Shimmer, Glimmer, & Gleam - A Quest of Loss & Gain
- Thread starter Morrowlark
- Start date
- Original Sci-Fi Fantasy Horror
- Pronouns
- They/Them
[X] The man from Threshold was right; the new alien life of Domus is beautiful and worth loving
[X] For the new world to be born, the old one has to die
[X] For the new world to be born, the old one has to die
[x] Float the idea of Threshold Innovations assistance with Doctor Heller's request rather than a formal alliance/brain drain
[x] The man from Threshold was right; the new alien life of Domus is beautiful and worth loving
Favours for Favours is a currency old as time, and using one to do another that will ultimately help more people is the way to keep passing it forward. It also further shows Nattie and the rest of TI that Orchid's actions aren't some one-off thing they can try and dismiss. Once with the Strip-Mall Corporate Branch, Twice with Nattie and her people, Thrice with Doctor Heller and the others below. Thats a pattern that most of them will not be able to ignore without being EXTREMELY pessemistic
[x] The man from Threshold was right; the new alien life of Domus is beautiful and worth loving
Favours for Favours is a currency old as time, and using one to do another that will ultimately help more people is the way to keep passing it forward. It also further shows Nattie and the rest of TI that Orchid's actions aren't some one-off thing they can try and dismiss. Once with the Strip-Mall Corporate Branch, Twice with Nattie and her people, Thrice with Doctor Heller and the others below. Thats a pattern that most of them will not be able to ignore without being EXTREMELY pessemistic
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Admittedly, like, how much do we actually know about Threshold Innovations and all the factions involved? We kinda just generally helped out on the principle of helping.
Kermie
Just A Karate Bugman/Bugwoman/Bugthing
- Location
- Somewhere On The Planet
- Pronouns
- He/She/They
[x] Float the idea of Threshold Innovations assistance with Doctor Heller's request rather than a formal alliance/brain drain
[x] The man from Threshold was right; the new alien life of Domus is beautiful and worth loving
If this works, it works. I don't really have any strong opinions on any of the options rn.
[x] The man from Threshold was right; the new alien life of Domus is beautiful and worth loving
If this works, it works. I don't really have any strong opinions on any of the options rn.
We know its where we started, its what potentially fast tracked this apocalypse/caught the eye of something that fast tracked it, and it was a major science and tech sector in a nation with Empire in its name that was receiving extra money from any rich person they could coerce and then the Mob by the end of it. There is reason to have suspicion and pessimism about the motives or ideals of various parts of the organization, especially if some of the unethical ones start taking a deeper interest in Orchid's relation to the Dopple.
Hope for the best, plan for the worst, etc.
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
This vote call brought to you by antibiotics. Antibiotics! Humanity's premier method of casting greater don't die like a bitch!
Aw (/_ \) ← this is a sad face
Waking Nightmares 13: Project Throwback II
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
There's very little rest even for the rescue team you took out, for a little bit. Nattie's troops had their asses run through the fucking metaphorical taffy machine, and between their medics and your doctors you're pretty sure if any of them tried to man a post in the first couple of days they'd get shot by their physician. Or something. A doctor shooting you for failing to get well seems a bit extreme, but also they're very scary when they get like that. You get the fucking business from 'em too, and content yourself with light duties. For the moment.
There are a lot more people than supplies at first, and that means double, triple time for the cooks and very cautious raids in the opposite direction from IU-SBC. No one leaves in teams smaller than six, and they're gone for hours at a time, having to move past the initial freeway drag to smash-and-grab other locations. Blessedly, it appears that most smaller fast food locations don't manifest a Corporate, or if they do it's pretty easy to spot from outside (one is reported in the window of a drive-thru, waving a sign that says MAY I TAKE YOUR ORDER? with what the team describes as 'desperate depression' in its body language), and the resulting bounty of frozen meats and various frozen potato products helps tank what would otherwise be the complete decimation of your accumulated food stores. You also get reports of a hydroponics store, the sort of place that sells supplies for growing plants indoors, which has - against all odds - not become some strange glass jungle of various kinds of cannabis, but instead has grown into a self-sustaining glass garden similar to your roof garden, and from this are fresh vegetables and strawberries taken. Why strawberries? No grapes, no berry-berries, no watermelons or anything. Do people just really like strawberries that much? Are they somehow easier to grow indoors? Does your body have useful skills that are not killing (which you have mixed feelings about) or forklifts (which are amazing)?
Hrm.
Morning of the third day, you're informed that Nattie is asking after you. She's being prepped for surgery (to wit, they gotta take her fucking leg off), and is looking to talk before she gets the good shit looted from the University infirmary, and by 'the good shit' we evidently mean 'the very bad shit but for the gap between what we have and what we need did the gods invent alcohol'. Note to fucking self, find some morphine.
"Hey," Nattie murmurs when you slip into the breakroom that has been converted into your fledgling community's impromptu infirmary, Jill along with you to help translate the things other people say to you that don't make sense. "I never did thank you properly. For saving my ass. Captain's still out of contact, but I know she's gonna make sure we don't get caught out like that again."
Mm. You try to keep a little frown off your face, so you shrug instead, a little helplessly. "You needed help," you answer, which should settle the matter but from the look on Nattie's face it sure doesn't.
"...Miss -" she begins.
Jill clears her throat. "We didn't get the chance to get inta that earlier but Orchid's living that it/its life. Everyone gets it wrong the first time."
"No idea why," you mutter, an exasperated edge on the words. Jill and Nattie are giving you identical Looks, and you throw your hands up in surrender. "Look, whatever - Nattie, while you're still sober I wanted to ask your help in something that I'm hoping isn't a brutal march all the way to the bay. There's some kinda science team stuck down below Salt Bay, they need help."
Nattie frowns, then blinks, then - "Oh son of a bitch, Station 104. Of course they didn't get the chance to evacuate - they're still alive down there?"
You open your mouth to ask how Nattie knows them when Jill(???) interrupts: "Oh gods, I'd forgotten about those guys! I saw a documentary about them - how'd they even get in touch with you, flower?"
You close your mouth.
You open your mouth very carefully: "Doctor Heller can sort of, but not really, possess the spiders. We got in touch when I did the thing I do." Which is not narrowing it down at all, but nameless instinct suggests to you that perhaps explaining your abilities to Natalie Bellman, Civilian Rescue, is not amongst your top 10 plans of all time. "In any event they can't seem to get back out? I assume they had a submersible at one point and uh, don't. Doctor Heller's unconscious so whatever she coulda done about this needs to be translated into what she can do with like...glass dogs and whatever spiders haven't regained their free will."
The excited celebrity-worship(???? QUESTION MARK??????) becomes a sorta 'oof, fuck' frowning and Jill and Nattie looking at each other. The Threshold soldier speaks up first: "Throwback...might be able to help with that. It's not as if we'd get nothing for hitting the warehouses and shipyards either..." She closes her eyes and hisses; her injured leg twitches. "Heh. Maybe I can get a fucking peg leg while I'm there."
"Hey," Jill reproaches.
"Fuck off, I'm not giving you shit," Nattie snaps back. "I'd kick ass and take names with prosthetics like yours, but you know what I did in the time before Impact? Looked up everything it takes to make things like that. If Corporate and the pigs dropped dead right now and we could hire the dragon to fly cross-country for us I'd still be fucked for at least five years, twenty if we can't find a convenient prosthetic surgeon who's not dead. Goddamn squadcar..."
Jill's frown intensifies. You step up, try to put a hand on her shoulder, and she shakes you off, eyes locked on Nattie. "Yeah? That what you think? You're such a badass that you could get a new leg, learn it instantly, and go back to killing slashers?"
Hey...
What's that smell? Your eyes flick around the room, afraid of an electrical fire at first, but no, the scent's not quite right for - it's Jill's legs. The blades are starting to glow, smoking faintly against the floor.
"Come off it," Nattie says in exhaustion. "I can talk mad shit about how long my dick is but I can't fuckin' prove it, can I?"
You're not entirely certain why Jill looks so fuckin' mad but she claps her hand to Nattie's and pulls the soldier half-upright, staring her down. Her body is shaking, and you're not sure if it's violence or outrage or what. The tile is blackening beneath Jill's blades, and you should probably -
"Congratulations," Jill whispers. "Welcome to the dick-measuring contest."
Nattie's injured leg shatters, falls away like the glass from a mirror's frame (sharp chunks of it slide over each other, crashing to the floor, splintering into shards), but rather than nothing on the other side there's a leg remarkably like Jill's. You can see blood flowing through it in little glass veins, rushing in to the pace of Nattie's heartbeat. You're about to ask Jill how she did that when she, and Nattie, both fall unconscious.
You fret.
You dither.
And ultimately you just sorta turn Jill's head aside so she's not pressing her mouth and nose into the cot, and tiptoe backwards out of the room.
Your theory that hanging out with the spiders will help persuade people to be normal about them is proven correct fairly quickly. There are some things to smooth over, though, among them correcting the spider-women's assumption that they need to take their shirts off to get requests fulfilled if someone can't understand their attempts to communicate. In this you have both Sasha and Charles as firm allies, and Charles proves remarkably talented at reading Barbarian Pantomime(tm), which gets the two of you called on a lot to help mediate difficulties.
Can you imagine if you'd just avoided that area? Or come in guns blazing? The man from Threshold had welcomed you to this world, and apologized that it would be 'a fixer-upper'. You should pay that forward.
...You will pay that forward.
The Threshold Internal app rings the morning that Hoch should be arriving at this position; you, Nattie, Sasha, and Jill sit down around your phone as you answer, which instantly produces the voice of the Captain. "Sound off if you're not dead."
Nattie presses the button. "Sorry Captain, I'm afraid I died like six times."
Karl's voice: "More like sixty-nine times, ayyyy."
Sasha and Nattie start laughing, and you blink at them both. Hoch's voice, full of relief, cuts in: "You need an escort?"
Nattie gives you a look, makes sure no one's finger is on the button, and says, "Well...do I? We could stick around while preparations are made, but we're gonna have to move in force to get to the Bay."
Choose 1
[ ] Keep Project Throwback around for a couple weeks while you recover and make preparations
[ ] Send them on ahead to help scavenge for solutions and resources while you rest and prepare for a couple weeks.
There are a lot more people than supplies at first, and that means double, triple time for the cooks and very cautious raids in the opposite direction from IU-SBC. No one leaves in teams smaller than six, and they're gone for hours at a time, having to move past the initial freeway drag to smash-and-grab other locations. Blessedly, it appears that most smaller fast food locations don't manifest a Corporate, or if they do it's pretty easy to spot from outside (one is reported in the window of a drive-thru, waving a sign that says MAY I TAKE YOUR ORDER? with what the team describes as 'desperate depression' in its body language), and the resulting bounty of frozen meats and various frozen potato products helps tank what would otherwise be the complete decimation of your accumulated food stores. You also get reports of a hydroponics store, the sort of place that sells supplies for growing plants indoors, which has - against all odds - not become some strange glass jungle of various kinds of cannabis, but instead has grown into a self-sustaining glass garden similar to your roof garden, and from this are fresh vegetables and strawberries taken. Why strawberries? No grapes, no berry-berries, no watermelons or anything. Do people just really like strawberries that much? Are they somehow easier to grow indoors? Does your body have useful skills that are not killing (which you have mixed feelings about) or forklifts (which are amazing)?
Hrm.
Morning of the third day, you're informed that Nattie is asking after you. She's being prepped for surgery (to wit, they gotta take her fucking leg off), and is looking to talk before she gets the good shit looted from the University infirmary, and by 'the good shit' we evidently mean 'the very bad shit but for the gap between what we have and what we need did the gods invent alcohol'. Note to fucking self, find some morphine.
"Hey," Nattie murmurs when you slip into the breakroom that has been converted into your fledgling community's impromptu infirmary, Jill along with you to help translate the things other people say to you that don't make sense. "I never did thank you properly. For saving my ass. Captain's still out of contact, but I know she's gonna make sure we don't get caught out like that again."
Mm. You try to keep a little frown off your face, so you shrug instead, a little helplessly. "You needed help," you answer, which should settle the matter but from the look on Nattie's face it sure doesn't.
"...Miss -" she begins.
Jill clears her throat. "We didn't get the chance to get inta that earlier but Orchid's living that it/its life. Everyone gets it wrong the first time."
"No idea why," you mutter, an exasperated edge on the words. Jill and Nattie are giving you identical Looks, and you throw your hands up in surrender. "Look, whatever - Nattie, while you're still sober I wanted to ask your help in something that I'm hoping isn't a brutal march all the way to the bay. There's some kinda science team stuck down below Salt Bay, they need help."
Nattie frowns, then blinks, then - "Oh son of a bitch, Station 104. Of course they didn't get the chance to evacuate - they're still alive down there?"
You open your mouth to ask how Nattie knows them when Jill(???) interrupts: "Oh gods, I'd forgotten about those guys! I saw a documentary about them - how'd they even get in touch with you, flower?"
You close your mouth.
You open your mouth very carefully: "Doctor Heller can sort of, but not really, possess the spiders. We got in touch when I did the thing I do." Which is not narrowing it down at all, but nameless instinct suggests to you that perhaps explaining your abilities to Natalie Bellman, Civilian Rescue, is not amongst your top 10 plans of all time. "In any event they can't seem to get back out? I assume they had a submersible at one point and uh, don't. Doctor Heller's unconscious so whatever she coulda done about this needs to be translated into what she can do with like...glass dogs and whatever spiders haven't regained their free will."
The excited celebrity-worship(???? QUESTION MARK??????) becomes a sorta 'oof, fuck' frowning and Jill and Nattie looking at each other. The Threshold soldier speaks up first: "Throwback...might be able to help with that. It's not as if we'd get nothing for hitting the warehouses and shipyards either..." She closes her eyes and hisses; her injured leg twitches. "Heh. Maybe I can get a fucking peg leg while I'm there."
"Hey," Jill reproaches.
"Fuck off, I'm not giving you shit," Nattie snaps back. "I'd kick ass and take names with prosthetics like yours, but you know what I did in the time before Impact? Looked up everything it takes to make things like that. If Corporate and the pigs dropped dead right now and we could hire the dragon to fly cross-country for us I'd still be fucked for at least five years, twenty if we can't find a convenient prosthetic surgeon who's not dead. Goddamn squadcar..."
Jill's frown intensifies. You step up, try to put a hand on her shoulder, and she shakes you off, eyes locked on Nattie. "Yeah? That what you think? You're such a badass that you could get a new leg, learn it instantly, and go back to killing slashers?"
Hey...
What's that smell? Your eyes flick around the room, afraid of an electrical fire at first, but no, the scent's not quite right for - it's Jill's legs. The blades are starting to glow, smoking faintly against the floor.
"Come off it," Nattie says in exhaustion. "I can talk mad shit about how long my dick is but I can't fuckin' prove it, can I?"
You're not entirely certain why Jill looks so fuckin' mad but she claps her hand to Nattie's and pulls the soldier half-upright, staring her down. Her body is shaking, and you're not sure if it's violence or outrage or what. The tile is blackening beneath Jill's blades, and you should probably -
"Congratulations," Jill whispers. "Welcome to the dick-measuring contest."
Nattie's injured leg shatters, falls away like the glass from a mirror's frame (sharp chunks of it slide over each other, crashing to the floor, splintering into shards), but rather than nothing on the other side there's a leg remarkably like Jill's. You can see blood flowing through it in little glass veins, rushing in to the pace of Nattie's heartbeat. You're about to ask Jill how she did that when she, and Nattie, both fall unconscious.
You fret.
You dither.
And ultimately you just sorta turn Jill's head aside so she's not pressing her mouth and nose into the cot, and tiptoe backwards out of the room.
Project Throwback will assist with Station 104
* * * *
Your theory that hanging out with the spiders will help persuade people to be normal about them is proven correct fairly quickly. There are some things to smooth over, though, among them correcting the spider-women's assumption that they need to take their shirts off to get requests fulfilled if someone can't understand their attempts to communicate. In this you have both Sasha and Charles as firm allies, and Charles proves remarkably talented at reading Barbarian Pantomime(tm), which gets the two of you called on a lot to help mediate difficulties.
Can you imagine if you'd just avoided that area? Or come in guns blazing? The man from Threshold had welcomed you to this world, and apologized that it would be 'a fixer-upper'. You should pay that forward.
...You will pay that forward.
Trait Gained: Valet of the Alien World
You will receive more information when examining the new alien life of Domus. When attempting to give peace a chance, you can mitigate one level of damage that may result.
* * * *You will receive more information when examining the new alien life of Domus. When attempting to give peace a chance, you can mitigate one level of damage that may result.
The Threshold Internal app rings the morning that Hoch should be arriving at this position; you, Nattie, Sasha, and Jill sit down around your phone as you answer, which instantly produces the voice of the Captain. "Sound off if you're not dead."
Nattie presses the button. "Sorry Captain, I'm afraid I died like six times."
Karl's voice: "More like sixty-nine times, ayyyy."
Sasha and Nattie start laughing, and you blink at them both. Hoch's voice, full of relief, cuts in: "You need an escort?"
Nattie gives you a look, makes sure no one's finger is on the button, and says, "Well...do I? We could stick around while preparations are made, but we're gonna have to move in force to get to the Bay."
Choose 1
[ ] Keep Project Throwback around for a couple weeks while you recover and make preparations
[ ] Send them on ahead to help scavenge for solutions and resources while you rest and prepare for a couple weeks.
[x] Keep Project Throwback around for a couple weeks while you recover and make preparations
This is a great opportunity to bond with our new allies. Also, if they go, Nattie and Jill's dick measiring contest will likely not happen on screen, and I'm pretty sure that's gonna be both heartwrenching and awesome.
Loving the display of other folks having cool glass powers.
This is a great opportunity to bond with our new allies. Also, if they go, Nattie and Jill's dick measiring contest will likely not happen on screen, and I'm pretty sure that's gonna be both heartwrenching and awesome.
Loving the display of other folks having cool glass powers.
[x] Keep Project Throwback around for a couple weeks while you recover and make preparations
My reasoning here is:
-This gives everyone more recovery time in a safe location while planning and prep is done
-This allows more people to get used to each other and bond before this big mission
-This lets everyone pick through our accumulated tools to bring anything that might be useful to get into the Docks and Warehouses more easily for the big stuff involved in the rescue
-This makes it much easier for all the people here with engineering and water experience to brainstorm initial ideas for best and worst case scenarios in terms of equipment available upon arrival.
-When we do move out, it will be with a large and well defended group, potentially still with escort meeting us here or at a halfway point, that is ready and rested for whatever fight may be needed upon arrival
Obviously this means we're working half blind on what we'll actually have once we get to the Bay in terms of tools and vehicles and resources, but recovery and coordination time cannot be understated when doing an underwater rescue.
My reasoning here is:
-This gives everyone more recovery time in a safe location while planning and prep is done
-This allows more people to get used to each other and bond before this big mission
-This lets everyone pick through our accumulated tools to bring anything that might be useful to get into the Docks and Warehouses more easily for the big stuff involved in the rescue
-This makes it much easier for all the people here with engineering and water experience to brainstorm initial ideas for best and worst case scenarios in terms of equipment available upon arrival.
-When we do move out, it will be with a large and well defended group, potentially still with escort meeting us here or at a halfway point, that is ready and rested for whatever fight may be needed upon arrival
Obviously this means we're working half blind on what we'll actually have once we get to the Bay in terms of tools and vehicles and resources, but recovery and coordination time cannot be understated when doing an underwater rescue.
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
Can't imagine what could be giving that impression.
- Pronouns
- She/Her
it seems we are all in agreement
also seconding the massive amounts of homoeroticism
[x] Keep Project Throwback around for a couple weeks while you recover and make preparations
also seconding the massive amounts of homoeroticism
[x] Keep Project Throwback around for a couple weeks while you recover and make preparations
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
There does seem to be a strong consensus, but I'll give it another hour for folks to be able to catch up and vote and such before I just let 'er rip.
That said, we're near the end of Arc 2 here, so this is my traditional call for your thoughts, feelings, feedback, your impressions of the various characters, and once again for the things you're looking to explore or curious about.
That said, we're near the end of Arc 2 here, so this is my traditional call for your thoughts, feelings, feedback, your impressions of the various characters, and once again for the things you're looking to explore or curious about.
Kermie
Just A Karate Bugman/Bugwoman/Bugthing
- Location
- Somewhere On The Planet
- Pronouns
- He/She/They
Pls slow down? I think I'd be ok with one 1.5K update per day, so I can have more time to digest each update.
More Captain/Orchid interactions. Some sort of lore database to store everything we know about Domus/Oneiromancy.
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
To be quite frank the factors affecting update length are my ideas, my actual health, and whether or not I accidentally wrote myself into a corner. The frequency here ain't influencing a damn thing xD
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
Honestly I should probably expand here...
This update "schedule" doesn't come from nowhere. Part of it is simply writing around my work schedule, which I'm trying to keep to during this layoff period so I don't fuck my sleep in half, but a great deal of it is that I cut my teeth in the birthplace of Questing as a format, this being fucking 4chan. And like. It's 4chan, I really do not need to explain a great deal of the problems that motivated me to go elsewhere especially as my work as increasingly attracting a queer audience who wanted to vote but did not feel safe doing so again for very obvious reasons. However, the imageboard hosting also influenced the idea of scheduling there, in no small part because any given thread has a hard time limit and also a hard post limit. Large amounts of discussion could 'kill' a thread early, dooming it to be archived at the pace of the other threads on the same board, and if discussion wouldn't do it, mere time would. Therefore, if a thread was live, your ass was updating as fast as reasonably possible.
Now, let me not absolve myself of blame entirely here. My pace back then was also considered to be, at best, unhinged. But legitimately I cannot imagine taking 2-3 days to vote and then write. Sometimes I can barely wait six hours, how many times have I called a vote early because I'm feeling like an impatient little bitch? So while this format (to wit, a forum) doesn't have the same pressures that influenced the formation of this style...well, it's hanging around, partly due to who I am as a person and partly due to the bit where my audience is still reasonably small so the fear of excluding large swaths of it just doesn't exist.
That said, I'm workshopping some more...mechanical...Quest concepts, and those may need a slower pace just to crunch the numbers/frantically edit the system as I go.
This update "schedule" doesn't come from nowhere. Part of it is simply writing around my work schedule, which I'm trying to keep to during this layoff period so I don't fuck my sleep in half, but a great deal of it is that I cut my teeth in the birthplace of Questing as a format, this being fucking 4chan. And like. It's 4chan, I really do not need to explain a great deal of the problems that motivated me to go elsewhere especially as my work as increasingly attracting a queer audience who wanted to vote but did not feel safe doing so again for very obvious reasons. However, the imageboard hosting also influenced the idea of scheduling there, in no small part because any given thread has a hard time limit and also a hard post limit. Large amounts of discussion could 'kill' a thread early, dooming it to be archived at the pace of the other threads on the same board, and if discussion wouldn't do it, mere time would. Therefore, if a thread was live, your ass was updating as fast as reasonably possible.
Now, let me not absolve myself of blame entirely here. My pace back then was also considered to be, at best, unhinged. But legitimately I cannot imagine taking 2-3 days to vote and then write. Sometimes I can barely wait six hours, how many times have I called a vote early because I'm feeling like an impatient little bitch? So while this format (to wit, a forum) doesn't have the same pressures that influenced the formation of this style...well, it's hanging around, partly due to who I am as a person and partly due to the bit where my audience is still reasonably small so the fear of excluding large swaths of it just doesn't exist.
That said, I'm workshopping some more...mechanical...Quest concepts, and those may need a slower pace just to crunch the numbers/frantically edit the system as I go.
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
My friend, this is the time I take for myself. It's this, reading, videogames, and a staggering amount of adult entertainment. Couple days ago I used the voting period to rip my way through Awaria, in which a Polish gentleman asks the all-important question of how much you're willing to suffer in order to kiss a ghost.
In related news go play Awaria.
In related news go play Awaria.
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[x] Keep Project Throwback around for a couple weeks while you recover and make preparations
As implied, I want to see Nattie and Jill bonding, and maybe see Jill learning to use her new power on some of the other amputees you mentioned in passing. Maybe a "here's how to adapt to your new glass appendages" montage.
What/who is on the caw ranch? Is anyone taking care of them? can they get at their barn? They're close enough to be seen. I want to make a pilgrimage. Maybe there are other creatures there, too. Maybe there's hens laying fucked up stained glass eggs! Maybe there's a flamboyant cock with glass feathers! Maybe there's goats!
How is Asset Protection doing with their new PTSD? They speared a bunch of innocent people. What are folks doing to help each other deal with the emotional tolls of the violent birth of the new world?
Orchid needs to do some more processing about this whole gender, socialized knowledge, and sexuality business. What are the folks who attended the porn analysis thinking about that? Are any of them taking an interest in helping it figure that out? How about that GILF situation? How does Orchid feel about that perfume?
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
Alright, let's do this.
Waking Nightmares 14: The Captain
Morrowlark
You've lost something, haven't you?
You shake your head without a word. Nattie puts her finger on the button: "Negative, Hoch. We're gonna stay, get patched up, and help these folks sock away some supplies. Gods only know the city's still got plenty of to pillage, and they did kinda save our lives. I'll pass the books along to you to be taken to HQ, maybe borrow your medics, and that'll be that."
Silence, for a long moment.
The voice that is yours: "Hoch, text me your position. Out."
When the voice that is yours leaves the call, it ends instantly. Everyone looks around at each other, and then Nattie makes the mistake of trying to be the first to leave. Her blade slips out from under her, and the only reason she doesn't eat a face full of concrete is Jill catching the back of her collar and hauling her up.
"I told you to get a crutch," Jill says, wearily.
"And I told you that I'm the god-queen of big dick mountain," Nattie grumbles. She rests her head against Jill, and grumbles as she's led away.
Hrm.
You don't have to repress the emotions that causes in you, but you're not sure you understand them either. So we're gonna move on.
* * * *
Hoch calls ahead when his 'boys' are ten minutes out or so, and you inform the sentries in turn. You, Jill, Sasha, Nattie, and Chef Nettleson all form the current greeting party; the doctors are too busy, Charles is riding herd on the spiders at the moment, and Andrea's out on a raid of all things. You haven't really had time to meet-and-greet with the noncombatants of IU-SBC yet, but they're just inside your home, conspicuously watching the road into your home's parking lot.
It's not Hoch that you see first, not that you'd know if you did. No. This can't be anyone but her. Same height as you, long auburn hair pulled back into a ponytail, an eyepatch over her right eye. She wears a long coat over the Threshold-issued body armor, with the left sleeve pinned up to her shoulder. She's...gorgeous, you think to yourself; cute like a little doll, with a slightly upturned nose and stunning blue eyes that remind you of the Bay on a clear day. Scars criss-cross her face, mementos of battle, and you gently touch your own face. That's one mystery solved; you'd wondered why some parts of your face feel different from others.
She doesn't come directly to you. When she notices some cars left in the lot, she smoothly changes direction, and looks inside. She makes a 'huh' kinda face before opening the car and slowly running her finger down the statue inside; it peels open, like a cocoon, and releases a shaking and terrified person. You can't hear what she says to it, but eventually she points it in the direction of your store, and it starts limping towards your home while people from inside rush out to meet it.
One car at a time, in no particular hurry, she releases the eight statues you hadn't known what to do about, with only minimal lacerations to show for their trouble. Up on the freeway exit, what can only be Hoch's forces gather and stay some distance away, leaning on cars and keeping their weapons away from their hands. At last, at long last, she walks directly towards you. Sasha bristles, and you put a hand on her shoulder, watching the woman with your face and your voice tuck her only hand into a pocket.
She ignores you completely, turning her head to Nattie. "That thing good on its word?"
Nattie nods. "Yes ma'am. Lost three of the wounded, but I'm not sure they coulda been saved. The wyrm's been stirred up -"
"Thanks, I hadn't noticed," this 'Captain' drawls, sarcastically. Her eyes slide to you, and she sighs. Doesn't seem to know what to say.
At the same time, both of you take out cigarettes, and light up, and if either of you comment on this you're both going to lose your dignity, so nothing is said about it. Nothing at all.
"This gonna be a problem?" you ask, in your softest voice.
And she takes a drag on her cigarette, burns halfway through it in one long pull, and exhales slowly. "You really have no idea what you did to me, do you?" When you shake your head, she chuckles and shakes hers. "Ain't that just the luck. You sleepin' with Nattie?"
"CAPTAIN!"
"No," you answer. "...Not with anyone yet. I still have things to figure - why?"
"Just wanted to figure out why the hell you're borrowing my men. But I'm not sure how much I care." A smaller puff on her cigarette. "...You just might be the only family I have left, which is pretty fucked. The old man would come back to life just to shit a brick if I killed you. Guess I owe him that much."
This conversation is going strange places. You're missing so much context. You keep trying to remember doing to her what she said you did to her but there's just nothing there. Not a damn thing from before that bathroom.
What do you want out of this conversation? Pick 2
[ ] Whatever this Captain thinks she knows about what you are
[ ] A promise to live and let live
[ ] Information on your shared(?) past
[ ] Information on the Captain's goals and plans
[ ] A promise to share resources as necessary
[ ] An explicit agreement that you can keep some of these college students to fill in your skill gaps in the community
Silence, for a long moment.
The voice that is yours: "Hoch, text me your position. Out."
When the voice that is yours leaves the call, it ends instantly. Everyone looks around at each other, and then Nattie makes the mistake of trying to be the first to leave. Her blade slips out from under her, and the only reason she doesn't eat a face full of concrete is Jill catching the back of her collar and hauling her up.
"I told you to get a crutch," Jill says, wearily.
"And I told you that I'm the god-queen of big dick mountain," Nattie grumbles. She rests her head against Jill, and grumbles as she's led away.
Hrm.
You don't have to repress the emotions that causes in you, but you're not sure you understand them either. So we're gonna move on.
* * * *
Hoch calls ahead when his 'boys' are ten minutes out or so, and you inform the sentries in turn. You, Jill, Sasha, Nattie, and Chef Nettleson all form the current greeting party; the doctors are too busy, Charles is riding herd on the spiders at the moment, and Andrea's out on a raid of all things. You haven't really had time to meet-and-greet with the noncombatants of IU-SBC yet, but they're just inside your home, conspicuously watching the road into your home's parking lot.
It's not Hoch that you see first, not that you'd know if you did. No. This can't be anyone but her. Same height as you, long auburn hair pulled back into a ponytail, an eyepatch over her right eye. She wears a long coat over the Threshold-issued body armor, with the left sleeve pinned up to her shoulder. She's...gorgeous, you think to yourself; cute like a little doll, with a slightly upturned nose and stunning blue eyes that remind you of the Bay on a clear day. Scars criss-cross her face, mementos of battle, and you gently touch your own face. That's one mystery solved; you'd wondered why some parts of your face feel different from others.
She doesn't come directly to you. When she notices some cars left in the lot, she smoothly changes direction, and looks inside. She makes a 'huh' kinda face before opening the car and slowly running her finger down the statue inside; it peels open, like a cocoon, and releases a shaking and terrified person. You can't hear what she says to it, but eventually she points it in the direction of your store, and it starts limping towards your home while people from inside rush out to meet it.
One car at a time, in no particular hurry, she releases the eight statues you hadn't known what to do about, with only minimal lacerations to show for their trouble. Up on the freeway exit, what can only be Hoch's forces gather and stay some distance away, leaning on cars and keeping their weapons away from their hands. At last, at long last, she walks directly towards you. Sasha bristles, and you put a hand on her shoulder, watching the woman with your face and your voice tuck her only hand into a pocket.
She ignores you completely, turning her head to Nattie. "That thing good on its word?"
Nattie nods. "Yes ma'am. Lost three of the wounded, but I'm not sure they coulda been saved. The wyrm's been stirred up -"
"Thanks, I hadn't noticed," this 'Captain' drawls, sarcastically. Her eyes slide to you, and she sighs. Doesn't seem to know what to say.
At the same time, both of you take out cigarettes, and light up, and if either of you comment on this you're both going to lose your dignity, so nothing is said about it. Nothing at all.
"This gonna be a problem?" you ask, in your softest voice.
And she takes a drag on her cigarette, burns halfway through it in one long pull, and exhales slowly. "You really have no idea what you did to me, do you?" When you shake your head, she chuckles and shakes hers. "Ain't that just the luck. You sleepin' with Nattie?"
"CAPTAIN!"
"No," you answer. "...Not with anyone yet. I still have things to figure - why?"
"Just wanted to figure out why the hell you're borrowing my men. But I'm not sure how much I care." A smaller puff on her cigarette. "...You just might be the only family I have left, which is pretty fucked. The old man would come back to life just to shit a brick if I killed you. Guess I owe him that much."
This conversation is going strange places. You're missing so much context. You keep trying to remember doing to her what she said you did to her but there's just nothing there. Not a damn thing from before that bathroom.
What do you want out of this conversation? Pick 2
[ ] Whatever this Captain thinks she knows about what you are
[ ] A promise to live and let live
[ ] Information on your shared(?) past
[ ] Information on the Captain's goals and plans
[ ] A promise to share resources as necessary
[ ] An explicit agreement that you can keep some of these college students to fill in your skill gaps in the community