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



  • Princy's already got his rifle out, ready for anything that might have happened when he enters.

    "Ah, fuck! What the hell is going on? You ok, Uncle?"
  • "Just a moment, son. We're at a delicate moment."

    "Can I suggest your friend, Seville, points that thing over here, while my man unties Pellet. Then you'll have a seat and Princy will take up his weapon and tell me what's gone wrong this morning."
  • "Sure thing, Lars. Just remember your promise."

    Seville motions with his hand toward the woman, and she kind of kicks Pellet softly, releasing him."

    Princy cautiously moves over toward Pellet and helps the poor guy to his feet, untying him. The woman doesn't train her weapon on necessarily any particular person here, but you can tell she's ready to fire on someone if the need arises. Princy then escorts Pellet over near the front door. He whispers to you.

    "Boss, I'm sending Pellet to get help."
  • I respond clearly: "Right. Pellet, find Mo and explain the situation. Tell her she's to sort out a guard outside, then relieve Princy in here. Tell her I don't want to see any trouble. Then go see to yourself."

    "Princy, that rifle's not going to be too practical if you need to start shooting in here. Pick up that pistol on the corner and familiarize yourself with it. Make sure it's loaded."

    I eye the woman in leather. Seville, too. How're they looking? Well fed? Well rested? Does it look like they've been living on the margin since Dog Head went down, or do they look like they've landed on their feet?
  • edited October 2010
    Pellet just nods, holding his side. His lip has kind of swollen now and he's tonguing the busted part as he listens to your orders.

    "Sure thing, Uncle. I'll be back soon."

    He takes a step, pauses.

    "Sorry about this boss. I don't know how they got the jump on me."

    He takes off.

    Princy slings the rifle over his back and picks up the pistol. He checks the magazine and cocks it.

    "It's loaded, boss."

    You can tell Princy is antsy, maybe trigger happy and ready to turn some bodies cold, like he's seen something recently that's put him in a mood for vengeance.

    I assume you've let Seville go at this point. If so, he's taken up a seat at the war room table again, crossing one leg over the other and massaging his throat where you had him. The woman has moved into a position behind him. They both look well nourished and somewhat clean, not like they've been traveling for some time. Seville's, I wouldn't say 'bright and cheery', but he's calm and collected, generally in a decent mood considering he's surrounded by at least forty of your fucking hyenas. You can tell the woman is still quite frightened by you. She never looks you directly in the eye, just scanning for any sign of hostility.

    Outside, you hear this strange fucking sound. It's still distant, but closing in. It's a low, burning rumble.

    Seville looks at the roof of the cottage.

    "Let's make this quick, we're to be leaving soon."
  • edited October 2010
    Once Princy's set, I let Seville go. I'm sideways, in front of the locked door into the, well, it's the ammo locker now. Got a corner of the table between us: it's a big, solid oak dining table, with a map of the region carved into the top, some papers scattered on top. (Mostly smaller maps, like ratty old pages out of atlases, a couple of rest stop state maps, some hand-drawn survey maps.)

    I don't really put down the machete, just lay it on the table in front of me, and I lean forward, legs spread. One hand on the machete, the other flat on the table. I just look at Seville.

    "Princy. Report."
  • edited October 2010
    Princy clears his throat and addresses you.

    "Uh, yeah boss, I almost forgot. Our night patrol hasn't returned yet and attempts to communicate with them have failed. A flare went up several minutes ago at the dock. Word is, the family that lives on the barge found a body. Might be one of the patrol. I haven't had a chance to look. I was coming here to tell you that they're taking the body to the surgeon and find out if you wanted to send out more Riders to recon the patrol's route."

    He thinks for a second, making sure he's got all the details right.

    "Oh, and Fido went apeshit and killed a grunt named Bowdy. Not sure why. Haven't had a chance to question him about the incident."
  • edited October 2010
    Princy's talking, and I'm stonily continuing to eye Seville and his associate. God, I'm angry. I don't know that I've actually been this angry before ... I'm having trouble even thinking around the urge to murder Seville right here and now. I could probably do it before his sidekick could bring me down. I know I need to defer that satisfaction, but damn.

    This needs to end with Jean safe and Seville dead.

    I know Seville, more or less, or at least I have experience in guessing how he'll act. The woman, I don't know, so she might be a weak link. How is she really feeling? Of course, I've already read some of her emotional state, but I want to spend my second hold on it, just to be sure. If there's nothing I haven't already noticed, that's fine.

    Princy's done: "Thank you, son. Check on those last two incidents today, as practical. I'll talk to Mo about recon."

    As I'm talking, I'm walking around to the bay window, looking through the grate. What's that fucking sound? Machete's in hand, kind of loose at my side. I don't really notice, but my thumb is testing the sharpness of the edge, near the grip.

    "Right now, though, these ... people claim to have abducted my daughter, and are here to negotiate the terms of her release. When Mo arrives, you will leave and confirm Jean's absence. Check her room. Talk to Rice. Whatever - be thorough, but don't fuck around. And if you see Gritch, tell him I want him around, in case I need him."

    When was the last time I saw Jean? I'm not the most attentive father, I have to admit, so it might've been a bit ...
  • edited October 2010
    The woman, who's yet to be formally introduced, has this aura of satisfaction. You can tell she looks up to Seville, devoted, like a lover's extreme devotion. So, now, seeing Seville's plan falling into place, you can sense that she is feeling this admiration and satisfaction that her idol is pulling this shit off. Or, at least seems to be.

    You can't see what's making this sound. The sound comes and goes and the rain coming down and splashing to the ground from the roof of your cottage isn't helping much. But, you can discern one thing. It's coming from above. Like, directly above. In the air.

    Princy affirms to your orders. He moves closer to the door and stands there keeping an eye out for Mo's arrival. What does she look like anyways?

    You last saw Jean two days ago. The conversation didn't end well. With you storming out and her in a deluge of tears. What happened? Why'd it upset her so much? And, how do you feel about it, especially now?
  • Oh, it was about a boyfriend, or possibly my suspicion that such a creature might exist. I don't know who it is, but I've heard rumors, right? She's still just a child - doesn't need to be walking around with men.

    Mo is Mo ... tall, at least a head taller than me, and she gives the impression of still having some baby fat on her, though most of that is actually toned muscle. Round face, some rings under her eyes lately.

    I turn back: "Alright, Seville. I'm listening."
  • edited October 2010
    Before Seville has a chance to respond, you hear Princy start to say something and then he stutters, silenced by another figure. It's Mo. She walks in and immediately commands the attention of everyone in the room. You can tell, even Seville's easiness become uneasiness. Mo carries herself like the battle-worn and tested elite that she is. No nonsense.

    Princy doesn't wait. He's off to confirm Jean's absence, and hopefully get a hold of Gritch.

    Mo enters the room. She's carrying.

    "Pellet told me what's going on. Gimme one reason not to smoke these pieces of shit, Uncle."

    She doesn't know this is the guy who did in James.

    Seville looks at you, expecting you to calm her down.
  • Sure he does. After all, I wanted her here in order to make him feel safe and in control, right?

    All the same, I do give her a hard look.

    "Well. Because I haven't told you to, have I? But if that's not enough, I'm sure this asswipe can explain in detail."

    I turn watery gray eyes on Seville: "He's a big planner, he is."

    (Do you mean that she doesn't know Seville did for James, or that she doesn't know this guy she's looking at is Seville?)
  • edited October 2010
    I mean, she doesn't know who Seville is, especially that he is responsible for James' death.

    Mo maintains her vigilance, but she respects you and therefore let's Seville speak for the moment.

    "Well, for one, if you kill us, Uncle's precious daughter, Jean dies. I'm the only one who can take you to her. In fact, that's how it's going to go down here Uncle."

    He leans forward in his chair.

    "You're going to put Gritch on the Coca Cola with my men and Violetta," he motions toward the woman. "Then, when they are safely away. I'm going to take you to Jean."

    There's another sound in the distance. It sounds like Tum Tum's tribike's engine rumbling. Princy must've sent Tum Tum to find Gritch while he checked to make sure Jean was actually gone. Mo moves over to the window to confirm.

    "It's Gritch. He's with Tum Tum and Fido."
  • I think.

    "Have 'em send him in."

    I take the couple of steps back to the edge of the table, and I glance down at the map carved into it. I'm feeling more in control of the situation. Seville managed to sneak in here, and he has intelligence on my operation. Well. There'll be inquiry into that, but he was still stupid to walk in here and challenge me in my home.

    "Violetta, eh?"

    I check out the woman briefly, make a point of meeting her eyes, weighing. I know who you are. I can deal with you later, if I want.

    Waiting a moment for Gritch, I note:

    "That's a fucking stupid plan, son. Well, at least you're not insulting me by thinking you'll be riding off with your girl here, but still. You want Gritch? Man runs a fucking business. You could'a just sent someone to lure 'im out, done whatever you like soon as he's out of my sight. But nah ... you've got to come here, grandstand. Flirt with puttin' yourself in my power, and show me you're so clever."

    "Well, I'm sure you've got a clever answer to this. What if I don't really feel like letting you go at the end of this? What happens if I just send your lady here off wit' Gritch, then take you down to Crutch and see what you can tell me about getting back my little girl?"
  • I test the edge of my machete. Again.
  • Seville smiles quaintly.

    "I have my reasons for going through you to get Gritch, Lars. Speculate away."

    He stands up as Tum Tum's bike rumbles up to the front porch.

    "I'm prepared for that course of action. If you think you can force the information out of me, we'll see how the scalpels and mallets work. But, Jean is certainly safer if you just let me take you to her."

    'Bout that time, Navarre, you and Tum Tum arrive at Uncle's cottage. Mo's standing in the front doorway. That seems odd to you. The rain has let up a bit, but it's still chilly and wet outside. She motions for you to bring Gritch up onto the porch. Tum Tum draws his pistols, but remains on the bike.

    "Go on," he says to you, Navarre.

    And then, Gritch, he stares you down.
  • I step up to the porch. "Hey, Mo, Princy said you needed Gritch." I look around. "Something up?"

    (I don't really care what she answers - something is definitely up, so I'm reading the situation: #DiceRoller( 2d6+1 ), plus marking experience.)
  • "Save yer looks for those that they work on, Tum Tum." I don' appreciate gettin' treated like I'm some kinda prisoner, or worse, some kinda pet, to be glared into submission. But then, I know Uncle, an' I know that if he's got his men riled up, it's probably because somethin's up. Somethin' big.

    "So, what, am I gonna stick outside in the rain, or can I come the fuck in?" I say, to Mo I guess, although it's almost just to the world in general.
  • (And, y'know, I kinda wanna do the same as Navarre, if possible, read the situation. Here's my roll, and if it's not okay, that's fine, just disregard it.)

    #DiceRoller( 2d6+2 )
  • Before Mo has a chance to answer, this loud, fuming rumbling overwhelms you and this huge cloud falls over Uncle's cottage. Looking up, you see this massive balloon, being fueled by this pillar of flame jutting up from a large basket carrying two men armed to the fucking teeth. The balloon is faded red, wet, and has the words Coca-Cola sprawled across the breadth of it.

    It's coming down to land in the front of Uncle's cottage.

    Navarre, who's more vulnerable to the guys in the hot air balloon? And, which is the biggest threat? You, Gritch or Tum Tum?
  • Mo motions for you, Gritch to come on in.

    "Fido, stay out here and keep your eye on that thing. Don't do nuthin' stupid."

    She looks fucking pissed.

    Gritch, gimme your questions.
  • Gritch is most vulnerable to the guys in the balloon - he's not a soldier, like Tum Tum and I are, and he's not armed.

    And the biggest threat - that has to be me. I'm carrying a fucking assault rifle.
  • Questions: What should I be on the lookout for? Where's my best escape route? Which enemy is the biggest threat?

    Well. Don' see that. Um. Ever.

    I step inside, real quick, an' get treated to what looks like a nice happy family, with Uncle lookin' real cheerful.

    I need a smoke.

    "You wanted me, Uncle?"
  • Those are some great questions. I'm going to let Uncle answer 'em.

  • More cheerful with every passing moment, Gritch. After all, I might get to kill someone soon.

    Escape route: Well, there's no back door, and the windows are closed up with iron grates, so there's really only one way to leave the building. You want to get out of this scene, you need to distract Mo ... do you know that Seville killed James? Or if you want to avoid the guys in the balloon, get out of the doorway. Maybe run for the bathroom if you want to hedge your bets ... more stuff there what will get in the way of bullets. And, y'know, furthest from the ammo stores.

    Violetta's the biggest threat to you. The guys on the lawn just made themselves obvious to an entire compound of at least fifty-some armed men, and Navarre is between them and you. They start shooting, they'll be taking care of themselves in short order. Violetta, though, is indoors, she's in a position to attempt some kind of hostage situation, and she's got a gun she could conceivably point at you.

    On the lookout? ... Shit, man, where to start. Something that might not be immediately obvious is that Uncle could maybe decide to send you with the maniacs in the balloon. Seville's maybe shooting you a look, and it's not like Uncle usually calls you in to assist with interrogations.
  • Perfect.

    Speaking of, Seville is moving over toward you now Gritch. He smiles. His teeth look like fucking pearls. Beautiful.

    "Violetta, confiscate Gritch's glove."

    The woman moves nearer. She's still got her weapon at the ready, but she withdraws this old plastic bag and offers the opening to you.

    Seville turns back to you, Uncle.

    "Time is short. You need to convince him to go with us quickly, or things aren't going to be good for Jean."
  • I'm not what you'd call impressed by Seville's attitude. I've been doing this longer than he has, haven't I?

    "No you fucking don't, Violetta. Mo."

    "Sit back down, asshole. You'll be going when I say as much."
  • Cigarette. Lips. Light it. Puff.

    "Like fucking hell, you get my glove."

    I flick it into the woman's face, but really it's just a distraction. I open the floodgates, and the cold fucking fills up every inch of my body in between heartbeats, and I let it out at her in one massive fucking torrent. Let her taste some fear.

    (So, I'm using Direct-Brain Whisper Projection here, marking experience. Hopefully this is in line with the answer to my question, that Violetta's the biggest threat, because I'm taking her ass out straight away.)

    #DiceRoller( 2d6+2 )

    Add +1 if it's in-line with the answer.
  • Seville's attitude changes significantly as well. You can tell he's starting to get aggravated, and now that Gritch is here, he wants this shit to end.

    As soon as you say her name, Mo draws on Violetta. And, sure enough, Violetta draws on Mo. It's a fucking standoff now.

    Seville holds his arms up. Sweat is beading on his forehead.

    But, he ain't sitting down. He's clearly not taking orders here.

    You wanna try going aggro on his ass?
  • (Wow, that was a lot of posts at the same time...Oops.)
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