[AW] Pain Waves, Waves of Pain

edited December 2010 in In-Game
Gritch, it's been several hours. You've been wondering whether you can trust Hale, trust him to get back the pain wave grenade. The infirmary has been quiet. Rice occasionally stirs from his cot, moaning and crying sometimes. But, he's in and out of it, knocked up on drugs probably. Some men brought a couple gunfire victims down into the bunker several minutes after Hale left. One of 'em, you knew him as Bingo, he's dead. The other, Saddle, his foot got fucking blown off. Crutch came out when they came down. Apparently, he was in one of the back rooms, sleeping.

From here, you can see Crutch has packed up some of his shit, like he's going on vacation or something. He does his best to stabilize Saddle, but then he takes his shit and lugs it out of the bunker, loads it up onto a horse and for all you know, rides off into oblivion (that's not where he went of course).

Saddle is not out. He's conscious, cussing and grinding his teeth, as Hale finally comes back a couple hours later.

The loud creaking of the double doors jars you from your thoughts. Each time they opened up, you were hoping to see Hale, yeah? Well, this time it is him. He lumbers down the stairs, bulky and awkward, and marches across the bunker toward you.

He goes straight over to a counter near you and produces something from his pocket. He sets it on the counter, but doesn't remove his hand from it. His hand... It's covered in cuts, flesh folded back from the deep cuts on his knuckles, blood and sweat.

He looks right at you, dead in the eye.

"Let's do business, Gritchy."

You feel Saddle's gaze from behind you.

What do you do?
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Comments

  • "Thanks kindly, Hale, fer bringin' my property t'me. I'll be havin' that now."

    I wasn't expectin' so many people t'be down here. Puts somethin' of a damper on my plans, but I got more ideas. Don' much fancy goin' back into that freezer, but needs must when Dog Head drives. But first, Hale, o'course, is gonna want more jingle fer keepin' his mouth shut, fer bringin' me the projector. Which means I sure as shit can't give inta him.

    (I want to read Hale.)

    #DiceRoller( 2d6+2 )

    (highlighted for an improvement...I CHANGE PLAYBOOKS TO SKINNER...not really, though. Advancing three moves. Open brain, read a sitch, and act under fire.)
  • "Not so fast, Gritchy. We're going to need to come to an arrangement about what I know, before any of that."

    Hale is looking past you, toward Saddle.

    "Shut your fucking ears, pissant! I'll break your face!"

    Turning back to you.

    "What the fuck is he doing here?"
  • "Don' know. I'd think it has somethin' t'do with the missin' foot, but that's really just a guess."

    I feel bad fer the kid. It's nothin' outta the ordinary, t'see wounded folk, likely as not to die. But don' mean I can't feel bad for him. Not t'mention, were I not in the place I'm in, with Dog Head ready to pounce on my brain the minute I so much as think about openin' up, I might jus' try to fix the kid. Never hurts t'have an armed man owe you a favor. Probably can't grow his foot back...or maybe I can? Don' really know the extent o' my healin' ability. Not worth thinkin' about, though. Not until I'm sure I can do it without Dog Head bein' able to take over.

    I'm talkin' low, so's only Hale will hear, but I don' really care if Saddle catches my words. More for appearances, really. "You wanna talk, we're goin' have to talk in front o' the kid. I can't leave here, an' I doubt he's goin' anywhere. An' you wanna talk in front o' the kid, that probably means you're gonna have to spill the beans, an' that means you ain't gonna get yer cut. After all, if there's two who know, well then, I can't afford to pay that much, so I'm just gonna have to pay you both half. Wouldn't want that, now, wouldja? So, you wanna talk about it, come to an arrangement, that's fine, but yer either gonna have to do with less, or yer gonna have to wait 'til later. And I already paid you for that," I motion towards the generator, "so far as I'm concerned it's already mine. I'll be takin' it now."
  • Are you going aggro or trying to manipulate him?
  • With regards to which part? Convincing him to hold off until later, or getting the pain wave generator back? I wouldn't think that getting the generator back would be manipulating, exactly, because I did already pay him for it.

    But either way, I guess if it's an option, I'd be manipulating. Not quite willing to resort to mind-melting behavior yet.

    So here's a manipulate roll, though I'd still want to make sure what exactly it's for. Let's say it's for getting him to hold off on talking until later, if the option is open to me.

    #DiceRoller( 2d6-1 )
  • Mostly, it's getting him to hold off on negotiations until later. He's trying to use the pain-wave projector as leverage against you, since he technically got it back for you, he's just holding it until you agree to negotiations.
  • "Fuck that. I'll go to Uncle right now and tell him what I know. We're doing the deal now."

    Hale looks around, starts rummaging through the medical supplies and cabinets. He finds a syringe and one of the capsules with some kind of medication, liquid in it.

    "This'll do. I'm just going to put ole Saddle out for the duration."

    He stabs the needle into the medication and begins filling it up.
  • (Should Hale have any sort of medical training? I'm guessing as a Rider, he might have some very basic medic skills, but I'm also assuming there's nothing really to differentiate him or make him seem particularly adept at medical stuff, right?)

    "You a doctor? A medic? You know what the hell yer doin'? You goin' stab the boy with a syringe full o' who knows how much of who knows what?" Bad. This is bad. I don' wanna fight on my hands, but no way I'm sittin' back an' lettin' Hale potentially kill the kid. Got too much to atone for already.

    I'm gettin' ready t'move.

    Spending hold: How could I get Hale to leave quietly for now without giving away what he knows?
  • edited December 2010
    Oooh... Good spend.

    Give him some sort of collateral. Maybe, your antique pistol or something. That might let him know you're serious about dealing with him. You still have that on you?
  • I don't still have my pistol, do I? I thought it was taken away from me when I was taken in hand by Uncle's men. Maybe I'm wrong?

    But rounds for the gun...maybe I still have those? After all, bullets without a gun are moderately useless, so maybe they didn't take my bullets...

    "Looky here, friend. You put that needle down, head out, an' we'll talk about this later. I promise. Fer now, here. Take these." I reach my hand into a pocket, an' pull out a handful o' revolver rounds. They're basically all I got, more 'n I ever thought I'd need. But with ammo so low around the Chateau, they gotta be worth somethin'. "You don' spend 'em, you don' shoot 'em. You don' own 'em yet. But maybe, after we talk, we can work somethin' out. Fer now, they're just a promise, somethin' you can hold on to as assurance we'll be talkin' later. Fair?"

    (I'm hoping this isn't spending barter, and is instead totally sacrificing all ammunition for the gun, so even if I get it back I'd have to get more ammo, but if you think it should just be barter I'm okay with that too.)
  • No, that's fine.

    Hale takes the rounds, sets the syringe on the counter and hands you the pain-wave grenade.

    "Don't you go fuckin' me over now, yah hear?"

    He smiles and starts to head off, out of the bunker.

    "Enjoy your stay!"
  • "Yeah." Under my breath: "You fuck."

    I wait 'til the asshole's gone, an' then I turn to Saddle. "Kid, how you doin'? Need anythin'? I ain't a medic, so I can' give you medicine, but water, maybe I can ask one of the guards for food?" I'm eyein' the freezer as I speak. At this point, I know I'm stallin', tryin' t'avoid it. But I don' have much choice. I'm lookin' at the temperature controls, tryin' to figure out a way to set them low, an' keep 'em there. I'm lookin' at the locks, tryin' to see how they work. I'm lookin' at Saddle, an' wonderin' if he can get over there, t'lock it from the outside.
  • "Yeah, water would be good. I don't have an appetite to eat though."

    Saddle's looking over at Bingo. Bingo's chest is all exposed, riddled with exit wounds from the bullets.

    "I wouldn't trust that sonofabitch Hale. He's a fucking scoundrel."
  • Hmmm.

    I read Saddle.

    #DiceRoller( 2d6+2 )

    (highlighted for 1)

    Also, can I get water from somewhere inside, or do I have to ask a guard?


    "Not plannin' to, kid. Not plannin' to. Don' much like him."
  • There's water here, in old plastic jugs, stacked on the counter.

    "Good. He's a scumbag. I wouldn't trust him far as I can throw him. How 'bout that water?"
  • I get the kid a cup o' water from the jugs, bring it over to him. If he can't hold it himself, 'cuz he's feverish or whatever, I hold it up to his lips, tip it back slightly so some splashes into his mouth.

    "Kid." I look at the freezer again. "Don' know you too well. Tell me somethin'. You an honest man? Can I trust you?"
  • "Well, that depends what you mean by 'honest'."

    He's taking a sip of the water.

    "Why? What want to tell me what Hale was talking about?"
  • I look at the kid. "Depends what I mean by 'honest'? How many fuckin' definitions of the word are there, boy?"

    (How likely does it look that Saddle is going to survive?)
  • Saddle's survival depends greatly on Uncle's decision to expend some stock on him. We're still waiting on that.

    "I mean, I've done some fucked up things in my time, but I ain't no fucking scumbag like Hale. If that's what you mean."
  • Hmmm. One more avenue: Would Saddle be likely to know how to read?
  • Like read a book? Maybe. You can ask him.
  • "Can you read, kid?"
  • "Of course I can read! You think I'm an idiot?"
  • Okay, spending hold: How could I get Saddle to, without reading it, make sure that a written message gets to Navarre? (I'm assuming the "make sure" element only goes so far as saying "Hey guys, before I die, get this message to Navarre," or something like that. Like, I know he could easily die, but I'm assuming that he has enough time to hand off the message without dying first.)

    (Unless, of course, I try to heal him, and then he might not die. If I succeed. And if I don't, I'll melt his brain and go all Dog Head again. Yay!)
  • edited December 2010
    Hmmm. That's a toughie. You might have to heal him. Give him a reason to like you I guess. Give him a reason not to want to read the message is another option (might require you to go aggro after you give it to him).
  • BLAH!

    I was hoping to avoid doing this, but oh well. Worst comes to worst, I'll still pretty much be in a terrible situation.

    (I'm assuming a couple things here, so feel free to correct me.)


    I go rummagin' throughout the room, lookin' fer somethin', somethin' sharp, like a scalpel, or an old shard o' glass, or somethin' similar. Eventually, I come up with a rusty scalpel as fell behind some drawers. Carry it back over to Saddle.

    "Listen, kid. Here's the story. I want you to do somethin' fer me, but to do it, I'm gonna need you up an' movin'. I got a way that I think I can fix you up. May not grow your foot back or nothin', but it'll get you better than you are now. But, it might go wrong, kid. An' if it does, there's any number o' things as could happen. You might get hurt, bad, an' not in your body, but in your brain, instead. Or you might be driven insane. Or...an' here's what might be the worst...I might go nuts, myself, an' I might...do somethin'...like try to kill you.

    "I ain't doin' nothin' without you tellin' me you want me to, so you tell me. I don' know if Uncle's got the resources to spare on you, an' I don' know how long it'll take him. Maybe, if you wait, you'll get good care, an' you won' need this. Maybe, if you wait, you'll die. I just don' know. So you need t'tell me, kid. You want me to give this a try? Or you wanna take your chances? I'll do what you tell me."
  • "Uh..."

    Saddle's eyeballing that scalpel.

    "What exactly are you thinking?"
  • "I'm gonna touch you, kid, an' I'm gonna...well, I'm still not totally clear m'self on what I do. But I think I'm channelin' stuff into you, an' it'll fix your body. But it might backfire. This-" I hold up the scalpel "-is for if you're left okay, still in your brain or anythin', an' I'm...well, like I said. Tryin' to kill you. It's t'keep you safe, kid."
  • I'm looking through crosshairs.

    Saddle takes the scalpel from you. He's looking at his mutilated foot. He's looking at you. He's looking at the scalpel.

    "Fuck it. Do it."
  • "Be ready, kid. Be ready. An' if I'm comin' at you, if I don' look like me anymore...use that fuckin' thing. Hear me?"

    I put my hands on the kids leg. Almost wish I could let out a prayer to somethin'.

    An' I call the spookies.

    (...please let this work...)

    #DiceRoller( 2d6+3 )
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