[AW] Gritch In The Maelstrom

edited November 2010 in In-Game
Gritch. You're in the psychic maelstrom.

Everything around you looks hazy and fog-like. It's a ghost world. A mirror reality of the world you know; or knew.

Off in the distance, you can see other shapes. Like, more ghosts. Some of them are coming to you. And, then you hear this echoing voice. Coming from afar.

"doko kara kimashita ka..."

You understand the strange words for some reason.

"Where did you come from?"


  • Ain't the firs' time I been here, or at least, seems that way. Like I remember this place from a dream or somethin'. So I ain't scared or worried. Yet. Polite thing t'do, then, is to answer.

    "The Chateau. Place on the water, midst the fog. Can't do much better'n that fer a description. How about you?"

    There's something oddly happy in me. Could be I'm just glad things ain't hurtin' so bad anymore, an' it's makin' me giddy.

    Is the voice speaking to me feminine, masculine, distinct in any real way? Or is it just a nondescript voice, the type where I'm not even sure where the words are coming from?
  • edited November 2010
    Well, tell me, have you been in the psychic maelstrom before? What was it like?

    There's clearly a distinct accent to the voice. But, that's all I got. What does the voice sound like to you?
  • Hmmm. I was originally going to say, well, yeah, of course he's been in it before what with his line of work, but then I thought some more, and I like this answer better. He's come real close, and he's skirted the edges, whether consciously or subconsciously, which is why it seems familiar to him now. But no, he has never totally and utterly submerged himself in the psychic maelstrom in this fashion. This is a first, and an odd sign of things that're changing.

    For some reason, I, the player, am hung up on the notion that this voice is feminine, somehow softer, quieter, while being hard as iron.
  • edited November 2010
    Right on. So, that's what she sounds like then.

    "You don't belong here. You're half-in, half-out. Are you looking for someone?"

    You feel like her voice is echoing around you, but it's stronger in one direction. Looking there, you see a shapely woman walking away from you. But, it sounds like her voice is getting closer. It's both quiet and loud here. It sounds like you're in a wind tunnel or the center of a massive storm, but every other sound, including her voice is crystal clear, undiluted by the wind.

    There are ghosts coming closer. Is that Newton and Bondo amidst them?
  • edited November 2010
    I'm gettin' confused now, gettin' a bit disturbed. This ain't like what I remember, what I feel is familiar, an' I'm startin' to get on edge.

    "I'm...no, I'm looking for my body..." I stop, then, as I have a moment of thought. I'm still not quite thinkin' straight, an' it's like my reason is dulled an' fuzzy. But...I know that my body's burnt up, back wherever it is. I know that I'm in deep shit, an' I'm probably gonna need some help fixin' myself up after that blast. I know that most o' the folk at the Chateau would be more'n willin' to just let me expire, fer all that I'm useful. I know that I need somethin' to bargain with.

    Uncle's girl.

    "Jean. I'm lookin' for Jean."

    I stretch out one arm - is that an arm? I can't even tell, feels' kinda like an arm - towards her shape, tryin' to pull her back. I keep my eyes on her form, not lookin' at the ghosts. I know it can't be Newton an' Bondo, can't be, just can't be, I killed 'em after they were already dead, they can't still be around...can't...can't...

    If I don' look at them, I can pretend they aren't there.
  • "Oh... I see. Most of the newcomers here, they are still looking for their body, just like you."

    The voice trails off. She's beckoning you to follow her.

    You're looking back and Newton and Bondo's faces are contorting now, then gone... What the fuck? Were they really there in the first place? Your mind playin' tricks on you? Maybe.

    Do you follow her?
  • Yeah, I follow her. Don' know what this place is, don' know what's really going on. Don' trust anything here, but I don' wanna just stay here, unmoving. I follow her.

    But while I'm goin', I'm probin'. Reachin' out with my mind, with what senses I got left t'me. I'm lookin' to see what happens when I open myself up to the cold, here. If I can maybe tear a way on back to my body.

    (Any way I can open my brain to the Maelstrom? Or am I pretty much full-on-open, what with, um, being in it at the moment?)
  • I'm imagining you can still open your brain at this point. Gimme the roll!

    The woman seems to know where she's going. But, everything is hazy and blurry to you. You can't make sense of it. Sometimes is dark and greyish. Other times you turn your head and suddenly it's bright white, blinding yah.

    "Is Jean among us?"
  • #DiceRoller( 2d6+2 ) (mark experience for 4 total)

    "I don't know. Could be, certainly could be. She was taken from her family, from the Chateau, apparently, an' the folks who did it are unlikely to be friendly to her. But she might still be alive...sounded like the one feller who knew she'd been taken was hopin' to use her as leverage on Uncle, an' she wouuldn' make very good leverage with a bullet in her brain."

    I don' know why I'm talkin', why I'm thinkin' out loud to her. It's...not normal fer me, but I'm just doin' it, an' it feels right. I try to keep my eyes on the woman's form as she walks, so's I don' get too blinded or confused by the madness aroun' me.
  • The woman keeps walking, ahead of you. And, suddenly you feel like you're falling behind. You try moving faster, but she keeps on going. Slipping away. And, finally, she's gone.

    "You're not real."

    Her voice startles you. It's right behind. I mean, right fucking behind you. You feel like someone just dumped a bucket of ice and water over you. It's shocking.

    "Not here. You want to go back? Why? What's there? What's waiting for you? Why not stay here? I can arrange that for you."
  • I'd be lyin' if I didn't feel the pull o' her words. If I didn' feel the sweetness o' this place, with no pain, an' just a simple madness an' cold surroundin' me. I could let myself go, here. I should be shiverin', an' I would be, if I had a body. Instead, the cold is penetratin' me, an' all I am is the cold, an' I could just let myself slip away...

    But I can remember things from my life, things asides from the pain, an' I know what I want.

    "What's waitin' fer me is life, plain an' simple. Rather be alive than dead. That's all there is to it. An'..." My thoughts flash to White, like she suddenly appeared in my memories, an angel o' some kind. Like I'd forgotten about her, until this moment. "An' there are things I can't possibly do, can't have, over here."

    "I ain't ready to give myself over yet. But..." I turn aroun', or whatever the hell I can do in this place, to try an' face her directly. "But I am ready to what it takes t'get outta here. An' to get back with somethin' that'll help me survive. You tell me what you want, you tell me what you need fer you to help me, an' I'll give it to you, if'n it's in my power." I don' know if what I'm sayin' is true. I'm not sure what she is, an' I'm not even sure if I need her help t'get outta here. But I'm curious, an' with the cold an' the dullness, I'm not in any paranoid state o' fear or worry. I'm willin' t'talk it out.
  • Would you consider this a manipulate with the leverage being 'whatever you want'? Ha.
  • Well, I had been angling on a manipulate, but I had been hoping to hear exactly what the "whatever you want" was before committing to it. Although, does rolling manipulate actually commit you to anything? No, right? Because you can still refuse to give the concrete assurance on the 7-9, and they just won't do what you want them to do. Right?

    Regardless, here's a roll: #DiceRoller( 2d6-1 )

    (highlighted, for an advance. if it's not too goofy, I figured that when Gritch does finally wake up...IF Gritch wakes up...his brain would be all rewired from his time under, and so he'd get his two advances appropriately, 'cuz they're both gonna be Brainer moves.)
  • edited November 2010

    She gets closer and you can see her face clearer than ever. It's beautiful and hollow at the same time. Her eyes are set wide and her face is round. There are strange markings on her lips and forehead. Her dark hair is up in a bun.

    "Send me a soul from your world. That of a child."

    Her voice kind of echoes and sits with you for what seems like forever, but only moments pass.

    "Promise to do this for me and I'll release you to return to the mortal world."
  • If I had eyes, I'd blink 'em.

    "You want a kid's soul? What, you want me to kill a kid? Let's not be dicey or cagey here. You askin' me to kill a kid?"

    I'm a hard man, or at least so I thought I'd become over the years. I wouldn' bat an eye at a man dyin'. Wouldn' care about women livin' in filth. But murderin' a kid? Just so's some voice out in the weird can get her jollies, an' I get to run around in my body again? I'm not sure how I feel about that. I'm not sure I believe that there ain't no other way.

    (Also, because I have to provide a concrete assurance, how do I do that, in this case? Is it going to be something weird, or is there something I actually have to do?)
  • "Will you do this?"

    Her head slants to the side.
  • Kill a kid. That's all. An' then I'm back, alive, kickin'. Everything's back.

    Kill a kid. Not that big a deal. Killed some men before, t'save myself, t'save those around me sometimes, too. What's the difference here? A bullet don' notice the difference between a kid an' an adult. The world don' either.

    Kill a kid. Send his soul to this limbo o' chaos an' clouds, for...somethin'. Can't think it'd be somethin' good.

    Kill a kid. An' I get to see White again. I still don' understand why that matters so much t'me. I absolutely do not understand. But it does, an' I gotta think about that.


    If I kill a kid. Then I'd be what they think I am, wouldn't I. A bit of a monster, a freak, a creature o' evil t'be shunned. If I kill a kid, then Uncle'd be right in doubtin' me, an' Navarre'd be wrong in trustin' me. Right? Don' think Navarre's ever killed a kid. Don' think Uncle's ever killed a kid, an' he never would, 'cept t'save many more.

    Don' know. Don' know what t'do. Why do I care? It's just killin'. Just killin' a kid.

    Only. I'm not a killer, am I? I kill ghosts, but that's not killin', they're dead. An' I don' kill people. I don' kill kids.



    The word barely leaves my brain before I'm lashin' out with everythin' in me, trying to tear a way outta this limbo, tryin' to scrape my way back home. I'll get back t'my body, somehow, an' I won't have to kill a kid t'do it.
  • The spirit's face contorts into a scowl.

    "Very well. If you change your mind, call my name. Sheena Bella."

    She disappears.

    What do you do now?
  • Um...I'm gonna go with the obvious route and try to open my brain, but I guess in effect I'm trying to open my brain out of the Maelstrom, back to my body.

    #DiceRoller( 2d6+2 )
  • (Mark experience for 1 total towards next advance)
  • edited November 2010
    It's quite clear to you. You're too weak here, half-in, half-out. You're going to need someone to help you. Someone else connected to you, to your body.

    You're going to need Dog Head to help dislodge your soul from the psychic maelstrom.

    What do you do?
  • I don' like this. Don' like this idea. I barely even thought about the knowledge I had, that the fucker was riding along in my body, since I got it from Seville's mind. I don' like the idea o' givin' him any kind o' leash or leverage over me. Never met Dog Head, not really, not afore he was done an' Uncle was havin' me kill 'im, but I heard stories. Plenty o' stories. An' I don' like it.

    But I don' have much choice.

    "Dog Head," I say, out into the nothin'ness aroun' me. "I know you're there. Let's talk."
  • Dog Head's there. It's not like he appears or anything. It's like he was always there. His one eye, and the other empty socket, gazing at you.

    "Smokes don't work here... do they? Yet, you still got that feeling. That itching in your throat. That nervous twitch, hunger in your lungs, like you need one. It never goes away, Gritch."

    Dog Head isn't moving. But, he looks uncomfortable.

    "You rang?"
  • Nope. He's absolutely right, it never does go away. But you learn to ignore it.

    "Dog Head. Didn't quite wanna believe you were still here, but then, wouldn't be able to get outta here without you, so I guess I should be grateful." I consider him fer a momen', then continue.

    "Look, here's the deal. Me 'n you? We never really met, interacted knew each other in any way back when we were in the real world. Don' know what you knew o' me, but all I knew o' you was stories, an' what Uncle said. An' at the time, it was more important t'follow Uncle's orders than anythin' else. You've had time to watch me now, o'course, I guess, but I still don' know much about you 'cept what I've heard. So, I ain't gonna make any judgments quite yet.

    "That bein' said, I don' see any reason fer us to work against each other. Not right now, an' not in the long run, neither. What would happen? You'd lurk in me, an' wait til I slipped up, an' then you'd seize my body, an' you'd wreak all kinds o' havoc, I'm sure, until I took my body back. Because we both know that eventually you'd slip up, too, or I'd get enough strength to take it back by force, because let's be honest...I'm one strong-ass motherfucker in terms o' this shit. So, I'd take it back, an' then you'd just wait until I slipped up again, an' then back, an' forth, an' back, an' neither o' us would get what we want.

    "So, instead, let's just throw that whole shit outta the window. Let's at least try to work together, just a bit. I know you're a mean fucker, an' you ain't gonna be happy without revenge on them as put you down, probably myself included. An' you probably know I ain't gonna be all that inclined to help you get your revenge. But that don' mean we have to work against each other, an' it don' mean we can't help each other.

    "You 'n me, pushin' together? We'll get outta here, back to my body. Otherwise, we're gonna be stuck here fer a while. I'm sure eventually I'll figure out a way t'get back, but then, I'm just gonna go back to ignorin' you, if I don' try to find a way to get ridda you altogether. So that ain't a great deal fer you. An' on my end, the longer we wait, the more I get worried they're doin' somethin' to my body. Wouldn' be surprised if it were screamin' unending, or flashing lights from the eyes or some shit, an' certainly wouldn' put it past Uncle to just put a bullet in me to stop the weirdness. So I'd rather get back before that happened. So let's work together. Let's get the fuck outta here, an' then, we can talk some more."

    Maybe it's cuz this place is so much closer to my mind, an' my mouth doesn't get in the way, but the words just keep comin', all honest, all true. I'm sayin' what I think as I think it, an' it's somehow peaceful. An' the fact is, I'm calm, an' I'm not worried, fer some reason. Makes sayin' all this so much easier. Makes me feel calm. Peaceful.

    Damn, this place is gonna be harder to leave than I thought.

    I keep lookin' at Dog Head, though, waitin' for his response.
  • "I like what you're sayin' here, Gritch. Thing is, I don't wanna be in your body, same as you don't want me in there. But, I got no choice, yah see?"

    Dog Head is still standing there, unmoving. It's disturbing to you. And, off on the fog's horizon, there are spooks moving about.

    "I can help you get back. But, once we're back, I need you to help me get out. I need you to take me to the Witch. If you don't do this, well, you and your whole life is going to be a lot more complicated than it is now. If God gets his hands on my soul, they're going to find it. I've been biding my time. And, time has come."

    Dog Head's empty eye socket has this tiny bit of mist swirling within it.

    "We have a deal?"
  • Don' know what he's talkin' about with God an' shit, but I don' really care. Man can believe what he wants.

    "You want me t'take you to the Witch? Yeah. Yeah, I think I can do that. You got a deal, Dog Head. Now let's get the fuck outta here."
  • I'm going to move to a new thread now. One sec while I set it up.
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