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malkav11 posted:We already trashed two of the heroes pretty decisively. Would we make a bigger splash if we do the same with Argent? Sure, but I don't think we need to. Anyway, it doesn't sound like we have the option to leave, so it's a moot point. We probably couldn't outrun her anyway. The suit can't fly. The voting is close so I'll give it its full time. Expect the two hour warning somewhere around 12 hours from the time of this post.
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Feb 17, 2020 04:02
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| # ? May 3, 2024 06:04 |
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Use telepathy for Lady Argent. She's likely still stronger than us, so a physical fight isn't a good idea. She's likely still faster than us, so running away isn't a good idea. Telepathy has a proven success record against her, yeah she has her guard up now but a) our powers have also been enhanced, b) we don't need the same level of control. And using telepathy here still keeps the nanovores in reserve in case Dickhead Robocop turns up. Steel seems like a strong counter to telepathic abilities but metal devouring nanites seem like an even stronger counter to him. Yes technically his dampeners have a limit, but it's a pretty high limit. Yes I do like to over analyse fictional fights. Anyway I just binge read the thread so here's a thread's worth of comments: - I nearly noped out of the thread entirely when the setting talked about 'big government' and how things somehow worked without it. I do thing the story is well written, but to me that specific part just seemed dumb. I don't really want to get political but as a point of contrast Shadowrun : Dragonfall has an area with a similar organisational philosophy (or lack of it) which I thought was interesting because it was portrayed as a thing with positives and negatives, but in that opening spiel this game acted like Weird Libertarian Economic Anarchy as 'a good thing' which just rubbed me the wrong way. - Not sure if I'm a broke brained lunatic or just an rear end in a top hat but I was expecting much worse from the body horror section given how much warning was given about it. Though other people seem to appreciate the warnings. Honestly some far more mundane things freak me out much more, but like I said possible broke brained lunatic. - Also seems strange to me that people had a more visceral negative reaction to piloting the empty husk of a braindead person than forcibly controlling a conscious person to go on a crime rampage and beat up their friends. I'm not saying the former is good, but to me the latter seems much worse. - As a stylistic suggestion, if you had your commentary in italics I think it would make it easier to see at a glance which parts were commentary and which parts were game text whilst skimming (if you want to reread a section checking details for example).
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Feb 17, 2020 10:09
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Slightly late, but it's time for the two hour warning!
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Feb 17, 2020 23:15
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telepathy - argent is a more serious opponent, time to break out the big guns. If there's an option perhaps we can even use this to further lead suspicion onto the person we blamed earlier.
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Feb 17, 2020 23:26
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Telepathy Hell of a time for a first vote, but this seems like it would make for good narrative if nothing else.
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Feb 18, 2020 05:43
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The Easy Way "You're late." It takes you a moment to collect yourself, but the advantage of wearing a helmet with vocal distorters is that what you project doesn't have to be the truth. Not that you are intimidated. Or, well, maybe you are a little intimidated. Lady Argent is still in her dress, looking like she is ready to hit the dance floor at any moment. Apparently, she had not stormed off far enough so she couldn't come back, but she had gone far enough so that she wasn't willing to take the time to change. If she even had her suit with her… Maybe Herald is the only one who lives the true hero life. You always used to keep your suit under your clothes, if you could. Safer. A lot safer. "I was in a cab," she huffs, answering your question. "On my way home. You'll pay for ruining my evening." She flexes her fingers a little, the sharp edges gleaming in the floodlights. You've just beaten two of the Rangers and you feel at the top of your game. If she wants to pick a fight, she can—but really, you doubt that she could beat you. So if she wants a fight, you'll give her one. Finally. Ortega might be a personal challenge, but Lady Argent is a true test of your skills. She moves like liquid lightning, the blue dress clinging to her form as she makes a rush for you. No shoes—her feet are bare on the asphalt, and you know that has to be uncomfortable for her. What did she do with them? Leave them in the cab? Step out of them once she saw there was a fight going on? You're curious because it is information, and the more you have, the better you can play these heroes. The better you can win.  I'm not sure if Charlotte is being extra attentive because of her struggles as Jane, but I appreciate the continued attention to detail re: High heels being more or less a bondage implement that you're allowed to wear in polite company. "Ruining your evening?" You give her your best swagger. "If you were leaving in a cab, it sounds like you had already called it a night." "Great, you're a talker." She rolls her eyes and starts walking towards you, gait purposeful yet strangely sensual. More snake than cat. "Just my luck." "Oh, I do more than talk." You beckon her with one hand, biting back a curse as she shifts gears almost too fast for you to keep up. Almost, but not quite. Leaping back to gain some distance, you parry her blows, launching into a counterattack that has her back up in turn. Her silver skin gleams in the bright glow of the floodlights. "They were waiting for you, you know." You drop the words like poisonous little barbs, parrying a blow hard enough to jar. "Even when I was picking them apart." She doesn't answer, but you can feel the spike of annoyance from her mind, letting you know you hit a sore spot. "You didn't even check if they were alive. That's a bit cold, don't you think?" You land a blow that makes her grunt and pivot, trying for a throw. But you leap back in time to keep to your feet. "Blather, blather…I thought we were fighting?" Lady Argent flexes her hands and the claws gain an extra inch, turning into blades. Interesting. You didn't know she could do that. How? You have no idea. You have to check with some of your contacts in the villain scene to see if anybody has any ideas about what might be going on with her. There must be a lot of people who have fought her, and some might even have been lucky to escape arrest. Whatever she is, her files don't tell the whole truth. You don't like unknown variables. So, despite the fun you're having weaving this dance of blows and counterblows with her, you have to start wrapping things up. You have places to be, after all, victories to gloat over. "If you want to end this, by all means, let's." You beckon her closer, eyes narrowing as you go over the various means to bring her down. I've studied her; I know how to take her down. > This is taking too much time—let's end this fast. I wait for my moment. We just don't have the equipment package to deal with this particular threat. Lady Argent is strong, fast, mobile, and durable; we can't afford to wait around. If this ever turns into a melee, we'll have problems.--- Time to finish this. You can't draw this out indefinitely. As she moves in for the attack, you ready yourself. Her claws are a silver scythe and you step inside, surprising her with a head butt. She jumps back, swearing at the blinding pain in her nose. It's not broken. Can it break? Maybe you'll find out. She's fast, but so are you, and you're not afraid to take a few risks to keep up. Trading blows back and forth, you fall into a dance fast enough to press you to the limits of your reactions. It's hard to read her intentions; she doesn't think before she strikes, liquid silver movements out of nowhere. But you can keep up. You're good enough, fast enough, adrenaline coursing through you. She lashes out with sweeping claws, making you drop underneath, going for her knee, knocking her off-balance before rolling to your feet once more. She's smiling now, as are you. But you're running out of time, and she shows no sign of slowing down. It is time to end this now, even though you're sure this looks far too good on the cameras. Enough is enough, and all you need is to get some distance so you can enact your escape plan. The next time she moves in, you will yourself to be still, risking catastrophic damage for the chance to get a moment to connect with her mind, to— Yes! Your perceptions connect with hers, and as you roll aside, she aims her blow for the illusory double you have left in your place. Good. You don't wait to see what happens next; you immediately turn and leg it. No way of telling how long until she realizes she's fighting air. Time to get away! Loki special. Gotta love it.--- A quick glance around the battlefield shows no immediate threats, so you take the chance to drop a smoke bomb. It blankets the whole area in thick, noxious mist. Your helmet filters it out, but you can hear the cries of panic as the teargas-like substance causes people to run for their lives, retching and crying. Good. Nobody is paying you any attention right now, and the smoke hides you from the choppers. You need to get the hell out of here right now before something happens to your money. Where did you put your bag? Where? For a moment, you almost panic in the thick smoke, trying to pinpoint where you dropped the loot. You haven't lost your edge—getting out safely with your prize is the most important skill of all. Taking a moment to focus, you manage to find your bag. You toss it over one shoulder as you run towards the sewers. Better to get out of here before Marshal Steel arrives - no use pushing your luck. If Lady Argent was a problem, Marshal Steel is even worse. Everything Lady Argent has going for her, plus effective immunity to our powers. We do not want that fight. --- The grate to the sewer disintegrates easily under your gentle nanovore touch. In the chaos, it will take them a long time to figure out where you have gone. And between the wreckage and smoke, nobody will notice an innocent hole in the ground. At least, not before you are long gone. You did it. You actually did it. --- Darkness is a familiar comfort. After a few minutes of mad dashing through the dark tunnels, you allow yourself to slow down enough to catch your breath and figure out where you are. This far below the surface, you are well away from any cameras, so you can relax your strut and make your way down the tunnel without having to pretend or hold a pose. It's a relief to let go of the part of you that makes sure you always look good. The shadows are your true home, after all. Perhaps one day you will be able to pull this act off without effort, but right now it's left you with the fizzy feeling of adrenaline withdrawal in your veins. It only takes you a moment to tap the sewer schematics and bring them up on your HUD. This is not the most glamorous of escape routes, but when dealing with fliers, it's always safest to go underground. You doubt that Herald can do anything but moan in pain right now, but you couldn't have been sure of that when you planned this out. Besides, there are always choppers. Better safe than sorry. You picked this particular escape route in part because Los Diablos is crisscrossed by underground tunnels, some abandoned, some still in use. The tangled labyrinth below consists of everything from cable ducts to sewers, to the massive storm drains venting the sometimes-cataclysmic rainfall in the mountains. You checked the weather there yesterday; there should be a fair amount of water in the storm drains, but not so much that your path won't be navigable. It should be a straight path to the harbor and your waiting escape vehicle. You hope. You grimace under the helmet, grateful for the fact that it filters the air before you breathe it. It was designed to handle poison gas; apparently, it works just as well against the stench. Back when you scoped out these tunnels, you had worn an air filter, but that had only cut the worst of the edge. This is much better. At least the disgusting part of the slog is just the first leg of your journey. Once you switch into the abandoned tunnels, you won't have to think about what you are wading through. Or rather, try to not think. The bag of money is awkward over your shoulder. It's strange to imagine that so much of your future is contained inside that waterproof bag. Now that the adrenaline is fading, you are starting to feel the toll this battle has taken on you. Your suit's systems tell you it has been less than an hour since you woke up in the van, but it feels like a lifetime. Your new identity is out in the open now, and come morning, you will get to see how the press judges your performance. I'm a little nervous about that…. I beat the hell out of the Rangers! > It won't matter what they think. --- While the press are useful, they are also a distraction. Let them make their headlines, craft their stories, and cultivate their heroes and villains. You're allowing them their initial freedom of expression because if they go against your wishes in the long run, there are always ways to correct them. There are some perks to being a telepathic body-snatcher, after all. However, the press is not your current concern. You still have to get out of here in one piece, and it's quite a slog on foot. A lot of time to think about what you did. Even though you don't want to. It's much harder to deal with the memories without the adrenaline bolstering your conscience. Without the need to fight, you find yourself remembering the blood. The look on his face…. You beat Ortega—sure, you had planned to do that, but so badly? It feels different when you are the one who caused the blood and the bruises, the broken bones…. But that is what you wanted. Right? You wanted him to… I wanted him to respect me. I wanted him to fear me. > I wanted him to stay out of this. I wanted him to stop me. Ortega's involvement was unfortunate. Not only did he actually put up a fight, he almost tied us up long enough for Lady Argent to get involved. Even barefoot and unarmoured, she'd probably have turned the tide - unless we were somehow able to trick her into attacking Ortega, I guess. Luckily, we don't have to worry about that scenario.--- You had hoped Ortega wouldn't have to be among your first targets. It was always unlikely that he'd stay out of the way, sure, but maybe there would have been some other emergency, maybe Steel would have been there at the party instead, and… What would have changed, really? You always knew you would have to face Ortega eventually, so perhaps it is better to get this over with fast. Pull off that band-aid and rub the ache away. It's over and done now. --- It's a long way to go yet, and you can't allow yourself to get too distracted. You can't believe that you really managed to pull this off. Sure, you've probably strained a few muscles you hadn't used in ages. But on the whole, you got through that ordeal pretty much unscathed. Seems like Dr. Mortum lived up to her part of the deal. Smiling to yourself, you press on, one foot in front of the other, following the dotted track on your helmet's HUD. The dotted track… You pause for a moment, lowering the intensity of your displays so you can focus on your surroundings. Dark. Wet. Stinking. There's a sound of dripping water, and… What was that? Was it anything? A rat? Your own paranoia working against you? If there really is something else in here, at least you are aware of it. Best to keep an eye and an ear open as you press on towards the exit. You start walking again, wading through the muck as you try not to think too hard about what's in it. It won't be long until you can get out of the stinking part of the sewer. There's a connection further up that should allow you to get to a drier, abandoned tunnel, and then it's a fair distance to walk until you reach the ladder to the storm drain. From there, it's a straight path to the harbor. Of course, it doesn't look very far on the screen, and it surely didn't feel like this hard a slog when you test-walked the distance a week ago. But now you've spent an evening with your body comatose and folded up in a truck, followed by a long, hard battle that's drained a lot of the reserves in your suit. Right now, it feels like it's taking forever. > Even so, I will be slow and careful. I will hurry up in order to get out of here fast. Let's not blow it at the last second.--- Right now, you will be slow and careful, allowing yourself to take your time. It would be easy to get lost down here, and while your map should keep you on track, you don't know the condition of these tunnels. You're trudging through a half-derelict labyrinth; there are not many regulations in Los Diablos, so companies can build and rebuild pretty much as they please. In addition, much of this city is interlaced with the ruins of pre-quake Los Angeles. There are tunnels here that aren't marked on any of your carefully-stolen maps, the remnants of old systems twisted and broken by the destruction. Not to mention the secret drains releasing unknown chemicals and sewage into the bay…there's plenty of trouble to run into, if you're not careful. Luckily, being careful is one of your traits…. Moving carefully ahead, you make sure to keep an eye on where you are going. There's no need to run yourself ragged; slow and careful wins the race. Wait…. You frown under your helmet, keeping your pace as you let your mind drift and slowly fill the tunnel around you. There are hints of bleedover as thoughts from the world above filter through your senses, distant and muted. But you could have sworn that… There! That's not a thought-ghost—that's someone down here in the tunnels with you. It's Lady Argent. --- You're not surprised that she's showing up, since you didn't put her out of commission like Herald and Ortega. You just bought enough time to escape, and it looks like she has figured out where you went. At least she seems to be alone, which gives you a choice. Should you try to outrun her? Or perhaps stage an ambush? I am fast and know where I am going. I should be able to outrun her. > Better use this time to prepare an ambush. I don't fancy our chances. We might be able to outpace her, but could we do it by a wide enough margin to throw her off the trail completely? Better to take her out while we're alone with her; I can't imagine Marshal Steel maneuvering his giant suit around down here.--- You know that Lady Argent is fast, and it looks like she has no inclination of stopping any time soon. If you run, there's a chance that she'll catch you—better to use the fact that you know you are being followed to stage an ambush. This is too good an opportunity to pass up. Just a little further, then around the corner and up on dry ground. You have a few good spots ahead that could work for an ambush—the question is, how will you try to bring her down? Mental or physical attack? She is weak against your mental attacks, but every time you use them, you run the risk of reminding her who possessed her. Not to mention that one of the strengths of mental attacks is to never let your opponent know you are using them. The mind is a fascinating thing; even a normal human can become more resistant to telepathy over time, as long as they get the chance to practice. That's why you usually resort to trickery over force, not returning to the same target twice unless you have to. Your doll is a very useful exception there: with no mind to contest your will, Jane has become more an extension of your own form than a foreign entity. On the other hand, Lady Argent is nearly invulnerable physically—can you really fight her? Do you want to? > I will use my telepathy to bring her down. I want to see if I can fight her. We know her secret: She's invulnerable, but still feels the pain. I bet we could, in theory, overwhelm her if we landed enough hits - but we can't injure her, so that's just a guess. Let's do this the smart way.--- Even with the risks, at least you know you can take her if you focus on her mind. This time, you will make sure she stays down. Around you, the darkness of the tunnel is painted pale green by your night vision. Whatever detail is lost to the monochrome is filled in by your mind as your senses expand to fill the area. Lady Argent doesn't seem bothered by the darkness, and that's not really a surprise. You remember the enhanced vision you had when you possessed her, the way the walls peeled back to reveal their technological secrets. Can she see inside your armor? Figure out what makes it tick? The thought is more than a little nerve-racking. The tunnel you are in is one of the larger ones, a storm drain venting excess water to the harbor. Next to you, water rushes past in increasingly violent fury, making the walkway you have been running on a precarious position for a fight. Regardless, it makes a fitting backdrop to your battle, the rushing water a subsonic rumble you can feel more in your feet than in the air. Lady Argent's dress is covered in sewage, her face locked in an angry frown. She must have run her fingers over it at some point, leaving darker streaks that make her look like an enraged tiger. You can feel the thundercloud rage that just keeps building, but there is a fuzzy edge to it…drugs? Maybe? It doesn't feel right, but there's something muddling her presence, turning her thoughts into a slippery tumble. Did she take something? Morphine? Had the paramedics arrived? "No more tricks," she says with a sneer, slowly circling you. "It’ll only hurt more." "Are you sure I really am here, then? Maybe you should pinch yourself." You keep taunting her, reasoning that if she is angry, you should make her angrier. Angry people make mistakes, and anger makes them easier to manipulate. But it's still only luck and telepathy that enable you to dodge the next blow. "I've got your number now." She keeps circling. "Don't think you can fool me twice with the same trick." Her legs flex and she lunges for you again, claws tearing furrows in the wall next to your head. You realize she’s not playing anymore. This is for real. I try to be subtle. > I'll brute force it. Strength of Mind is our stronger domain. Just as importantly, we used power during the nanovore raid and finesse during the psychic surgery; she'll associate brute mental power with her mysterious attacker, not with Charlotte.--- Even if she is becoming more resilient against your mental manipulations, that's dependent on her knowing that you are using them. Hence the physical misdirection…. Hit, retreat, dodge and weave. You can keep up with her for a little, pushing your body and your mind to the limit as you try to find the right timing for your attack. It's hard to focus on moving with her flow, keeping one step ahead of her claws, waiting for your moment. A psychic punch is not very different from a normal one: you need aim, power, and— There! You force your way past her nascent psychic defenses, blanketing her thoughts with your own. It's more wrestling than a punch, but once you've got a grip, you can just keep piling on the pressure. Just telling her, again and again, to stop. To not think. To be blank. Dark. Quiet. To fall. As if in slow motion, Lady Argent's legs give out, and she collapses to the ground in a boneless heap. Did that do it? For a moment you don't dare to breathe, expecting her to get up again. Nothing. She's not moving. Is it a trap? You try to pick up on any thoughts, but there's no consciousness to read. She's out cold. She is also slipping…. She lies too close to the edge, one arm already over the side. As you stand there, transfixed, you can see her slowly, inexorably begin to slide into the rushing waters. Will she drown? Should you drag her up on the sidewalk so she's safe from being washed out to sea? How long will she be unconscious for? It wasn't long last time—what guarantee do you have that she won't take you down if she wakes up while you are helping her? You have a split second to decide before it is too late. > Push her in so I can be sure. Drag her up on the walkway. No risks.--- You want her gone, and the only way to be sure of that is to watch her get washed away. There's a brief pause to make sure she's not faking it, and then you kick her in the side so she slips into the raging torrent. For a moment, she flashes silver under the surface, like a massive fish. Then she's gone. Perhaps she'll drown. Perhaps she'll wash up somewhere. Perhaps she'll come to, halfway to the ocean. It doesn't matter, as you will be gone by then. After one final look down the tunnel, you bring your HUD back up, continuing your trek towards the exit. Without pursuit, it's just a routine slog. It's not long until you make your way up the final ladder leading to your freedom. --- Your escape vehicle of choice is a nondescript van that used to belong to a dealer of recycled electronics. It's large enough to be comfortable, and most importantly, the windows are tinted. You quickly strip the armor in the back of the van, stashing it in a crate ready for that purpose. It has a false top; anybody opening it would just see scrapped electronic equipment. That should also make it harder to find the armor with a scan. The matching coveralls hide your skinsuit, making you just another nobody. Climbing into the driver's seat, you steal a glance in the mirror. Your eyes have a strange gleam to them, and you… You blink. Hard. It's weird thinking that the person staring back at you just went toe-to-toe with the Rangers and came out on top. Strange, but wonderful. No. You can't let that get to your head. You need to drive back to your hideout and let the nanovores devour the van. You can't risk leaving any evidence behind. But all that is just wrapping things up. What matters is that you did it. You actually did it. Now to get your aching body home and find out what happened to your puppet…. --- Physical Status Stamina: You are rested. Willpower: You feel tired. Injuries: You are fine, with no significant wounds. Telepathy Strength of Mind: 63% Subtle Manipulations: 75% Armor Status Need Repair: 0% ||| Fine: 100% --- We nailed it! Good job, folks: The character we built together was able to clear the museum raid with no injuries and no armour damage. If we'd also pulled off the Psychopathor heist with no injuries, we'd have earned a Steam achievement called Can't Touch This. Unfortunately, we got hurt during that one. We shouldn't feel bad about missing it, though; it's extremely fiddly and I've only managed it once. Maybe next time around. Next time: The aftermath. Sorites fucked around with this message at 07:36 on Feb 18, 2020 |
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Feb 18, 2020 07:27
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Huh. That went better than I could've hoped for. Convenient for burying evidence though it would be, I wouldn't trust Lady Argent to actually perish here. Not convinced a hero bites it without a body to show for it, and even then it's no guarantee. Still, the goal here was to get money and that we did. Not a bad debut to a life of villainy, not bad at all.
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Feb 18, 2020 07:54
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okay but the important question is, does our bag have "SWAG" or a giant dollar sign on it?
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Feb 18, 2020 09:02
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Synthbuttrange posted:okay but the important question is, it's written $WAG
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Feb 18, 2020 15:09
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a flawless victory, nice
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Feb 18, 2020 17:28
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Go team! Great LP and game btw, might pick it up myself for a spin or two ThatBasqueGuy fucked around with this message at 17:25 on Feb 21, 2020 |
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Feb 21, 2020 17:05
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I just wish the next one would come out already, I need more.
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Feb 21, 2020 18:01
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Consequences Back in your hideout, you take a moment to scan the surroundings before you allow yourself to relax. Closing your eyes, you focus on trying to pick up suspicious thoughts—any traces of something that could be a danger to you. Nothing. It's not surprising, as your current base is located in the old industrial parts of Los Diablos. The buildings here sustained a lot of quake damage, and the property values were too low to bother rebuilding anything. The ground is riddled with cracks and has been deemed too dangerous to reinforce. If there's another big quake, chances are the entire hillside might come crashing down. It's a risk you're willing to take; you don't plan to stay here long. Until you have the funds to get something secure, it is better to use temporary (and disposable) hideouts. It makes you a lot harder to track. Luckily, that will soon be a non-issue. You had let the nanovores devour the van some distance from here, so you're thankful to finally get the chance to sit down. There's not a single part of you that's not aching or chafing. The shower here is improvised and cold, but it's enough to clean the grime from your body. The soap smells of hospitals, and you wince every time you touch a particularly tender bruise. But right now, getting clean is your top priority. Everything else can wait. You don't want to smell another sewer in your life. Sliding into a clean robe makes you feel like a new woman. You just want to collapse and fall asleep, but you are still far too keyed up for that. Not to mention that there are a few loose threads to tie up…. So what now? > I let Charlotte go to sleep, getting back into Jane's body to reclaim her. I will visit the hospital and see if I can find Ortega. We have no real need to find Ortega; it's more important to see what happened to Jane - and just as importantly, to Dr. Mortum.--- You need to reclaim Jane, and the sooner the better. That way your body can get some much-needed rest without your anxieties keeping it awake. It's times like this you just know the dreams will be bad, and there's no reason to invite more pain into your life than you have to. So, lying back on the mattress you keep in a corner, you pull up the blanket, close your eyes, and try to let go. Try to find that peace. That calmness… Try to ignore the aches in your body… The excitement still bubbling through your veins… Where? There! It takes you longer than you like to locate Jane. It's always hard to connect to her from this kind of distance, as closeness makes things so much easier. It's only familiarity that makes it possible at all, and even then you feel the strain. It's not like this is a safe and proven science; every time you leave your body, you suffer a breathless, empty moment before you manage to find yourself at home in your puppet. Could you lose yourself out there? Fade away into the nothing, unable to find your way home? Perhaps. You know you are vulnerable to attack at least, but there are few active psychics on the coast, and none of them are aware of you. You intend to keep it that way. Slowly, slowly, you connect your mental threads to your puppet, making yourself comfortable. You are surrounded by the smells of plastic and disinfectant. You try to relax into your new body, drifting into the deep, calm pool of Jane. Sink. Watch the surface from afar. Rest there in the deep blue ocean of her mind. Feel her. It takes a moment to adjust perspectives, the waters unusually agitated, but then you groan softly and taste the sounds that her lips make. You let yourself rise now. Her mouth becomes your mouth. Breaking the surface. Breathe. At times, it worries you that her body feels as much like home as your own. Perhaps it is the freedom of being head blind when you are in her. The world is once more filled with mysteries and illusions, and you don’t have to look at the ugliness of people's souls; you have the luxury of imagining something better. Sometimes, you wonder if you should get back on the drugs when you're Charlotte—but drugs can’t erase memories. They can’t wipe who you are. Where you came from. Other things can. Wipe the slate clean. Erase them all. It takes a moment for you to realize that someone is sitting next to you. Jane's eyes feel unused and filled with sand, but you let your lashes flutter open and realize that Dr. Mortum is sitting in one of the chairs. She is typing on her phone, a focused frown on her face. The hospital lights are harsh and pale, making her seem like the only solid thing in the room, warm black skin a welcome contrast to the white of the surroundings. You don't even want to know how you look—if it's anything close to how you feel, not good. After her phone lets out a soft chirping sound, she glances over at your still form, the focused frown turning into one of concern. Now that's a surprise. I wasn't sure she'd care. > So far, so good. All is according to plan. Despite the possible complications, I am happy to see her there. Phew. Jane's alive, mostly unharmed, and still in her relationship.--- You never planned for Dr. Mortum to be more than a provider of weaponry. But once you started interacting, you realized there was a certain chemistry between her and Jane. It really would be a shame not to use it, and you have to admit, you've grown increasingly fond of the mad scientist. Well, maybe more science than madness, but you have to be a little touched in the head to choose this path in life. But despite whatever feelings might have started to grow, above all, this is a partnership where you get what you want from her at the lowest possible price. Right? Right. "What…" You don't have to fake the cough that interrupts your words. Your mouth is dry and filled with dust, like you've swallowed plaster. The cough is violent enough so you have to take a moment to regain your breath. It takes another moment before you can accept the small plastic cup of water that Dr. Mortum is offering you. "Here, ma chérie." She steadies you with a hand on your shoulder, making sure you don't spill the water. "Thanks," you gasp, rinsing the taste of pulverized concrete and dust out of your mouth and wishing you could do the same with the inside of your nose. But other than minor annoyances, Jane's body seems fine. No injuries. Good, Dr. Mortum did her job. Dr. Mortum pours you another glass of water before putting the phone back in her coat. You realize that she's still in her party finery, the overcoat unable to mask the dusty state of her clothes. Thinking back, it's hard to imagine what happened there from her point of view, the bystander fleeing with the crowd. Luckily, you don't have to pretend that Jane remembers. "What happened?" You make sure the words are weak and shaky, and honestly, it's not even much of an act. "Where am I?" "You are at the Memorial Hospital, ma chérie. As for what happened…" She pauses when she sees the look on your face. The Memorial Hospital is not just any hospital. It is the premiere celebrity clinic of Los Diablos, the place to go to if you have the money or the insurance to make sure you get nothing but the best. They also have a reputation for being one of the best clinics to go to if you need medical attention due to problems with your Boosted or Modded physiology. The best legal one, anyway…. "Why did you…" You hadn't counted on ending up somewhere this visible. This is where the Rangers would go, and half the people at the gala, and… "Calm down." Dr. Mortum gently takes the cup from your hand before you spill it. "If you are concerned about money, don't be. This is a favor from a friend of mine—you are here off the books, because I have to admit I was more than a little worried about you." Dr. Mortum is frowning a little, watching you as if she is expecting you to faint at any moment. "I'm…fine." You hesitate so long that she chuckles and gestures for you to lie back down. "You hit your head quite hard, ma chérie. I couldn't wake you. Dr. Halabi thought that you might have slipped into a coma." You feel yourself blushing a little, wondering how much the doctors know. How are you supposed to handle that kind of information? Ignore it? Tell the truth? > I distract with a bit of flirting. I let her know I've been in a coma in the past. I laugh it off. It hasn't failed us yet.--- "Did you kiss me awake, then?" You touch your lips lightly, getting an amused chuckle in return before Dr. Mortum straightens her back a little. "I wouldn't kiss an unconscious woman. I have my rules." "It was a joke," you point out. "Not an accusation." "Then you truly must be feeling better now." But you did manage to coax a smile from her. Good. "I am fine," you say again, with a weak smile. "Well, mostly anyway. What happened?" "Don't you remember?" There's something that sounds like real worry in her voice. "No, no, I do." You quickly calm her down. You don't want to end up being examined for amnesia as well. "I remember the party; it's just what happened to me that's a blank." "I see." There's a sigh of relief, and Dr. Mortum leans a little closer. "I suppose that congratulations are in order. And a raise for you, I hope." "Shh…" you caution, looking around. The room is private and empty, but you don't know who might be watching. And in this body, you really would have no idea. "Oh, it is perfectly safe here." Dr. Mortum pats the pocket where she put the phone. "I activated the jammers a while ago. I don't want to risk being overheard." "Of course you did." You almost chuckle; it is pleasant working with someone who has an equal amount of professional paranoia. "Was…was it the explosion then?" "Either you misread the timer, or it was stronger than you expected." I put the blame on my boss. I admit I might have miscalculated. > I admit that I let myself get injured on purpose. Let's not make Dr. Mortum dislike Jane's mysterious boss any more than she already does. Jane's ambitions and private schemes would be a better scapegoat for these injuries than her boss's disregard.--- "I didn't think the explosion would be that big," you admit with a small shrug. "I thought that a few scrapes and bruises would make sure that I am not a suspect." "Ma chérie…" Dr. Mortum sighs and gives you a long look. "With all due respect, that's ridiculously reckless." "It worked out, didn't it?" You smile a little, trying to look innocent. "It…" There are more words coming, but she bites them off and shakes her head instead. "Just try to be a little more careful in the future, alright?" "I will," you say with a solemn look on your face. "I promise." There is a pause as both of you attempt to read each other, trying to see what the other one really thinks. Dr. Mortum used to be simple to predict—wave some shiny science challenges in front of her face, and she'd jump right in. You thought you had her figured out. Pay the price, get the goods, then go your separate ways. You hadn't really counted on getting close enough to ever see another side. "Ma chérie?" You nearly jump as she speaks, still a little bit on edge after everything that has happened. "Yes?" "I don't think it is safe for you to go back to work again after this." Dr. Mortum leans a little closer, lowering her voice. "Trust me, I know a bad deal and a bad boss when I see one. They are using you." I deflect by flirting with her…. "Don't mother me. I can make my own decisions." "I am loyal to my boss." "I am afraid of what will happen if I leave." > "I haven't even been paid yet." Okay, now this is dangerous. We need to address this - but I don't like any of the thoughts in mind. Flirting might not work when Dr. Mortum is being so serious, the middle options all seem risky...let's play on Jane's mercenary streak for now and try to end this conversation.--- "Hey, I haven't even been paid yet." You cross your arms across your chest, trying your best to look tough. "That's my first priority." "That is a fair point." Despite herself, the corners of Dr. Mortum's mouth twitch in amusement. "I'll keep your warnings in mind, okay?" You soften your smile as she reaches out to touch you. Her hand is soft and warm. "And once I get my money, who knows?" This has become a little too personal for your liking, so you fake another cough attack, causing Dr. Mortum to offer a fresh glass of water from the pitcher. It tastes faintly of chlorine, and you wonder idly if there is something else in there. No. You banish that thought with a shiver. This is not the Farm; this is a hospital. And nobody has any reason to think there is anything wrong with you. You're safe. "So…" you say, once the water is gone and your mind has calmed down. Control. That is the most important thing here. "What happened once I was out cold, then?" "Oh, there was a fight, of course. I have to say, the armor performed splendidly." There is a proud smile on Dr. Mortum's face. "The Rangers were no match." "Good." You smile a little weakly. "I hope my boss feels the same." "Well, if there are any issues, at least we will have another excuse to meet." "I was more worried they would think I had done a bad job." You lower your gaze, making sure to look suitably nervous. "I doubt you are capable of doing a bad job, ma chérie." She frowns a little, leaning closer. "That being said…do think you have cause for alarm?" "It worked, didn't it?" You slowly look up, letting your smile out just to get one in return. Sometimes people are so easy to manipulate even without powers. "It most certainly did. Your boss…" Someone knocks on the door. --- You feel your body tensing up, fight-or-flight reflexes kicking in. You scramble back on the bed, staring at the door, which swings open without waiting for an answer. The nurse… No. Not a nurse. Ortega. Bruised and looking like hell in what looks to be a borrowed overcoat—but he is on his feet, looking worried. Hell. "Jane?" He smiles in relief as he spots you, and it takes a moment before he notices you are not alone. "Oh, I'm sorry. Am I interrupting something? I just wanted to see if you were all right. I heard…" For a moment you almost panic, wondering what to do, eyes darting between Ortega and Dr. Mortum. Ortega looks like he's been put through the wringer, and it is interesting to remember which of your blows caused which bruise. Nothing looks broken, but the bruises are massive and there are stitches crisscrossing his face. The way he stands is a dead giveaway that he's more hurt than he lets on; that casual leaning against the door jamb looks like camouflage to you. Dr. Mortum, however, has gone cold. Cold and controlled, with that small, neutral smile that you recognize from your early meetings. There's the briefest of glances in your direction, to see how you want to play this. I feign confusion. "You heard what?" I get upset. "How did you know I was here? Were you stalking me?" > I get worried. "What happened to you? You look awful!" I add things up. "I thought I saw you at the gala, but…" Hell. I don't know what history these two have, but we need to defuse this. Jane shouldn't know about Entropy's attack, and redirecting Ortega to his humiliating defeat might put a stop to whatever's brewing.--- "What happened to you?" You let your eyes go wide, taking in Ortega's battered state. "You look awful." "Probably the same thing that happened to you." Ortega lets out a relieved breath, your reaction letting him know that you are all right. "With some extra on top of that." "There was…an explosion, right? I think I…" You touch the side of your head, frowning a little. "There was. And a fight afterwards. I thought I spotted you at the party, so I made sure to check with the nurses if you had been brought here as well, and…" "And she might be suffering from a concussion," Dr. Mortum interjects softly, a southern drawl rather than a French accent flavoring her words. "She needs to rest." "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met?" Ortega frowns a little at Dr. Mortum, as if he is trying to put his finger on something. "Are you a friend of Jane's?" You don't hesitate before you answer; that's the best way to lie convincingly. "This is my personal physician, Dr.…" "This is my friend…." > "This is my date…." "This is my colleague…." When no lie is safe, tell an obvious and useless truth. That works in real life, too.--- "This is my date…." You hesitate long enough for Dr. Mortum to catch up and introduce herself. "I'm Jay Brown," Dr. Mortum fills in, smiling a little at Ortega. "Looks like you got caught in that mess as well." "Sort of…." Ortega frowns a little, as if he is trying to figure out how to feel about this. "Are you one of Jane's friends?" Dr. Mortum raises an eyebrow, giving Ortega a quizzical look. "Oh, I'm sorry," you interject. "This is Ricardo Ortega. I mentioned him, remember?" "Pleased to meet you," Ortega adds a bit hesitantly, making no move to shake her hand. "Looks like you have a lot of people worrying about you." Dr. Mortum's smile is the smallest one possible, and the look she gives you is one of neutral curiosity. You can imagine why. She had no idea that you were friendly with Ortega as well, and from her perspective, this must have opened a massive can of worms. The question now is how you will handle this. I'll pretend I do not know about Ortega being Charge. > I'll let Dr. Mortum know I'm aware Ortega is Charge, and hope she can see the advantages. Right now, the good doctor knows what's happening and we absolutely don't. She's smart and experienced; let's give her as much as we can.--- "Honestly, I think the only people who really do are in this room right now," you say with a self-deprecating laugh. "I don't really make friends that easily." "That's a surprise," Ortega says. At the same time, Dr. Mortum starts to say, "Really?" You can't stop the laugh as they talk over each other, even though it's more of a nervous one. "I met Ortega when I was working out," you explain. "It was a chance meeting, but once we started talking, I realized this could be…fun." You turn your head to look at Dr. Mortum with a small, clever smile on your lips. "I mean, you never know what life will throw your way." "You certainly don't." Dr. Mortum looks back at Ortega with a look of amused wonder. "Honestly, I'm just glad I met someone who can keep up," Ortega says with a laugh. "I do my best." You smile softly, then wince and touch your head. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to tire you out," Ortega says, clearing his throat a little awkwardly. "I was just worried." > I tell Ortega we will talk later. I tell Mortum we will talk later. I tell them both I need to rest now. He knows we're with a date, doesn't want to talk about Entropy, is hiding injuries from both of us (especially Dr. Mortum, I'll bet!), and doesn't know how to handle the situation. He'll leave if we give him an excuse.--- "It's okay." You smile a little as a token apology. "We'll talk later, okay?" "We will. I suppose I have others to check up on as well." Ortega sighs a little at that. "What a mess." "I hope they will be all right," you say, thinking about the state you left Herald in and making an effort not to smile. "Me too, me too. Take care. Nice to meet you." The last is said with a small nod to Dr. Mortum, who smiles blandly in return. "Good luck with your friends," she says, all quiet pleasantry. Ortega nods again, then turns around to limp out through the door, closing it behind him at last. Both you and Dr. Mortum keep watching the door in silence, just in case. It stays closed. --- "So…" you start, sighing a little. "That was a mess. I'm sorry—I didn't know he was going to be here." "You weren't the one who picked the hospital. Perhaps it was a little bold of me to risk this one, but I had contacts here and I didn't know you were acquainted with Charge." "Sometimes contacts like that can be useful. He has no idea who I am." Now that is true on so many levels that you can't help the smile sneaking onto your face. "This is not funny," Dr. Mortum says, trying to keep the frown. "Oh admit it, it's a little funny." You reach out and poke her in the side. "Imagine how much I could mess him up if I want to." "I suppose you're right." There is a long pause as she looks you over. "I think I have underestimated exactly how crafty you are, Jane." Your name sounds strangely intense on Dr. Mortum's lips, as if there's some line that has been crossed. "Most people do." You don't try to laugh that comment off; instead, you keep looking at Dr. Mortum, daring her to look away first. "Lesson learned, ma chérie." It is Dr. Mortum that turns her gaze away first, the French accent creeping in once more. "Lesson learned indeed." You don't answer her comment. You just wink and drink some more water. "Now, ma chérie, why don't we see about getting you out of here before there are questions to answer?" Dr. Mortum looks over at the door, as if she is expecting it to slam open at any moment. "If you wish, I could drive you home." No, that is too much of a risk. I will get home later on my own. Yes, I will allow her to take me home. ---  Relationship Red Alert! This is it - the final go/no-go decision about the Dr. Mortum romance, and the last vote of the first playthrough. On the one hand, this relationship has been a huge asset. Dr. Mortum is just our mechanic for now, but I could imagine her becoming "Jane's" key to the underworld; we've clearly won her respect. On the other, do we want Dr. Mortum too close to Charlotte's own body? And on the gripping hand...we won. Why not enjoy it? 36 to 48 hours, two-hour warning will apply.
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Feb 22, 2020 18:57
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Not an easy decision, this one. Frankly, I don't see any way this will end without a particularly ugly confrontation with Dr. Mortum. We are, unfortunately, too close. The best solution, I think, is to get closer. Romancing Dr. Mortum via the puppet is unhealthy. Daring to reveal the truth will be ugly. But, if the relationship could be rebuilt from the ground up on truth; the risk of being truly open with someone may be outweighed by having someone our protagonist can trust. ...Which is all to say: Let Dr. Mortum take our character home.
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Feb 22, 2020 20:21
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go with Dr Mortum
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Feb 22, 2020 21:03
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Go with Dr Mortum. Charlotte has been full of unwise decisions, especially as Jane. It just feels appropriate here, what with her feelings of empowerment as Jane as well as the fact that she IS victorious tonight.
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Feb 23, 2020 00:24
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Sjs00 posted:go with Dr Mortum This full speed ahead, only way forward is slingshot off the chaos
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Feb 23, 2020 03:39
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Have to admit, found this thread today, immediately went out and bought the thing. Had a lot of fun with it~! Very good writing, thanks for showing it to me!
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Feb 24, 2020 10:37
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I've been following this thread for a while now - it's clearly a labour of love, and even if I'm not really one for superhero stuff it's proven surprisingly gripping. I'm going to be the annoying lone dissenter and say let's go home by ourselves. We've managed to square the circle so far, but I suspect that the time is coming when our cosy relationship with the good doctor is going to bite us in the rear end hard. And when it does, I'd much rather it happen far, far away from our actual, presently defenceless body. The less she knows about us, the better. Of course I could be wrong and we'll continue to deftly run circles around her, but we shouldn't mistake good luck for an ironclad guarantee. We've already gotten multiple hints that Dr. Mortum is capable of (and likely knows) much more than she lets on. We're not the only ones capable of manipulation here.
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Feb 24, 2020 16:56
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Soup Inspector posted:
I'm voting to get the Doctor, thereby nullifying your vote entirely! *unhinged laughing for two minutes*
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Feb 24, 2020 17:03
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I got a bad feeling about going home with Dr Mortum, going to vote for home, alone even though it looks like it won't win.
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Feb 24, 2020 17:06
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We're getting close to the 48 hours, but the underdog poll option is also getting some play. I'll call an audible here and change to a twelve-hour warning just to give this a chance to work itself out. On another note: I'm glad people are enjoying the thread and, more importantly, the game. I don't normally go for text adventures myself, but there really is something gripping about this one.
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Feb 24, 2020 17:21
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There really ought to be a dedicated CYOA recommendations thread, most of the stuff on CoG does not call to me and there's a lot to sift through.
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Feb 24, 2020 18:19
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go home alone. I'm getting nervous about Dr. Mortum having some kind of kill switch on the armor she can active to "protect" Jane from her boss.
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Feb 24, 2020 18:23
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Home alone
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Feb 24, 2020 18:27
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Sha na na na na na dont' be shy you're psychic and can't fly you gotta get the girl This could end poorly but it's going to end poorly either way, might as well have fun on the ride down.
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Feb 24, 2020 18:56
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Home alone. See every time I brought up "getting too close to the mad scientist may bite us in the rear end" x1000.
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Feb 24, 2020 19:09
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Coffee [...] "Now, ma chérie, why don't we see about getting you out of here before there are questions to answer?" Dr. Mortum looks over at the door, as if she is expecting it to slam open at any moment. "If you wish, I could drive you home." No, that is too much of a risk. I will get home later on my own. > Yes, I will allow her to take me home. By a margin of one vote: We're doing this.--- "Thank you." You hesitate a little before continuing. "I would like that." This is a calculated risk you are taking, but the payoff could be worth it. "Or I could call you a cab," Dr. Mortum suggests, perhaps sensing your hesitation. "Are you backing out already?" You sit up a little straighter, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed with a grimace. Luckily, you still have your party clothes on; you wonder if that is Dr. Mortum's doing, or if there are simply so many patients to take care of that they left you for later, since you weren't seriously injured. "Not at all, ma chérie." The smile is widening. "I am at your service." "We'll see about that," you say with a smirk. "First, please give me a hand and find my shoes." This will be an interesting experience…. After all the fuss at the party, I'm almost surprised Charlotte-as-Jane doesn't comment on having to walk out of the hospital in her extra-high heels.--- You have to admit that it feels a bit odd to be taken care of like this. Normally you are the one pulling all the strings, but Dr. Mortum looks set to be the one in charge right now. The hospital is in turmoil; once you step out into the lobby you can smell the fear and uncertainty. Right now, you are glad that you are not a telepath. There are people waiting in the lobby: people trying to contact their relatives, reporters looking for a scoop, the shocked and lightly wounded not yet processed. There have been a lot of injuries tonight. You hug yourself a little as Dr. Mortum arranges for your release, looking over the shaken faces of the crowd. What will they remember of tonight? What will you? > I won. That is all that matters. I won't be a victim anymore—they will play that part now. Did I do enough to keep people safe? These folks weren't our enemies - but they weren't our allies, either. When capes fight, humans can get hurt. Everyone who lives in Los Diablos is here on purpose...right?--- You won. The fact that people have been hurt is inconsequential. In fact, looking around, you can't help but feel they deserve it. And for those who did not, too bad. Life doesn't care if you deserve what happens to you. You know that too well. It feels quite nice to see the world start to match the turmoil in your heart. --- Later The city is neon and black outside the car, the traffic slowly winding down for the night. Dr. Mortum doesn't talk much as she drives, keeping her eyes on the road. Now and then you glance over at her, the streetlights waking new highlights in her skin. It feels…nice. In an empty way. Today has been a completely new experience. You still get flashes from the fight now and then: remembered little moments of your victory. It feels more distant in this body though. Jane didn't fight—she just got knocked out. That feels…odd. You are having a hard time connecting your two lives right now, and the way they are diverging makes it difficult to just switch into the right mindset. Take this ride, for example. Charlotte would never let someone drive her home. Too much of a risk. Better to stay aloof, anonymous. And yet Jane is there to reach out to people. Is that what you are doing now? "Nice car you've got." The words surprise you as well, and it takes a moment for you to realize that it's your own voice. "Why the limo earlier?" It's something that's been bothering you; Dr. Mortum had a rented limo driving you to the party, so how did she get this car so fast? Did she steal it? You don't want to risk that kind of heat. "Because a limousine makes for a more impressive entrance, ma chérie." There's a white smile flashing in the dark, but she doesn't turn to look at you. "I had this car parked close by. You never know when you need a fast getaway." "I see." You can't stop the surprised laugh. Trust the good doctor to be prepared accordingly. "Looks like your instincts were right." "They usually are," she says, with no trace of false humility. "You need to trust them when you run the kind of business I do." "So, what do your instincts tell you about me, then?" You can't help the question, and you have to admit that you are curious. "That you are a deeply conflicted woman." There is a pause as she makes the turn, checking with you that she is going the right way. "And that while you are a very dangerous woman, it would also be an interesting prospect to get to know you better." "I'm not dangerous…." > "Conflicted? Me?" "Interesting, huh?" We're bringing Dr. Mortum very close to our real body. The more we can find out about her state of mind, the safer we'll be...--- "Conflicted?" you ask with a laugh. "Me? I think you've got a bit of wishful thinking going on there." "Perhaps." There's an amused smirk at the corner of her mouth. "It's just a feeling I get. That perhaps you feel a little bit trapped by fate." "I'm in control of my own destiny." You give her a pointed look that she ignores completely. "If you say so, ma chérie, if you say so." "Turn left here." You point towards a side street, glad this neighborhood is quiet as the grave at night. "Just drop me off anywhere you can find a parking spot." "No car? How do you manage to survive in this city?" Dr. Mortum shakes her head, deftly pulling into an open spot. "Survival is a thing I'm good at," you say with a shrug, not interested in going into detail. "I can imagine." The car rolls to a stop. "We're here. Go get some rest, ma chérie. You look like you need it." "I will." There's a small lump in your throat that you need to swallow. This is it. You have the option of setting what kind of future relationship you want to have with Dr. Mortum right now. You've already shown a great deal of trust in letting her know where you live, but what kind of trust is that? Do you see Dr. Mortum as someone you could become friends with, or do you enjoy the romantic tension? And if so, how far are you willing to go right now? Friendship is all I want from this, so I will say goodnight now. I will kiss her goodnight and ask about the next date. > I will invite her back to my room. I considered the middle option because the vote was close, but...realistically, I'm going to rig the next playthrough so the characters are all different. This is the only chance Jane and Dr. Mortum will ever have, and the people who voted "yes" really wanted to see this through. Here goes nothing.--- "Are you sure you don't want to come up for some…coffee?" The words get stuck halfway, but she seems to get your meaning. Still, there is a moment's pause as she looks you over, making the same kind of internal calculations of risk versus reward as you did earlier. You thought it would be a challenge to lay off the sugar in Jane's body, but it wasn't as hard as you thought. Coffee tastes better now somehow. "I would not say no to that offer," she says finally, then adds a smile to sweeten the delivery. "Good." You hide your nervousness behind a laugh. "Because my legs are still wobbly from the blast and there are a lot of stairs." "Are you sure that's the only reason they are wobbly?" "I walked right into that one, didn't I?" "You sure did. But I will give you a hand up as a peace offering." Dr. Mortum gets out of the car, offering you a hand as you step out as well. It's an oddly official gesture, as if she's a bit uncertain how to act around you now that the stakes are changing. --- "Right this way." You turn and pull her along, confidence building as you realize that no, this was not a part of her plans. You're both venturing into unknown territory here. "So," she starts, following you up the stairs. "I didn't expect to be allowed to see where you live just yet." "I'm sure you could have had me under surveillance already if you were curious." You idly wonder if she had; you wouldn't put it past her. "That is very true…." Dr. Mortum pauses as you stop to unlock your door. "…Had I considered you a threat." "So, did you?" You hold the door open with a teasing smile, inviting her into the lion's den. "You can't truly expect me to answer that." "At least not honestly, eh?" You gratefully step out of your shoes, suddenly realizing that you're still wearing your dirty finery. That gets a small laugh from you that she shares. "And how would you ever know?" There's a teasing wink before she steps into your apartment proper, looking around. "I'm glad we understand each other," you say as you follow, not worried about her finding anything suspicious. Jane's place is clean and innocent. "Paranoia can be a helpful trait," Dr. Mortum points out, and you almost nod in agreement. That is indeed how Charlotte views the world, but Jane is a different person…at least, it's starting to feel that way. She needs people to be useful. "Paranoia can be your downfall as well." You pause to look her straight in the eye. "People need allies." "So…" There is a pause, a little longer than needed. "Do you trust me then, ma chérie?" > "Yes. I wouldn't have brought you here otherwise." "Maybe. I am taking a risk here." "No, but that doesn't preclude having fun." At this point, we've taken the dive. Might as well do some flips before we hit the water.--- "Yes, I do. I wouldn't have brought you here otherwise." "I am grateful you did, but just remember what we do for a living, okay?" "This is not about the job," you lie. Or perhaps it isn't a lie. The lines are growing blurry here. "I will do my best not to break your trust, then." "I'll drink to that," you say smoothly, leading her towards the kitchen. "This looks like a nice place to live." Dr. Mortum follows you as you walk, looking around, though she is polite enough not to pry. Not that she would be able to learn much from the bookshelves anyway, kept carefully bland with some odd eclectic choices you've made sure to actually read. "Small," you admit, "but I like it." You gesture towards the small kitchen table you have, the simple but elegant chairs not having seen much use. You usually eat out. "Have a seat; don't mind getting things dirty." You are both still trailing dust, your clothes dirty and disheveled. "Thanks." She takes a seat, looking at the posters you've hung on the wall, carefully curated to reflect the image of Jane. "I wouldn't have pictured you living like this." "Why?" You busy yourself making coffee; the machine is old-fashioned but it still works. "Too ordinary. And you are anything but." That comment tears a laugh from you. "Being that smooth can be dangerous." You leave the coffee to brew, turning around to face Dr. Mortum with a sly smile on your face. "Maybe I am dangerous," she counters with a sly smile of her own. You know that she is. And yet you invited her up here, to your private sanctuary. How rare is that? I have had other visitors, though they were just acquaintances. It's not the first time I've had some fun with Jane. > It's the first time I've brought someone else here. Now this was a concession to the close vote. If the thread is our inner world, a 6-5 vote suggests we were conflicted about this - and that suggests we're not used to this.--- You've thought about bringing other people here, but you had always backed out at the last minute. There never was any reason to get close to someone before, and it took a lot of deliberation before you decided that Dr. Mortum was worth the risk. "Are you alright, ma chérie?" Dr. Mortum has raised her voice slightly, and you realize that you've probably been quiet just a little too long. "I am." You rub your head a little. "Just a little overwhelmed still. It's hard to digest everything that's happened tonight." That is true; right now, only the dusty clothes are telling you that the events were not a dream. "If you're too tired, just let me know and I'll leave you alone for the night." "I'd rather not be alone right now." You don't realize how vulnerable you sound until you see the look on Dr. Mortum's face. It's a mixture of concern and confusion that makes you wonder if this is the moment where she realizes that maybe she cares a bit too much about Jane. It's a bit harder to tell, not being a telepath and all, but you don't get the feeling that this is faked. It looked too much like something slipping out, something that maybe she'd rather keep hidden behind her controlled facade. And if this is becoming something more than just a bit of fun and games…how do you feel about that? I know it's risky, but I admit I could really use a friend right now. Good—it makes her easier to manipulate. > Nervous, because I might be feeling the same way. Yes voters generally offered no scheming reasons for their say-so. That makes it feel like we just want the relationship for its own sake. Risky business, but Charlotte isn't a machine.--- "I mean…" you look down a little shyly, trying to find the right words. "I invited you here for a reason. I want you here." Hell, you can't help the fact that your cheeks are starting to heat up. Are you blushing? Will she notice? "Then I will trust you to tell me otherwise." Dr. Mortum relaxes slightly, leaning back in the chair. You almost breathe a sigh of relief; at least you didn't say something completely stupid. "I do confess that I sometimes have a hard time reading people's intentions—especially yours, ma chérie." "I can't believe that." You can't help but smile because the notion of Dr. Mortum not being able to read people is a bit ridiculous. Then again, the way she reacted when she thought you had ties to the Special Directive is telling. She has been betrayed before. "My secret is out." She chuckles a little. "I generally stick to business dealings. A personal life is not something I have bothered with for a while." "I know what you mean there." Sometimes you wish that you'd made different choices in life. That you could have been satisfied with living out this quiet charade, putting on the mask and hoping it would stick this time. But you know that wouldn't work. It didn't last time, and the pain of having something you love torn away is worse than never having it in the first place. That is why this is so dangerous. The more of yourself you invest, the worse it will feel to lose it. And lose it you will…but maybe, just maybe, it will have been worth it this time. That's what you're betting on—time to put your money where your mouth is. Or rather, the other way around. "Luckily, we—" Dr. Mortum's words are interrupted as you lean in and place a light, nervous kiss on her lips, tilting her head back a little as you lean forward. You have to admit you're slightly terrified, your heart racing a mile a minute. This is the part you only know about from movies and magazines, not that you would ever admit it. But you figure that if you nudge a little now and then, Dr. Mortum will know what to do. All you have to do is to keep up. Echoing. That's a technique you know well, analyzing your opponents' moves and adapting them for yourself. You just didn't think you'd be using it like this. You hold the kiss for just a moment longer, then you pull back with a smile which goes wider as you can see the good doctor visibly trying to collect herself. "Well, well," she starts, swallowing hard. "And here I thought we were having coffee." > "Maybe I am." "It's brewing right now." "I'd rather have you." --- You can't stop the small chuckle as you give her a teasing wink. "Maybe I am." There's a moment's pause as Dr. Mortum nearly face-palms, groaning a little as she shakes her head. "I can't believe you just made that joke." "Offended?" you ask cautiously. It is obvious that you have crossed some boundary here that you weren't aware of. "I don't normally appreciate being compared to foodstuffs…." The sigh is a tired one. "At least it wasn't chocolate." Whoa. I did not see that coming; I read the line as a coy "maybe I'm just going to have some actual coffee and I was leading you on". And it sounds like that's what Charlotte had in mind, too. Is this foot-in-mouth moment race-specific, paying off a choice from the very start of the game?"I was just making a joke," you explain. "On account of us waiting on the coffee, and me wanting to have a taste of you." "Any joke you need to explain is a bad one, ma chérie. Just friendly advice." "I'm sorry." You hesitate a moment. "Have I ruined the mood?" "Well, you can always try to make it up to me." The slow smile tells you that no, despite her annoyance, you have not. At least not completely. Maybe the coffee can wait. --- The next update will be short, and will only contain the upcoming sex scene. I'm trying to stay diligent about flagging potentially-triggering scenes, especially since we've had some out-of-character conversations in this thread about personal trauma. If you like, you can use the skip link here, which will jump straight to the next-next update - thus skipping both the sex scene and any discussion thereof. Sorites fucked around with this message at 05:04 on Feb 29, 2020 |
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Feb 25, 2020 06:38
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This song just happened to come up in my phone and I find it suitable: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sESXeKAZ-Q4 By one David Bowie, who I'm told was no stranger to the strangeness of love.
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Feb 25, 2020 09:11
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Huh, for some reason I thought that Jane's place was just a cupboard. Which would have made inviting people over awkward.
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Feb 25, 2020 09:38
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Synthbuttrange posted:Huh, for some reason I thought that Jane's place was just a cupboard. If Jane slept standing up in a broom closet I would have forced us to take Dr. Mortum there by fiat.
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Feb 25, 2020 17:05
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Sex Scene --- This is exactly what the title says. It's tasteful and fades to black at the expected time, so it's really more of a movie-style "they're about to have sex" scene. Still, for some people that's the most difficult part. If you'd like to skip this scene, click here to jump to the next update.For those who think this is overly cautious on my part: You need to get out more, and also the full update will come out in about twelve hours when it normally would. Cope. --- Just another kiss first…. It's a nice smell. The coffee. Dr. Mortum. Both. She is on her feet now, arms around you, kissing deeply. It's not exactly dancing, as there is no music playing, but there is a certain rhythm in the way you move. The way you touch. Everything feels electric. Warm. Sharp. Fragile. You never really touch people, not if you don't have to, and certainly not this much, this close. Even other interactions you've had were with your barriers up, with a certain cautious hesitance to lose yourself. You can't keep that distance now, can't risk her starting to question whether you really wanted this or whether you were just manipulating her. Will you dare to fall head over heels down into this…whatever it is? It's frightening. It's exhilarating. It's only a question of how far will you go. I will keep my clothes on. As far as I can… --- The kiss deepens, gets more intense, her hands sliding down your back. Hell, you're actually doing this, aren't you? Too close. Too risky. And you won't stop. There are so many reasons your heart is racing right now that you have lost count. "Not here," you manage to get out between kisses. "I have a bedroom." "Good," Dr. Mortum says, smiling a little as she strokes your cheek, a strange nervousness in the way she touches you. "Why don't you show me?" "It's not that big a place," you joke, swallowing hard as you grab her hand, pulling her along. "I doubt you'd get lost." "If you are trying to prompt me to make a joke, I'm sorry, ma chérie." There's a soft laugh as Dr. Mortum follows. "Right now I have a hard enough time keeping my head straight." "Shame on you for giving me such an opportunity for a bad joke," you tease. "Lucky for you, I've got other things on my mind." "I would be relieved if I weren't also a bit worried," she jokes with a smile. "Dragging me off to your lair…" "Did you think I was going to go easy on you?" You cross the threshold to your minimalist bedroom. It's mostly bed and little else, as it's important to have a good mattress when you spend as much time in it as Jane does. > I will pull Dr. Mortum down on the bed. I wait until she takes the initiative. I'll push her down and get on top. 'Topping from the bottom' seems very Jane; she's never the person with the actual power, and always seems to get her way.--- "Not really. You certainly have not made my life easier in any way, shape, or form so far," she says, winking at you. "More interesting, however—" You don't wait until she's finished before you sink down on the bed, pulling Dr. Mortum with you. It feels so strange to have someone else's body covering your own, pressing you down into the mattress. Strange…and not the only thing that is strange. You're lucky that Jane is a comfortable port in this emotional storm; there are small differences in the way she moves, the way she reacts…but at heart, she is a woman just as you are, and you know these sensations well. The strangeness comes from the fact that you are this close to another human being. That you are tasting someone's lips, that you can feel the hint of her skin through the clothes. That you can slide your hands under those clothes. Touch her skin. Get touched in return. You never thought you would get to do this, and now that it is happening, you find yourself drowning in sheer sensation. You really hope that this is not a bad idea, but… It is too late now. You can't stop. You don't want to stop. The 'next page' button here literally says "Fade to Black".--- The actual update comes out in twelve hours; I literally just cordoned this part off so it would be skippable. Sorites fucked around with this message at 05:03 on Feb 29, 2020 |
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Feb 28, 2020 17:15
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Aftermath You have no idea what time it is, except that it is late. Or possibly early. Ridiculously so. The drowsiness is slowly overtaking you, wrapping your sticky body in a bone-deep relaxation. When was the last time you were this relaxed? At all? "So…" Dr. Mortum starts, just a quiet whisper against your neck. "…How does this change things?" "Do things have to change?" You leisurely run a finger over her skin. Strange how familiar it feels. You're entitled to run your hands over her at will now, to trace the scars, if not quite ask where they came from. "Well…" You let out a soft sigh, shifting a little against her. "I, for one, am more relaxed now." "True." The laugh tickles a little. "The same goes for me. And your boss?" "I don't care if they are relaxed." "You know what I mean." She raises her head a little, looking directly at you. "I do." You force yourself to get your head back in the game. "And the truth is that I don't know yet." "Look…" You find yourself hesitating, wondering what you will say to end this night. You need to get back in your proper body, you need to do so many things—but you need to set the tone for what you want this to be first. What spin will you put on this? > "This is a job, but you are not." "I'm going to quit soon." "I can't tell you the entire story yet, but soon." "Nothing has changed; we're just having fun while we can." This seems like the safest option. The others all involve specific, breakable promises which could set up fights later on.--- "Look," you start, still running your fingers over her chest. There are faint scars there that intrigue you; it almost looks like she… "This might be a job for me, but you are not." "I'm happy to hear that." There's a slight hesitation there, and you are not sure whether that's because of your hand or your words. "I'm serious. If you're thinking I'm doing this because of my job, consider the fact that I didn't even kiss you until the deal was done." "That's true, ma chérie." You can hear in the way her voice lightens that she can see the reason in that. "That being said…" You don't even need to fake a yawn; you can feel sleep threatening to overtake you already. "I take it that's my clue to leave?" "I hope you're not offended." You manage to pull off a pair of rather impressive puppy-dog eyes. "No, I really should be going back. I need a shower…and some clothes." "And here I thought you were going back to analyze the footage and see how your work performed." You wink a little, hoping that you have read her right. "You know me far too well, ma chérie." Dr. Mortum chuckles a little as she climbs out of bed and starts pulling on her dusty clothes. "I am indeed quite curious." "Do let me know," you tease, quite openly watching her get dressed. "I am going to go to sleep and not wake up for a week." Honestly, you feel like that wouldn't be a bad idea. --- When you next wake up, you are alone. The events of last night feel more and more like a dream. Did you really fight the Rangers on live television? Did you really sleep with Dr. Mortum? Both of them feel like the worst sort of delusions. For a moment, you almost have a panic attack, picturing yourself back at the Farm. But this is real. Every single thing. The cold floor under your bare feet. The bite of the hot water as you step into the shower. It's real, and it is hot, steamy, and just pure bliss against your skin. No. Not your skin. Your puppet's. Still, she's worth it; yesterday was a big day, and she performed splendidly. When you finally step out, the mirror has fogged over, and you have to wipe it clean to see Jane's smiling face staring back at you. Her brown eyes look happy. You're not sure how that makes you feel. I don't regret anything that happened with Dr. Mortum. > It was fun, but it was also a big risk. Hell, what did I do, bringing her here of all places? We should probably take measures. Either Jane or Charlotte should move soon, if the opportunity arises.--- You never had the urge to climb into bed with someone before. And now that you have done so, the thought of the repercussions makes you nervous. It was fun, sure, and you're fairly certain you were doing it safely. Should things have changed more? Should you have felt differently? What did Dr. Mortum feel? You don't know, and it's the lack of knowledge that has your stomach filled with butterflies. Still…doing it again might not be the worst idea. Bringing emotions into this business arrangement is a risk. You know that. Last night, it felt like a calculated one. But right now, you are starting to wonder. Were you thinking clearly? And if not, how can you trust yourself to keep your head clear next time you meet? Looking deep into your own eyes, you promise yourself to never forget caution, even when you're busy having fun. But that doesn't matter right now, does it? Just let it go for the moment, and focus on what is really important here: how you did last night. Now, who do you want to watch the news as? Jane or Charlotte? Watch the news as Jane. > Watch the news as Charlotte. This will probably be more comfortable; Jane's hurting worse than our real body. Hell, she might have been even without the blast, just from the shoes alone; we cleaned up in those fights. --- This is too important; this is what you have worked towards for the last few years. You should be the one to reap the rewards in person. Jane is a puppet, and it wouldn't feel right to watch this filtered through her eyes. Besides, it's time to wake up, now that your body has rested enough. So with that decision made, you walk back into the bedroom, leaving Jane to get some rest. It feels a little weird that not too long ago, you weren't alone in this bed. There's still a different scent to it, making you feel almost vulnerable as you pull up the covers and try to relax enough to let go. Life is changing in more ways than one. Slipping… Dark… --- The way back to your own body is always the easier path. As soon as you let Jane go, you can feel yourself stirring. The nausea grips you hard, but this time you manage to swallow down the bile before you throw up. It's never as abrupt a transition from Jane; she feels almost like yourself. You had been planning to go back to your place. You really had. But it's safer to hole up here for a few days. And after all, your equipment is right here. Just in case something happens. It takes you a few minutes to shake the metaphorical cobwebs off your body, get yourself a soda, and slap yourself alert. A chocolate bar gives you some much-needed energy, and then it is time to log in and see what is going on in the world. What it is saying about you. Flipping through the news sites, you soon find one of the top live television feeds. That's the best way to get some nice moving footage, and you are curious to see how you look on camera. It's…unreal. That's the first thought that comes to mind. Is that really you? You had no idea you would look so spooky on camera, wrapped in smoke and shadows. Now and then the camera glints off your helmet, revealing nothing but reflected light. It's even better than your old Sidestep suit was, melding with the background until you move—and even then, you seem to shift between locations without effort. It's hard to keep track of you with the camera, and it adds an odd uncertainty to the footage. Just exactly what were they capturing? And just as you had thought, the armor makes it almost impossible to guess your gender under the helmet. Good. That means the field will stay open to a lot of speculation. Many of the scenes make you chuckle as you watch, remembering the sweetness of the fights. You will go over them in detail later to pinpoint exactly what went right…and what went wrong. You are very pleased to see the scenes from the museum though—the rich people running in panic, crying about their lost wealth. They are upset because you dared to rob a charity, as if the amount of money you got away with is somehow worth more than people's lives. You shouldn't be surprised. Herald, however—Herald is…oh hell, how the cameras love Herald. You can see it now: he really has a charisma that goes right through the screen. But in this case, that only means you are all the more impressive. You're the shadow to his light, the villain taking him apart at the seams. Watching the fight, you can't help tensing up on the edge of your seat. This is what you wanted when you planned the suit: getting the ability to not just walk alongside the heroes of this city, but to beat them. If only Ortega hadn't shown up so quickly, you could have made an example of him. But trust Charge to ruin your fun. Charge. It feels odd to think of Ortega in his other identity, but hearing the reporters commentate your fight makes it feel more real. It also makes you smile when they speculate whether he is starting to slow down; it has been some time since he lost a fight this badly. In comparison, there's not much footage of you fighting Lady Argent. That being said, what footage there is makes you laugh out loud. She's really taken for a ride there, and the cameras are loving every single moment of it Everything really went according to plan. You went in there and annihilated them, and what could they do to you? Leave you with some sore muscles and armor that needs maintenance. You wish that Steel had been there, so you could have dealt with them all…. Letting the television drone on in its background tab, you open up a few more tabs to flick through the newspapers. You want to see their take on your night; it is always more interesting in text, since that adds yet another layer of interpretation. The Confidential is the biggest newspaper in town, so whatever headline they have will set the tone for how people see you. You still remember how furious Steel was with them for daring to write negative articles about the Rangers, but they've always had a reputation for not following the lead of either the government or the companies. Of course, your view on the matter is that their so-called independence is what sells them papers. It wouldn't have to be more than skin-deep to do that. Nobody is independent in this town. Nobody. Except you, that is. Chuckling a little to yourself, you look down at the screen, seeing what they have made of tonight's events. "The Phantom of the Gala!" The headline screams at you in loud black letters, the image below showing you facing off against Ortega. You're just a menacing shadow lit from behind, Ortega's arc of electricity framing the shot perfectly. In the text below, some words in particular catches your attention; "Who is Entropy?" Good, at least they got your name right. It doesn't really matter what they call you because if you dislike it, you can always make them change it later. You suppose that is another thing you have to think about from now on, how to handle the press. Among so many other things. Still, that is a question for another day. You've got your whole future ahead of you. --- Epilogue A familiar underground laboratory, bathed in the pale light of fluorescent screens. Dr. Mortum is seated behind her desk. Jane casually lounges at its edge, eying her closely. "I didn't think I would see you again this soon." Dr. Mortum looks pleased by the surprise, leaning back in her chair. "My boss still has plans. Grand plans." She leans forward, placing a wad of money on the desk. "And they are very happy with the way the armor performed." "I'm quite pleased myself." Dr. Mortum picks up the money, leafing through the wad before putting it down. "But you know the rules. I only build things that interest me." "Does it count if the person interests you?" Jane's smile is soft and teasing. "Sadly, ma chérie, I don't mix business and pleasure." "That is probably a wise choice. Maybe one I should listen to." "Maybe you should." She grimaces a little, looking between her and the money. "It would be the perfect time to quit." "I've already asked for a raise." Jane's voice is steady, as is her hand when she picks the money up. "I'll stick around for a while longer." "As long as you're sure." There is a pause as she reaches out, placing her hand over Jane's. It remains there for a moment before both withdraw, looking embarrassed. "I can't back out now. I'm serious." Jane is looking away, anywhere but at Dr. Mortum. "Maybe later." "There's not always a later." "Did you wait too long? Is that where you…" She hesitates, gesturing towards Dr. Mortum's chest. "I saw the scars." "Plastic surgery can only do so much, but no." The chuckle is soft enough to be imagined. "They are not scars of regret. Of a new life, perhaps." "Birth is always painful." Jane gets to her feet, not bothering to hide her smile. "So is death, ma chérie." "As long as it's not mine, I don't care." The words seem to hang in the air, long after she has left…. --- Joes Bar Late one evening, as smoke and music wrap around the room like cobwebs. Bo is sitting at the bar, drink in hand, Jane leaning against the stained surface next to him. "Have you ever thought about getting more permanent employment?" Jane steals a few peanuts, popping them into her mouth. "You mean like you?" Bo sips his drink, but doesn't turn to look. "I mean exactly like me." Jane leans in a little closer, elbowing Bo. "It could be fun." "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" This time Bo turns around, looking straight at the woman next to him. "My boss is in the market for a driver. Someone who knows how to get out of tight spots and can keep their mouth shut. Permanent retainer." "Entropy?" "Yeah." Jane sips her drink, not taking her eyes off Bo. "That's the one." "The one who robbed the museum?" There's a low whistle of admiration as Bo raises his drink in a silent toast. "Must have got away with a fortune." "I know I got a pay raise," Jane admits with a wink. "Then you should be paying for my drinks." The words are a joke, but Jane doesn't bat an eye. "Join me," she counters, "and pay for them yourself." "You know what?" Bo looks down at his drink, keeping his silence for a long, thoughtful moment. "I think I will." "Then I think I'll pay for this round." Jane waves to the bartender as Bo empties his drink with a laugh. It looks like it's going to be a long night. --- The Rangers' Headquarters The cafeteria is small and cozy, bringing a touch of home to the businesslike surroundings. Two cups of coffee sit on the table, but only one has been drunk from. "Are you sure you're fit for active duty?" Ortega sips his coffee, scrutinizing the man in front of him. Herald doesn't look up; he keeps staring at his coffee. "I am." There's a brief pause as he flexes his arm. "Still a bit sore, but that will pass." "I wasn't talking about your body," Ortega says, wincing a little in sympathy. "Oh." Herald looks up in surprise, an embarrassed flush on his cheeks. "I need you to keep a cool head. Can you promise me that?" "I can." Herald straightens his back, gripping the mug in both hands. "I've learned my lesson." "For all our sakes…I hope so." --- The television is large enough to cover half a wall. Flashes of light and color dispel the dim gloom as the newsreel plays, pauses, then plays again. Lady Argent stands in front of the screen, immobile, arms crossed, never taking her eyes off the action. A gesture freezes the screen mid-blow, catching Entropy in the act of landing a blow on a bruised Ortega. She tilts her head and the scene rewinds slightly, then resumes again. The battle plays on, but she turns away, walking through the rhythm of blows as if she has committed every step to memory. Her claws twitch a little as she moves, following the echo of her ghostly opponent. She looks up at the screen as her own silvery form enters the fray, and a deep frown mars her otherwise perfect brow. "Next time, cheater…." Once more, the footage rewinds. Once more, she stares at the screen with rapt attention. --- The underground hangar smells of oil and metal, sounds echoing sharply between the reinforced walls. In the center of the room, Marshal Steel's armor stands dormant. Steel himself is seated cross-legged on the floor in front of a laptop. Thin cables connect it to the processing unit in the armor, the diagnostic program running quietly as he keeps an eye on it. Next to him, Ortega is lying on his back, watching the slowly rotating fans with an unreadable expression on his face. "I don't think you can cram much more into that system, Wei. You can't make it do everything you want." "We won't know until we try." Steel doesn't turn away from the screen. "You should let the crew handle that." "They'll only tell me no. I know her best." Finally satisfied that things are running smoothly, he shifts around, looking at Ortega. "What?" He tilts his head slightly, looking over at Steel. "You got that look again." "How are you functioning?" The question is blunt and to the point. "Systems-wise I'm already up and running." Ortega raises an arm, flexing his hand. "My body has a while to go yet. I don't heal as fast as I used to." "Neither of us do." Steel frowns a little, scratching at the edge where flesh meets cyborg leg. Unlike Ortega, there's no cosmetic overlay; his mechanical parts are revealed by the shorts he's wearing. "Do you regret it?" "What? Fighting in a suit?" Ortega's laugh is a little too quick in coming. "Not retiring when you had the chance." "Not really fond of the kind of debt that would land me in." There's a sigh as he grudgingly maneuvers himself into a seated position. "You've seen my files. Costs keep racking up." "They'll be wiped clean once we reach the end of our service." "You mean usefulness." The words are sharp enough to provoke a sigh from Steel. "You know what I mean." He casts a glance towards the laptop, which keeps running quietly. "It's not that different from the army." "You enlisted." Ortega flexes his hand, running his thumb over the rim of the conductors embedded in his palm. "I never asked to be made into what amounts to an indentured servant." "You could have settled for being ordinary." "I like walking." "You like the action," Steel snaps back. "Admit it." "Of course I do." Ortega looks down, the frown growing deeper. "It's just…" "What?" "A few years back, I could have beaten them." "Entropy?" Steel stays focused on his laptop. "Yes," Ortega admits. "I let them catch me off guard." "A few years back you would have had a proper team backing you." "We'll get this one running smoother." A deep sigh. "Maybe this is what they need to remind them that we need to work together." "And Ricardo? One more thing." Steel turns his head again, giving Ortega a stern look. "What?" "We'll get them. You know we will." "The Rangers always get their man," Ortega echoes, sinking back on the floor. --- The music is loud enough to drown out all but the most intimate of conversations, the shadows lapping around the private room. On a red leather couch sits a tall, middle-aged Asian woman clad in an immaculate rust-colored suit. Her hair is short and soft, ears pierced by dozens of rings of various designs. "An interesting report." Her voice is a surprisingly low, gravelly rumble. "And what are your orders?" The young woman in front of her stands at attention, hands behind her back. "Observe, for now. Let's see if they last more than a few months before we make a decision." "As you wish, boss." She bows deeply, then exits back to the club, closing the door behind her. In the darkness of the room, Hollow Ground leans back against the couch, putting her feet up on the table. "Entropy, huh? Let's see what kind of games you like to play." --- This far up, Los Diablos stretches out beneath you like a neon blanket, the city lights drenching the gentle shine of the stars overhead. The city. Your city. You flex your hand, feeling the armor boot up around you, wrapping you in a cocoon of invincibility. You almost feel drunk—a whole world of possibilities surrounds you, and only you can decide what you do next. What path you will take. Who you will become. Nothing can stop you. Nothing. --- A drab office. No windows. The knock on the door is repeated twice before the door opens, the person outside not waiting for a reply from the woman behind the desk. "Excuse me, ma'am." The man who enters is the very definition of a nondescript office worker. "I was going through last month's reports, and I think we might have a sighting. One of the cuckoos." "Confirmed?" The woman behind the desk does not bother to look up from her paperwork. "No," the man admits. "But I would like to get permission to escalate the issue." "Not yet. Make sure to confirm before we bother notifying the director. We had enough wild goose chases last year." "Yes, ma'am! Will do." The man salutes, then turns around on the spot, exiting the room. The woman sighs a little, shaking her head, before returning to her paperwork. Just another day at the Farm. --- That's all, folks! At least, for the first playthrough. We've done exceptionally well. Not perfect, but better than my average 'solo' (non vote-governed) runs by far. Congratulations! I'm going to take a bit of a hiatus from updates, both to allow a gap between Charlotte's story and the next and to allow time for fulsome discussion. What do people make of the game, and of Charlotte's adventure? Also: How would you like to see the next playthrough handled? This isn't a vote, just a brainstorming session. I can't decide whether to simply maximize difference between the next run and the one we just played, leave things to the vote again, or play a more planned-out concept character (like Arist's 'Botchcop'). Thoughts?
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Feb 29, 2020 05:03
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Thanks for the playthrough! Curious how the Farm ties into all this!
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Mar 1, 2020 01:01
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Gah. Lady Argent proving villains should always make sure the hero is dead, never trusting them to die otherwise. For another playthrough I've a couple points of interest to pick/mix: -Didn't see all that much of Bo. Turned out pretty well for them, but they didn't much screentime either. -Good ol Steel. We probably couldn't win, but I am curious if you can get into a fight with him if you do well enough clobbering heroes. -Somewhat tying into the above, how much of a ham can we be? Full villainous monologues, recognizing tropes
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Mar 1, 2020 01:33
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We played almost 100% for safety and effectiveness. There's tons of room for drama-llama showiness, or a more even mix of flash and substance.
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Mar 1, 2020 02:32
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I think the problem with making sure Lady Argent is dead, so to speak, is that there's serious doubt that we could even kill her. The best I could think of is to rip her mind apart, since in this timeline we kind of pushed her unconscious into flowing water and all. I feel bad for Dr Mortus, because her now-girlfriend had a zero percent chance of quitting this incredibly dangerous job. It's interesting as well that she outright refuses follow-up work, so now maintenance is an issue we'd have to overcome in the next issues. Personally, I've seen quite a few CYOA LPs on the forum, and I like your approach to it. Establishing each character's personality instead of individually voting on every little thing does make things fast. I'd be interested in an opposite run next time, maybe with a couple of votes if the action isn't covered in 'opposite'.
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Mar 1, 2020 04:54
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thanks for running this LP! it was fun to see everyone's reactions if you wanted to do another run, some sort of opposite run makes sense
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Mar 9, 2020 21:13
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AriadneThread posted:thanks for running this LP! it was fun to see everyone's reactions  this, thanks OP!
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Mar 9, 2020 22:16
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