[Ashen Snow] Ula's Summons [Bo 5.2 Gr 5.2 Amb 5.1]

edited October 2012 in In-Game
Greekor and Bones,

Walking side-by-side, you enter the steamy baths. You notice the tile on the floor and walls of the first few feet are askew, there are a couple bullet holes in the wall as well. Inside the baths are Jeanette, Ula and Flite. Ula comes to you, Bones. Jeanette speaks, but Ula is the one who is moving to help you disrobe, "You need to begin the cleansing, we can free you from your stains, Angel."

Ula doesn't make eye contact, but she says low, "Trust me."

It seems like they want to strip you down and give you a bath, but one that is formalized, like one of Grekkor's cleansings.


Jeanette gives you a look that welcomes you. She doesn't speak to you, but it feels like you were meant to be here.

What do you do?


  • red
    edited October 2012

    I pull back a little, away from Ula. I clutch the front of my jacket nervously with my shaking hands. "What?"

    I glance between the three of 'em. I've never been a part of these formalized things. They've always made me a bit nervous, seems an awful intimate thing for people who don't mind bein' vulnerable with near strangers. Not really my thing.

    "I have...there's hurt people I need to...to fix. What...I don't know what...what you're talkin' about." I kinda stutter. I'm torn between a frightened sorta hope that they might be able to really help me an' fear bout what they might do to me if they know I'm carryin' the plague around. Trust Ula? I barely know her...an' what if this is a trap? Maybe they're gonna kill me.
  • Bones,

    Jeanette gives a soft laugh, "You can't be cleaned... unless you're clean, Angel." As she does, Ula steps closer to you and takes your hands, your cold and dirty hands in her dark, clean ones. Her hands are worn with age, but worn like supple leather, not cracked with wrinkles. She gently tries to pry your hands from your jacket so she can help you disrobe. She intends to help you strip down for the baths and she's not at all concerned about being near you. You get a feeling that she knows something about you.


    You sense the guards, Frost and Omie and Chack's father, they're here. This is important, this moment. A secret is being revealed. You can't let Bones run from this.
  • [Bones]

    I clutch my jacket tighter, though my grip's so weak, she'll be able to pry my hands off pretty quick. I’m not runnin, least not yet, but I’m startin’ to feel kinda panicky bout this situation. I meet Ula’s eyes a little desperately.

    Read Ula
    #DiceRoller( 2d6+2 )
  • What's Ula really feeling?
  • Bones,

    Ula continues to pry your thin hands off your jacket and then reaches with her palms to touch your collarbone, spreading them under the jacket and sliding it over your shoulder. Then she continues to disrobe you, and she begins to hum that song, the song Wolf sang, the one you sing sometimes.

    Bring back
    Bring back
    Bring back my Bonnie to me, to me.

    Bring back
    Bring back
    Bring back my Bonnie to me.

    Ula is feeling fulfilled, warm, brimming with hope. She wants to help you heal, but she knows she has to get you into the pool for it to work. She doesn't understand your fear, she's touched at the strength of your soul.

    Unless you fight her, she will have you nude within moments, and will gently lead you by the hand to the pool.

    The water is deliciously warm, almost hot. It pulls the tension from your body, making you wish you could melt.


    You watch this, I assume? Does Grekkor find Bones attractive? How does he react to this experience?

    As Ula leads Bones to the water, Jeanette takes your hand and leads you behind them. You realize she intends to have you help her wash Bones clean. Have you done this before?

    What do you do?
  • RusRus
    edited October 2012
  • [Bones]

    I plan on fightin’ her, don’t I? I mean to run, right? Ula pries my hands off my jacket an’ I’m ready to run. I swear. But then she starts hummin’ that damn song. Wolf’s song. An’ I just freeze. An’ then before I know it, I’m in the water, my arms wrapped tightly around my naked chest, an’ that song just keeps echoin’ off the walls.

    When Grekkor steps up with his knife, I hold his gaze, shakin. I’m sure he’s gonna kill me. This is it then. This is where I die. I’m sorry, Wolf. I’m sorry I couldn’t keep myself alive long enough for you to kill me yourself.

    But what Grekkor says does more to knock the breath outta me than anythin’ else. He forgives me? He’s gonna protect me? An’ that just sorta breaks me. I’m so sick an’ tired an’ the water is so warm, an’ Ula’s gentle presence, an’ now Grekkor’s forgiveness? I don’t deserve it. Any of it, but it’s here anyways.

    Grekkor kisses my forehead an’ there’s tears rollin’ down my face. Let go. I can’t hold on any longer anyways, I'm too tired. So I do. I just let go. Relax my tense an' frightened body, drop my arms into the water, an' stand there, tremblin' at the vulnerability an' trust that scares me more than death.
  • Bones,

    Your pain and worry and guilt wash away into the water and for the first time in a very long time, you have a moment of quiet. Spector and Scourge are still present, but muted somehow, dulled. Jeanette slips into the water behind you, taking a sponge to wipe across your shoulders gently, washing away the days of grime and sweat and blood.


    Jeanette tells you, "Grekkor, help me wash her pain away. Help us cleanse her." She leaves the choice to you. Do you join her in the water?
  • Ambrose,

    You see the mess at The Gym and make your way to The Baths. A couple of the old guard Pryers are at the doors, the girl Pretzel and the older blonde guy Arizona. Pretzel has always been a little bashful around you, but she steps into the doorway in your way when you come up.

    What do you do?


    You catch sight of Ambrose entering The Gym and heading after Bones and Grekkor to The Baths.
  • edited October 2012
    Looks like I missed the action. I hail Crackle on my way to the Gym.

    The Gym is a mess. My eyes fall first on Turk's gang, and their leader, looking dead. I think of his girls, Aurora and the others. All he wanted was a place to raise his kids in this damn world. Alonzo's speaking, undoubtedly caressing the gang's emotions. Looks like I'll have Grekkor on one hand and Alonzo on the other with potentially competing thugs in tow.

    Speaking of Grekkor, my eyes fall to him next, close by Bones, entering the Baths proper. Bones... Damn, I've been trying to see her for a week, but that doesn't prepare me for the sudden encounter. Should I let her keep avoiding me? My attentiveness and respect for space has always been what's kept me close to her, what makes me different than that forceful brainer succubus.

    I remember the last time I was here, that night, that last night, and she was yelling at me, while Camaro hung her bare needy body on me. So much has changed.

    Thinking of Camaro reminds me what Grekkor was doing that last time, manipulating her into seeking her own death, his damn death ritual. Maybe things haven't changed. I know Grekkor and Bones don't see eye to eye, but what could Bones have done that would drive him to force a death ritual on her? Well, there's so many damn ruels about this place maybe they're making a martyr of the 'Death Angel' to atone for the unbearable affront the Gym has definitely endured, or some other pseudo-heretical damn problem she ran afoul of during the fighting. Hell, she probably just healed one of the opposition fighters, or dared to not want to die. These Pryers, I tell you.

    I near the Baths door in a heartbeat. I can see them.

    Bones is gorgeous and bare, half in the warm water, steamy eddies around the graceful curves of her steamy hips. I blink once and see a well-spliced montage of flashes from our last moment of intimacy together, my mind and heart flooding with the sounds, the smells, the sweat, the dappled light, the love. She’s more gaunt now, almost unhealthy thin, and appearing completely uneasy and afraid. My heart basically collapses at the way she grips herself like a terrified child. I don’t even need Eurydice to jab the part of me that leaps to chivalric heroism on behalf of distressed damsels, least of all my own missing heart, my Bonamie.
    With reverence he kisses her forehead. Like a supplicant to a living saint.
    "Let go."
    Grekkor. Knife. Dammit. I draw my own sword. I’m not sure, but I have a strong suspicion I’m breaking a zillion dman rules by doing so, but hell with that.

    Bones sort of melts, obeys Grekkor's hypnotic order, does what she never could do in my presence, except that final time: She let’s go. Her precious, well-guarded tears fall free. Her vulnerability is palpable. From her expression, her body language, I know she has already accepted her death. I know her damn well enough for that.
    "Grekkor, help me wash her pain away. Help us cleanse her."
    Shit. Whether she wants to see me or not, I am not letting Grekkor take her away from me—I mean from the world—forever. Not if I have anything to do with it.

    My voice fails me. I try to say something sentimental and poignant to gauge her feelings toward me, like “Bones”, along with something useful like “What the bloody fuck transpireth hither?”, but instead, nothing comes out but a loud, rather incomprehensible, but clearly angry and menacing grunt. At Grekkor, at the folks barring my way, at whoever the hell dragged Bonamie into the crosshairs.
  • Going Aggro on Pryers [+1 XP]
    #DiceRoller( 2d6-1 )
  • Ambrose,

    Arizona cringes away from you, but Pretzel stays in your way, moving up to take whatever you're prepared to dish out. If you're dealing Harm, she takes it.

    What do you do?
  • [Bones]

    I tense up again when Grekkor shouts, followin’ his gaze to see...Ambrose?

    A wave of sickness washes back over me as my heart starts to race again. Scourge’s voice raises in volume. No this isn’t right. I need to be calm. My hands start shakin’ violently again. No. I need whatever this bath is. It might be savin’ my life. I’ve been wantin’ to see his face so badly...so badly....but not now. I can’t see him now. This is important. I can feel it.

    “Ambrose, stop it!” I yell miserably, wrappin’ my arms around myself again mostly just in an attempt to keep from shakin’ so bad. I see a flash of his sword, an' feel almost dizzy with panic. “You need to leave!”
  • edited October 2012
    With the interference, that doesn't change Pretzel's choice, she stands in the way, stepping into the hall to give you no room to move around her, "You heard 'em, go on now."
  • What's she wielding?
  • If it comes to blows, she has a nightstick.
  • edited October 2012
    Bones’ words cut me to the quick, whatever a quick is. She’s still denying her feelings. Well I can’t blame her. It’s easier to accept inevitability of death when one is detached and has nothing to lose, no relationships to sever, no pieces of ones heart buried inextricably within others.

    Dammit Grekkor, everytime I enter this damn building you’ve got another woman I care about stripped down, wet, and acquiescing to your arbitrary execution. Hell no.

    I raise my eyebrows at Pretzel. She’s usually demure around me, as in I can’t say I remember her ever speaking words to me while meeting my eyes. Now she’s daring stand before my sword. I know I could take her down with hardly a breath, but I’m guessing Bones wouldn’t appreciate me making lethal gashes in people just to save her damn life.

    I stick my chin out, put the center of my saber blade in my teeth and fluidly disembark all my garments. I’m really rather fast at disrobing, even though doing so for the Baths isn’t where I got my practice.

    That feels better. Now Bones and I match, in all our glorious, raw contrast.

    Retrieving my sword from my teeth I set the point to the ground and step close to Pretzel. My voice oozes barely restrained civility, ”I would like... a bath.”

    If she doesn’t move, I’ll use my non-sword arm to shove her aside, possibly to the ground while avoiding her retaliation. Nobody gets in my way when Bones’ life is on the line. I don’t care how much Grekkor’s wheedled her into wanting it.

    It comes to blows. I'm not using sword harm, like the blade. Just wrestling, unarmed striking or hilt bashing.
  • Ambrose,

    Despite her training, her time seeing people nude in the Baths, Pretzel stares at your body. You hear Camaro growl behind you at her and realize she's stripping down, too. After Grekkor's order, Pretzel draws her nightstick and stammers, "I can- I can't." She's talking to your chest, really, distracted by your boldness. You shove her aside and she tries to block you awkwardly, slapping your forearm with the stick. You overpower her though, and she is unable to bar your entry. Take 1 Harm from that rough rap on your arm.
  • Amrbose,

    Harm Move
    #DiceRoller( 2d6+1 )
  • edited October 2012
    Impossible Reflexes: 2-armor while nekkid or near nekkid
    Not to be Fd With: -1 harm from being equivalent of a small gang. Also dishing out +1harm for same reason.
    0-harm, but still a harm roll?
  • edited October 2012

    As you move past Pretzel, your off hand numbs out a little, but you shake it off (EDIT: with armor, you end up with 0-Harm, no Harm move)

    Now you're in The Baths, you see Bones in the pool, Jeanette beginning to sponge off her shoulders.


    The Pryers failed you, Ambrose is here. Now you know why the spirit guardians were alert.

    What do you do?
  • Your choice, Grekkor. Opening Brain or Reading a sitch.
  • edited October 2012
    I’m remembering now how Frost died right here—well out there—for, if I recall correctly, similar infractions: beating up Pryers. But Pretzel asked for it right? And it’s not like I hurt her bad, right? My sword point is still to the ground, just in case. It’s not like I’m wearing a scabbard anyhow.

    To Grekkor: "Yeah... so, sorry about Pretzel. She didn't move when I offered the chance, gentleman that I am. No offense or anything."
    To Bones, trying to keep a level levity to my voice, despite her glowering at me, resisting as always. "Hey baby, what's up?"

    I’m not sure how I feel about Camaro following my every move. She may not be as nimble as I am. Wait, she’s preeeetty nimble. Still. Point stands.

    Something fishy’s going on here. Bones doesn’t value her life, but she also doesn’t usually play nice with folks telling her what to do, especially Grekkor. Ami alluded that Grekkor’d been strung... is he still, an agent of another, even the Bride perhaps, though that’s twisted and I’d not think she’d want Bones dead.

    Hmm. Curiouser and curiouser.

    Heck, I'm feeling punchy and heroic. I'll even dare risk that creepy stage and hills of script page for my Bonamie. Damn strings everywhere. Black Widow's in our midst. You getting this Eurydice? Hero faces giant creepy spiders unflinching and unclad.

    "Rock on Don Juan, now just slay the dragon and you're golden. Hell, you’re all already naked even..." The voice comes from Camaro, though her mouth doesn’t move. Nobody else heard that right?

    I glance at Camaro, equally unclad. She looks at me strangely, as if disbelieving in the existence dragons. What? Yeah she totally heard that. The only other time anybody else’s heard that bush chat was Bones during our Moment-To-Remember. Hawkward.

    And wait, “all already naked?” I widen my eyes at Camaro now. My gaze is a pendulum swinging between the two women, apparently.

    What the hell are you doing dryad? Apparently Eurydice’s a fan of humanity in the raw. Yes. We’re poignant in our vulnerable mortality.

    Hmm. What dragon? Is she just tricking me again? Dragons and wizards, oh and trolls. Theme of the day I guess.
  • Opening Brain
    #DiceRoller( 2d6+0 )
  • Grekkor,

    Ask your three questions about the sitch. I'll give you answers. You won't get a bonus for acting on it and if you act against it, you'll take a -1.
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