Whispers from the Deep - Biplanes & Bisexuality

[open_sketch]

WHISPERS IS NOW A PHYSICAL BOOK YOU CAN GET!


View: https://twitter.com/open_sketchbook/status/1501643761771761665

​

Character Sheet

Spoiler: Character Sheet

Isabelle Morgenthau
A Fisher

Isa (right) and her boyfriend Arren (left)

Hard	Keen	Calm	Daring	Wild
+4	-2	+4	+1	-1

Moves
Creepy: When a comrade sees you perform a ritual, overhears your prayers, or sees signs of your alienness, they lose Trust in you. Once they learn one of your Moves, they are no longer affected, but they gain Creepy as well.
Deep Ones: You can call on your patrons to Help you on a roll. On a 1, you Break after this mission.
Blessing: When you dab fresh blood on a piece of working equipment, roll +Calm. On a 16+, take both. On an 11-15, choose 1.

• Take +1 Ongoing with this item this Routine. (+1 Handling for a plane)
• The item cannot break or be lost this Routine. (+1 Armour on 1 Section of the Plane.)

On a miss, you need a bigger sacrifice. Don't disappoint.
Ideomotor Response: Your plane effectively has a programmable autopilot. It does not have to be switched on and off; it "knows" when you are behind the controls.
Soul-Bound: When you paint a rune in blood on an aircraft, you are linked. While in flight, you can take incoming Structure damage as Stress, 1-1. You can take a hit that would strike a Component as Injury, or give incoming Injury to your Engine.
Bond: (Witch move learned from Wulf) When you hold an object of significance and make an emotional connection to it, take 1 Stress. The object becomes a magical Focus, and you learn it's Nature (Earth, Air, Water, Fire, Iron, or Blood).
Contemplation: When you draw a ritual circle and stay within it, roll +Calm. On a 16+, you come out of it about an hour later refreshed; strike 3 Stress or 2 Injury. On an 11-15, it takes the whole night, and you're unreachable in that time.

Mastery
The Bushwack
Ambush Predator: When you strike an enemy who is unaware of your presence, roll with Advantage.
Forced Evade: When you fire to scare an opponent off, spend 1 ammo and roll +Hard. On a hit, instead of dealing damage, choose one: Target dives 1, target climbs 1, target loses speed in a forced turn. On a 16+, roll attack dice on them anyway.
Momentum: When you dive onto a target, add +1 AP.
Scissors Snip: When you disengage, give an ally +3 towards dealing with your target.

Familiar Vices
- Drinking
- Prayer
- Dancing

Vice Progress
- Breaking Stuff: ☑☐☐
- Cannabis: ☑☐☐

Intimacy Move
When you are intimate with another, choose one of you to get a hold. They can spend that hold to give the other a command: if followed, then forward to their next +Stat move, they will always score at least a partial hit, regardless of what the dice say.

If you use this move in the air, there are two holds, and they can be distributed however you agree.

The Company
People

• Isabelle (Fisher): The PC. She's out to find her way in the world. 1 thaler per Routine.
• Arren (NPC- Confidant/Observer): Your cute fish boyfriend. Artist and recently trained observer. 1 thaler per Routine.
• Wulf (Witch): Former bandit leader. Actually half wolf. Hot as hell. Ex-Goth. 1 thaler per Routine.
  • Hard +3, Keen +3, Calm -2, Daring +0, Wild +3 (Avenger)
• Minna Hammerl (Soldier): Inexperienced but highly trained soldier and passionate duelist. Speaks all formal-like. The most beautiful woman in the world. 1 thaler per Routine.
  • Hard +4, Keen +1, Calm +2, Daring -2 (Professional)
• Heinrich Engel (Student): Political science student working on his thesis-slash-manifesto.
• Anny Meldgaard (NPC - Mechanic): A young half-Fischer, half-Himmilvolk woman from Piav, trained by the mechanics there. Looking for adventure and her origins. Blushes red?

Aircraft

• Isa & Arren's Plane: A Teicher Möwen seaplane. Steel frame, liquid-cooled engine. Deeply possessed. 1 thaler per Routine.
• Fang Howl: Wulf's helicopter. An experimental pre-war model. Liquid-cooled radial. Three wolf moon. 1 thaler per Routine.
• Pup: Wulf's Kreuzer Skorpion prototype retrieved from a sealed hanger. Gets a lot out of an underpowered engine.
• Minna's Kobra: An inline-engine powered, wood framed fighter. All around an excellent machine. 1 thaler per Routine.
• Heinrich's Reconstruction: A canard plane with a 30mm cannon in the nose. Awkward and unstable but hits like a train. 1 thaller per Routine.

​

Stress	XP
3	7

​

Cash	Expenses
41	10.5

 

[Artificial Girl]

Piker. We can go higher.



Honestly go for the real Browning and not the mle. 1903 knockoff. FN was an excellent gun manufacturer, and the only nominal advantages to a Ruby are a dodgy and proprietary thumb safety and being striker fired. If hammers are too much a problem (because people don't know that guns go in holsters damnit) then we can get it bobbed on the cheap.

Click to shrink...

Fair 'nuff. Since we're in a weird war kinda world I just want to go with something that doesn't show up all the time like the M1911, Mauser, or Luger. Let's see some of the other cool auto-pistols that were around.

Hell why not a Steyr M1912 except with a box mag? That aesthetic tho.

 

[7734]

Fair 'nuff. Since we're in a weird war kinda world I just want to go with something that doesn't show up all the time like the M1911, Mauser, or Luger. Let's see some of the other cool auto-pistols that were around.

Hell why not a Steyr M1912 except with a box mag? That aesthetic tho.

Click to shrink...

I'd agree with you, but honestly a Mauser pistol is about as good as we're gonna get with an automatic gun that isn't a block of blocks.

edit: god damn it we're sky pirates we have an aesthetic to use here. A Type 14 (not the hand grenade) Nambu would be good, or a Bergman-Bayard. Would be interesting to see if the Goths manufactured in their own calibers, though.

 

[Artificial Girl]

I'd agree with you, but honestly a Mauser pistol is about as good as we're gonna get with an automatic gun that isn't a block of blocks.

edit: god damn it we're sky pirates we have an aesthetic to use here. A Type 14 (not the hand grenade) Nambu would be good, or a Bergman-Bayard. Would be interesting to see if the Goths manufactured in their own calibers, though.

Click to shrink...

Oh if we're going for the aesthetic it HAS to be the Bergman-Bayard.

 

[brmj]

Piker. We can go higher.

Honestly go for the real Browning and not the mle. 1903 knockoff. FN was an excellent gun manufacturer, and the only nominal advantages to a Ruby are a dodgy and proprietary thumb safety and being striker fired. If hammers are too much a problem (because people don't know that guns go in holsters damnit) then we can get it bobbed on the cheap.

Click to shrink...

A couple choice excerpts from the wikipedia page:

It used a unique long recoil rotating bolt action which ejected spent cartridges straight to the rear,

Click to shrink...

The captain in charge of tests of the Mars at the Naval Gunnery School in 1902 observed, "No one who fired once with the pistol wished to shoot it again". Shooting the Mars pistol was described as "singularly unpleasant and alarming".

Click to shrink...

This does not inspire confidence, despite the interesting aesthetics.

 

[open_sketch]

Let's put the largest dumbest pistol there is in the hands of notably smol Isa Morgenthau.

This is not snark I legit think that's amazing.

 

[open_sketch]

Need a tiebreaker and then update.

 

[7734]

Let's put the largest dumbest pistol there is in the hands of notably smol Isa Morgenthau.

This is not snark I legit think that's amazing.

Click to shrink...

Wait until you look at the cartridge- a .45 Mars Long is a hell of a lot more bullet than a .45 ACP or even a .45 Colt

Article:

Case type Rimless, straight
Bullet diameter 11.40 mm (0.449 in)
Neck diameter 12.06 mm (0.475 in)
Shoulder diameter 12.07 mm (0.475 in)
Base diameter 12.65 mm (0.498 in)
Rim diameter 12.57 mm (0.495 in)
Rim thickness 1.07 mm (0.042 in)
Case length 27.76 mm (1.093 in)
Overall length 35.66 mm (1.404 in)

Now, for comparison, a .45 Automatic Colt Pistol

Article:

Case type Rimless, straight
Bullet diameter .451 in (11.5 mm)
Neck diameter .473 in (12.0 mm)
Base diameter .476 in (12.1 mm)
Rim diameter .480 in (12.2 mm)
Rim thickness .049 in (1.2 mm)
Case length .898 in (22.8 mm)
Overall length 1.275 (32.4 mm)

This doesn't look like much... until we see the memetic Fat Boolet ACP with it's modern loading 483 joules (higher cartridges get up to 796 joules and that will break most average guns wide open so I don't count it) versus the .45 Mars Long at an antique loading of 950 joules.

Nine Hundred Fifty God Damn Joules.

For continual reference, a modern assault rifle 5.56 round is about twelve hundred joules. This pistol has, roughly, about three quarters the energy on target as an M-16. We can probably kill airplanes on the tarmac with this thing.

 

[Simon_Jester]

Fair 'nuff. Since we're in a weird war kinda world I just want to go with something that doesn't show up all the time like the M1911, Mauser, or Luger. Let's see some of the other cool auto-pistols that were around.

Hell why not a Steyr M1912 except with a box mag? That aesthetic tho.

Click to shrink...

The thing I like about the Mauser pistol, which is a bit unusual for the era, is that the normal version was actually designed with a holster that doubled as a detachable stock so you could turn it into a (very short barreled) semi-automatic carbine. It didn't come up much in the era, but for a short time there it was the next best thing to a submachine gun that you could actually get.

Wait until you look at the cartridge- a .45 Mars Long is a hell of a lot more bullet than a .45 ACP or even a .45 Colt

...

This doesn't look like much... until we see the memetic Fat Boolet ACP with it's modern loading 483 joules (higher cartridges get up to 796 joules and that will break most average guns wide open so I don't count it) versus the .45 Mars Long at an antique loading of 950 joules.

Nine Hundred Fifty God Damn Joules.

For continual reference, a modern assault rifle 5.56 round is about twelve hundred joules. This pistol has, roughly, about three quarters the energy on target as an M-16. We can probably kill airplanes on the tarmac with this thing.

Click to shrink...

7734, open_sketchbook has the right of it. Isabelle needs a self-defense gun suitable for a woman who probably weighs less than a hundred pounds soaking wet.

 

[samdamandias]

7734, open_sketchbook has the right of it. Isabelle needs a self-defense gun suitable for a woman who probably weighs less than a hundred pounds soaking wet.

Click to shrink...

Then vote for hand cannon so we can get an Ithaca Auto and Burgler.

It is a pistol, officially. Just one that happens to be a double-barreled shotgun.

 

[Jeboboid]

[X] Stop Wulf.
-[X] Maybe we can give this kid a second chance. Try and fix what the Goths have broken.

[X] A automatic pistol (for yourself when you get to your own body)

 

[open_sketch]

X] Stop Wulf.
-[X] Maybe we can give this kid a second chance. Try and fix what the Goths have broken.

[X] A automatic pistol (for yourself when you get to your own body)

This shit is locked. Roll 2d10+4 please.

 

[samdamandias]

Rolling. May RNGesus smile.

Okay. That's an 11, so a partial. Interesting

samdamandias threw 2 10-faced dice. Total: 7

 

[7734]

Then vote for hand cannon so we can get an Ithaca Auto and Burgler.

It is a pistol, officially. Just one that happens to be a double-barreled shotgun.

Click to shrink...

I know lots of fun guns. Don't challenge me, man. We can always get stupider.

7734, open_sketchbook has the right of it. Isabelle needs a self-defense gun suitable for a woman who probably weighs less than a hundred pounds soaking wet.

Click to shrink...

This quest has never been about logic, and if this was a pistol I expected to use I'd say Bergman every time (basically the Mauser but with detachable box clips stock) but y'know, style.

Also we can probably get a wire stock later.

 

[10ebbor10]

Isa probably thinks Wulf was there to be taken off to the factories or the breeding camps, instead of there to be a soldier. It's a distinction that matters when she's thinking about killing another soldier who was probably recruited the same way she was, and all that? More empathy.

Click to shrink...

Wulf is faeborn though, and noticeably so. That means she'd be condemned to the work camps.

"Their work camps. If you're too old to be brainwashed or have their kids, or if you're Skyborn or fae-touched, that's where you go. They have old machines they dug out of the cities there, so they can keep the war industry going. Nobody ever gets out."

Click to shrink...

 

[Dwergar]

So, can we press that Goth into joining this flying circus?
We probably can procure a plane if need be - a recoverable one from this joint, at the least - at reasonable cost.

 

[10ebbor10]

Honestly, I can not see that going well.

The Goth is a child soldier, but he's a child soldier working for an evil regime that has done a lot of evil stuff. It's almost certain he participated, as the Goth seem like the kind to have evil initiation rituals.

Also every city he goes too is going to string him up the moment they discover what he is.

 

[open_sketch]

You think it was your mental connection that slowed her down long enough for you to act. The horror when she drew the knife, the revulsion at what she was going to do, and at yourself for almost agreeing. She hesitated just enough enough for you to reach her, to pull her away. She was so dazed she barely reacted.

"What are you doing?" You screamed.

She shook her head (your head), like she was snapping out of something, then she lunged, trying to get past you. Not a chance. Your body were small and hurt and weak, Wulf's body was strong and fit and healthy. You pushed her against the wall easily, like she was a child.

"Stop!" You ordered again. With the anger and disgust in your voice, it came out as an animalistic growl.

"NO!" Wulf screamed, her face flushed blue. "Let me at him!"

She made another move and you stepped in, pressing her back with your forearm. She bite your arm (her arm) and both of you gasped in pain at once: the knife slid from her fingers and clattered to the floor.

Right, she felt what you felt, you remembered.

"And you have no idea what I'm feeling!"
​

This time, when she came at you, you weren't gentle. You punched her square in your gunshot wound, and she fell with a wheeze to the ground.

You turned to see Arren standing there, mouth agap, rifle held in shaking hands. To his mind, watching his girlfriend get the shit beat out of her.

"It's fine, Arren. I'll be okay. Go make sure he doesn't bleed out." You pointed to the wounded Goth. Arren hesitated, but then ran over, pulling pilfered bandages out of his bag.

You knelt down next to Wulf (to your body), who was gasping in pain against the wall.

"Why did you stop me?" She managed. "He deserves it."

"Probably." You said. "But I'm not letting my friend become a murderer."

"... too late, little fish." She said, a pained smile on her face. "Waaaaaay too late. There's a lot of blood on those hands." She said.

"Well, try not to get any on mine, okay?" You replied, sitting down next to her.

"Girl, this is who we are. We're butcher birds. And that one has it coming more than most. You're gonna have to get used to that."

You sat in silence, thinking that over, listening with Wulf's ears as the heart thumping in the chest near you slowed back down, as Arren a shelf over ministered to his patient, whispering reassurances. That's not why you were up here. You don't remember much of the bad old days, but there was a time where the only thing standing between the end and the few places left on earth were some brave pilots in bright planes. The ones that saved Irma's hometown, the ones who protected the trade planes to your village, the ones Checkmate used to be. The ones you'd dream about being as a kid, who even the whispers admired. Who would ride up and fight dragons and monsters and rampaging armies, fly night and day to protect towns and save people. Heroes.

"Bullshit." Wulf spat. "It was never all that."

"How do you know?" You said accusingly.

"Because they didn't save me."


---

Arren moved the prisoner out a few minutes later, out into the light where he could see what he was doing. But the two of you stayed put. Wulf took her canteen off your belt and took a swig, then offered it to you.

Yep, it was whiskey. Figures.

She explained to you where she came from. How when she was young, men just like this came to her village. How the last time she saw her mother was lying face down on the floor of her home as a soldier dragged her away.

"They sorted us. Like animals. Boys there, girls there. Checked our skin for the touch of magic. It was obvious with me, but... they didn't send me back right away. They thought I could be useful." She laughed. No mirth. "For tracking people down. They gave me a uniform, said it was a privilege for someone like me. For a dog." She spat the syllables. Hund. "That's what they called me. I didn't even have a name to them. When people tried to escape, they made me follow them. Made me watch the punishments, until I couldn't take it anymore. I tried to refuse once, and... they said I didn't need my eyes to track..."

You didn't know what else to do, so you embraced her. Her eyes were wet against your shirt.

"I... my mum had taught me just enough. I didn't have any focuses except... my blood, but... The last time they took me out hunting, I escaped. Ran through the woods for days, maybe, until I found somewhere. Fell in with the gang."

"I'm sorry." You said. You didn't know what else to say. You considered maybe trying to compare her situation to the wounded young man, who probably didn't have much of a choice either...

"I'm nothing like him. I didn't stay. I'm not a dog." She sobbed. "I'm not."

"You aren't." You assured her. No wonder she didn't care. She's already done the worst things she'll ever do.

You sat silently a while, until her tears stopped. She wiped them away with a forearm and, of all things, laughed.

"You know, Isa, being inside you isn't as fun as I thought it would be." She said.

"You used that joke already." You reminded her, though it made you smile anyway. "How do you feel?"

"Like shit. Everything hurts. And these fucking cramps. How do you live like this?"

"I meant emotionally, dummkopf." You said.

"... better." She admitted.

"Good." You retrieved your knife, picked yourself up, and helped her to her feet. "Come on. Let's go help those people."

---

Not long after that, a plane arrived from the town, a big three-engine cargo carrier of some kind. It hadn't been there when you'd landed: it must have arrived and be hastily hired for the job.

The rescued prisoners were helped on board: you tried not to think too hard about what had happened to them during their confinement. Then the equipment: a dozen rifles, the pom-pom gun, the monoplane's engine, the spare parts, medical equipment, food and ammo. With Wulf's permission, you acquired a pistol for yourself from the armoury, just in case. It fit comfortably in Wulf's hands, though you realized as you boarded your plane it might not be the case in yours. Oh well, it was a last-ditch weapon anyway.

Wulf was taking her helicopter back, so you got to climb into your plane with Arren. You'd be towing the triplane home; it had it's engine removed to make it easier, and the crew of the cargo plane tightened the bolts on the wheels to act like brakes. The engine was hastily removed and the fuel drained, making it little more than a kite. It was the easiest way to get it home without disassembling it entirely.

The engines all started and you pulled away from the shattered base as a group. You fit the headphones around your ears as best you could, and as the wind whistled over the windmill to your left, the intercomm came to life.

"Hi Arren." You said, in Wulf's voice.

"Hi Isa." He replied. "There's something different about you. I don't know what it is."

You smiled. "I have no idea what you mean."

"Did you get a haircut?"
​

"Oh goddesses you two are infuriating."
​

Infuriatingly cute, maybe.
​

"I'll concede to that."
​

"How was our patient slash prisoner?" You asked.

"He's currently tied to a stretcher in the cargo plane. He passed out pretty fast, probably pretty bad blood loss. What's the plan with him?"
​

"Good question, Arren."
​

"Stop it! No, not you. Uh, honestly... I dunno. We'll figure it out, okay? But... you know. I'm sort of hoping... well, there's hope for everyone, right?" You explained.

"The sea is vast, and our souls but a drop." Arren recited. "But from that drop comes the sea, and from it's nature, the water's clarity."

"Yeah, exactly." The boy had a head for scripture. Not that you didn't, but you'd trained for it your whole life. Arren just liked reading.
​

"That's some deep shit there."
​

"So... how's the body treating you?" Arren asked.

"Honestly? It's really uncomfortable." You said. "It doesn't... fit right. I mean, I'm appreciating a break from the pain, but... I dunno, something seems off."
​

"You have no idea, girl."
​

"Huh. That makes sense, I guess." Arren said.

"Also, her senses are way different. Her sense of smell is amazing, and her hearing too, but she's pretty colourblind." You said.

"What's that like?"

"Well, red, yellow, and green kinda all look the same, this hazy like... mustard colour, I guess. Everything else is a bit muted. And she can't see ultraviolett at all." You explained.

"Not even a little? Weird."

---

You put down safely and got about the task of sorting everything out. Arren took the prisoners to the doctor, including yours: the doc was not terribly happy about that, but reluctantly agreed to treat him. You helped Wulf and the crew shuffle all the loot into a hanger, and then, exhausted, the sun hanging low in the sky, you staggered back into the tavern together and collapsed onto a table.

"Fuck today." Arren said.

"Agreed."

"Mood."

A round of beer landed in front of you, and you all drank and grumbled about your very bad, no good day.
​

"Wulf flies like a fucking maniac, Isa. She did a full roll without warning me, I almost went out the fucking cockpit. Please never make me fly with her again."

"While we were fighting that guy after we split up, I popped a stitch, and I didn't know what was happening, there was just this weird purple-ish stuff coming down my arm. I almost had a panic attack!"

"Helicopters are monsterous and you're insane for flying one, Wulf. I flew sideways today. Flying sideways is unnatural."

Another round.

"I mean, no, I've never swapped bodies before. On magic mishaps... probably in my top five."
​

"Wulf, how the hell do you reload your gun and fly the helicopter and cast magic? Each one of those is a full-time job!"

"We were like twenty meters from them, I swear. This oil? Not ours. I hit their fucking tank or something with my rifle and it sprayed all over us, but Wulf was behind the engine so most of it missed her..."

Another round.

"I was trying to keep the guy awake and I kept asking his name and he just said 'obersoldat' over and over like... a rank's not a name, dude. A ranks not a name."

"The smell was so bad. For a big disciplined army you figure they could clean up after themselves."

"... these fucking cramps."

Another... okay, maybe not. Wulf had clearly not re-calibrated her tolerances for your much smaller body. She listing sideways against the table and smiling blissfully.

"Hey, hey Isa. Before we do the switcharoo back we should... we should smooch." She stammered. "It'd be fun."

Arren laughed a little too hard.

"Hey! You can join in if you want. Prolly be fu~~un." She said in a sing-song voice.

"Nuh-uh. You girls have fun. That is too weird for me."

"Boooooooring. So, yeah, smooch? I know you're thinking aboooout it." She teased.

Curse your mind link. She was right, you were!
​

"Told you sooooooo."
​

It briefly occurred to you that Wulf might be getting a double-shot of drunk right now, between the body she was in and the mind she was connected to.
​

"Oh shit, that, like, explains it a lot actually."
​

"Yeah, okay! Lemme just go pee first." You said. It was a long day and a lot of beer.

"Ummm..." Wulf looked like she was going to say something, but after a moment she waved her hand. "Nevermind! It's fine."

You staggered off to the bathroom.

---

A few minutes later, you staggered out. Arren back at the bar getting food, and you sat back down in a sort of daze.

"You okay, little fish?" Wulf asked.

"Um. Wulf. I have some questions." You said, your voice coming out very small.

"Oh. Yeah." She said. "Question away."

"Is it a magic thing?" You asked. "Like, did you inheret it from your wolf-dad?"

"Weeell... I mean, no, but I guess, kinda yeah? But no. Not magic."

"Okay. Next question. You are a girl, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Okay. We'll just roll with that. I guess my next question is... buh?"

"Yeah, I agree."

The awkward-est of all silences.

"It's not magic though?"

"Nope."

"Buh."

"Still wanna go make out?" She said. Does she think about anything else?
​

"Also nope."
​

Urgh. Now you were officially with Arren on this one. This was too weird.
​

"That's fair."​

"I'm going to bed." You announced. You considered kissing Arren goodnight, but... no, that was weird too.

You staggered over to your room, then thought twice. Urgh, okay, it probably wasn't right sleeping next to Arren in this body, and you definitely weren't going let Wulf sleep next to him in yours...
​

"Cuddles?"
​

Fine. You stalked over the Wulf's room and threw yourself onto the bed. But I'm little spoon.

Weirdest freitag ever.

---​

​

There's a new day ahead. I'm skipping the stress system for this arc because I'm in the middle of rewriting it, so I've replaced it with dumb, borderline lewd comedy instead. Don't worry about it.

Tomorrow is a bright new day. Your planes are already in for repairs, and Wulf already collected your pay, so you have 27 thaler to throw around. What does Isa do first?

[ ] Get your body back.
[ ] Go talk with the prisoner.
[ ] Go hunt for new work.
[ ] Go shopping (Write In)
[ ] Repaint/Upgrade your plane (Write In)
[ ] Make out with Wulf (Nope, too weird still)
[ ] Write In

​

 

[Taut_Templar]

[X] Get your body back.

 

[Dwergar]

We haven't yet got back to the City and Irma, yes?
These 27 thalers - all from Goth's job, without Zinkstadt one?


[X] Get your body back.
[X] Go talk with the prisoner.

 

[open_sketch]

We haven't yet got back to the City and Irma, yes?
These 27 thalers - all from Goth's job, without Zinkstadt one?

Click to shrink...

Yep. You have 13 more coming your way.

 

[10ebbor10]

I'm going to suggest that we don't try the body-switch first, for the convenient fact that Wulf knows healing spells, and it's a great idea to abuse the situation a bit first to get Isa's body patched up.

Anyway :

[ ] Go talk with the prisoner.

Whatever we do, this is going to be a very confusing situation. The Goth thinks Isa planned to murder him, and Wulf is the good guy. The moment we reverse that's going to change. I doubt we'll get him to talk to Isa-Isa, and getting Wulf-Wulf to talk to him isn't going to work well either. So, if we want to talk, we'll have to do it before the swap.

[ ] Go hunt for new work.

Negotiating as bandit leader may have an advantage. On the other hand, Wulf is best at using her reputation, so Isa-Wulf may just come of wierd.

[ ] Go shopping (Write In)

All the opportunities and possibilities. Also, the possibility of messing with Wulf's wardrobe and buying her a warm poncho.

[ ] Repaint/Upgrade your plane (Write In)

Cool stuff, but going to really confuse the ground crews

[ ] Make out with Wulf (Nope, too weird still)

Not sure if this is the bodyswap thing or the other thing.

[X] Plan Poncho
- [X] Go shopping (Write In)

- [X] Get Wulf a Poncho
- [X] First Aid Kit
- [X] Tiny helicopter toy ( Just testing the limits of ideomotor response, can it fly tiny toy aircraft)​

- [X] Go talk with the prisoner.
- [X] Get Your body back
- [X] Repaint/Upgrade your plane (Write In)

- [X] Can't I figure out the upgrades later?​

 

[Dwergar]

Yep. You have 13 more coming your way.

Click to shrink...

I thought that Wulf's compatriots claimed some of the pay on the Goth job...
Or they went for all loot, leaving us all the pay?

 

[open_sketch]

I thought that Wulf's compatriots claimed some of the pay on the Goth job...
Or they went for all loot, leaving us all the pay?

Click to shrink...

They went for the loot. That triplane alone is going to go for a lot of money when they fix it up, plus the food, medical supplies, the new engine parts... they got a really good deal.

 

[10ebbor10]

he new engine parts.

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The apparent importance of this shows that the Goth are basically idiots. Seems like they could easily achieve both a military or economic victory if they wanted too.

 

[Artificial Girl]

[X] Get your body back.
[X] Go talk with the prisoner.