In which a young man named Philo deals with personal problems through world domination.
High Hopes (Supervillain Quest)
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High Hopes
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Cycle 1: Becoming the Emperor
Inkbones
No Glory Save Honor
- Location
- Where you can still smell the sky
I learned a long time ago that people don't want to save themselves.
I sit in a darkened office, gazing out onto the city over my steepled fingers. The rain pelts against the floor-to-ceiling window, casting shadows over my face as I contemplate.
Oh, of course, they'll say that they want to. They might even believe it. But they won't. When it comes down to it, trying to change your situation, stop doing what you know hurts you, it takes effort. Its hard, and tedious, and there isn't a certainty of success, so they don't try.
Which is why I'll have to do it.
My name is Philo Fawkes. The skyscraper I am currently brooding at the top of is the official headquarters of Empire Industries, a highly successful tech giant whose tendrils extend throughout the world. Empire's management is corrupt and nepotistic, the employees are underpaid and overworked, and the only reason the products themselves turn is a profit is that they're manufactured for slaves wages overseas. In short, this company was founded by a man with all the honest business practices and foresight of a used car salesman.
Unfortunately, that man was also my father.
I slowly stand and begin walking around the office, noting the expensive décor and rare art. I pick up a pale green vase several centuries old, carefully weighing it my hands before throwing it against the wall as hard as I can. It makes a lovely sound as it shatters.
Six days ago my father was reduced to a drooling vegetable by a particularly nasty overdose. Which is why I formally inherited the title of CEO this morning. I am now, finally, in a position to do something about the world. There's so much wrong, so much pain and corruption everywhere. I barely know where to start. Organized crime growing like a cancer on the underbelly of Harmony city, corporations running the six Citadels into the ground, the League of Nations gearing up for yet another war.
And an entirely new threat, one I don't think civilization will survive.
Superheroes.
It'd just been rumors, at first. Then videos leaked onto the interconnect. Then a complete idiot in blue and gold spandex walked into the Daily Oracle and demanded an interview.
There are seemingly more of them every week. The nation is falling over itself adjusting to the influx of "Demi's", as they are being called. Nobody, excluding myself apparently, seems to have realized how disastrous this is. A society with a randomly selected citizens capable of snapping the laws of physics over their knees simply cannot continue to exist.
Which brings my thoughts back to where they started. I can do something now.
[ ] Path of the General| While the laws of humans and governments present difficult obstructions, the laws of physics are much more yielding. Demihumans represent a new type of power. If I study them, I might be able to learn the origins of this power, and possibly even apply it to myself. Personally flying to the Capitol and making the politicians listen to reason for once is a rather lovely mental image.
[ ] Path of the Conqueror| this city is infested with gangs and corruption. Everyone knows the families exert far more power than city hall, if there's even a difference anymore. My father had connections in that world, if I used them perhaps I'd be able to procure some of that power for myself. There will always be objectives that can be met far more efficiently when working outside of the law, after all.
[ ] Path of the Baron| as much as I dislike the idea, my father's company is a very useful tool, and I am absolutely certain that I can run it better than he ever did. If I play my cards right I'd be able to impact every corner of the world; economies, politics, even religion. It's a pile of scrap metal right now, but I can forge it into a scalpel sharp enough to cut the world in half.
As I make my choice, I stare down upon the drizzling streets of Harmony, and the broken people who walk them.
The simple matter is, this whole world is broken. Somebody has to do something. It shouldn't be me, but since no one else is stepping up, It'll have to be. It won't be easy, it might not even be possible, but I have to try anyway. Because no one else will.
I sit in a darkened office, gazing out onto the city over my steepled fingers. The rain pelts against the floor-to-ceiling window, casting shadows over my face as I contemplate.
Oh, of course, they'll say that they want to. They might even believe it. But they won't. When it comes down to it, trying to change your situation, stop doing what you know hurts you, it takes effort. Its hard, and tedious, and there isn't a certainty of success, so they don't try.
Which is why I'll have to do it.
My name is Philo Fawkes. The skyscraper I am currently brooding at the top of is the official headquarters of Empire Industries, a highly successful tech giant whose tendrils extend throughout the world. Empire's management is corrupt and nepotistic, the employees are underpaid and overworked, and the only reason the products themselves turn is a profit is that they're manufactured for slaves wages overseas. In short, this company was founded by a man with all the honest business practices and foresight of a used car salesman.
Unfortunately, that man was also my father.
I slowly stand and begin walking around the office, noting the expensive décor and rare art. I pick up a pale green vase several centuries old, carefully weighing it my hands before throwing it against the wall as hard as I can. It makes a lovely sound as it shatters.
Six days ago my father was reduced to a drooling vegetable by a particularly nasty overdose. Which is why I formally inherited the title of CEO this morning. I am now, finally, in a position to do something about the world. There's so much wrong, so much pain and corruption everywhere. I barely know where to start. Organized crime growing like a cancer on the underbelly of Harmony city, corporations running the six Citadels into the ground, the League of Nations gearing up for yet another war.
And an entirely new threat, one I don't think civilization will survive.
Superheroes.
It'd just been rumors, at first. Then videos leaked onto the interconnect. Then a complete idiot in blue and gold spandex walked into the Daily Oracle and demanded an interview.
There are seemingly more of them every week. The nation is falling over itself adjusting to the influx of "Demi's", as they are being called. Nobody, excluding myself apparently, seems to have realized how disastrous this is. A society with a randomly selected citizens capable of snapping the laws of physics over their knees simply cannot continue to exist.
Which brings my thoughts back to where they started. I can do something now.
[ ] Path of the General| While the laws of humans and governments present difficult obstructions, the laws of physics are much more yielding. Demihumans represent a new type of power. If I study them, I might be able to learn the origins of this power, and possibly even apply it to myself. Personally flying to the Capitol and making the politicians listen to reason for once is a rather lovely mental image.
[ ] Path of the Conqueror| this city is infested with gangs and corruption. Everyone knows the families exert far more power than city hall, if there's even a difference anymore. My father had connections in that world, if I used them perhaps I'd be able to procure some of that power for myself. There will always be objectives that can be met far more efficiently when working outside of the law, after all.
[ ] Path of the Baron| as much as I dislike the idea, my father's company is a very useful tool, and I am absolutely certain that I can run it better than he ever did. If I play my cards right I'd be able to impact every corner of the world; economies, politics, even religion. It's a pile of scrap metal right now, but I can forge it into a scalpel sharp enough to cut the world in half.
As I make my choice, I stare down upon the drizzling streets of Harmony, and the broken people who walk them.
The simple matter is, this whole world is broken. Somebody has to do something. It shouldn't be me, but since no one else is stepping up, It'll have to be. It won't be easy, it might not even be possible, but I have to try anyway. Because no one else will.
Last edited:
Prodigal 1.01
Inkbones
No Glory Save Honor
- Location
- Where you can still smell the sky
That Morning.
I shut off the alarm.
I blink gummy eyelids at the ceiling for a few seconds. Grey light comes in through the window, so I can just about make out the outline of the apartment. Barely bigger than closet, still too expensive. City prices.
My back complains as I get up, I try to ignore it. The room comes with a coffee pot, thank the gods. I clean up as it brews, try not to meet my own eyes in the mirror.
I sip the coffee as I dress. The suit is a drab black, still costs more than the apartment. Had to get it fitted, can't show up in a bad suit, can't look weak. Takes a calendar year to put the thing on, but that's why I set an early alarm. All of it feels too natural. Makes me feel like him. Wish I could shred the damn thing.
I permit myself one last look in the mirror. Hair is good, breath is good, face as good as I can make it. Ready as I'll ever be.
Nero returns to the stage!
Dr. Saphrina Nero, renowned audiopsychologist and musician, is picking up her violin again after a five-year hiatus. "Music and science have always been my greatest passions" Dr. Nero writes in her press release "and I consider them equally important in perceiving truth. In my fervor to discover the secrets of the human mind, I have allowed music to fall by the wayside. This tour will be my attempt to rectify that." (Cont. page 6)
Masked Vigilante Attacks Dockworkers
Last night, a masked figure wearing "old-fashioned carnival getup" severely wounded three employees of the Sanguine Distribution Corporation. While he agreed that the attack might have been a case of vigilante justice in response to the corporation's less than stellar reputation, Commissioner Bryant explicitly asked the press "not to mythologize this one like the others. We don't even know if he's a Demi or not, don't go giving him a fancy name like "Renaissance" and treating him like some folk hero." But who is this Renaissance, and what is his mission? (Cont. Page 4)
What is The Truth?
This strange interweb phenomena is swiftly becoming mainstream. Just what do these nonsense phrases and disturbing pictures mean, and why are they gaining popularity among today's youth? (Cont. page 7)
I try to distract myself with the view out of the window. The sweeping steel spires of downtown gleamed on a sunny day, but under these grey clouds they just seem solid and foreboding. It doesn't help that all of them are cast into shadow by the Beacon. A half mile high white marble statue of a forgotten warrior, eternally thrusting an unlit torch out to the sea. We still have no idea how it was built, or how it even stays up. A monument to the impossible, and how old our world really is.
But then, far too soon, the train arrives at my stop
I shift my attention back to the man in front of me. His face is a special kind of decrepit. His lily-pale skin is pockmarked, and sags over his skull. His utterly white hair has left his forehead, save for a pair of furiously bushy eyebrows. Pitiless green eyes lance through rectangular lenses, regarding me with the morbid detachment of a veterinarian contemplating the best way to euthanize a cat. It's obvious he doesn't like me, although I'm not yet sure enough about why so I can't quite use it against him yet. He's been speaking for a while now, and is just about to come to a point.
"-which, among the other concerns we've raised, leads the board of directors to conclude that it is not in the best interests of the company to-"
"Oh, I believe we both know what's in the best interests of the company Mr. Vestries." My voice is carefully calm, which I know just infuriates him more. "Fawkes industries is dying. Y'all have been helping father run it into the ground since before I was born."
A vein in his forehead is bulging to the point that I think it's about to burst. Through sheer force of will I manage not to laugh.
"So let's be honest with each other. You need a fall guy. Someone to blame when it all comes crashing down and hundreds of thousands of employees lose their jobs. I fit the bill perfectly. The spoiled and undeserving heir who ruins everything his father built with mindless extravagances and worthless passion projects. Much easier than admitting that the most any of you built was a house of cards."
"Your father built more than you could dream, boy." Said Mr. Vestries, venom practically dripping from his mouth "He was a man with vision, true vision. He took what he wanted and didn't make excuses. It was a pleasure to have known him, and the fact that you sit there, his own flesh, talking about his works with such disrespect only proves how unfit you are for this position!" by the end his voice reaches a crescendo, flecks of spit flying through the air and impacting the faces of his fellow board members.
I'm almost certain that when most people get angry, it makes them agitated, erratic. My anger is precise. The whole world narrows down to just myself and my target, and I consider my options.
[ ] Eviscerate Him| "I wasn't aware my father was such a visionary. Of course, I didn't know him as…intimately, as you did." [The Board of Directors becomes your enemies. Mr. Vestries becomes a Nemesis*. The Board become afraid of you. Weighted Option: Requires 60% of the vote to overturn]
[ ] Deescalate| "I apologize, Mr. Vestries, if my tone sounded inconsequential. I am very invested in the fate of this company, and its employees. My aim is not to convince you that my particular strategies will save it, merely that it is not worth it to try and stop me." [The Board of Directors remain Neutral. Mr. Vestries becomes an enemy.]
[ ] Write-in
After an hour of pacing, intermixed with the occasional defacing and defenestration of my father's- no my office, I come to a decision.
My father thought himself a pragmatist. That treating your employees like tools and you customers like idiots was just good business, and that other people would see that if they weren't blinded by fantasies like "human dignity" and "return business."
I can think of no greater way to dishonor his memory than to move his company in the exact opposite direction and make more of a profit than he ever did.
I crack my knuckles and get to work.
You may only choose three Actions.
Treasury: 5 Funds (Funds is an arbitrary unit of money. Run out and you go bankrupt)
Income: +5 Funds/turn. (how much money you make per update)
Expenses: -3 Funds/turn. (how much money you lose each update)
Notoriety: 1 (the bad kind of attention. Enemies can use this against you.)
Detailed write-ins result in better rolls.
Path of the Baron (This is your chosen path, you must choose at least one action from this path each turn):
[ ] Create a Research and Development Department and start recruiting researchers. [-1 Fund, +1 Expense, +1d10 researchers, d100 roll for quality]
[ ] Create a dedicated Legal Department and start recruiting lawyers. [-1 Fund, +1 Expense, +1d10 lawyers, d100 roll for quality]
[ ] Recruit a personal assistant. [d100 roll for competence, allows you to delegate 1 action/turn(meaning you can take an extra action)]
[ ] Personally analyze some basic Empire technologies to see if I can improve them. [50% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success]
[ ] Perform a company-wide audit, if I'm lucky I can catch some of the idiots who're skimming off the top. [50% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success, success means +1 Income]
Path of the Conqueror
[ ] Contact my father's old mob associates. [+1 Notoriety]
[ ] Research Mr. Vestries' past for something I can use against him. [50% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success]
[ ] Discretely hire a mercenary to carry out unsavory jobs for me. [d100 for quality, +1 Expense, 40% chance of +1 Notoriety.]
[ ] Research places in the city to build a covert base. [50% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success]
[ ] Try to bribe an official in city government. [-1 Funds, 60% chance of success, failure means +1 Notoriety]
Path of the General
[ ] Hire a personal trainer to improve my fighting skills. [50% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success]
[ ] Recruit a personal security force. [- 1 Funds, +1 Expense, +1d10 mercenaries, d100 for quality]
[ ] Hire a Bodyguard [-1 Funds, +1 Expense, d100+10 for quality]
[ ] Research Demihuman scholars [50% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success]
[ ] Investigate Demihuman sightings for DNA or other useful traces. [40% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success]
Random Events (these are actions that are available for one turn only.)
[ ] Interview Atlas. I strongly disagree with his politics, however "objective" he claims to be, but having a superhero on payroll would be extremely useful.
[ ] Attend Nero's Concert. I have long been an admirer of Dr. Nero's, but I have a much more mercenary goal than high art. All of high society will be there, and it would be an excellent opportunity to rube shoulders with the rich and powerful.
[ ] Investigate the docks. It's well known that Sanguine Corp. is a front for the Draconi crime family, perhaps I could find out why "Renaissance" chose to attack that shipment in particular.
I shut off the alarm.
I blink gummy eyelids at the ceiling for a few seconds. Grey light comes in through the window, so I can just about make out the outline of the apartment. Barely bigger than closet, still too expensive. City prices.
My back complains as I get up, I try to ignore it. The room comes with a coffee pot, thank the gods. I clean up as it brews, try not to meet my own eyes in the mirror.
I sip the coffee as I dress. The suit is a drab black, still costs more than the apartment. Had to get it fitted, can't show up in a bad suit, can't look weak. Takes a calendar year to put the thing on, but that's why I set an early alarm. All of it feels too natural. Makes me feel like him. Wish I could shred the damn thing.
I permit myself one last look in the mirror. Hair is good, breath is good, face as good as I can make it. Ready as I'll ever be.
***
I keep fidgeting on my seat during the whole mag-rail ride. The coffee might not have been a good idea, it just gave me more nervous energy. I try to read my newspaper in an attempt to distract myself.
The Daily Oracle
The News that you want to hear
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------The News that you want to hear
Atlas: Hero for Hire
"It is every man's duty to pursue his own happiness" Says Demihuman celebrity in interview (Page 2)
"It is every man's duty to pursue his own happiness" Says Demihuman celebrity in interview (Page 2)
Nero returns to the stage!
Dr. Saphrina Nero, renowned audiopsychologist and musician, is picking up her violin again after a five-year hiatus. "Music and science have always been my greatest passions" Dr. Nero writes in her press release "and I consider them equally important in perceiving truth. In my fervor to discover the secrets of the human mind, I have allowed music to fall by the wayside. This tour will be my attempt to rectify that." (Cont. page 6)
Masked Vigilante Attacks Dockworkers
Last night, a masked figure wearing "old-fashioned carnival getup" severely wounded three employees of the Sanguine Distribution Corporation. While he agreed that the attack might have been a case of vigilante justice in response to the corporation's less than stellar reputation, Commissioner Bryant explicitly asked the press "not to mythologize this one like the others. We don't even know if he's a Demi or not, don't go giving him a fancy name like "Renaissance" and treating him like some folk hero." But who is this Renaissance, and what is his mission? (Cont. Page 4)
What is The Truth?
This strange interweb phenomena is swiftly becoming mainstream. Just what do these nonsense phrases and disturbing pictures mean, and why are they gaining popularity among today's youth? (Cont. page 7)
I try to distract myself with the view out of the window. The sweeping steel spires of downtown gleamed on a sunny day, but under these grey clouds they just seem solid and foreboding. It doesn't help that all of them are cast into shadow by the Beacon. A half mile high white marble statue of a forgotten warrior, eternally thrusting an unlit torch out to the sea. We still have no idea how it was built, or how it even stays up. A monument to the impossible, and how old our world really is.
But then, far too soon, the train arrives at my stop
***
Even here, in a dark room, in a dark building, behind darkened glass, I can just about see a sunbeam fight it's way out of the iron-gray sky. For some reason the sight of it brings me hope.I shift my attention back to the man in front of me. His face is a special kind of decrepit. His lily-pale skin is pockmarked, and sags over his skull. His utterly white hair has left his forehead, save for a pair of furiously bushy eyebrows. Pitiless green eyes lance through rectangular lenses, regarding me with the morbid detachment of a veterinarian contemplating the best way to euthanize a cat. It's obvious he doesn't like me, although I'm not yet sure enough about why so I can't quite use it against him yet. He's been speaking for a while now, and is just about to come to a point.
"-which, among the other concerns we've raised, leads the board of directors to conclude that it is not in the best interests of the company to-"
"Oh, I believe we both know what's in the best interests of the company Mr. Vestries." My voice is carefully calm, which I know just infuriates him more. "Fawkes industries is dying. Y'all have been helping father run it into the ground since before I was born."
A vein in his forehead is bulging to the point that I think it's about to burst. Through sheer force of will I manage not to laugh.
"So let's be honest with each other. You need a fall guy. Someone to blame when it all comes crashing down and hundreds of thousands of employees lose their jobs. I fit the bill perfectly. The spoiled and undeserving heir who ruins everything his father built with mindless extravagances and worthless passion projects. Much easier than admitting that the most any of you built was a house of cards."
"Your father built more than you could dream, boy." Said Mr. Vestries, venom practically dripping from his mouth "He was a man with vision, true vision. He took what he wanted and didn't make excuses. It was a pleasure to have known him, and the fact that you sit there, his own flesh, talking about his works with such disrespect only proves how unfit you are for this position!" by the end his voice reaches a crescendo, flecks of spit flying through the air and impacting the faces of his fellow board members.
I'm almost certain that when most people get angry, it makes them agitated, erratic. My anger is precise. The whole world narrows down to just myself and my target, and I consider my options.
[ ] Eviscerate Him| "I wasn't aware my father was such a visionary. Of course, I didn't know him as…intimately, as you did." [The Board of Directors becomes your enemies. Mr. Vestries becomes a Nemesis*. The Board become afraid of you. Weighted Option: Requires 60% of the vote to overturn]
[ ] Deescalate| "I apologize, Mr. Vestries, if my tone sounded inconsequential. I am very invested in the fate of this company, and its employees. My aim is not to convince you that my particular strategies will save it, merely that it is not worth it to try and stop me." [The Board of Directors remain Neutral. Mr. Vestries becomes an enemy.]
[ ] Write-in
An enemy makes a move against you every Arc. A Nemesis moves against you every update.
***
NowAfter an hour of pacing, intermixed with the occasional defacing and defenestration of my father's- no my office, I come to a decision.
My father thought himself a pragmatist. That treating your employees like tools and you customers like idiots was just good business, and that other people would see that if they weren't blinded by fantasies like "human dignity" and "return business."
I can think of no greater way to dishonor his memory than to move his company in the exact opposite direction and make more of a profit than he ever did.
I crack my knuckles and get to work.
You may only choose three Actions.
Treasury: 5 Funds (Funds is an arbitrary unit of money. Run out and you go bankrupt)
Income: +5 Funds/turn. (how much money you make per update)
Expenses: -3 Funds/turn. (how much money you lose each update)
Notoriety: 1 (the bad kind of attention. Enemies can use this against you.)
Detailed write-ins result in better rolls.
Path of the Baron (This is your chosen path, you must choose at least one action from this path each turn):
[ ] Create a Research and Development Department and start recruiting researchers. [-1 Fund, +1 Expense, +1d10 researchers, d100 roll for quality]
[ ] Create a dedicated Legal Department and start recruiting lawyers. [-1 Fund, +1 Expense, +1d10 lawyers, d100 roll for quality]
[ ] Recruit a personal assistant. [d100 roll for competence, allows you to delegate 1 action/turn(meaning you can take an extra action)]
[ ] Personally analyze some basic Empire technologies to see if I can improve them. [50% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success]
[ ] Perform a company-wide audit, if I'm lucky I can catch some of the idiots who're skimming off the top. [50% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success, success means +1 Income]
Path of the Conqueror
[ ] Contact my father's old mob associates. [+1 Notoriety]
[ ] Research Mr. Vestries' past for something I can use against him. [50% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success]
[ ] Discretely hire a mercenary to carry out unsavory jobs for me. [d100 for quality, +1 Expense, 40% chance of +1 Notoriety.]
[ ] Research places in the city to build a covert base. [50% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success]
[ ] Try to bribe an official in city government. [-1 Funds, 60% chance of success, failure means +1 Notoriety]
Path of the General
[ ] Hire a personal trainer to improve my fighting skills. [50% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success]
[ ] Recruit a personal security force. [- 1 Funds, +1 Expense, +1d10 mercenaries, d100 for quality]
[ ] Hire a Bodyguard [-1 Funds, +1 Expense, d100+10 for quality]
[ ] Research Demihuman scholars [50% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success]
[ ] Investigate Demihuman sightings for DNA or other useful traces. [40% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success]
Random Events (these are actions that are available for one turn only.)
[ ] Interview Atlas. I strongly disagree with his politics, however "objective" he claims to be, but having a superhero on payroll would be extremely useful.
[ ] Attend Nero's Concert. I have long been an admirer of Dr. Nero's, but I have a much more mercenary goal than high art. All of high society will be there, and it would be an excellent opportunity to rube shoulders with the rich and powerful.
[ ] Investigate the docks. It's well known that Sanguine Corp. is a front for the Draconi crime family, perhaps I could find out why "Renaissance" chose to attack that shipment in particular.
Prodigal 1.02
Inkbones
No Glory Save Honor
- Location
- Where you can still smell the sky
[X] Deescalate[/B]| "I apologize, Mr. Vestries, if my tone sounded inconsequential. I am very invested in the fate of this company, and its employees. My aim is not to convince you that my particular strategies will save it, merely that it is not worth it to try and stop me." [The Board of Directors remain Neutral. Mr. Vestries becomes an enemy.]
[X] Perform a company-wide audit, if I'm lucky I can catch some of the idiots who're skimming off the top. [50% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success, success means +1 Income]
[X] Create a dedicated Legal Department and start recruiting lawyers. [-1 Fund, +1 Expense, +1d10 lawyers, d100 roll for quality]
[x] Research Mr. Vestries' past for something I can use against him. [50% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success]
[X] Perform a company-wide audit, if I'm lucky I can catch some of the idiots who're skimming off the top. [50% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success, success means +1 Income]
[X] Create a dedicated Legal Department and start recruiting lawyers. [-1 Fund, +1 Expense, +1d10 lawyers, d100 roll for quality]
[x] Research Mr. Vestries' past for something I can use against him. [50% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success]
Audit: Success, no Crit.
Legal: 1d100=81. 1d10=7
Mr. Vestries: Critical Success.
Legal: 1d100=81. 1d10=7
Mr. Vestries: Critical Success.
The Board Meeting
I walk out of the board room to the sound of furious whispers. From the sound of it, I'd managed to split them down the middle between those who were afraid of the company hemorrhaging money faster than it already was, and those who were terrified of going to jail for the various idiocies they'd all been getting away with until now.
Still, I feel more than a little proud of myself. The desire to reveal that bastard's secrets to the rest of the board had almost been overpowering.
Not that I had any proof besides blurred memories. Sampson Fawkes had many lovers other than mom, but Vestries was the only face I clearly remembered.
Looking back, perhaps I'd been too hasty to blame him. Dad's words could wrap around your spine like ivy. Vestries, whose eyes remained firmly locked with mine as the elevator doors closed, was simply another victim of my father, even if he wouldn't admit it to himself.
A thought fluttered through my head that was so alien I was almost shocked. Mercy. I could show mercy to that sad little man. Instead of ruining him as I had planned, I could bring him to my side, use that fire I had seen and shape it into a something useful.
Such a hopeful thought, perhaps too hopeful. The man hated the very idea of my existence, it wouldn't be easy to turn that hate into respect. But it was possible. Not likely, but possible.
I suppose there's sentimental part of me that thinks that everyone can change for the better.
We'll see.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Audit
From: Chief Executive Officer Philo Fawkes
To: All Employees, All Managers, All Offices...and 42 more.
Subject: Change of Policy
It has come to my attention that certain members of the this company believe that my tenure as CEO will be brief and uneventful, that I will simply rest on my father's laurels until the Board finds an adequate replacement.
The purpose of this memo is to reassure you of the complete inaccuracy of the above statement.
Up until recently, Empire's greatest export has been human misery, and it's greatest important has been incompetence and mismanagement.
This, as you might guess, is going to stop now.
I am hereby issuing a company-wide audit for the express purpose of discovering and punishment of embezzlement, bribery, incompetence, violations of worker's right's and safety protocols, nepotism, abuse of power, and general corruption. If you have committed any of the above crimes, rest assured that it is not a matter of if I find you, but when, even if I have to sieve through this entire corporation grain by grain.
What follows is a list of protocols that everyone is expected to follow. Failure to follow will lead to suspension or outright dismissal. Attempting to cover for others will be treated in a similar manner. Employees who report their managers or coworkers will be rewarded, but keep in mind that false accusations will be punished in equal measure to the actual crime...
Page 1 of 17
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Legal Department
The building was an imposing facade of blackbrick and frosted windows, contrasting starkly with tasteful furniture and warm lighting.
I stood up from my surprisingly ergonomic seat and shook the hand of the man who just walked in, receiving a genuinely warm smile for the first time in what feels like years.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Fawkes. I'm Maxel, Arthur Maxel, although I'm sure you knew that already. I understand you're interested in hiring the services of this firm."
His skin is a pale olive, with dark hair and surprisingly deep brown eyes. In another life, I might have asked him out, but right now I needed to focus. Romance is one more complication that I do not need.
"Perhaps I was unclear Mr. Maxel. I do not want to hire the firm; I want to buy it. I want Maxel and Hearth to represent Empire Industries exclusively."
His eyebrows shoot up for a second, before his brow furrows.
"Firstly Mr. Fawkes, I have to inform you that the firm is not interested in going corporate. We pride ourselves on our service to the community, service which we would not be able to render under Empire, no matter how lucrative your offer."
I lean forward, smiling into my words.
"But that's why I chose you, Mr. Maxel. Because you actually believe that. Time and time again you have chosen humanity over profit, and it has earned you a very valuable reputation. I'm not asking you to stop helping people, I'm giving you a chance to help many, many more of them. My aim is to change the face of the world, of the economy, of the system itself. I want to take power away from those who abuse it and give it to those who have none. That is going to earn me enemies, and lawsuits."
"I understand it has already. Fifteen former employees are suing you for unlawful dismissal. Is that why you want us, to protect you from consequences like that?"
"Once you see how much money each of them stole, and what they did with it, I believe you will be a bit less charitably inclined toward them. No, I do not want you to protect me from anything, I want you to help me continue the fight you've already been fighting for years."
He pinches the bridge of his nose.
"I can't promise anything, but I can probably agree to a "trial period" of sorts. We'll take some of your cases, see if any of what I just heard is true. I got into this business because I wanted to defend people, not corporations."
I shake my head.
"I'm not asking you stop helping people, Mr. Maxel, I'm giving you the chance to help far, far more of them."
"I'll admit, that's a hells of a sales pitch. You ever wanted to be an attorney?"
I shake my head.
"Not really."
"Good. You can call me Arthur, by the way. Now let's discuss hourly rates-"
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Researching Mr. Vestries
Vestries' life is a study in failure.
Divorced three times, one man and two women. A good half of his salary goes to alimony payments.
No friends, peers, or family. Heart condition due to stress and poor diet. Probably alcoholic.
Most of this I learn from the interweb, or from interviewing employees. I hit the proverbial jackpot when I question his maid.
"And you are absolutely certain of this? It's about this large-" I demonstrate with my hands "black leather, with a silver heart on the cover."
"Yes sir. He keeps it with him everywhere, only takes it out and night."
"Thank you very much." I say as I hand her a roll of bills.
Father's heart. That's what he called it, his diary/confessor. A little black book he kept all his secrets in, written in his own special code. Hidden bank accounts, contacts, blackmail information. Everything. And Vestries has it.
I'm still thinking about it much later in my office, even as I'm supposed to be going over the company accounts to see who's skimming off the top.
I'm interrupted from my reverie by my secretary.
"Two men to see you Mr. Fawkes. They say that it's urgent."
Right, that'll be the two o'clock. I collect the various papers strewn around my desk, mixing up the account data with my musings on creating an optimal world government, and quickly shoving them all into a drawer.
"Thank you Mrs. Turquoise, send them in."
The two of them are wearing trench coats. Never a good sign. One whips out a badge as the other cranes his neck observing my halfway-renovated office.
"Good evening Mr. Fawkes" gods I was getting tired of people calling me that "I'm Detective Gil, and this is my partner Sargent Kidu. We'd like to ask you a few questions."
Ah. I'd been anticipating this for a while now. I try to ignore the quickening of my pulse, gesturing for the two to sit down.
"I assume this is about my father." I say calmly.
"Yes, I hope you understand that this is merely routine-"
"Alright, cut the crap." Detective Gil interrupts his partner, fixing me with what I think is supposed to be an intimidation glare. "We know you did it."
My cool anger returns to me, tinged with fear, as I take a half-second to consider my response.
[ ] Call His Bluff| "Is it standard police practice to accuse every suspect until you get lucky, or did you just pick my name out of a hat?"
[ ] Reserved| "And why, precisely, do you think that?"
[ ] Defensive| "I did not invite you here to receive baseless accusations. Get out of my office and hope I don't sue you for slander."
---------------------
You have 3 Actions.
Treasury: 6 Funds (Funds is an arbitrary unit of money. Run out and you go bankrupt)
Income: +6 Funds/turn. (how much money you make per update)
Expenses: -4 Funds/turn. (how much money you lose each update)
Notoriety: 1 (the bad kind of attention. Enemies can use this against you.)
Path of the Baron (This is your chosen path, you must choose at least one action from this path each turn):
[ ] Create a Research and Development Department and start recruiting researchers. [-1 Fund, +1 Expense, +1d10 researchers, d100 roll for quality]
[ ] Recruit a personal assistant. [d100 roll for competence, allows you to delegate 1 action/turn(meaning you can take an extra action)]
[ ] Create a Public Relations Department [-Fund, +1 Expense, -1 Notoriety/Turn]
[ ] Create a system where medical students will receive tuition in return for a twenty-year contract after graduation. [-1 Fund, +1 Expense, -1 Notoriety, eventual steady supply of young doctors]
Path of the Conqueror
[ ] Contact my father's old mob associates. [+1 Notoriety]
[ ] Manipulate Mr. Vestries to my side [Requires multiple steps. 0/3 completed. 70% chance of success. 10% chance of critical success]
[ ] Discretely hire a mercenary to carry out unsavory jobs for me. [d100 for quality, +1 Expense, 40% chance of +1 Notoriety.]
Path of the General
[ ] Hire a personal trainer to improve my fighting skills. [50% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success]
[ ] Recruit a personal security force. [- 1 Funds, +1 Expense, +1d10 mercenaries, d100 for quality]
[ ] Develop a plan to kill Atlas if necessary. [50% success, 10% Crit.]
[ ] Do a smear job on this "Renaissance" character.
[ ] Develop a...super-railgun.
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Character Sheets
Inkbones
No Glory Save Honor
- Location
- Where you can still smell the sky
Philo Fawkes
Philosophy: 2
Stewardship: 1
Diplomacy: 5
Finesse: 1
Espionage: 0
Martial: 0
Special Attributes:
Motivated: has a minimum of 50% chance to succeed and a 10% chance of criting at any non-supernatural action.
Last edited:
Prodigal 1.03
Inkbones
No Glory Save Honor
- Location
- Where you can still smell the sky
Prodigal 1.03
[x] Call His Bluff| "Is it standard police practice to accuse every suspect until you get lucky, or did you just pick my name out of a hat?"
[x] Create a Public Relations Department [-Fund, +1 Expense, -1 Notoriety/Turn]
[x] Recruit a personal assistant. [d100 roll for competence, allows you to delegate 1 action/turn(meaning you can take an extra action)]
[x] Contact my father's old mob associates. [+1 Notoriety]
[x] Call His Bluff| "Is it standard police practice to accuse every suspect until you get lucky, or did you just pick my name out of a hat?"
[x] Create a Public Relations Department [-Fund, +1 Expense, -1 Notoriety/Turn]
[x] Recruit a personal assistant. [d100 roll for competence, allows you to delegate 1 action/turn(meaning you can take an extra action)]
[x] Contact my father's old mob associates. [+1 Notoriety]
Interview Results: +1 notoriety, Detective Gil&Lieutenant Kidu are Investigating you.
Personal Assistant: d100=45
Personal Assistant: d100=45
--------------------------------------------------------------------
The Lieutenant's Bluff
I considered it extremely good fortune that these two would show up out of nowhere with no evidence and accuse me of murder.
I'd been needing a chance to vent.
"I can't really comprehend how you'd come to such a ridiculous conclusion. I didn't even arrive in this country until a week after they found his body. The board had to track me down to tell me he was dead! I'm genuinely curious, how could you possibly think I did it?"
Kidu opens his mouth to shoot more baseless accusations of murder, but shuts it when his partner grabs his shoulder so hard I hear his knuckles pop.
"What my partner is trying to say is that certain facts surrounding your father's death lead us to believe that he might have been murdered."
Literally calling me a murderer to my face doesn't leave a lot of room for reasonable doubt, but I let it slide. Reacting defensively would just make me look more guilty. I wave my hand with a "get on with it" gesture.
Detective Gil flips open notebook and begins reading. "First of all, your dad's personal physician disappeared the same day he died. We only found him a few days ago."
He looks up for a second, obviously judging my reaction.
I carefully furrow my brow.
"I'll admit that sounds extremely suspicious. What did he say when you questioned him?"
Gil flips the notebook closed with an annoyed expression.
"That's the thing, we didn't find him so much as his remains. Left a suicide note rambling about breaking his Cadaciatic oath. We also found a key to a hidden bank account that received one million drachma a day before your dad's overdose. Our current theory is that someone" he shoots a glare toward his partner "whose identity is unknown at this point, played him to betray your father and make it look like an accident."
I smile, walk toward the the only book case in the room without a layer of dust on it, pulling one of the hinged shelves to reveal a row of drinks. I pour myself one as I talk.
"Well, you're correct, in that Dr. Summers was payed off. It's less correct to say that he was father's personal physician so much as his supplier. He could get his hands on medications that require a prescription, and father payed him under the table on top of his already exorbitant salary. I had thought Summers was satisfied with the arrangement, but apparently he still had some shred of professional ethics."
"So you're saying that that the hidden account was just a payoff, and that Summers killed himself out of guilt after your father overdose."
I shrugged.
"You're the Detective. All I know is that I doubt Summers would kill his cash cow, not to mention how he would leave absolutely no evidence at the crime."
The Detective bites his cheek before changing the subject.
"I take it that you didn't like your father very much."
I stare down into my glass, swirling it a little.
"The two of us didn't exactly see eye to eye. And to preempt your next question, our relationship was...complex, but I didn't think he deserved to die. There are some things I will never forgive him for, but I do wish we'd gotten a chance to talk before-"
"And what about your mother?" the Detective's tone was light. His eyes were icepicks. "Do you wish you'd talked to her 'before'?"
I kept a carefully neutral face, which probably would have worked if my glass hadn't shattered in my grip, driving broken splinters deep into my palm. I stare woefully down at my hands before speaking in a carefully calm tone of voice.
"I'd leave the tactless outbursts to your partner, Detective. He's better at them. I believe our interview has concluded. Please ask my secretary to call a doctor on your way out, would you?"
I give them exactly one minute to enter the elevator before I start screaming expletives.
-----------------------------------------------------------
-
The PR Department
"So, what do you think?"
The woman across from me massages her forehead as she stares down at the portfolio. I'm reminded of myself, on a bad day.
"Do you want a nice answer, or an honest one?"
I raise an eyebrow as I sip my champagne. The restaurant were sitting at is famous for good drinks and soundproof booths, and is one of the most popular in the city.
"Honest then. You're kinda fucked. You have to understand, your dad was seriously loved in this city. He donated to charity, took pictures with sick kids, all that sort of bullshit."
The woman sitting across from me, aside from having one the foulest mouths I've heard in a while, is Victoria Oracle, one of the best spin doctors this side of the West pole. She is currently informing me about the chances of turning around my current popularity rating(or lack thereof).
"You were always seen as, well, the brat. You're almost never showed up at public appearances, and when you did you where withdrawn and moody. I've looked, and I can't find one picture of you smiling. Then, you suddenly leave, his health starts to decline, your mother-"
I'm intentionally not holding my glass, holding my hands under the table so she can't see my white knuckles. Something of what I was feeling must have shown on my face, because she immediately backs off.
"Um. Anyway, a lot of people blame you for leaving like that. Then he dies, and you immediately show up and take over. Do get how people wouldn't like you?"
"Yes, I am aware of how difficult the task would be. My question is whether you think you could pull it off?"
She absentmindedly straightens her tie.
"Well, the most obvious way to spin it was that you left to 'find yourself', have you spout some spiritual BS about 'the true path', people eat up that sort of shit. Make a big show about how guilty you are about leaving, that speech you gave at funeral will help with that. Maybe create a charity in his name?"
She leans back and regards you with a look halfway between calculating and amused.
"Yeah, I can work with this. But you'll have to work with me, got it? You'll need to keep that pretty nose clean. No drugs, no prostitutes, no gambling. At least not where people can see. There's nothing people hate more than a an arrogant prick spending all of daddy's money on cards and hookers while people starve on the street."
I quirk an eyebrow again. "Exactly what kind of clients are you used to dealing with?"
She snorted, downed her champagne in one go, and got up to leave.
"My last one killed three people last month. It's been great for his image."
-----------------------------------------------------------
-
The Assistant
I check my watch and frown for the fifth time. It's been fifteen minutes by now, make that sixteen. Where is she?
I poke my head out the door, about to ask the secretary once again if the applicant for the personal assistant job has arrived yet, when I notice a girl sitting on the bench in the waiting room.
She was the physical archetype of an angst teenager. Dark hair with a streak of violet, nose ring, randomly placed piercings, the works. When she looked up from her dataphone I saw that she even had one obviously fake purple contact lense over her brown eyes. This was someone who was trying their hardest to be the center of attention and failing miserably.
"Um, can I help you?" I said in my least condescending tone.
"Uh, yeah. I'm here for the assistant gig."
I look around the waiting room just in case there are other, camouflaged applicants.
"...And it's just you?"
She shrugs. "I'm the only one who showed up."
"The only- how old are you?"
Never has there been such indignation expressed in one nostril flare.
"I'm eighteen. Nineteen in a month."
"Wow, that old. Do your parents know you're here?"
"As a matter of fact, they do! I call my mom every night."
"Well, you can tell her you've been turned down from your first job application. I'm sure she'll be very proud."
I twirl about and go back into my office, closing the massive wooden doors behind me. I need a drink.
Why didn't anyone else show up? Is my reputation that bad? Or has Vestries sabotaged me somehow-
"Hold on, I'm your only applicant!" Darnit, she followed me in. Really need to put a lock on those things. "Are you really turning me down?"
"Yes. I don't employ children, and I specifically mentioned that the applicants should be competent. Have you even graduated highschool yet?"
She crosses her arms.
"Well, I almost didn't, but my dad had a talk with the principal and fixed it."
"Right, and who's he? Someone I should have heard of?"
"Harold Vestries."
My glass shatters on the floor, splashing my far-too-expensive shoes. I whirl around to see her smirking face.
"Vestries?"
"That's right. He volunteered me for the position. Said it would give me a chance to learn leadership skills and business management."
Or in other words, sent her here to spy on me. I have seriously misjudged this girl.
"And if I reject this generous offer?" I managed to grind out from between clenched teeth.
"Well he did mention that if you don't have the budget to accept such an obviously qualified candidate, he doesn't see how you could possibly afford to create these new internal departments you've been working on."
He's literally blackmailing me with my own attempts to save the company. Of course he is.
I reach for- right, I'm out of glasses. I grab a tumbler of something brown, uncork it and take a pull straight from the bottle.
I am going. To kill him.
Slowly.
"So, are you going to-"
"Here." I grab a random pile of papers from my desk and and shove them into her arms.
"Deal with these."
I stalk away from her and slump into my chair, defeated.
"Hey, um. Mr. Fawkes? Sir? I'm going to need an office."
I rub my face, suddenly far too tired to deal with this.
"Talk with my secretary, he'll find you something. And please call me Philo. I hate it when people call me Mr. Fawkes. It makes me sound like him."
"I know. I'm Sophia."
"That's a nice name." I say, not really paying attention anymore. I swivel the chair around to face the infuriatingly sunny skyline.
After a while, the office doors close again, and I am left with my thoughts on how to deal with this new development.
-------------------------------------------------------------
The Contact
The parking lot is dark and decrepit. The cars are covered in dust and leaves, the walls are cracked, and the lights flicker. Perfect place for a very specific type of business meeting.
An utterly nondescript black van rolls up in front of me. The side door opens slowly, revealing two grunts in exquisitely tailored suits. One looks suspiciously normal, while the other is gigantic and ridiculously muscled. He smirks as I take an involuntary step back, revealing a gold tooth bigger than my thumb.
A chuckle emanates from the van's shadowy interior.
A feathered coat slowly steps into the light.
It's carefully removed by the attendants, revealing a woman aging gracefully in an sky-blue gown. Large, bright eyes scan you from underneath a feathered hat tilted just so. Her brown skin is creased slightly around her slight smile and heavily between here eyebrows.
Her street name is Aunt Clemency (more commonly referred to as Granny Mercy, though never to her face) one of the most powerful crime bosses in Harmony City. She runs her little slice of the criminal underworld like a well oiled machine, largely through through sheer terror. Her ruthlessness punishment of any who try to cheat or betray her are have made her infamous throughout the Citadel s.
That, and she dresses and acts like someone's rich grandmother.
"Philo, dear boy, it's been too long! The last time I saw you, you were a little boy!" She actually grabs my head and tilts my head to the side as if I was five.
"I'm afraid you have me at at a disadvantage, Madam." I say as I gently remove her gloved hands. "I have very few memories of you, unfortunately."
"Well, we only met a few times when I was conducting business with your father." Her senile demeanor evaporates, and she fixes me with a gaze cold enough to freeze steel and hard enough to crack it. "I was always extremely unimpressed with your father. He was a brute, and far more interested in his own ego than business. I hope I can expect better from you."
I meet her gaze without budging an inch. "I am certain that I will be far more useful to you than he ever was."
And like a light switch, the grandmotherly mannerisms come back. She gestures behind her, where her bodyguards are setting up a two portable chairs and a tea table.
"Very good dear, I have so much faith in you." The two of us sit down and the giant starts pouring tea put of a porcelain pot. "Now then-" she smiles, tea cup in hand, but that same ice returns to her eyes. "Shall we discuss business?"
What will you help Aunt Clemency with?[Choose any or all of the below]:
[ ] Cleaning: use Empire resources to launder mob money(taking a cut for yourself, of course)[+.5 Notoriety/turn, +1 Income]
[ ] Groceries: use Empire infrastructure to smuggle goods in and out of the Citadels. [+1 Notoriety/turn, +2 Income]
[ ] Baking: Empire buys certain chemicals in bulk as part of manufacturing. These chemicals can be used for...other purposes. Arrange for Aunty to get some of every shipment, and she'll give you something sweet in return. [50% chance of +1 Notoriety every turn, +2 Income]
-----------------------------------------------------------
-
You have 3 Actions.
You may choose have Sophia perform 1 Action, but she may not do it as well as you would.
Treasury: 9 Funds (Funds is an arbitrary unit of money. Run out and you go bankrupt)
Income: +1 Funds/turn. (how much money you make per update)
Notoriety: 3 (the bad kind of attention. Enemies can use this against you)
Path of the Baron (This is your chosen path, you must choose at least one action from this path each turn)(33%):
[ ] Create a Research and Development Department and start recruiting researchers. [-1 Fund, +1 Expense, +1d6 researchers, d100 roll for quality]
[ ] Create a system where medical students will receive tuition in return for a twenty-year contract after graduation. [-1 Fund, +1 Expense, -1 Notoriety, eventual steady supply of young doctors]
Path of the Conqueror(22%)
[ ] Manipulate Mr. Vestries to my side [Requires multiple steps. 0/3 completed. 70% chance of success. 10% chance of critical success]
[ ] Discretely hire a mercenary to carry out unsavory jobs for me. [d100 for quality, +1 Expense, 40% chance of +1 Notoriety.]
[ ] Sue Detective Gil and Leuitenant Kidu for false accusation and defamation of character. [-1 Fund, +1 Notoriety, Gil&Kidu become Enemies but are kicked out of police force]
Path of the General(0%)
[ ] Hire a personal trainer to improve my fighting skills. [50% chance of success, 10% chance of critical success]
[ ] Recruit a personal security force. [- 1 Funds, +1 Expense, +1d10 mercenaries, d100 for quality]
[ ] Develop a plan to kill Atlas if necessary. [50% success, 10% Crit.]
[ ] Do a smear job on this "Renaissance" character.
[ ] Develop a...super-railgun.
Random Events (these are actions that are available for one arc only.)
[ ] Interview Atlas. I strongly disagree with his politics, however "objective" he claims to be, but having a superhero on payroll would be extremely useful.
[ ] Attend Nero's Concert. I have long been an admirer of Dr. Nero's, but I have a much more mercenary goal than high art. All of high society will be there, and it would be an excellent opportunity to rub shoulders with the rich and powerful.
[ ] Investigate the docks. It's well known that Sanguine Corp. is a front for the Draconi crime family, perhaps I could find out why "Renaissance" chose to attack that shipment in particular.
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Axillary Character Sheets
Inkbones
No Glory Save Honor
- Location
- Where you can still smell the sky
Empire Industries(organization)
Tier: world
Stats:
Philosophy: 0
Manufacturing: 2
Leadership: 2
Internal Affairs: 2
Diplomacy: 1
Public Relations: 5
Finesse: 0
Espionage: 0
Martial: 1
Legal Defense: 4
Special Attributes:
Outsourced Production: -2 to manufacturing, +1 Income.
Recently Audited: +2 to Internal Affairs, -1 to Espionage. (Lasts three arcs.)
Legal Department: the Diplomacy stat of the head lawyer is added to all legal defense rolls.
PR Department: the Diplomacy stat of the public relations manager is added to all public relations rolls.
Arthur MaxelTier: City
Stats:
Philosophy: 0
Law: 2
Leadership: 1
Diplomacy: 4
Finesse: 1
Espionage: -1
Martial: 0
Special Attributes:
Motivated: minimum 50% to succeed and 10% to crit. at any non-supernatural task.
Naturally Honest: Maximum -1 Espionage, +1 to Diplomacy.
Experienced(law): advantage on all Philosophy(law) rolls.
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Prodigal 1.End
Inkbones
No Glory Save Honor
- Location
- Where you can still smell the sky
[X] Plan Clean-ish Nose
-[X] Baking: Empire buys certain chemicals in bulk as part of manufacturing. These chemicals can be used for...other purposes. Arrange for Aunty to get some of every shipment, and she'll give you something sweet in return. [50% chance of +1 Notoriety every turn, +2 Income]
-[X] Create a system where medical students will receive tuition in return for a twenty-year contract after graduation. [-1 Fund, +1 Expense, -1 Notoriety, eventual steady supply of young doctors]
-[X] Manipulate Mr. Vestries to my side [Requires multiple steps. 0/3 completed. 70% chance of success. 10% chance of critical success]
-[X] Interview Atlas. I strongly disagree with his politics, however "objective" he claims to be, but having a superhero on payroll would be extremely useful.
-[X][Assistant] Attend Nero's Concert. I have long been an admirer of Dr. Nero's, but I have a much more mercenary goal than high art. All of high society will be there, and it would be an excellent opportunity to rub shoulders with the rich and powerful.
1 Action Over.
Penalty: Overworked(1 less personal action next turn)
--------------------
The art deco spires of the city fly past, gleaming darkly through the limousine's tinted windows.
"So, Atlas is a complete jerk."
Miss Vestries has turned out to be surprisingly competent. I can't trust her with anything incriminating of course, but she's still been a great help.
I nod. "I suspected as much after reading his interview. I've never seen anyone put so much thought into being as selfish as humanly possible."
"It wasn't really the philosophy, although that was kinda messed up. He's just really insecure, you know? He was always talking and moving like he's trying to be as impressive as possible, and he got really defensive whenever I asked him what he planned to actually do with his powers beyond selling them."
I pour myself a drink from the minibar. "I know the type."
"Not like this. I think he tried to hit on me, but honestly I couldn't tell if he was just showing off. He- is that lemonade?"
I look down at my glass. "I don't really drink alcohol for recreation. I went through dad's old collection because he prided himself on how expensive it was, and pouring it all down the toilet was a little too petty even for me."
"Um. Right. Anyway, here's how much he said it would cost to hire him."
I read the slip of paper she gives me. I read it again.
"I could buy an island for less than this."
"Yeah, he said that there's a lot of people trying to buy his services, so that number's probably going to go up."
"Ugh. The Board's going to hate me for this. Anything else?"
"Yeah, two things. The first is that Atlas has another superpower."
"What, on top of the super-strength and flying?"
"Well, super-strength is kinda the wrong word. He doesn't have to be touching something to mess with it. He wasn't very clear on the details, but he said he could pick up a building just by looking at it."
"Well that's...terrifying. What's the other thing?"
"He said that he ran into another Demi like him."
"Another super-strong flyer?"
"Yeah, apparently they almost collided over the city last night. The other guy was black, wearing a hoodie with jeans , and surrounded by 'silvery mist'. Atlas was pissed because he flew off to save people from a burning building without charging them, or something like that."
That was worrying, but also opened possibilities. Specifically, the possibility of finding a replacement for Atlas that didn't cost an island.
We lapse into silence as I contemplate these new developments, which Miss Vestries breaks after about five seconds.
"Okay, I have to ask."
"Well only if you have to." I say with a smile. I'm in a very rare good mood today and I'm trying to savor it.
"What the hell are you planning?" She blurs out, carefully scanning my face.
"Well, you'll have to be more specific than that. I have a lot of plans."
She glares at me before responding. "In the last month you've recruited a team of lawyers who specialize in defending against lawsuits, a spin doctor who protects the evilest bastard in the city, and you've just set up this scheme to get a bunch of medical students under your thumb."
"You sound like I'm forcing them to sign up."
"Do you know how much student debt can ruin someone's life? Any one of them would cut off their right arm and give it to you for a chance like this."
"So? I'm saving a generation of students from crippling debt at the hands of a decaying institution. I don't see your point."
"My point is that you look like you're going to war. You have a team of lawyers and a PR Department to make sure you get away with whatever the hell you want, and doctors to patch you up if anybody tries to put a hit on you." She leans forward, a rather disturbing mania creeping into her eyes. "What. Are. You. Planning."
I feel my mood shrivel like a raisin as I return her glare.
"Why do you want to know? Is your dad so desperate to find out that he sent you to interrogate me?"
"I want to know if I'm working for a rising mob boss."
I chuckle, mind scrambling to form a reply that will stop her from digging further, which is rendered unnecessary by her next bombshell.
"I followed you to the parking garage. You were fucking having tea with Granny Mercy."
What?
"What were you thinking?" I hiss between my teeth. "Do you have any idea how much danger you're in? She's insane. She could have killed you! She still might. The first thing you should have done was go to the police and hope they put you in witness protection."
"Wait, you want me to tell the police?"
"No, you should want you to tell the police. That was idiotically risky of you."
She's raises an eyebrow.
"I just told you I saw you talking to a mob boss. Why are you lecturing me about my safety?"
"And that's another thing. If you thought I was a mob boss, why would you tell me in person? Never blackmail someone to their face-"
"I'm not blackmailing you." She says, stopping me mid-rant "I just wanted to find out why. You're always talking about how corrupt your dad was, why are dealing with Granny?"
Wasn't it obvious?
"So I can destroy her. I'm going to worm my way into her organization, replace or co-opt her people, then stab her in the back."
She blinks for a few seconds, for some reason taken aback by what I said, even though it was perfectly logical.
"That's why you're collecting all these defenses? To take out Clemency?"
I shrug. "Among other things. I'll admit I'm not thinking very long-term right now. There's been a lot of changes since I ran away, superheroes being the most dramatic. At the moment I'm focused on learning and setting up infrastructure for when I do make my move. But yes, Clemency is going down. I'm hoping to take out organized crime in the Citadels before I reach my thirties."
She's looking at you with a mixture of bewilderment and grudging respect.
"You don't dream small, do you?"
I pour myself another glass of lemonade.
"Well, now you know who you're working for." I say as I glance out the window to see the bright lights of the concert hall.
"Ah, we're here. How's my tie?"
"Crooked."
I straighten it as I step out, my spine complaining as it uncurls from the cramped limo.
Sophia rolls down the window as I make last-minute adjustments to my tux. "You really think you can clean out the entire underworld?"
I twirl my cane before using it to push up the brim of my top hat.
"Oh, I don't know. It would make a good start."
And with that suitably dramatic end to our conversation, I twirl around and stride into the auditorium.
-----------------
I feel my good mood returning as I find my seat. This concert is pretty much a reward to myself for good behavior. I haven't attacked anyone, I kept the drinking to a minimum, and best of all I haven't collapsed into a ball of depression and self-loathing yet. Anything can be a victory if you set your standards low enough.
The hall fills with applause as Dr. Nero steps onto the stage. She cuts a rather striking figure, a tall and thin build with close-cropped red hair and piercing green eyes. This close, her eyes also appear bloodshot, and I see her nonchalantly reach up to wipe away a tear as she walks to the stand. It appears that something has gone very wrong offstage, although not wrong enough to stop the performance.
And what a performance.
As the bow glides across the strings, the auditorium rings with a collective exhalation. I feel my irises dilate as the cords grow darker as if I was the violin and the bow was sawing through my bones and the perfect mathematical serenity of the stars flowed through me in place of blood my fingers joyfully tapped across the numbers as the refrain caressed my useless ego promising everything and I was the gods as I looked down I was the instrument and the universe was playing me-
...
Silence.
What happened? The stage is empty and the music is gone.
I stumble through the seats trying to find joy, or her, or whatever it was. I could feel it in my b rain and everything made sense and where did the music go?
"I hated him."
Vestries is here. Huh, he must have come to the concert as well. Nero's concert. Nero. She did something.
"I loved him, and he kept me around because I was useful." Vestries is still talking. "He told me I was pathetic. That only he would even bother to keep me around."
"I know." I say, holding my head and trying to think. "He told me and mom the same thing. Every day."
"You're just like him." Vestries is crying now. I think I am too. "The way you talk, the way you move. It's exactly like he did."
"You think I don't know that?" I snap "I can't escape him. No matter what I do, how hard I try, I can't stop myself from becoming him."
Some part of my brain really thinks I shouldn't be saying this. The rest is too filled with rage and pain and violin music to care.
"But you," I spit as I grab his jacket "You could have done something. Me and mom had to live with him, but you were just one of his playthings. You could have stopped him. You could have stopped her."
"I did what I could. It wasn't enough." He at least has the decency to look ashamed.
"Oh please." I sneer. "What could you possibly have done?"
"What do you think? I'm the one who killed him."
---------------------
Arc end.
Testimony(testimonies are a brief perspective from the viewpoint of another character whose life you've affected with your choices. Pretty much like an Interlude in Worm)(choose 1):
[ ] Mike Nox, the former accountant
[ ] Saphrina Nero, the philosopher
[ ] Madam Clemency, the widow
[ ] Victoria Oracle, the "public relations consultant"
[ ] Arthur Maxel, the people's defender
[ ] Aleksandra Necroticov II, intern
[ ] Detective Gilgamesh, the bloodhound
[ ] Atlas, the objectivist
[ ] Harold Vestries, the board member
[ ] Sophia, the assistant
[ ] ???, the Nemesis
-[X] Baking: Empire buys certain chemicals in bulk as part of manufacturing. These chemicals can be used for...other purposes. Arrange for Aunty to get some of every shipment, and she'll give you something sweet in return. [50% chance of +1 Notoriety every turn, +2 Income]
-[X] Create a system where medical students will receive tuition in return for a twenty-year contract after graduation. [-1 Fund, +1 Expense, -1 Notoriety, eventual steady supply of young doctors]
-[X] Manipulate Mr. Vestries to my side [Requires multiple steps. 0/3 completed. 70% chance of success. 10% chance of critical success]
-[X] Interview Atlas. I strongly disagree with his politics, however "objective" he claims to be, but having a superhero on payroll would be extremely useful.
-[X][Assistant] Attend Nero's Concert. I have long been an admirer of Dr. Nero's, but I have a much more mercenary goal than high art. All of high society will be there, and it would be an excellent opportunity to rub shoulders with the rich and powerful.
1 Action Over.
Penalty: Overworked(1 less personal action next turn)
Vestries: success, no crit. 1/3 steps.
The art deco spires of the city fly past, gleaming darkly through the limousine's tinted windows.
"So, Atlas is a complete jerk."
Miss Vestries has turned out to be surprisingly competent. I can't trust her with anything incriminating of course, but she's still been a great help.
I nod. "I suspected as much after reading his interview. I've never seen anyone put so much thought into being as selfish as humanly possible."
"It wasn't really the philosophy, although that was kinda messed up. He's just really insecure, you know? He was always talking and moving like he's trying to be as impressive as possible, and he got really defensive whenever I asked him what he planned to actually do with his powers beyond selling them."
I pour myself a drink from the minibar. "I know the type."
"Not like this. I think he tried to hit on me, but honestly I couldn't tell if he was just showing off. He- is that lemonade?"
I look down at my glass. "I don't really drink alcohol for recreation. I went through dad's old collection because he prided himself on how expensive it was, and pouring it all down the toilet was a little too petty even for me."
"Um. Right. Anyway, here's how much he said it would cost to hire him."
I read the slip of paper she gives me. I read it again.
"I could buy an island for less than this."
"Yeah, he said that there's a lot of people trying to buy his services, so that number's probably going to go up."
"Ugh. The Board's going to hate me for this. Anything else?"
"Yeah, two things. The first is that Atlas has another superpower."
"What, on top of the super-strength and flying?"
"Well, super-strength is kinda the wrong word. He doesn't have to be touching something to mess with it. He wasn't very clear on the details, but he said he could pick up a building just by looking at it."
"Well that's...terrifying. What's the other thing?"
"He said that he ran into another Demi like him."
"Another super-strong flyer?"
"Yeah, apparently they almost collided over the city last night. The other guy was black, wearing a hoodie with jeans , and surrounded by 'silvery mist'. Atlas was pissed because he flew off to save people from a burning building without charging them, or something like that."
That was worrying, but also opened possibilities. Specifically, the possibility of finding a replacement for Atlas that didn't cost an island.
We lapse into silence as I contemplate these new developments, which Miss Vestries breaks after about five seconds.
"Okay, I have to ask."
"Well only if you have to." I say with a smile. I'm in a very rare good mood today and I'm trying to savor it.
"What the hell are you planning?" She blurs out, carefully scanning my face.
"Well, you'll have to be more specific than that. I have a lot of plans."
She glares at me before responding. "In the last month you've recruited a team of lawyers who specialize in defending against lawsuits, a spin doctor who protects the evilest bastard in the city, and you've just set up this scheme to get a bunch of medical students under your thumb."
"You sound like I'm forcing them to sign up."
"Do you know how much student debt can ruin someone's life? Any one of them would cut off their right arm and give it to you for a chance like this."
"So? I'm saving a generation of students from crippling debt at the hands of a decaying institution. I don't see your point."
"My point is that you look like you're going to war. You have a team of lawyers and a PR Department to make sure you get away with whatever the hell you want, and doctors to patch you up if anybody tries to put a hit on you." She leans forward, a rather disturbing mania creeping into her eyes. "What. Are. You. Planning."
I feel my mood shrivel like a raisin as I return her glare.
"Why do you want to know? Is your dad so desperate to find out that he sent you to interrogate me?"
"I want to know if I'm working for a rising mob boss."
I chuckle, mind scrambling to form a reply that will stop her from digging further, which is rendered unnecessary by her next bombshell.
"I followed you to the parking garage. You were fucking having tea with Granny Mercy."
What?
"What were you thinking?" I hiss between my teeth. "Do you have any idea how much danger you're in? She's insane. She could have killed you! She still might. The first thing you should have done was go to the police and hope they put you in witness protection."
"Wait, you want me to tell the police?"
"No, you should want you to tell the police. That was idiotically risky of you."
She's raises an eyebrow.
"I just told you I saw you talking to a mob boss. Why are you lecturing me about my safety?"
"And that's another thing. If you thought I was a mob boss, why would you tell me in person? Never blackmail someone to their face-"
"I'm not blackmailing you." She says, stopping me mid-rant "I just wanted to find out why. You're always talking about how corrupt your dad was, why are dealing with Granny?"
Wasn't it obvious?
"So I can destroy her. I'm going to worm my way into her organization, replace or co-opt her people, then stab her in the back."
She blinks for a few seconds, for some reason taken aback by what I said, even though it was perfectly logical.
"That's why you're collecting all these defenses? To take out Clemency?"
I shrug. "Among other things. I'll admit I'm not thinking very long-term right now. There's been a lot of changes since I ran away, superheroes being the most dramatic. At the moment I'm focused on learning and setting up infrastructure for when I do make my move. But yes, Clemency is going down. I'm hoping to take out organized crime in the Citadels before I reach my thirties."
She's looking at you with a mixture of bewilderment and grudging respect.
"You don't dream small, do you?"
I pour myself another glass of lemonade.
"Well, now you know who you're working for." I say as I glance out the window to see the bright lights of the concert hall.
"Ah, we're here. How's my tie?"
"Crooked."
I straighten it as I step out, my spine complaining as it uncurls from the cramped limo.
Sophia rolls down the window as I make last-minute adjustments to my tux. "You really think you can clean out the entire underworld?"
I twirl my cane before using it to push up the brim of my top hat.
"Oh, I don't know. It would make a good start."
And with that suitably dramatic end to our conversation, I twirl around and stride into the auditorium.
-----------------
I feel my good mood returning as I find my seat. This concert is pretty much a reward to myself for good behavior. I haven't attacked anyone, I kept the drinking to a minimum, and best of all I haven't collapsed into a ball of depression and self-loathing yet. Anything can be a victory if you set your standards low enough.
The hall fills with applause as Dr. Nero steps onto the stage. She cuts a rather striking figure, a tall and thin build with close-cropped red hair and piercing green eyes. This close, her eyes also appear bloodshot, and I see her nonchalantly reach up to wipe away a tear as she walks to the stand. It appears that something has gone very wrong offstage, although not wrong enough to stop the performance.
And what a performance.
As the bow glides across the strings, the auditorium rings with a collective exhalation. I feel my irises dilate as the cords grow darker as if I was the violin and the bow was sawing through my bones and the perfect mathematical serenity of the stars flowed through me in place of blood my fingers joyfully tapped across the numbers as the refrain caressed my useless ego promising everything and I was the gods as I looked down I was the instrument and the universe was playing me-
...
Silence.
What happened? The stage is empty and the music is gone.
I stumble through the seats trying to find joy, or her, or whatever it was. I could feel it in my b rain and everything made sense and where did the music go?
"I hated him."
Vestries is here. Huh, he must have come to the concert as well. Nero's concert. Nero. She did something.
"I loved him, and he kept me around because I was useful." Vestries is still talking. "He told me I was pathetic. That only he would even bother to keep me around."
"I know." I say, holding my head and trying to think. "He told me and mom the same thing. Every day."
"You're just like him." Vestries is crying now. I think I am too. "The way you talk, the way you move. It's exactly like he did."
"You think I don't know that?" I snap "I can't escape him. No matter what I do, how hard I try, I can't stop myself from becoming him."
Some part of my brain really thinks I shouldn't be saying this. The rest is too filled with rage and pain and violin music to care.
"But you," I spit as I grab his jacket "You could have done something. Me and mom had to live with him, but you were just one of his playthings. You could have stopped him. You could have stopped her."
"I did what I could. It wasn't enough." He at least has the decency to look ashamed.
"Oh please." I sneer. "What could you possibly have done?"
"What do you think? I'm the one who killed him."
---------------------
Arc end.
Testimony(testimonies are a brief perspective from the viewpoint of another character whose life you've affected with your choices. Pretty much like an Interlude in Worm)(choose 1):
[ ] Mike Nox, the former accountant
[ ] Saphrina Nero, the philosopher
[ ] Madam Clemency, the widow
[ ] Victoria Oracle, the "public relations consultant"
[ ] Arthur Maxel, the people's defender
[ ] Aleksandra Necroticov II, intern
[ ] Detective Gilgamesh, the bloodhound
[ ] Atlas, the objectivist
[ ] Harold Vestries, the board member
[ ] Sophia, the assistant
[ ] ???, the Nemesis