[AW] Fleece's Place

edited November 2010 in In-Game
Navarre, you're fucked up.

Tum Tum tried getting you to go to the surgeon, talk you out of going to find her, but you weren't having it. You wanted to talk to Ruby. Set things straight I guess. It didn't take long to find out where she was. But, your stomach turned when you finally heard the words from someone's lips.

"Yeah, I think she's over at Fleece's place."

Yet, here you are. Fleece has cordoned himself off in a section of the East Wing. Seems like lately, he and his crew have been isolating themselves from the rest of the Rough Riders. Here you are, at the tall, iron-bound, oak double doors leading into his crew's section of the mansion. There's a big fucking skull, painted in what looks like dried mud and blood, covering the width of the doors. You can hear voices coming from inside moving closer to you and before you have a chance to do anything, one of the doors opens.

Three people come out, it's Lala, Putrid and Rufe. What are they doing here? They're in Tum Tum's squad. They walk past you, knowingly avoiding bumping into you, but still eyeballing the fuck out of your wounds, the blood drenched clothing.

Another burly figure is standing at the door after they leave. You know him as Threader. He's got this jean jacket on, studded on the shoulders with tiny metal spikes, and this crude looking cudgel hanging from his belt. His face is consumed by this thick, matted beard. He smells like he hasn't taken a dip in fucking weeks.

What do you do?


  • Yeah. I'm imagining that Tum Tum went off to secure his crew, Lala, Tao, etc... and make sure they are ready for any missions Uncle might send them on (despite them being on watch throughout the night - Tum Tum's tough like that). So, when he parted ways with you, I'm thinking he gave you back any weapons you loaned him.

    Threader looks at you suspiciously. You don't think you've ever seen this guy smile. He's broad-chested and one of the stoutest motherfuckers in the Chateau.

    "She's here. And, no, you can't talk to her. Not for a few minutes, not for a few seconds. Beat it."

    He steps out toward you, closing the door behind him. He's creating a human shield between you and the door. He crosses his pipe-like forearms over each other and stares down at you from his towering height.
  • Threader's arrogance visibly dissipates. He drops his arms to his side, thumbing his cudgel. He stares at you, clearly weighing your threat. Then, he says something.

    "Come on in. Fleece ain't gonna be pleased though."

    He turns and opens the door, entering and expecting you to follow behind him.

    The chamber beyond is in disrepair, crumbling in some places. It's a larger room, with vaulted ceilings and high walls that have alcoves where some priceless statuettes probably stood. Now, it looks like it's been turned into some sort of command center. There are sandbags built up into short walls facing the door. A few men, Rough Riders, sit in positions behind the sandbagged wall. They're passing a flask around to each other and yapping about the great time they had at Mimi's place the night before. They don't pay any particular attention to you.

    There's a tent set up in the center of this chamber. There are a couple people inside the tent, standing over a foldout table. Looks like there are maps strung out across the table. This is fucking weird. You've never been in here before, but it's not what you expected.

    Threader puts his hand out.

    "Wait here."

    You wanna do anything before he heads off to do what he's heading off to do?
  • edited November 2010
    Threader comes back, Ruby in tow. She has a scowl on her face and you can tell she ain't excited to see you. Threader stands back near the sandbags, clearly keeping his eyes on you, as Ruby walks over to you.

    Ruby's talking in a low, unpleasant voice. She keeps looking over her shoulder, like she's watching out for something.

    "What the fuck are you doing here?"

    Ruby's bundled up in this green, stained blanket.
  • edited November 2010
    Ruby's demeanor goes from unpleasant to ... I don't know ... defeated? You see her head drops, hangs lifelessly, and you sense tears welling up inside of her.

    "You came here for your fucking doll? That ugly piece of crap?"

    Tears start to flow. You can see a handful hit the stone floor, mixing in with the dust to create a constellation of muddy tear prints. She wipes her face and turns to start to walk away. She's done with this conversation it seems.

    What do you do?
  • edited November 2010
  • Ruby turns back to you.

    "Then maybe you should go find your friend, Gritch. He's the one who probably took it after he kicked me out for you."

    Everyone in the place comes to an uneasy attention when you start shouting and Threader is already moving in on you. The rest of the guys are staying back, but you see guns and machetes and baseball bats once lying around now in the hands and at the ready.

    "Alright, buddy. Time for you to go!"

    Threader starts to put his hands on you, but then he's interrupted.

    "Threader! Fleece wants to see Fido."

    It's Gettys, one of Fleece's best men. Some say they're blood kin. Threader looks confused and a bit embarrassed. He doesn't grab you. Instead, he looks at you and speaks in a calm voice.

    "Let's go."

    Ruby's out of the place now. You see her disappear down a corridor blocked off by this huge, red hanging flag.
  • Threader leads you past the tent, down the far corridor opposite the one Ruby went down, and into this room filled with men.

    Fleece is there. Behind a desk, a massive, heavy looking metal desk. His bald, cleanly shaven head is glistening from the nearby light from some oil lanterns. Fleece is a dark-skinned man. When he stands as you enter, you note his thin frame. But, it's deceptive. He's quite the scrapper. He's wearing this old bomber jacket with several patches across it, accented by this white - well, more beige - scarf tucked into the front of the jacket where the zipper ends and up around his neck. The jacket fits him like it was made for him. There's a knife wound in the jacket, like maybe Fleece or the former owner was once stabbed with a thick blade there. Fleece picks up a hat (it looks like a Russian fur ear cap) as he stands and pulls it onto his bald head. The hat, unlike the jacket, doesn't seem to fit him too well.

    Fleece is flanked by Gettys now. You feel Threader's presence behind you. Well, you smell him behind you is what I mean. Two other cats you've never had the pleasure to meet are here also. One of 'em has a piece of rebar resting on his shoulder and the other has this golf club, a thick wooden driver, he's casually swinging in front of him.


    Fleece seems excited to see you. You get the feeling he feels like he's got one-up on you, being as Ruby's here and all.

    "Fido! Uncle's lapdog. How nice of you to join us! Please, have a seat."

    There's a chair in front of Fleece's desk. It's a rocking chair, missing several slats out of the back. You feel Threader's grip now on your shoulder, beckoning you to sit.
  • edited November 2010
  • Fleece walks over to a barred window, no glass. He's looking out there, into the fog. Fleece talks fast. And, he has a sing-song cadence to his voice.

    "You look like you just got fucked up. That the result of all that gunfire I just heard?"
  • Fleece is shaking his head.

    "Mmm. Mm. M. See, Fido?"

    Fleece is chuckling to himself, nearly under his breath.

    "That's the problem with Uncle. Shit like that happenin' right under his own nose. He's gettin' old, that one. Too fucking old."

    Fleece walks back over toward you.

    "This one he's got still alive... You get a look at the man?"

    Fleece has positioned himself behind you now.
  • Fleece puts both his hands on your shoulders. He leans in close from behind. You can smell his breath. It smells like curried lamb.

    "A girl?"

    Fleece is massaging your shoulders now.

    "A girl got in on Uncle?"

    He seems genuinely surprised.

    "That old fucker always did have a soft spot for the ladies. I guess it turned back on him."

    Fleece lets go. He's walking back around to his desk now. He sits with a plop down into his swivel chair and leans forward.

    "Times are changing around here, Fido. I got a proposition for you. Although, it might involve you getting up off of Uncle's lap and becoming your own man finally. You interested in hearing more? Or, are you too closely leashed to the wrinkly fuck?"
  • Fleece doesn't seem perturbed by your response. He was probably expecting it.

    "See. That's why I like you Fido. Loyalty. Question is... is Uncle the extent of your loyalties? Yeah. Maybe. But, poor little Ruby came crawling to me this morning, says you kicked her out. After what she'd been doing for you up at Mimi's? Damn. That's cold."

    Fleece leans back and you feel Threader's hand on your shoulder again. Fleece continues.

    "You don't care for her no more, Fido? How would you feel if something terrible happened to poor Ruby?"
  • Fleece laughs a little laugh.

    "Goddamn boy. You don't know your ass from your elbow. Ruby was working on saving up so you and her could take the boat on upstream to that little hideaway paradise they talk about. Utopia or some shit?"

    Fleece gets serious.

    "Fuck that. My utopia is where some old, broke down cocksucker isn't running things like shit ain't over. Fido, you don't know the shit going down outside these walls. You think that missing patrol got 'lost' or somethin'? Fuck naw. Uncle's time is over. Now, you gotta decide, you gonna go down with him - for him? Or, are you gonna find your way along with your women in tow?"
  • Fleece frowns.

    "Well, that's too bad, Fido. Could have used a strong motherfucker like you. Go see the doc, Fido."

    Threader's grip gets tighter on your shoulder and Fleece nods to the two other guys in the room.

    "Let him go."

    They all kind of look at each other, clearly stunned. Fleece doesn't hesitate to respond to their hesitation.

    "You fucking heard me! Get him the fuck out of here!"

    Threader motions for you to get moving.
  • Crutch's place looks pretty much the same as it did this morning. The doors are still open, and you think you hear some sobbing coming from down in the bunker.

    Approaching the stairs that lead down, you see Crutch standing over the body of some fat fuck laid out on his metallic operating table. The fat guy is clearly dead, a gunshot wound in his neck. Crutch doesn't notice you at first, but he's got some tools laid out like he might be about to perform some kind of surgery.

    Further into the bunker, you see a man strung up to an IV lying on a cot. Must be the guy Spector toted in.

    What do you do?
  • Crutch looks up at you. You startled him a bit. But, he acknowledges you and motions you down.

    "I figured some of you would be coming by. Sit down, lemme have a look."

    He takes a look at your wounds. He's shaking his head, like 'No.'

    "This is pretty bad. But, you're not dead. I don't know if I have much that can help you. I mean, I'm running low on supplies and Uncle hasn't really given me anything to work with... I'll see what I can do yeah."

    He pushes you back onto a cot. He draws a syringe out of his apron pocket.

    "Lie back now, buddy. You're gonna feel a prick, but then the pain's gonna go away."

    You let him stab you with that needle?
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