[AW] A day in the life of... Uncle.

edited October 2010 in In-Game
Uncle, the screaming of a boiling tea pot awakens you from your deep sleep. It's warm in your cottage, a far cry from most of the rooms in The Chateau. Tilting your head back and reaching to pull the curtain aside, you can barely see the early morning, rain drizzled twilight through the steamed up windows (Are these boarded up also?). Light is filling the front room and kitchen areas, but you don't remember leaving them on. The hum of the generator and smell of burning gasoline permeate the air.

Still lying in bed, you hear movement come from the kitchen area. What the fuck? Is someone else in here? You wonder who'd have the balls to be in your cottage. Hopefully, it ain't that young officer, Princy who's on CQ tonight. You told him before to not wake you unless it was something of an emergency, yeah? And, why would he be making tea.

And, what about those guards you stationed at the door? Do you keep guards there? How many? Two? Just one? What kind of weapons do they have?

Quiet now. Whoever it is, they've ended the screaming; taken the tea pot off the burner. Sounds like pouring and the clattering of a spoon on glass.

What do you do?
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Comments

  • There've only been guards for the past couple months, in order to discourage any entrepreneurs from sneaking in here in the night and lifting an ammo box out of the other room. I'm pretty sure I'd wake up if someone actually tried to get into my room (too many nights on the road or in the field), but I'm less sure about noticing someone skulking around in the rest of the house.

    Well, obviously. Like now, right? Getting old.

    I slide my legs out from under the quilt, bare feet on the chill floor as I sit up. Just to be careful (though assassins don't usually stop for a spot of tea, in my experience), I stay quiet and take the machete from the hook before levering myself upright. Joints are all creaky from the wet, but ignore that.

    If the situation is charged, let me know and I'll read it, but for the moment I'm just pausing at the door to listen for a moment before I unlock it and step out into the stubby little hall.

    The guards are hand-picked by one of my more trustworthy lieutenants. My daughter-in-law, say. They're scouts, so it's atypical work for them, but they're alert, good with their knives, and I'm at least a little more willing to trust them. Right now there'd be two, coming off the night shift, and there's one at the door at any given point during the day. I've been making a point of getting to know each of them, trying to suss out which might be the weakest link.

    The windows here have iron security grates, and the glass is so far intact.
  • edited October 2010
    It's definitely charged, but let's hold off on that for the moment until you see more. Are you trying to go unnoticed as you move closer to the kitchen? Or, are you just being cautious? Also, let's clarify the layout a bit (we need maps! ha) - it's four rooms right? Are they all connected, or does a hall separate them? Etc...
  • edited October 2010
    Broadly. Barefoot, moving carefully, and I know where the creaky boards and whatnot are. I'd rather be the first to know what's going on, even if the situation is innocent. Didn't get this old by being sloppy.
  • The kitchen and living room (now basically a war/map room) are separated by a low divider but fairly open to one another. The room that used to belong to my daughter is off the war room. There's a short hall coming off the war room that ends at my room ... standing in my doorway looking down the hall, the kitchen is on the right and the front door is on the left. I'll actually post a map.
  • Right on. Gimme a act under fire roll, with the fire being can you get close without being noticed yeah?
  • Acting: #DiceRoller( 2d6+1 )
  • You pause at the door, quiet enough. You can't hear shit though. Ears must be growing weak in your old age. The humming of your generator doesn't help the situation. Your room is dark except for the light streaming from under the kitchen door. So, you unlatch the door and move out into the little hallway.

    From here, you can see the kitchen is empty. There's still a warm burner and a mess on the counter top, where someone made tea. That's not the interesting aspect of this scene. There's a man sitting at a chair in the war room. His back is slightly to you, so you can't see his face from this angle. There's a pistol and a tea cup sitting on the table in front of him. He's looking at someone else in the war room, on the far side where you can't see. The man in the chair raises his finger to his lips and you see he's missing a thumb. That seems familiar to you for some reason.

    You start again, moving carefully, to get a better look at this man's face, but you've made a mistake. You missed a creaky board. The floor squeaks ever so slightly. Not enough to alert the man immediately though.

    You realize that if you continue moving the floor is going to groan and you'll alert the man in the chair. If you stay put, it might buy you a few moments, but he's going to eventually look over toward the kitchen. But, right now, if you move this instant, you can probably snatch him up before he has a chance to grab his firearm. You'll have him in your grasp, machete at his neck. Hell, you could even take him out completely if you want.

    It's your call.
  • If I'm unnoticed, I don't want to go charging in all Rambo-like right off. I have a few moments, so I'll take just one to pause for a heartbeat and assess. I listen for a sec, now I'm this side of the door, and my eyes go to the floor by the door, looking for rainwater, muddy prints, blood ... anything to suggest anything about whoever's here.
  • Read a Sitch: #DiceRoller( 2d6+1 )

    7-9: What's my enemy's true position? With emphasis on enemy.

    10+: Also, who's in control here, and what's my best way out if things go bad?
  • Then I start moving.
  • The door to your cottage is swung open. There's a cold drizzle coming down outside, and it's almost to the point of full daylight. There's still a thick cloud of fog lingering between the cottage and the mansion proper. There's no one outside on the porch. As your eyes wander down to the floor by the door, you notice a clear indication of muddy prints, but not like someone walking, more like the heels of boots being dragged across the floor. A cold chill hits you when you see it; it's Pellet, your day guard, this stupid looking head wrap he wears on his balding head all the time. Prolly his boots that stream across the floor to the war room. If they have Pellet, they must've timed it just right to snatch him up right after the shift change - which means they knew all the details about that fucking shift change.

    That missing fucking thumb. And, then your heart sinks. Yeah, you know it. It's Seville.

    Seville was always different from the rest of Dog Head's captains. While they were crazy, unpredictable, and sometimes loose-cannons, Seville developed his reputation as a cold, calculated and somewhat brilliant motherfucker. He was also ruthless. Attacking women, children, and using pretty much any leverage he could to induce horror and terror into your population's hearts. Sometimes, you even thought Dog Head was hesitant to send in Seville.

    Seville was also responsible for James' death. It's how you first learned about him.

    Why was he here? You know he wouldn't be so careless as to be sitting here with his back to you. Seville is not a frivolous man. Which means, he's thought this out. And, chances are, he's got something of yours. The first thing that comes to your mind is your children's whereabouts and safety.

    What do you do?
  • 'They' have Pellet? Do I think there are other enemies in the house, or just outside the door, or whatever? That's kind of what I was going for by asking for their true position.

    Probably either way, though, I keep going. Not a full out charge, but I cross the remainder of the hall in a few long strides, dropping a little lower and shooting a glance out the door as I pass, making sure I'm not putting my back to anyone.

    It might well be that Seville has this all planned out, but I still go for him. Move up on soft feet and hook an elbow under his chin, forcing his head up and dragging him half up out of the chair. Not enough so he gets his feet under him, but enough to give him a quick jab in the kidney with the butt of my machete. I don't bring the blade into play, since I don't want to slip and kill the fucker.
  • If you think my read of the situation is relevant enough to give a +1, feel free to add it in, but for the moment I think it's just

    seizing Seville by force: #DiceRoller( 2d6+2 )

    7-9: definite hold and little harm

    10+: impress and dismay

    No armor, obviously. I'm wearing a pair of drawstring linen pants, and that's it.
  • Oh, and marking experience.
  • Two things: Yeah, it's definitely 'they' and that's the enemy's true position a) that it's Seville and he's likely got insurance to be where he's at and b) there's someone else in the war room, off to your right where you can't see and they've got Pellet dragged over there. Secondly, it's probably more go aggro at this point, since you've got the drop on them, but, the results are pretty much the same, you just don't take any harm back.

    You spring, as much as an old timer like you can spring, to action, taking a few deep strides over to Seville before he has a chance to react. When you pass by the door, you don't see anyone, but Pellet's firearm is lying in a puddle of mud, soaking up the rain. Beyond that, it's fog.

    You get Seville into the hold and bash the butt of your machete into him to let him know you're not fucking around. You notice there's blood coming from where you hit his side, just a bit, and Seville winces in pain. Looks like he has a cut on his ribs; maybe Pellet got in a swipe with his knife before they captured him. Good on him.

    Seville doesn't make any sudden, drastic moves or resistance. He's going along with you as best he can.

    When you get into a position to see, Pellet is kneeling on the floor, bound and gagged, a broken nose and bruised face. A women you don't recognize, with a head half full of long blonde hair creating a perfect dichotomy with the buzzed half on the other side is behind him. She's wearing a tight leather vest, and leather pants with big mess of straps, buckles and holsters clinging to them.

    She's got a 9mm pistol, the barrel irritating the back of Pellet's head. She looks surprised, her breathing deep and quick, like she's scared maybe.

    Seville's choking out some words.

    "If you kill me, Jean dies..."
  • Now that Seville's not where he's going to be suddenly jerking around or whatever, the machete comes up to his throat, saying I mean business, and I'm dragging Seville sideways along in front of the kitchen divider. In case he has friends behind me out in the fog, and to clear the line of fire if one of my friends gets around to noticing my front door's hanging open. Moving away from Seville's gun, too.

    "Yeah, you got it all figured out, don't you, asswipe? Shut the fuck up."

    Apply pressure with the machete for emphasis. Maybe draws a little blood, maybe not - depends on how recently I sharpened this thing, and I have other things to think about here. I eye the woman, look her up and down again, check her stance, how she's holding her gun. Then meet her eye.

    "Who the hell are you? You work for this fucker?"
  • Going to read her. Whether I spend any hold right now will depend on what kind of roll I get:

    reading a person: #DiceRoller( 2d6+1 )
  • edited October 2010
    Oh, nice. Spend 1 hold: What does she intend to do?
  • The woman is frightened by your display. She certainly doesn't seem to have expected you to get the drop on them, despite their brazen presence in your place. However, she seems very poised and comfortable with that fucking gun, like it's an extension of her. You can tell her finger is already ever so slightly putting pressure on the trigger, ready to spread Pellet's brains all over your nice war room table if she needs to. She's pulled Pellet's head back slightly using his forehead as a lever, and her tall boot is in the back of his knee, pinning him to the ground.

    Her lips, bright red with lipstick don't move.

    Seville responds to your question instead. He seems pretty fucking calm, considering the blade at his throat. He struggles to get a few words out.

    "Lars... You don't want to do this. Let's talk this out."
  • edited October 2010
    You can tell that she is very ready, and capable of putting Pellet out of commission. If Seville goes down, so does Pellet. Then, she plans to turn her gun on you. She doesn't seem to be concerned about leaving here today. Otherwise, she plans to keep Pellet under her lock and keep, follow Seville's orders.
  • edited October 2010
    I growl at Seville, tightening my arm enough to force his head back another inch, maybe cutting off his air a little more.

    "You don't listen too good, do you? Well, ok. What're so antsy to tell me? You have ten, twenty seconds. Just gimme the gist."

    I suppose I relax just enough that he can breath and speak.
  • edited October 2010
    You get a strange whiff from Seville. Smells like... burnt propane? Weird.

    He's holding his thumbless hand up, toward the woman, as if signaling to her that 'it's ok'.

    "Just here for business. You have something... someone we need. Jean'll be fine if you just hand 'im over. You know, Gritch right?"
  • I'm absolutely still, muscles rigid with anger, and have been since I hauled Seville over here. I take a breath, get under control, and ask in an almost reasonable voice:

    "I'm curious. Why would you want Gritch?"
  • Seville takes a moment to respond. He's weighing his response carefully, you can tell.

    "Let's just say, he's got access to something we need. What you really need to be curious about though is how you're going to keep your precious daughter from being gang fucked to death by some of Dog Head's brothers. Now, I know you have a hard on for me, Lars. But, let's drop this whole grabby, touchy shit and work out the details."
  • edited October 2010
    "..."

    "Alright. Let my man there go loose and find someone less beat up to replace him. Someone with a gun in their hands, like your girl there. Then the two of us sit down like we're civilized or something, just four people in the room. You don't want to do that, and I'm going to have to put this knife in your throat and take my chances from there."
  • I'm honestly debating how serious Uncle is about that threat. I think maybe he's not sure how he'd react to a refusal, and he might be open to further finagling, depending. That being the case, I think it's manipulating using threat of violence, rather than going aggro. So:

    manipulate: #DiceRoller( 2d6+1 )
  • Seville seems in agreement, but of course, he wants you to promise something.

    "Alright, Lars. Your young lieutenant, Princy, should be coming along shortly. He's got a gun. And, far as I know, shouldn't be beaten. He's going to make his morning report to you. He's going to have bad news. Just know, we didn't have a part in that. We just want Gritch. Promise you'll keep this shit civil and work out a deal to make the exchange, and you'll be seeing your daughter, and she won't have a scratch on her. Ok?"
  • That was just another mark experience.

    "We can do that."

    But, yeah. I wait until Princy's here before letting Seville relax.
  • Moments later you hear footsteps climbing up onto the porch, and a questioning voice.

    "Pellet? Uncle? Sir? You in here?"

    It's Princy.
  • "Yeah, son. In here."
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