3 Stun.
<Brian> (You are no conscious, but can not yet act.)
<Brian> *now
<Brian> The thugs both spend their phases reloading their guns.
<Brian> Phase 8, speed 3s.
<Brian> Dracos, again, you're first.
<Dracos> I move fast towards where I had located the other telepath.
<Brian> The doctors are looking at you strangely, but you continue to run.
<Brian> BCK's turn next.
<Brian> He tries (though he's looking tired, now) another bevy of stars.
<Brian> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 --> [ 3d6=9 ]{9}
<Brian> Four hits.
<Brian> roll 4#1d3
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 4#1d3 --> [ 1d3=3 ]{3}, [ 1d3=1 ]{1}, [ 1d3=3 ]{3}, [ 1d3=1 ]{1}
<Brian> roll 3d6 for hit location
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 for hit location --> [ 3d6=12 ]{12}
<Brian> Stomach, again, armored. Two stars fly off into the walls. The other four join the collection, and the thug sneers, until there's a crack, and his ablative plating crumples off.
<Brian> Ginrai's turn next.
<Ginrai> Okay, which thug's armor just fell off?
<Brian> Thug #2. The one BCK had been focusing on.
Ginrai will lunge and bite into the one that still has it.
<Ginrai> I mean the one behind the bed or the other one?
<Brian> The one behind the bed, yes.
<Ginrai> ok
Ginrai will lunge and bit into the thug by the chalk circle
<Brian> Go ahead and make your attack roll.
<Ginrai> roll 2d6 for one step closer to victory!
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Ginrai ... : 2d6 for one step closer to victory! --> [ 2d6=7 ]{7}
<Brian> He tries to dodge, but too little, too late.
<Brian> Go ahead and roll your 1d6+1d3 damage.
<Ginrai> roll 1d6+1d3 to add to my killcount
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Ginrai ... : 1d6+1d3 to add to my killcount --> [ 1d6=1 1d3=1 ]{2}
<Ginrai> ...
<Brian> roll 3d6 for hit location
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 for hit location --> [ 3d6=10 ]{10}
<Brian> Your teeth fail to find a grip on his armor.
<Brian> Phase 12, everyone goes.
<Brian> Dracos, I imagine your course is unchanged?
<Dracos> I'm going to slow to a fast walk, trying to get up there without drawing too much attention. There's no point in running back at the moment. All I can hope is that I find him by luck.
<Brian> You don't know what he looks like.
<Brian> But, you continue on anyway. Maybe things will work out.
<Brian> Next up: BCK again.
<Brian> He just kind of glares at Thug #2, and catches his breath.
<Brian> Next up: Huitzil.
Huitzil is singing the song, the only mental bridge he knows of to activate his powers. It is not just in his head now, the words fall from his mouth loud and toneless as he drags himself to the roomwith the thugs in it.
<Huitzil> "IT'S THE HOOOOOOO-OOOOONKY-TONK WOMEN! GIMME, GIMME, GIMME THE HONKY-TONK BLUES!"
Huitzil then pulls the thug closest to the chalk circle toward him, as fast as he can, intending to send him over the rail and to the concrete several stories below.
<Brian> Go ahead and make your roll.
<Huitzil> roll 3d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Huitzil ... : 3d6 --> [ 3d6=8 ]{8}
<Brian> You've thrown him quite well. Please roll 8#1d6.
<Huitzil> roll 8#1d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Huitzil ... : 8#1d6 --> [ 1d6=2 ]{2}, [ 1d6=2 ]{2}, [ 1d6=2 ]{2}, [ 1d6=2 ]{2}, [ 1d6=1 ]{1}, [ 1d6=6 ]{6}, [ 1d6=2 ]{2}, [ 1d6=1 ]{1}
<Brian> You smash him right through that decorative grill, and out over about three stories of the hospital.
<Brian> Bye bye, thugs. And, also, bye bye consciousness.
<Huitzil> "HOOOOONKY-TONK, HOOOOONKY-TONK WO --" *thud*
<Brian> roll 11d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 11d6 --> [ 11d6=41 ]{41}
<Brian> You now take 41 Stun.
<Brian> Your next recovery will be in: 1 hour.
<Huitzil> Bam.
<Brian> Next action: the remaining thug.
<Brian> He presses a button on the explosives-bundle next to him, and dives for the circle.
<Brian> roll 3d6 for acrobatics
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Brian ... : 3d6 for acrobatics --> [ 3d6=14 ]{14}
<Brian> He sprawls on the floor, and lands in the circle. There's a flash, he's gone, and the markings look much dimmer.
<Brian> The explosives bundle is also now going: 'pingpingpingpingpingpingping!' somewhat noisily.
<Ginrai> Is it my turn?
<Brian> Yes.
<Ginrai> Hmm...
<Ginrai> Is it possible to grab the bundle and fling it outdoors in one quick move?
<Ginrai> actually..
<Brian> Well, it would be really hard to do as a wolf.
<Ginrai> Is it possible to get the BCK to jump on my back and for us to grab Uns and get the hell out?
<Brian> ...probably would be really hard to pull off.
<Brian> Also, the thing is a basketball-sized lump of raw explosives. You're not an expert, but you think that's a lot.
Ginrai turns to BCK and points his face towards the window
<Ginrai> Actually.
<Ginrai> Can I change back immediately or will that take a turn?
<Brian> You can change back, and it does take a turn.
<Brian> But it doesn't require a roll.
<Ginrai> Is there any way for me to pick up Uns without hurting him?
<Brian> Not really.
<Brian> Wolves weren't made to be beasts of burden.
<Brian> Anyway. BCK ignores you, and grabs the explosives, unceremoniously dropping them in the center of the circle.
<Ginrai> ...
<Brian> There's a 'whoosh', the circle becomes a little more faded.
<Ginrai> Are the explosives gone?
<Brian> Probably.
<Brian> And a second later, there's a distant rumble and the earth shakes.
<Brian> They're gone for sure, now.
<Ginrai> Thank you, BCK!
<Brian> Dracos: Two men in immaculate black suits (they could be twins), dark glasses, black ties, white shirts, and black fedoras appear out of the crowds of panicked people and stand directly in front of you.
<Brian> (We'll drop out of combat time for the moment here.)
Dracos tries to scan them while nonchalantly trying to pull back into the crowd of panicked people.
<Dracos> Roll 6d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 6d6 --> [ 6d6=22 ]{22}
<Brian> -The less you know, the less danger you are in.-
<Brian> "Please come with us."
<Brian> You're not sure which has spoken.
<Dracos> "And you are?"
<Brian> "Interpol."
Dracos blinks.
<Brian> Both reach into pockets, fish out badges, and offer them up for inspection.
<Brian> "This will be easiest with your cooperation."
<Brian> Again, you're unable to tell which has spoken.
Dracos examines the badges, paying close attention to their motions, demeanor, any nervousness or sense of cruelty, continuing to try and listen in.
<Brian> Their names are 'Tompson' and 'Thomson' respectively.
<Brian> Make another roll, if you're attempting to scan their minds.
<Dracos> Lost my earlier connection?
<Dracos> Roll 6d6
<Chibi-Suu> Them bones was tossed for Dracos ... : 6d6 --> [ 6d6=26 ]{26}
<Brian> This is not mental combat.
<Dracos> *nods*
<Brian> -That's rather rude, you know.-
<Brian> "Sir, please come with us."
<Brian> The people around you are beginning to melt away and vanish. Pretty soon it's just going to be you and the MiBs.
<Dracos> "Okay." -Sorry, but I'm a bit paranoid at the moment and not the most polite fellow.-
<Brian> -Your reasons are just.-
<Brian> "Thank you for your cooperation."
<Brian> The two seem to expect you to follow them, and begin marching towards the room Ginrai was staying in.
Dracos follows behind them.
<Brian> Shortly, they come to the BCKs room.
<Brian> The grill off the balcony is shredded apart and dripping with blood (like someone was forcibly strained through it). Paul is lying on the ground bleeding from a gut wound. BCK is looking dizzy and short of breath, huddled on the floor with one eye twitching. Ginrai is a huge wolf who doesn't really look happy to see these new arrivals.
<Brian> The two MiBs scan the area, examine the circle on the floor, and exchange a glance.
<Brian> "Which of you is the leader?" one of them (it's hard to say which) asks.
<Brian> One of them crouches by Paul, and tends to his wound, binding it with some gauze.
<Ginrai> Can I see Drac?
Dracos glances back, idly closing the door behind him somewhat for some privacy.
Ginrai points his nose towards Dracos
<Dracos> "No real 'leader'. But I can answer whatever ye'd need."
<Brian> You entered via the balcony, so you have privacy, pretty much.
<Brian> The MiBs nod. "Please come with us. Our supervisor wishes to speak with you."
Dracos asks trustingly, "I trust that my friends here will be looked after and given proper attention?"
<Brian> "They will be joining us."
Dracos nods.
<Brian> The door opens, and two (different looking, but identically dressed) MiBs poke their heads in, looking around curiously.
<Brian> "This way," one of the Toms says.
<Dracos> "I'll speak with your supervisor."
Dracos follows.
<Brian> The pair begin walking out the door, the other MiBs picking up Paul and the BCK respectively.
Ginrai does so as well and checks to see if the BCK is following
<Brian> BCK seems to be going into some form of shock, or he's been poisoned. He looks pretty badly off.
<Brian> In short order, you're all taken down to a parking garage, and stuck in a stretch-limo with the Toms and a nurse.
<Brian> She administers an injection to BCK, who calms down quickly, and also re-dresses Paul's wound.
<Brian> "Do you have any questions you'd like answered before we arrive?" the MiBs ask, as the limo is wheeling out of the garage.
<Ginrai> And I'm with them in Wolf form?
<Brian> They don't seem to mind.
Dracos glances at Ginrai.
<Ginrai> "Yes?"
Ginrai decides to change back.
<Brian> Ginrai barks once before returning to his own form.
<Ginrai> "What group do you work for?"
<Dracos> "Could you please tell us the gist of what's going on? They are Interpol, Steve."
<Ginrai> "Or is that going to be explained later? Ah, okay."
<Brian> "Our supervisor wishes to speak to you," the Toms repeat. "We don't know more than that with regards to that question. We meant with regards to the Forge terrorist attacks that you have deflected recently."
<Dracos> "Hmm, I understand. Thank you, but I'll wait to hear what your supervisor has to say."
<Brian> They nod.
<Brian> You're dropped off at an official-looking building. Paul and the BCK are led away for treatment (one hopes) and you're led by the Toms through a bevy of security checkpoints, eventually reaching the office of a 'Richard Ashley'.
<Brian> The Toms nod to you, and gesture you in.
Dracos calmly enters the office.
Ginrai does so as well
<Brian> It's pretty utilitarian. There's chairs, which look comfortable, but not too flashy or kooshy. Pictures which are tasteful, but look (and are framed) economically.
<Brian> A desk which is large, but functional, not frilly. A somewhat dated looking iMac G5 is sitting on one corner of the desk, and reams of old-fashioned paperwork sit next to it.
<Brian> Behind this paperwork, the iMac, and (of course) the desk, sits Richard Ashley. A relatively calm-looking man, who would probably inspire respect if his MiB outfit were black, instead of pink.
<Brian> His hair is light brown, long, and tied back in a pony-tail, unlike the Toms' short, functional haircut.
<Brian> He looks up when you enter, and frowns slightly. Looking at him, his face is really similar to the Toms', actually. Maybe that's why he wears pink.
<Brian> You see a pink fedora and overcoat on a nearby hatrack.
Ginrai's eyes widen
<Ginrai> "Umm... Allegiance or Death. Bigfire?"
Dracos raises an eyebrow and then raises one higher at Ginrai.
<Brian> He rubs the bridge of his nose and looks frustrated. "Stupid cartoon," he growls with a thick French accent.
<Brian> He shakes his head and dismisses the comment. "Good to meet you," he says, gesturing to the empty seats.
<Dracos> "Greetings, Mr. Ashley. I am told you wanted to speak with us." Dracos gets into one of the seats calmly.
Ginrai gets into the other seat, waiting to hear what Ashley says
<Brian> "Bigfire eludes us yet, and then, my supervisor, he says, 'It would be funny, no, to have you wear pink, yes'?" He snorts.
<Brian> "And, he is my supervisor, so he makes this thing happen. It is ... not enjoyable. My wife, she thinks it is funny. But me, I do not."
Dracos smiles slightly.
<Brian> He shakes his head again.
<Brian> "But this is not what we are to speak of."
<Brian> He steeples his hands together, and drums his fingertips together, staring up towards the ceiling. "I am a man with ... orders. I have supervisors. Many supervisors."
<Brian> "France is an old country. Very old. Not the oldest, of course. I imagine you know our government was not, how shall we say, without turmoil?" he looks at you questioningly over his folded hands, as if to verify that you understand what he's talking about.
Dracos listens silently for the moment, nodding in understanding and attentiveness.
<Brian> He nods at you, and continues.
<Brian> "There are people who stand in the shadows ... they pull the strings. The ... the ... what do you call them?" he looks at Ginrai questioningly.
<Ginrai> "Puppetmasters?"
<Brian> He claps his hands together. "Yes! The masters of the puppets. They pull the strings, and we dance." He nods, and frowns.
<Brian> "I am only a puppet, and when my strings are pulled, I dance. Our roots run deep, and those who are in charge ... they say to me, 'Ashley, you will do this thing.' And me, I say, 'Very well, this thing will be done.'"
<Brian> He looks troubled, and frowns. "There are things I must not say. Instead ... I will tell you a story. Or, maybe two stories."
Dracos idly folds his hands, nodding in understanding.
<Brian> "There is a man, a puppet. His masters pull his strings, and he dances. But this man, he has ... a sister. A sister who is visiting England."
<Brian> "When his sister comes home from England, she takes an aeroplane, because it is fashionable, and she is impatient for the train, and not romantic enough at heart to enjoy the sea."
<Brian> "This aeroplane has on it ... terrorists. And this man's sister is saved, by brave people."
<Brian> "Now, this man, this ... puppet ... is put in an awkward situation. his puppet master says, 'Ashley, this thing you must do is capture these people, because they are bad, and because I tell you that this is what you must do.'"
<Brian> "So, this puppet, he thinks, 'This is my job, and what I must do,' but he is unhappy. These people he has been told to catch ... they do a good thing. They save his sister, after all, yes?"
Paul: You find yourself waking up standing between two cold, unspeaking, nearly featureless and identical men in black outfits. You're in an elevator, moving up, you're already standing, your gut doesn't hurt (but your entire body feels a tiny bit achy, for some reason) and you have no idea what's going on.
Philip, Parthipan: The man frowns at his desk for a moment, then sighs, and opens a drawer, removing a cigarette case, and snapping it open. After putting a cigarette into his own mouth, he offers the case to the pair of you.
"Eh huh? What's going on?"
Paul shakes his head and slaps his face to wake himself up.
Dracos respectfully declined the offer and then nods in response. "A...tough and regrettable position for this man to be trapped in. No man should have to choose between what they think is just and their duty. But this is a telling tale, I wonder what this man choose to do in such a difficult position."
Dracos
Paul: The men say nothing, until the elevator opens in a hallway, and they motion you to follow them to an office. You hear Dracos's voice echoing, but only catch the last few words: "...such a difficult position."
The men gesture you to enter the room.
Philip, Parthipan: Meanwhile, behind his desk, Richard can see out the door, and looks at someone you'd need to turn around to see. "Ah, and then the last will come, and I can tell you the answer to your question, hmm?" He gestures the unseen person in, still offering out the cigarette case.
Paul looks around at the hallway, looking to see if it looks like the one in his dream -- even though almost nothing there was definite, does it remind him of this hall?
After a quick look, Paul walks into the room with his hands in his pockets.
Dracos glances back, recognizing Huitz and nodding. "Looking better, man."
Dracos
Paul: This place is way too boring and stable to be out of your dream.
Regardless, Paul enters the room, and a few minutes later, a (very sleepy looking) Box-cutter kid joins you. "Please, sit," Richard insists, offering everyone who hasn't refused a cigarette before he continues.
Paul waves his hand to say thanks for the offer, but I don't want one. He sits down and almost immediately puts his elbows on his knees, then his head between his wrists. He holds the position for only a few seconds before sitting up straight again.
The box-cutter kid palms a cigarette, and vanishes it. Richard shrugs, waves a hand (causing the door to close (Philip is not aware of any kind of magical energy in this exchange)), and lights a cigarette for himself.
"So, now, this man tells himself, 'This is simple. I will allow them some time in freedom to heal, and then, I will do my duty, as I am told, and capture them.' This seems simple, yes?
"But it is not. For this man, this puppet -- and this is our second story -- gets word that some terrorists, let us say that their symbol is a hammer, are going to extract vengance on someone they thought was loyal to them. Someone who didn't want anyone to die, as it turns out." Richard looks at the box-cutter kid, who is studying his own shoes with fascination.
"Mm. And then this man does what he can -- he must stop these terrorists, no? Of course. But he is too late.
"Those he was told he had to capture have already stopped the terrorists, and helping eachother instead of stabbing one-another in the back, as they were supposed to.
"This man then, begins to wonder if, perhaps, he doesn't really know who the bad guys are after all?" He takes a deep breath, then blows out his smoke towards an open window. A desk fan pushes it out before it gets in anyone's faces. "What do you think?" he asks.
"I'd say the man knows much but not enough and that there are many many forces going about. Who is good and bad is perhaps, not so simple? We'd like to simply say that the one's telling the man these things are bad, corrupt at the core, but life isn't that simple, is it? They simply see things differently and are, how to put this, more willing to tell tales and sacrifice people to see that their vision of how things are and should be is the only vision."
Dracos
"Then we see eye-to-eye," Richard says, shrugging. "I will tell you then, a third story.
"In this story, the puppet becomes allies with the people he was supposed to capture, if only for a while. In this story, he sends those he should capture off for a train, along with one of his own puppets.
"This puppet is driving a bus, which breaks down. He is knocked unconscious near a train-station, and his savings are stolen from him. Unfortunately, this is a busy train-station, so our captors, they swiftly vanish into the lobby, buying tickets to who-knows-where, because they paid in cash.
"It is a pity, and the man will be in trouble. His supervisors will be very angry." He takes a long drag on his cigarette. "But, the man, this puppet, maybe ... would be taking a step to cut his strings.
"Now we just need to find out. With his strings cut, does he lie still an unmoving, or does he walk on his own? Time will tell."
He shrugs. "It is time for you to go."
The door opens, and the Toms enter. "The transport is ready," they say.
Dracos nodded and quickly fired off a question as he moved to comply, gesturing for the others to get their arses in gear. "Thanks. And good luck. Any chance our bags were retrieved?"
Dracos
"Your things will be sent along," Richard assures you. "Those, too, will need to be studied." BCK follows uncertainly, sticking closest to Paul. The Toms lead you to a large van. It's comfortable looking, at least. Your driver is a shifty-eyed wiry model of a man, who eyes you warily, nodding to someone who can't see it before saying, "Okay," and hanging up his cell-phone.
Dracos leads the group in, sits down near the front of the bus if possible and relaxes, glancing around and analyzing the state of the rest of the group.
"Hum... There are more things in heaven and earth then are dreamed of in our philosophies."
He shakes his head, lying back for the long trip and waiting for them to at least get a little distance between themselves and the interpol place before saying anything more.
Dracos
The van doesn't really have a 'far back', since it has two rows of seats behind the driver. But you sit down and settle in for the ride anyway.
To all of Nathan, Dracos, Paul, and Ginrai:
Knock knock.
~Who's there?~
Dracos
A refusal to participate in a lousy joke. Here's the short summary: the Oracle says that if you help the kid, he'll become a great ally, and if you don't, you'll make a worse enemy. She also says that the Forge and Home Guard have been essentially cut off from contact with the Cabal, so all they can do is work under old orders. Since they need to avoid publicity as much as possible, as long as you stay in the open and the public eye, there's not much they'll risk doing. Don't let anyone get you alone, though.
Oh, and Nathan and I are going to risk our lives in the depths of an abandoned coal mine.
Any questions?
~Cool. Good to know that as due to circumstances largely outside of our control we've already ended up well, 'saving' the kid. Additionally, I think we've just had a run in with Pax's more subtle organization. Interpol, you may have heard of them. Anyhow, we got really lucky as apparently we'd saved the guy-who-was-ordered-to-capture-us' sister during the plane incident, and he's helping us get out from under the easy eye of his bosses who want us captured. I think they are pax, but it could be another branch of Seventh Cabal. Anyhow, we're alive for better or worse and currently being held prisoner by interpol agents on a busride somewhere prior to a planned accidental release. ~
~Oh, and good like with mineshaft. I envy ye blokes, cave exploring is fun.~
Dracos
The Oracle warned that both Pax Arcana and the Cabal have their fingers deep in France's government -- and most of Europe's, for that matter.
Letting that aside... do you believe what you've been told? Because from what you've just said, it sounds to me like you've been cut out and isolated, and are now being kidnapped. Just like the Oracle warned.
Now, do me a favour, and look at the kid.
~Quite possible. But I sincerely doubted our capability when they came to fight our way out. With huitz down and wounded and them having the official position of the police there, it'd simply was better to go along and hope at least they are honest. If it's a ploy well, we'll have to get lucky. Truthfully, if it is one, I don't see why they'd bother. They could've simply either offed us or used the fact that we were separated, wounded, and associated with a terrorist bombing to go ahead and easily send us where-ever.~
Dracos turns his head, relaxing and glancing over the BCK.
Dracos
Bjorn slides behind Drac's eyes, studying the BCK kid carefully and memorizing his face, before pulling back to the mindboard. Maybe because of concerns about witnesses. Maybe they only control part of Interpol, and the other side has the police. Maybe they left it up to their agent, and their agent has a sick ailing grandmother in the hospital he didn't want to endanger. You don't know who you're dealing with, what they want, or the means they have available to them. Stop making assumptions, and start acting to save yourself. I'm assuming Paul isn't wounded at the moment, so get the hell out of now, unless you're damn certain you're safe.
Anyways. Unless you have questions for either me or the Oracle, then I need to know what colour our pieces were in Paul's dreams, and anything else Paul knows about the kid. Let's get it done quickly, so you can save your asses and we can save ours.
Phil: Having mental awareness, you are entirely aware of Bjorn actually looking out through your eyes, and it's actually somewhat creepy. But, you guess, he knows what the BCK looks like, now.
<Which pieces, now? We were white, the kid was red... the other player's were black, and there we a bunch of other colors, too, all over the board.>
Apart from the brain-phone conversation, Paul nudges the BCK, and whispers.
"So, uh, thanks for the save. I didn't know if I was going to make it. I've never been shot before.
"This is kinda wierd, considering we both already saved each other's lives, but... I never caught your name."
Rez sticks his nose in.
Drac, quick note for you: our phones are off, and they're staying off until we're well away from here, so if you need us email's your best bet. Ahhm . . . dammit, there was something else and I forgot it. Typical.
~In that case...Bjorn, mind attempting this for a bit every night around... oh 9 pm or so? Just as a touch base? We're going to, regardless of how things go, be not easily communicatable otherwise.~
Dracos
"Oh! That reminds me. We found some assault rifles and all . . . does anyone actually want me to bring a couple, or are we all safe and secure in our combat effectiveness?"
~...~
Dracos exudes speechlessness.
Dracos
Alright, enough already. I'll connect again tomorrow. Try not to get yourselves killed or caught.
And with that, Bjorn pulls the mindboard back.
"Namida Tetsuo," the kid says quietly, eyeing the driver mistrustfully. The driver ignores him, continuing the van's leisurely roll through the city, and from there, onto a south-bound highway. He blinks, and scowls, turning to face you. Shaking his head, he says, "Namida is family name. Is my family name." He's got a pretty obvious accent. "You are ... the one who came to ..." he trails off, and strugles for a bit. "Yume?" he asks.
Paul continues to whisper, even though Tetsuo has spoken aloud; he doesn't know if there might be things he doiesn't want the driver hearing. "I don't know what you mean by Yume, unless Yume is the name of your house. I came to you there. Or at least, what you dreamed of as your house.
"My name is..." Paul considers for a second. He does havetwo names now, an 'outer' and an 'inner', and for a second he wonders if he should be telling others the inner one. "... Paul Durant. Uh, Durant is my family name in that one."
Dracos waits for a pause in their conversation, glancing over Uns. "Hey Paul, how you doing? I didn't exactly see what had happened to you during that fight, but you looked pretty damn bad when we got down there."
Dracos
"I... I don't know. I got fucking shot. Everything went all indistinct, like I was watching a TV covered in Vaseline, and listening to sounds underwater. I remember being dragged to safety. I remember the men coming out on the balcony. I remember singing. Then... I woke up, and suddenly I'm fine, except for this dull ache."
"Hmm..." Dracos nodded. "Better than it could've been. Take care of yourself though until that goes away."
Dracos leaned back, glancing out the window and taking a gander at the scenary if he can see any of it.
Dracos
"Durant," the kid mumbles, nodding. "Yume, dream."
The scenery is pretty generic, as it's already the dark of evening. The driver is humming to himself tunelessly. One thing you do see is a satchel with quite a bit of money stuffed into it. If your exchange rates are correct, then there's about four thousand dollars in euros in a bag the driver left on his passenger seat.
Tetsuo starts checking himself out, like he's expecting to find a grevious injury his body just forgot to inform him about. After a minute of prodding his arms, legs, and running a hand over what he can reach of his own back, he settles down, but still seems not to trust the driver.
Dracos considers and then relaxes, leaning back and getting as comfortable as possible to rest himself for the eventual chaos later.
Dracos
Time passes.
The four of you remain completely silent until the driver (in some city you didn't catch the name of) pulls over next to a train station, yawns expansively, and then opens the door.
Dracos stood up, stretched, and nodded at the guy. "Thanks for the help."
He gestured to the others, getting the sack of money and quickly doing an eye survey of the bus to see if they'd gotten their bags aboard by any chance. "Move it folks."
Dracos
The driver makes a point of not watching you enter the station; the BCK stays a few steps behind Paul, and continually looks around like he's expecting someone to leap out of the shadows and bite him.
Dracos quickly surveys the station, examining those around and looking for the ticket purchasing office.
Dracos
Paul walks out with his hands in his pockets and tries his hardest to look nonchalant despite the fact that he's quite recently been shot, passed out, spirited off to the shadow-world of conspiracies, spirited back, and given a fat sack of cash money.
There's a lot of people here, given that it's mid-evening. Pretty big station, too, with trains leading everywhere. You see security cameras, but not many of them. A place this old looks like it's slipped a short distance through the electronic eye of big-brother, for the moment.
Shouldn't be too hard getting far away before they realize you're gone.
Paul: You know you've got to be blending better than Tetsuo, who looks like a panicky, jumpy, tourist.
Yawning, Ginrai keeps up with the others, patiently waiting for the arrival of their train.
"I wonder if we'll end up riding one of those double-decker trains I recall seeing from the last time I was at France, which was early '87. Never did get a chance to ride on one then and hope to do so this time around since I'm unsure of the next chance I'll get."
Dracos looks for the board of train destinations, looking specifically for trains leaving shortly as he gets in whatever line there is before the ticket seller.
Dracos
You very quickly find a train leaving in five minutes to some location in Germany. Passport required.
Dracos frowned, he had his passport in his wallet, but he didn't know about the others. Glancing back he gestured them in quickly and asked, "Do you guys have your passports on you?"
Dracos
If not, then the passports are still in their luggage. Tetsuo grumbles a bit, but finds his own bag was snagged along with your own. After digging for a moment he produces a passport from it.
Dracos nods and goes to purchase tickets. Assuming he can get four sleeper tickets he does so, otherwise he goes with what he can get.
Then he proceeds to get the flock onto the train, keeping the money bag with him for now.
Dracos
Everyone's jammed onto the train, and ferried off towards: Frankfurt.
Which is known for a number of things, one of them being its distinct lack of being Gibraltar. Still, after the harrowing battle, Phil and Parthipan find themselves a bit tired. Tetsuo and Paul (having been recently healed) aren't as sleepy.
The train takes a moment longer than you'd like to leave the station, but it's shortly underway.
Dracos sets the moneybag behind him and leans back to get some rest. "If any of you are staying up, wake me when we get there."
He proceeds to get as comfortable as possible while retaining the clear premise that he'd have to be moved if someone was to try and swipe the money while he was asleep. Probably uncomfortable, but he's been in more miserable sleeping environments by far.
Dracos
Time passes, even Tetsuo and Paul succumbing to the siren call of sleep....
When you wake up, about 20% of your money is gone, along with Tetsuo, and his bags. There have been about three stops between your departure, and your next stop (Frankfort).
After a quick search of the car, a note has been left on Paul (in his jacket pocket), along with a small oragami crane. The note has some hastily scribbled Japanese on it, which Ginrai vaguely remembers (he thinks) as reading, "thank you" in the most polite form.
The English part of the note reads:I am in debt, but not friend. No more anger between us. Maybe they chase me, and you get away? Good lucks to you.
"Damn! So, we still continue to Frankfurt?"
"What else would we do? We helped him. We knew he wouldn't be coming with us all the way. The Oracle said that might become our ally... and in any case, I think we did the right thing."
Dracos scratches his chin.
"Actually, I think the guy had the right idea. Let's get off at the next stop and switch to a different train. Or start hiking south."
Assuming no complaints, Dracos waits for the next stop.
Dracos
OOC: If you guys disagree, say so. ^_^
The next stop is the last stop. You get off the train in lovely scenic downtown Frankfurt.
Dracos leads the way off, stopping in the train station to look for a map of the area, being largely unfamiliar with German countryside or cityside.
Dracos
You manage to find a few tourist-oriented areas that offer local (and country) maps.
They seem to indicate that you're a long way from Gibraltar.
Dracos is...unsurprised. But begins plotting out a route on the maps to get to gibraltar. And if there is a handy dandy food spot nearby, leads the group to at least get a decent meal while this is being done.
Dracos
Bus, Train, Walk, trying to figure out a few routes.
It's morning, you're hungry ... welcome to the tourist trap. There's a hot-dog resturaunt (of the walk-in-and-sit down variety, as this is, you know, Frankfurt) across the street. You've still got a stack of euros.
Dracos heads in, sits down in a booth if it's seat yourself, or waits and tries to get a booth if it's wait to be seated. Either way once there he orders a couple of hefty hot dogs and starts persuing the maps.
Dracos
Things don't actually get as far as you'd probably like.
Once you're through the doorway, a waitress stares at you, looks at a nearby sign (which happens to have your picture, along with something in German and an English: "Frankfurt Welcomes Abe Frohman, the Sausage King of Chicago!") then says in faintly accented English, "Your private dining room is ready, Mr. Frohman."
Dracos blinks and glances at Huitz out of the corner of his eyes.
~Thoughts? Could be a trap or could be genuine mistaken identity or could be someone else trying to contact us.~
Dracos
<There's no way it could be mistaken identity. Where it's a trap or someone else trying to contact us... I dunno, flip a coin.>
~I like hot dogs.~
Dracos smiled and went along with the whole deal, following the waitress to the room curiously.
Dracos
There's two other people inside the private dining room. Kind of odd for a breakfast when you think about it, but....
Everyone recognizes one of the two people at the table without the need to roll. It's Phil, of course (though, the one at the table does not have green eyes). He appears to be absorbed in chatting in a very 'we're-in-love' kind of way with someone it takes Phil and Parthipan a minute to realize they last saw wearing a nurse's outfit.
The doors close behind you, and the not-Dracos looks up, smiling. "How nice to see me again," he says.
"Indeed, unfortunately I appear not to remember ye." Dracos smiles back, idly relaxing his arms at his sides.
Dracos
"Wow, I guess blowing up San Francisco kind of fades into the memory after a week or three," not-Dracos remarks, raising an eyebrow. The nurse (now dressed in casual, if expensive looking clothes) giggles.
"I've come representing my employers, since you seem set on making a fuss wherever you go...."
"Ah, I should've guessed immediately. Many apologies. It's been a rough time." Dracos sat down, "Mind if we enjoy some food while explain what your employers would like us to hear?"
Dracos
"So, wait, is this the cloney-guy you told me about?"
"I suppose I am," the girl answers Paul, winking.
"Help yourself," not-Phil replies, gesturing to what amounts to a small buffet before you. "There's enough to go around, I'm sure."
Judging by the plates before Caber (both of them) they elected not to wait for you.
Dracos gets some hot dogs and starts eating, listening to Caber.
Dracos
Paul examines the available food for some Italian Sausage, the sainted, holy king of all meats.
Paul: It's in rare supply, but still on the table. Evidently they wanted to show off the local sausages more....
"So, my employers have sent me here to tell you that it's not too late. You could join us, if you wanted; judging by your repeated run-ins with the Seventh Cabal, you're already opposed to them. What was before may have been an act of convenience, but now we could establish something more long-term.
"But, we'd like your cooperation willingly. We won't force your hand.
"There's rather little likelyhood of you winning, you understand. You've only drawn up your own death warrants by joining the Contest. Actually undertaking that first task will be signing it.
"If you're willing to give up the Contest and help us fight the Seventh Cabal, we can see to if that you and your friends are not among those who will be purged.
"Maybe even money, power ... whatever you'd like."
Not-Phil shrugs, sipping some tea from a cup.
"Pretty much anything you can imagine can be provided," the girl adds. "We've got resources. We've been established for centuries. You're just upstarts that've come along in the final minutes of the last quarter. Maybe the Cabal will make you another offer.
"And maybe they won't.
"But you're going to need to pick a side, because there's only enough room in this game for two players. And if you don't choose, you'll be squashed like a bug."
Dracos nodded as he polished off another couple of hot dogs and leaned back, folding his hands slightly as he pondered.
"Well, that's an intriguing offer you make there. Join and get vengeance against those who've screwed with us royally or be squashed like bugs. And you are even throwing in protection for our friends. Most generous of you. And anything we want? Hum, I always wanted to try an arabian harem. And you raise an excellent point, both of your groups have quite a bit of networking. Surprised one of you wasn't running the FBI back in the US. Would've made things considerably easier on getting in contact with us the first time."
Dracos smiled.
"It is something to ponder, I must admit. Especially with the purging and all. I must admit, I do sometimes ponder how nice it would be to eliminate all that excess waste around this planet. Of course, you do more than ponder, don't you? Silicon Valley was your handywork, right?"
Dracos
Paul takes a bite of the Italian sausage, chewing thoughtfully.
"Kind of generous of you to make an offer like that, especially if you're so sure we're going to lose anyway. Now me, I always wanted to have a bulldozer. Wouldn't even use it to build anything, I'd take it out on the highway and listen to the cars honking at me.
"But what would be the use in having a bulldozer if there's nobody around to watch me drive it, you dig?"
"Moffet?" the girl asks. "In some senses." Not-Phil sets down his tea cup.
"Work is work," he says with a shrug. "I don't engineer everything I do. What is a legionare without someone to give him orders?
"A harem is easily possible. But we know about you Philip "Dracos" Bloom. You hate idiodicy and weakness as much as we. Are you willing to put your money where your mouth is, and actually do something about it?"
"Or will you just remain a petulant whiner?" the girl asks, then turning her attention to Paul. "And surely you think there's a good number of people the world could do without. I'm sure it'd survive just fine with certain less desirables purged."
"Think of it not really as much as purging as a filtering," not-Phil suggests, grinning. "We flush all the dross out of the system, ensuring a well-running machine. You like nature, right? You're teaming up with Ezmereth, and if there was ever a granola-loving hippie, it'd be him.
"And there's a certain balance here -- just like in nature. If you don't flush the bad parts out of the system, they lead to its death. No one is actually prepared to fight the Enemy. No one even tried, except for the Workshop, and now, well, they're gone."
Not-Phil shrugs again, and takes another sip of his tea.
Into the minds of all of Paul, Ginrai, and Dracos:
This a bad time?
~Quite. We're in...discussion with Caber, and unless you think it's safe to contact us from wherever you are and potentially be listened in on and tracked, I think it might be better to wait for later.~
Dracos smiled. "Quite right. You are fairly efficient. And I am a believer of obliterating the crap. Mmm... But, I do not think you do such. Or at least not with any precision. A blow that strikes the good with the bad is a bad blow to deliver. The world could use a surgeon's blade but not the unskilled bombs you guys seem to drop on it. I agree in premise, but not in execution. You can consider this squemish, but when can't even be bothered to separate the good from the bad in a single easy operation, what's the point in assuming you'll...guarentee the safety of those we'd like to protect? If you know a lot about us, you'd know that such an offer would fail soundly. To paul, it would seem a fool's bargain. Too close to many he's seen before and therefore almost certainly two-faced. To me, it would clearly lack in precision and would indicate a lack of...understanding of my motives and movements in the past. To Gin, well, there's many obvious reasons he'd side with nature over mass killings. All of this though would be...easily researchable."
Dracos drained a cup of water and wiped his hands. "So, sorry to dissappoint. I assume the foods not drugged as that would just alienate us if we agreed, so how many of your legion is going to waste their energy to make sure we all die here? Or are you perhaps going to let us continue for a while and kill us if we get too successful? Perhaps hoping we'll do some damage to Seventh cabal who is...ahead of you at the moment?"
Dracos slowly stood up.
Dracos
"I hadn't realized you were so quick to leap to conclusions," not-Phil says dryly. "We hardly intend to throw out the baby with the bathwater. And mistaking a specific task for our entire methodology is ... innacurate, to say the least.
"We're not going to just blow up everyone we don't like. We'll systematically choose the weakest-minded, the weakest will, the infirm, those with destructive tendancies. We strike with surgical precision, and eliminate the undesirables from the world at large."
"Of course, on other matters," the girl says to Paul, then turning to Parthipan. "If you haven't the spine to stand up for yourselves under Bloom's ... 'draconian' guidance ... you can always part ways with him and join us of your own volition. You're not chained to him."
"You," Paul points to Phil, "shut up. I don't like it when people talk abotu me like I'm not even here."
"What I like even less is people who think that they alone posess the wisdom to know what's right for the world, and that it somehow gives them the right to do whatever they want. That gets my dander up."
Both not-Phil and the girl turn to look at Parthipan expectantly.
Ginrai calmly stands up. "Honestly, elmininating the world's undesireables? If that's the case, why don't your superiors set an example and kill themselves, *especially* if they're the ones that came up with this ludicrous plan that basically amounts to placing the world within a bottle."
"Don't shoot the messenger," not-Phil retorts. "I was pretty sure that's what you were gonna say, but hey. Make of it what you will.
"For what it's worth, we're not going to hunt you down, or try to get in your way. We're also not going to help you out if you don't want to be a part of our team."
The girl sighs, and drums her fingertips on the table-top. "And thanks for not killing me. That's always an annoyance."
Not-Phil rises from the table, shrugs, and says, "Enjoy your meal, it's already been paid for." He starts walking towards the door, the girl quickly following him. "Oh," he says, pausing, and turning to look at the three of you again. "Before I forget, if you change your mind, just ask your friend Ayame to send us an e-mail. She'll know how."
"Hmm..." Dracos looks thoughtful, "I see. A...fortunate day to you, Caber. Thanks for the meal."
Dracos sat back down to enjoy the rest of the meal.
Dracos
Whistling a jaunty tune, not-Phil puts an arm around the waist of the girl he's with, and walks out the door.
You're now left alone with a massive array of sausages, mustards, breads, and numerous other assorted condiments. There's a few clearly labeled tofu, turkey, and other assorted 'not true sausages' on a smaller platter to one side, and some water in a pitcher.
" 'Don't look a gift sausage in the mouth', I always say.
"I'm not sure if he was telling the truth about not trying to kill us, but if they're gonna go after us, they're gonna go after us whether we eat the sausage or not. And I looooooves me some Italian sausage."
"That, Paul, is because you have taste."
Dracos promptly swipes one of the italian sausages and continues eating.
Dracos
Finishing the meal, Dracos leads the leaden unleaderlike party folks outside and sees about finding busing or trains towards Spain for starters.
Dracos
You can get to Spain a number of different ways, but trains appear to be the most popular for those without cars.
Trains it is then, provided the euros they have can afford the train trip for all three of them!
Dracos
Your euros suffice. You find yourselves in a city in the southern portion of Spain at around 11:00 PM the next evening.
Dracos looks around for lodgings and a net cafe. Preferrably nearby to each other.
Dracos
Both are availible in Madrid, and you find them in short order.
"Hey Gin, why don't you guys go reserve a room for the night, then you come get me at this cafe. I'm going to drop rez and bjorn a line."
Dracos
"Sounds good to me. I take it that we still can't use the cell phones?"
Ginrai waits for an answer before heading off with Paul to find a place to stay for the night.
"Just don't. For now."
Dracos
"Okay. Remember to ask Bjorn when we can use it again."
Ginrai and Paul then leave to begin their search.
"So, Dr. Swarthy, how is the money holding up? Should we be looking for the Marriott or the Motel 6?"
OOC: The house rocks on.
IC:
Dracos headed into the internet cafe and paid for an hour. Sitting down he checked out the resources available at the machine while loading up hotmail.
Dracos
It's an internet browsing cafe, not a gaming cafe, that's for certain. But you can access pretty much any website from here.
After email, Dracos does what any lazy gamer would do...
>_>
Not.
He checks the news sites. Specifically the English ones. Trying to figure out what news has been released about what happened over the last week or so.
Dracos
The news is generally pretty quiet. No lives were lost, so people forgot about it pretty quickly, especially since the 'heroes' refused interviews with anyone except authorities.
No mention of anything going on at the hospital Ginrai and Tetsuo were staying at.
Dracos checks on the weather in Gibraltar for the next week or so and the general modes of transportation to get there.
Dracos
The weather is looking to be rainy, and then progressively more stormy as time goes on.
Transport to Gibraltar is availible via train, plane, boat, bus, and car. Some even offer comprehensive tourist packages including options such as: Seeing the rock. Hiking onto the rock. Fishing (from the rock). Paragliding (far away from it, and any other rocks). And the wonderful Gibraltean cuizine availible at their three shopping malls's respective food courts.
Dracos checks out the rates for each as well as examines the maps so he can get a good feel for the area.
Dracos
You find some information (http://www.gibraltar.gi/).
Dracos spends the rest of the time reading the info then checks his email for anything interesting before logging off.
Dracos
"Hoping for the former since I want a good night's sleep, but...." Ginrai checks how much money he has.
Well, since Phil walked off with the satchel with all the money in it, Parthipan finds in his pockets about 50$ US. Which he's been carrying since he left home, all those weeks ago.
Hmm.
Ginrai places a hand on his forehead, muttering, "God fucking dammit!"
Turning to Paul, he says, "Seems that Phil took all the money with him and unless you think it's a good idea to take a chance and use my credit card, we'll have to go back and get some money from him."
"I wouldn't use credit cards so soon after the bad guys met up with us... looks like we gotta go yell at Phil."
Paul changes the direction of his sauntering to the Internet cafe, should he actually know where that is.
"Agreed," Ginrai replies as he changes directions and heads back to where Phil was.
Since you actually watched Phil walk away and into yon internet cafe, this takes very little time. You meet up with him as he's exiting the building.
"Hey, Phil, next time you send us out on an errand to find a place to stay remember to give us some money!"
"Eh? Sheesh, man, you guys are how old and need me to remember to dish out the cash for ya?"
Dracos shakes his head and gestures to follow him, heading to the hotel and see about procuring lodgings.
Dracos
Lodgings are procured. It's now about 11:00 AM, you've completely lost track of the day, and you're in Madrid, Spain.
Dracos sees about getting on a tour boat to gibraltar.
Dracos
This is made difficult due to the fact that Madrid is very nearly the central-most point of Spain. Making if very far from the oceans.
You'd need to take a train or a bus (or rent a car) to get to a port that offers tours of Gibraltar via boat.
Dracos sees about taking a bus to gibraltar. If not, a train. He doesn't want to leave a paper trail if possible, no matter how little that really matters.
Draco
Trains are readily availible. You could get on one in as few as twenty minutes, leaving your comfortable hotel room behind to confuse pursuers.
"Guys, if we are going to go to Gibraltar now I do think we should at least make sure we take any necessary items with us. This is assuming that we're leaving our luggages here. And if that's the case I *really* want to have my stone knife with me."
"We aren't leaving our luggage, baka. Now move it."
Dracos gets the crew on a train out of there, leaving the room behind as a false trail.
Dracos
Once more, you're aboard a train, and headed towards ... GIBRALTAR!
You arrive in Gibraltar at about 5:30 PM, GMT. Nothing untoward happened, thankfully.
However, the train does not actually go to Gibraltar. It stops about 100 meters short of the border, which happens to also be the country's single airstrip.
You must walk the remaining hundred meters to the customs office, have your baggage checked, and then walk across the airport runway (there is a conveniently located crosswalk and traffic light).
Then, however, you're in the city. It boasts a population of 30,000, and looks it, too. The rock looms overhead, and seems larger than life. You're not sure how the people in the city can go without at least glancing at it every second or so -- it's massive. It seems to tower miles overhead and glare down at you.
Philip: You see the rock twice. Once massively huge, and one moderately smaller (but still very, very, very big). Additionally, your eyesight can make out twisting threads of magic that seem to funnel in from ... everywhere, and into the rock (both the 'real' one, and the much larger 'illusory' one), though they are far to complex for you to ascertain their purpose.
Dracos looks for a place to stay. Preferrably somewhat small and near the mountain.
Dracos
No matter where you stay in this place, you're going to be near the mountain. You do find a smallish bed-and-breakfast tucked away, probably a kilometer away from the governer's mansion, though. It has a few rooms availible, and since this is a poor season for tourists, offers good rates, as well.
Dracos gets set up there somewhat, and provided none of the others want to join him, leaves his stuff with them in the room and heads out to take a walk near the mountain, sightseeing!
Dracos
Ginrai takes the knife out of his luggage and puts it in his pocket.
"So, Paul, feel like heading off with Phil to check out the area?"
"Sure, it's what we're here for, ain't it? Let's go take in the sights. Hell, let's go get ourselves a nice dinner while we're at it. I don't wanna die with a stomach full of Taco Bell."
"Got that right." Ginrai gets ready to go sightseeing with Phil and Paul.
Ginrai: the knife blade is about 20 CM long, so it doesn't fit into a pocket easily ... however, you do see a few citizens walking around with knives on their belts, so apparently it's legal to carry them around openly in this country. In fact, it might only be illegal to conceal it, for all you know.
It takes the work of a moment to secure the scabbard (where did that come from?) to your belt and tuck the knife away. No one glances at it twice.
Once you're out and about, the rock is above, painted various shades of the color of blood from the setting sun. Looks amazing.
"Woooow," says Paul, neck craned upward to look at the stone. "I really never thought a rock could be so..."
He trails off and does not complete the sentence.
Dracos, long inured to the beauty of nature and pretty much everything by overexposure, nods, admiring the view, but also keeping an eye out for a good net-cafe and food areas, as well as forms of local transportation.
Dracos
"Maybe we should first e-mail Rez and Bjorn to tell them that we're finally at Gibraltar?"
You shortly find an internet cafe. Offers a good view of the rock, too, though it's going to be dark soon.
It's on the second story of a building -- it also offers games, if the signs are to be believed....
Dracos heads in for a sec to check the prices.
Dracos
You see something marginally more important than a list of prices, in all honesty. You see Nathan and Bjorn.
Ordinary Days now comes to an end, and moves on to join Seasons in the Sun (http://pishoque.net/phpBB2/viewtopic.php?p=32069#32069).