1.8 Face Off 1
- Location
- USA
"This is never going to work," you complain.
Your brother gives you a long suffering stare.
"I bade you stop moving. This needle is tiny. My hands swallow it entire. You move when you talk. Stop, please."
"Oh, I'm very aware of exactly how big that needle is. I think, at this point, it may legally be one of my bones. Isn't that how it works? If something is thrust into your body that often and that forcefully it-"
You break off the statement, aware that Yurn's gaze has a trace of pity inside it.
"I know you don't screw, boss, but you should maybe read some books or something. I'm not sure you ken how you sound betimes."
You roll your eyes, moving just a bit as you do so, only to flinch as Yurn contrives to get the needle stuck into your side again.
"Of all the times for Mwekkum to be gone," grumbles Yurn. "Wee man would have finished with this by now, and it would look twice as good."
You privately agree with the sentiment. Tonight is the Face Off for the upcoming Carnival, so you have to venture once more into Blender Plex.
In a nice suit, jacket and all.
Finding one that was big enough was hard. Finding one, on your budget, that was big enough and had 4 arms, impossible. So you'd made holes in the lining, and Yurn was trying to attach extra arms to the suit.
He stitched about as well as he coached, which is to say, without any particular expertise, but with lots of enthusiasm.
"I hoped he'd be done by now," you confess.
It's been two months since you sent Mwek off to spy on the Way. You are halfway to your first match, and one of your oldest friends can't be around. It kinda bites.
At least you know that nothing's happened to him. His reports continue to arrive, on schedule. He's managed to get himself placed inside of Baron Tell-Me-So's administrative corps.
The Baron is one of the most prominent recipients of the outsider's largesse. His forces have tripled in number and their equipment is immaculate, despite the fact that you straight up routed them last Winter.
Mwek's reports indicated, in fact, that it had taken more than just resources to offset the seasonal edge. The Benefactor, as the Way told it, had literally brought in outside forces, mercs from another area of the outlands.
That definitely eliminates some suspects. The stream scrapers, for instance. You could imagine some pissed off journos scraping together some scratch and sending it as a 'charitable donation' to this particular stretch of nowhere. It is a lot harder to imagine the chumps whose mics you'd jacked sitting down with hired killers.
His reports also go into a lot of self-congratulatory details about how he's impeding the Way's efforts. To hear Mwek tell it, the information he's leaking to your Wild contemporaries is all that's standing between the Lair and those who would level it.
You are a bit skeptical of the second part. Sure, the data is probably helping, but in an earlier letter he let slip something about the Baron's officers having a gambling pool all setup. They were apparently all rubes and gulls, and he'd given the impression that he'd be taking it upon himself to get some of the other side's-
"Gah!"
*If you didn't move so much, he'd probably be done by-*
You glower at the mirror, noting the ragged stitching at the base of the new sleeves with dismay. Yurn's hangdog expression conveys that he's under no illusions about how well he's doing at this.
The door swings wide as Milos and Wyke troop in. Milos is, of course, looking spiffy in a particularly ornate and perfectly tailored suit. Wyke remains an enigma swathed in dark robes.
"We are moving the meeting in here, boss," says Milos, cheerfully. "We don't want to fall behind schedule now."
"The gathering tonight will be a veritable feast of data," intones Wyke. "As I cannot attend, you will need to do your best in my stead."
"There will also be Booking opportunities. The Bookers won't be there, but-"
"Wait, the Bookers won't be there?" you demand, "Then why are you in the full getup?"
Milos looks momentarily bewildered.
"This is a meeting," he says, sounding scandalized, "we aren't ALL brigands."
*Hehehe*
"First off," he says, getting back on track, "We've got the other Boxers themselves. Gowa being here means that there will be some Pack presence. Got to escort the Young Master and all that. It's hard to predict which lower level guys will be around to stand next to him and look imposing, but I assume there will be at least a few low starred Pack members lurking around. Antagonizing any of them might make their Bookers more amenable to a quick bout with us."
"At the two star level the most likely candidates are Amen-hake 'The Early-Riser', Jhesh 'Night Night', Gemposin 'Lotto', Suvvekka 'Ambusher', Predatorio 'Engineered Disaster', Fzenpu 'The Third Plague', or Millburne General Stores 'The Consequence'," intones Wyke, emotionlessly.
"What about the higher ups?"
"Wouldn't stun me if Mour is there for a 'passing the torch' kind of thing," says Milos, frowning slightly. "He's made a big deal about Gowa, and the faction leader being there would kind of emphasize that this guy is the future."
Mour, 'Devour' Clougher is the founder and leader of the Pack. He's one of the only people in the Four that, in the privacy of your mind, you think would have a decent shot at beating you. Definitely stronger than the Champ or any of her Guardians, with the possible exception of Rika. He's only stayed in the Four as long as he has for faction reasons.
*Could also be the Deputy Leader. If Mour isn't one hundred percent certain that Gowa can win he might not want to risk showing up himself. Would be fucking embarrassing to be ringside if Tully shows their guy the lights.*
"Turn about, brother," asks Yurn, and you comply, letting him get at the sleeves on the other side of you.
Milos and Wyke move across the room to stay in front of you, resulting in a brief synchronized near-dance that an outside observer would probably have found entertaining.
"With the Pack in attendance, the Flock might well make an appearance."
You frown at Milos.
"I don't know," you say, "The Flock's whole posture is that they are not the aggressors, right? Their story is that they formed in response to the Pack bullying individual Boxers. That doesn't really square with showing up and making trouble at a Pack promotion event."
"Things change," he answers, "And nearly any act of aggression can be justified as payback. The Pack does no end of obnoxious things, they could just pick one and 'get revenge' at this event."
"So, if that happens, what am I looking at?"
The two of them confer for a moment, before Wyke gives answer.
"Probably some kind of property damage, maybe some spectacle. Wouldn't be surprised to see them rush the stage, try to steal the stream's focus from the official Face Off to their shenanigans. No physical danger to you, but it would interrupt whatever conversation you were trying to have."
"Is there an opportunity for me here?"
They confer again, while Yurn mumbles apologies and fishes for another needle.
"The Pack and the Flock don't really have a lot of use for independent Boxers, particularly not those stronger than their rank and file. They are symbiotic, two factions locked in a perpetual feud. If you wanted to be part of it, you'd have to join one side or the other. If you don't do that, they don't have a lot of incentive to mess with you."
"Joining them, though," says Milos, "Would be short term good, long term bad. You'd get a slew of medium star matches, the mentorship of some Boxers you are probably better than, and almost certainly some scratch. It would take up some of your time and energy, and you'd almost certainly have to do some politicking before you graduated."
"We could really use some short term scratch though," you say, thinking guiltily of the Wild's outnumbered defenders fighting their off-seasonal battle.
"About that," says Milos, "In addition to a lot of Boxers there, there will be a fuckton of sponsors lurking around."
*No doubt. Eight Boxers in one building, including you and Gowa? Rich folks gonna be lining up to get a piece of you.*
"Quite probably including our enemy, right?" you ask. "Any chance that prick comes up to me and gives me the old veiled threat routine?"
"Wouldna bet my eye on it," says Yurn. "I ken it someone put some money towards this and put it in their back pocket. After your first match is done, the wind shall send us word from some clever Fixer that we should challenge so-and-so, and lose, if we want their Wealth out of our home."
"But the main thing," says Milos, "Is that the second big thing you should be doing, aside from trying to backchannel the Bookers and work out Bouts with the other Boxers, is trying to sell your sponsorships. Each one would let you take on another Second, or go a ways towards righting the balance in this wilderness."
You rub your top hands together, earning another aggrieved sigh from Yurn.
"How many sponsors are we talking about here?"
"Robe, towel, trunks," lists Wyke, their voice flat and impartial. "Robe is the most important, don't let that go cheap. Towel is second, and trunks are just decals. You can sell space on your trunks over and over, but it won't go for much each time."
"So, getting sponsors and challenging rivals then? Sounds like a great time."
Yurn stops his useless fretting for a sec, catches your attention.
"I dunno about sponsors boss. I scry a lot of folks in the streams dreaming of the life we live. You win their hearts by being nothing like the other boxers. Raw. Authentic. That doesn't collab so well with advertising."
"But I need the money!"
He looks back to his work, seemingly unable or unwilling to expound on his position.
"He has a bit of a point," ventures Milos, "In that you should make sure any sponsors you do pick up fit your brand. You represent a sort of wild, primal force to these watchers. A genuine outlaw from their prehistory. If you end up with anything on your robe, it needs to match that basic vibe."
*I'm kinda with Yurn on this one, actually. I think that as much as people out in the sticks dream of the comforts of the Plexes, it goes the other way too. Everyone can sense the system is confused, incestuous. Boxers taking dives, bribing refs. People could get behind a strong, simple warrior from a better time kind of story. And that guy can't ask them to like-comment-subscribe."
You wave an idle hand, finally stepping away from Yurn as you do so.
"I'll work something out," you say.
You glower at a mirror, then suddenly reach your arms across your torso, taking hold of the hastily stitched seams that join the sleeves
"Dress code said jacket, but didn't say anything about sleeves, right?"
Yurn shakes his head.
You will be participating in a Face Off with Doro 'Messy' Messmacher.
There will be a bunch of journos out front, what will you do with them?
[] Give Interview cooperatively: Lowers Infamy, raises Fame, lowers tensions with the media
[] Give Interview belligerently: Raises infamy slightly, maintains current tensions with the media
[] Disregard them entirely : No effect on infamy, lowers tensions slightly with the media
Inside, there will be a bunch of rich civilians. While the Hall will protect them from direct robbery, there are doubtless ways for you to profit from this situation.
[] Seek a sponsorship, prioritizing the highest paying without regard to what it does to your infamy. (You will get a choice of the highest paying sponsors)
[] Seek a sponsorship, prioritizing the best fit with your infamy without regard to how much they pay. (You will get a choice of the most infamous sponsors.)
[] Seek a sponsorship, balancing reputation and profit. (You will get a choice of the sponsorships with the best balance of infamy and profit.)
[] There must be people who will support the Wild directly if you make them aware of what is going on. Lobby sympathetic figures to counterbalance your enemy's efforts in your home area. (You will meet powerful people on the Green Mana end of the scale, one or more of them may be persuaded to support your allies in the outlands.)
[] Whoever is fucking with you is probably here. Call them out publicly and see if you can shame them into showing themselves. (You will make the interference in your area's cycle public, and potentially have a face off with whoever is behind this.)
[] No particular agenda for this time, just generally find things out. (You will discover a lot of information about the League and the Boxers presently advancing through it. Random chance to find out each of a few secrets currently unknown.)
Before the Face Off proper, the Boxers will be secluded for a bit. Which, if any, other Boxers will you speak privately with? (Choose up to 2, choosing only one will yield a longer conversation)
[] Doro 'Messy' Messmacher (your upcoming opponent)
[] Joel 'Grass Joel' Klobachek (Upcoming opponent of Threnody Silverspoon)
[] Tully 'Charger' Gneiss (Upcoming opponent of Gowa Donahue)
[] Mills 'The Maestro' Noblem (Upcoming opponent of Cthulhu)
[] Threnody 'The Chosen One' Silverspoon (Upcoming opponent of Joel Klobachek)
[] Gowa 'The Young Master' Donahue (Upcoming opponent of Tully Gneiss)
[] Cthulhu (Upcoming opponent of Mills Noblem) [WARNING: ONTOLOGICAL THREAT]
Your brother gives you a long suffering stare.
"I bade you stop moving. This needle is tiny. My hands swallow it entire. You move when you talk. Stop, please."
"Oh, I'm very aware of exactly how big that needle is. I think, at this point, it may legally be one of my bones. Isn't that how it works? If something is thrust into your body that often and that forcefully it-"
You break off the statement, aware that Yurn's gaze has a trace of pity inside it.
"I know you don't screw, boss, but you should maybe read some books or something. I'm not sure you ken how you sound betimes."
You roll your eyes, moving just a bit as you do so, only to flinch as Yurn contrives to get the needle stuck into your side again.
"Of all the times for Mwekkum to be gone," grumbles Yurn. "Wee man would have finished with this by now, and it would look twice as good."
You privately agree with the sentiment. Tonight is the Face Off for the upcoming Carnival, so you have to venture once more into Blender Plex.
In a nice suit, jacket and all.
Finding one that was big enough was hard. Finding one, on your budget, that was big enough and had 4 arms, impossible. So you'd made holes in the lining, and Yurn was trying to attach extra arms to the suit.
He stitched about as well as he coached, which is to say, without any particular expertise, but with lots of enthusiasm.
"I hoped he'd be done by now," you confess.
It's been two months since you sent Mwek off to spy on the Way. You are halfway to your first match, and one of your oldest friends can't be around. It kinda bites.
At least you know that nothing's happened to him. His reports continue to arrive, on schedule. He's managed to get himself placed inside of Baron Tell-Me-So's administrative corps.
The Baron is one of the most prominent recipients of the outsider's largesse. His forces have tripled in number and their equipment is immaculate, despite the fact that you straight up routed them last Winter.
Mwek's reports indicated, in fact, that it had taken more than just resources to offset the seasonal edge. The Benefactor, as the Way told it, had literally brought in outside forces, mercs from another area of the outlands.
That definitely eliminates some suspects. The stream scrapers, for instance. You could imagine some pissed off journos scraping together some scratch and sending it as a 'charitable donation' to this particular stretch of nowhere. It is a lot harder to imagine the chumps whose mics you'd jacked sitting down with hired killers.
His reports also go into a lot of self-congratulatory details about how he's impeding the Way's efforts. To hear Mwek tell it, the information he's leaking to your Wild contemporaries is all that's standing between the Lair and those who would level it.
You are a bit skeptical of the second part. Sure, the data is probably helping, but in an earlier letter he let slip something about the Baron's officers having a gambling pool all setup. They were apparently all rubes and gulls, and he'd given the impression that he'd be taking it upon himself to get some of the other side's-
"Gah!"
*If you didn't move so much, he'd probably be done by-*
You glower at the mirror, noting the ragged stitching at the base of the new sleeves with dismay. Yurn's hangdog expression conveys that he's under no illusions about how well he's doing at this.
The door swings wide as Milos and Wyke troop in. Milos is, of course, looking spiffy in a particularly ornate and perfectly tailored suit. Wyke remains an enigma swathed in dark robes.
"We are moving the meeting in here, boss," says Milos, cheerfully. "We don't want to fall behind schedule now."
"The gathering tonight will be a veritable feast of data," intones Wyke. "As I cannot attend, you will need to do your best in my stead."
"There will also be Booking opportunities. The Bookers won't be there, but-"
"Wait, the Bookers won't be there?" you demand, "Then why are you in the full getup?"
Milos looks momentarily bewildered.
"This is a meeting," he says, sounding scandalized, "we aren't ALL brigands."
*Hehehe*
"First off," he says, getting back on track, "We've got the other Boxers themselves. Gowa being here means that there will be some Pack presence. Got to escort the Young Master and all that. It's hard to predict which lower level guys will be around to stand next to him and look imposing, but I assume there will be at least a few low starred Pack members lurking around. Antagonizing any of them might make their Bookers more amenable to a quick bout with us."
"At the two star level the most likely candidates are Amen-hake 'The Early-Riser', Jhesh 'Night Night', Gemposin 'Lotto', Suvvekka 'Ambusher', Predatorio 'Engineered Disaster', Fzenpu 'The Third Plague', or Millburne General Stores 'The Consequence'," intones Wyke, emotionlessly.
"What about the higher ups?"
"Wouldn't stun me if Mour is there for a 'passing the torch' kind of thing," says Milos, frowning slightly. "He's made a big deal about Gowa, and the faction leader being there would kind of emphasize that this guy is the future."
Mour, 'Devour' Clougher is the founder and leader of the Pack. He's one of the only people in the Four that, in the privacy of your mind, you think would have a decent shot at beating you. Definitely stronger than the Champ or any of her Guardians, with the possible exception of Rika. He's only stayed in the Four as long as he has for faction reasons.
*Could also be the Deputy Leader. If Mour isn't one hundred percent certain that Gowa can win he might not want to risk showing up himself. Would be fucking embarrassing to be ringside if Tully shows their guy the lights.*
"Turn about, brother," asks Yurn, and you comply, letting him get at the sleeves on the other side of you.
Milos and Wyke move across the room to stay in front of you, resulting in a brief synchronized near-dance that an outside observer would probably have found entertaining.
"With the Pack in attendance, the Flock might well make an appearance."
You frown at Milos.
"I don't know," you say, "The Flock's whole posture is that they are not the aggressors, right? Their story is that they formed in response to the Pack bullying individual Boxers. That doesn't really square with showing up and making trouble at a Pack promotion event."
"Things change," he answers, "And nearly any act of aggression can be justified as payback. The Pack does no end of obnoxious things, they could just pick one and 'get revenge' at this event."
"So, if that happens, what am I looking at?"
The two of them confer for a moment, before Wyke gives answer.
"Probably some kind of property damage, maybe some spectacle. Wouldn't be surprised to see them rush the stage, try to steal the stream's focus from the official Face Off to their shenanigans. No physical danger to you, but it would interrupt whatever conversation you were trying to have."
"Is there an opportunity for me here?"
They confer again, while Yurn mumbles apologies and fishes for another needle.
"The Pack and the Flock don't really have a lot of use for independent Boxers, particularly not those stronger than their rank and file. They are symbiotic, two factions locked in a perpetual feud. If you wanted to be part of it, you'd have to join one side or the other. If you don't do that, they don't have a lot of incentive to mess with you."
"Joining them, though," says Milos, "Would be short term good, long term bad. You'd get a slew of medium star matches, the mentorship of some Boxers you are probably better than, and almost certainly some scratch. It would take up some of your time and energy, and you'd almost certainly have to do some politicking before you graduated."
"We could really use some short term scratch though," you say, thinking guiltily of the Wild's outnumbered defenders fighting their off-seasonal battle.
"About that," says Milos, "In addition to a lot of Boxers there, there will be a fuckton of sponsors lurking around."
*No doubt. Eight Boxers in one building, including you and Gowa? Rich folks gonna be lining up to get a piece of you.*
"Quite probably including our enemy, right?" you ask. "Any chance that prick comes up to me and gives me the old veiled threat routine?"
"Wouldna bet my eye on it," says Yurn. "I ken it someone put some money towards this and put it in their back pocket. After your first match is done, the wind shall send us word from some clever Fixer that we should challenge so-and-so, and lose, if we want their Wealth out of our home."
"But the main thing," says Milos, "Is that the second big thing you should be doing, aside from trying to backchannel the Bookers and work out Bouts with the other Boxers, is trying to sell your sponsorships. Each one would let you take on another Second, or go a ways towards righting the balance in this wilderness."
You rub your top hands together, earning another aggrieved sigh from Yurn.
"How many sponsors are we talking about here?"
"Robe, towel, trunks," lists Wyke, their voice flat and impartial. "Robe is the most important, don't let that go cheap. Towel is second, and trunks are just decals. You can sell space on your trunks over and over, but it won't go for much each time."
"So, getting sponsors and challenging rivals then? Sounds like a great time."
Yurn stops his useless fretting for a sec, catches your attention.
"I dunno about sponsors boss. I scry a lot of folks in the streams dreaming of the life we live. You win their hearts by being nothing like the other boxers. Raw. Authentic. That doesn't collab so well with advertising."
"But I need the money!"
He looks back to his work, seemingly unable or unwilling to expound on his position.
"He has a bit of a point," ventures Milos, "In that you should make sure any sponsors you do pick up fit your brand. You represent a sort of wild, primal force to these watchers. A genuine outlaw from their prehistory. If you end up with anything on your robe, it needs to match that basic vibe."
*I'm kinda with Yurn on this one, actually. I think that as much as people out in the sticks dream of the comforts of the Plexes, it goes the other way too. Everyone can sense the system is confused, incestuous. Boxers taking dives, bribing refs. People could get behind a strong, simple warrior from a better time kind of story. And that guy can't ask them to like-comment-subscribe."
You wave an idle hand, finally stepping away from Yurn as you do so.
"I'll work something out," you say.
You glower at a mirror, then suddenly reach your arms across your torso, taking hold of the hastily stitched seams that join the sleeves
"Dress code said jacket, but didn't say anything about sleeves, right?"
Yurn shakes his head.
You will be participating in a Face Off with Doro 'Messy' Messmacher.
There will be a bunch of journos out front, what will you do with them?
[] Give Interview cooperatively: Lowers Infamy, raises Fame, lowers tensions with the media
[] Give Interview belligerently: Raises infamy slightly, maintains current tensions with the media
[] Disregard them entirely : No effect on infamy, lowers tensions slightly with the media
Inside, there will be a bunch of rich civilians. While the Hall will protect them from direct robbery, there are doubtless ways for you to profit from this situation.
[] Seek a sponsorship, prioritizing the highest paying without regard to what it does to your infamy. (You will get a choice of the highest paying sponsors)
[] Seek a sponsorship, prioritizing the best fit with your infamy without regard to how much they pay. (You will get a choice of the most infamous sponsors.)
[] Seek a sponsorship, balancing reputation and profit. (You will get a choice of the sponsorships with the best balance of infamy and profit.)
[] There must be people who will support the Wild directly if you make them aware of what is going on. Lobby sympathetic figures to counterbalance your enemy's efforts in your home area. (You will meet powerful people on the Green Mana end of the scale, one or more of them may be persuaded to support your allies in the outlands.)
[] Whoever is fucking with you is probably here. Call them out publicly and see if you can shame them into showing themselves. (You will make the interference in your area's cycle public, and potentially have a face off with whoever is behind this.)
[] No particular agenda for this time, just generally find things out. (You will discover a lot of information about the League and the Boxers presently advancing through it. Random chance to find out each of a few secrets currently unknown.)
Before the Face Off proper, the Boxers will be secluded for a bit. Which, if any, other Boxers will you speak privately with? (Choose up to 2, choosing only one will yield a longer conversation)
[] Doro 'Messy' Messmacher (your upcoming opponent)
[] Joel 'Grass Joel' Klobachek (Upcoming opponent of Threnody Silverspoon)
[] Tully 'Charger' Gneiss (Upcoming opponent of Gowa Donahue)
[] Mills 'The Maestro' Noblem (Upcoming opponent of Cthulhu)
[] Threnody 'The Chosen One' Silverspoon (Upcoming opponent of Joel Klobachek)
[] Gowa 'The Young Master' Donahue (Upcoming opponent of Tully Gneiss)
[] Cthulhu (Upcoming opponent of Mills Noblem) [WARNING: ONTOLOGICAL THREAT]
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