As in my earlier actual play reports, small green text indicates out of character talk, mechanics and other game aspects outside of the fiction.
Our main characters are:
- Gator (the Gunlugger) is an assassin and part-time bodyguard who wears customized scrounged armor made from Kevlar and ceramic inserts. Camouflaged for the jungle, his face was ruined in a fight with an alligator. His eyes are always sizing things up and his brutal life has left his body a hard sheet of muscle. He runs a a gang of mercenaries and is recovering from being blown up.
- Jarhead (the Savvyhead) is a thin African-American man with a short goatee, long dreads, and clothes covered in pockets and gear. Travelling around in an old news van, he repairs items for a living. He is investigating a device that can bend space and time. He has also obtained employees in the form of a young woman Allison and her brother Waters as well as a little girl named Memo.
- November Orleans (the Skinner) is descended from a family which left New Orleans before it sank. She is a beautiful woman of mixed heritage with dark eyes and skin, a sweet face and lush body. She dresses herself in a mix of scavenged clothing that somehow works together and wears a necklace made from rows of antique coins which jingle and shine as she moves. Her main profession is as a dancer, especially belly dancing, but she has a sideline business in cooking and animal training. Oh and now she works for the "gods".
- Violet Jefferson (the Touchstone) is descended by survivalists and her clothing and gear reflects her origins. Plain looking but fit, she carries a pocket copy of the Federalist papers and founding documents of the United States of America, an idea she hopes to revive. Her followers are demanding her help to liberate Miami from a tyrant.
Betrayal, Part II
A few minutes later Violet arrives at scene of utter chaos. Cultist swarm the smoke-filled chambers, searching for escaping prisoners. Violet focuses on the shattered wall.Violet reads a sitch and gets a 10.
”What should I be on the lookout for?” she asks.
”There are too many cultists here trying to catch White’s men. Other places are undefended.”
”Who is in control here?”
”Whoever set the bombs that blew out the wall.”
”What’s my enemy’s true position?”
Her keen eyes spot grenade pins scattered several yards away. Violet picks one up, noticing a translucent thread hanging from it. This was set off remotely, she thinks scanning the too thickly crowded halls. It was a distraction.
Violet follows the thread back to one of the entrances to the lower levels. She quickly dons a mask and heads down after the culprit.
This is a little out-of-order in how we played it but fits the in-game chronological order better.
Once deep in the tunnels Violet lets her eyes search the darkness, allowing her mind to touch the psychic maelstrom and the truth that lies beyond it.
Violet opens her brain and gets an 11. Since she rolls hard she marks experience and advances. She chooses to advance All of her basic moves.
I ask her, “once you achieve victory, do you intend to let anyone to run for office? Or are some people ineligible?”
We discuss the possibility and she falls somewhat on the side of limiting it to citizens of Miami. Ultimately however it will come out of the constitution the citizens create.
Under the glow of the sparse lighting she makes out shallow footprints, perhaps of teen or woman. She also feels a static in the air, a charge as if someone or something is interfering with her. Whoever the culprit is, they are working for something far older, far hungrier. Minds that belong to the enemy!
Since she knows her enemy.
The flickering tube of light barely illuminates the shallow grooves in the chamber’s dirt floor. November calms her mind and sharpens her knives. She glances down the hall.
Something looms in the dark. Flicker.
Cougar stands beneath the lamp, a meaty hand wrapped around a shower head. Bits of tile hang loosely from one end. The titan’s visage remains hidden beneath a mask of bone and steel.
November lets her approach, then leans in for a kiss once she enters the circle. “Hold still baby,” she says softly.
November uses a hold from Hypnotize to keep Cougar from attacking.
November’s knife slices up and out quickly. As Cougar gurgles, her thick blood spills into the channels on the floor.
November deals 3-harm (2-harm for the knives +1 for being merciless). Cougar though has 4-health and survives for now.
Violet meanwhile acts under fire to find “the bomber” and gets a 12! Since it is advanced, I let her slip in unseen. She marks experience.
As the giantess slides to her knees, Violet slips up to the entrance of the chamber, unseen by all. As Cougar’s bulk descends, the survivalist recognizes November’s face in the inconstant light. The beautiful woman chants some strange foreign tongue as she readies her blade for a second strike.
Actually it is in French but Gator comments, “you don’t know French and you remember something about America hating France.”
Violet debates warning November to stop but chooses to fire first. “I know my enemy, I know what’s out there and I know why she is doing this,” she declares.
Someone suggests that she shoot to maim.
”She would not appreciate that,” Jarhead comments.
”I don’t appreciate her killing my source of info,” Violet says. “I know what she can do and I know what she’s done. I shoot to kill. She’s betrayed us.”
Violet stands horrified at what her friend has become, a tool for what lurks in the maelstrom. She takes a deep breath, brings up her rifle, and fires.
I choose to have her roll seize by force, November rolls to hinder and gets a hard hit. The -2 reduces Violet’s 13 (!) to an 11. She chooses to inflict terrible harm, take definite hold, and suffer little harm. She also marks experience.
Violet deals 2-harm + 1 for terrible harm -2 for November’s armor (recently acquired by the playbook change and poorly described). Also she knocks the dancer’s knife away.
November uses her 3-harm ap shotgun adds 1 for merciless and subtracts 1 for little harm. So Violet takes 3 harm from a return blast to the face. She goes from 6 o’clock to 11 o’clock!
November stipulates, “I don’t know who shot me, I just reacted.”
I feel like perhaps I might have let Violet have a free shot (likely for no or little harm) instead. Or an option to bypass November’s armor. Or perhaps I did not give her a strong enough definite hold. Oh well.
We then do a harm move for both characters. November misses her roll and is fine. Violet gets a hard hit. I choose to knock her out. For her own good.
The blast clips November sending her stumbling back. One numb hand lets go of her knife, while the other instinctively grabs her shotgun and returns fire. In the roar of gunfire, Cougar shakes off her trance and scrambles for the exit. A weak hand grabs for the giant’s heel before November shouts, ““Freeze Cougar!”
The fluorescent flickers, revealing Violet’s unconscious form lying beside the giant. The blast tore a hole in her friend’s face, narrowingly avoiding her left eye. Violet pants and quivers unconsciously.
November rolls servant of the gods but fails.
”If I survive I think I’ll find I have more in common with the Militia than I thought,” Violet comments darkly.
”You might not be surviving this,” November says.
November offers up a quick prayer to the gods. “Please guide me, my masters.”
A cold chill runs down her back as the voices whisper, “finish what you started, leave the other one here.”
November pulls the knife across Cougar’s throat. She twitches and collapses, her blood channeled into an elaborate pattern in the ground.
As the dancer tidies up, she takes a long look at Violet. She pulls the tall woman’s body to the center of the circle. November puts the bloody knife in Violet’s hand and traces a strange pattern across her face.
She considers the bullet wound. November finds a rock and covers it in blood. She drops it between Cougar and Violet. It is a weak story but it will do.
Finally, the dancer sneaks back to surface, using the sewers to emerge outside the arena. An hour of walking later and she mingles with the crowds of the Music Bowl. Quietly she hopes her smile hides her guilt from the crowd and the gods. They, at least, must be pleased.
Now we jump to Jarhead.
Jarhead blinks.
A blurry Allison appears overhead. “You are awake. How much is two plus two?”
He blinks again and sits up. "I have no time for inane questions."
The fair-haired woman protests, “I need to make sure you haven’t suffered any damage to your head. Other than the hole. Can you still do math?”
Jarhead sighs. "Two plus two is four, four plus four is eight, five times four is twenty. Lets go!"
She gets in front of him as he shifts off the bed. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Three,” he says curtly.
“Okay, I guess he’s okay.” Allison turns to her brother. “What do you think Waters?”
“He seems alright,” the short boy says.
“Good.” Allison turns back to Jarhead. “The nurse, the creepy one, said they were going to bring A.T. in here in a moment.” Jarhead nods. “Waters has a bed ready for him.”
“The one with the straps, right?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“Okay perfect. I trained you well. How long have I been out?”
“An hour,” she says with a slight smile.
“That’s all? Is everything else setup?”
“We have the IV ready and the monitor,” Water says quickly.
“What about the box?” Jarhead asks.
“We put that in the place,” he says furrowing his brow.
“Good. No more talking about it.”
Allison speaks up. “I still haven’t seen Memo.”
“Wasn’t she in the van?” the inventor asks.
“No and I had Waters look for her everywhere.”
“Where is Memo?” he mutters. “Where is Violet?”
The young woman explains, “there was a jail break and some of White’s people got away. Violet went that way. I haven’t seen her since.”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” he says.
The doors burst open as A.T. is wheeled in. Jarhead takes a close look at his wounds, propping open his eyes and checking the readings on the monitor.
I explain it will take several days to stabilize him and even then he will not be in good shape.
“This guys a lot worse than I thought,” Jarhead says. He glances around for someone in charge, settling on Mox. “Can I put in any upgrades or is this the standard model?”
“Just make him better,” the huge soldier says. As Jarhead laughs, he clarifies, “get him healthy again.”
“Oh healthy,” the tinkerer says disappointedly. “Waters go look for Memo. Allison go help as well. I’ll take care of this.”
Down in the infested mushroom farms, Violet rolls weird for luck. She gets a 6 and though she doesn’t know it (for sure) has contracted the climbers.
She does say however, “I’m probably going to get the spots and put a bullet into my own head.”
Then we time skip.
The next few days pass quickly. Jarhead busies himself saving A.T.’s life while November engages in a search for the missing Violet. The cult is able to capture most of White’s men. but people begin to question what happened to the missing revolutionary.
November finds Violet’s revolutionaries one hot afternoon arguing about what to do without her.
“But where the hell is Violet?” AOL asks for the hundredth time. “Did she go off by herself again without telling anyone?”
“When was the last time anyone saw her?” November asks interrupting Boo’s grumbling retort.
“We haven’t seen her in a few days,” Lily says. “Last we saw her, she went to talk to Jarhead.”
Starbuck adds, “Garber says he saw her talking to the nurses and Mox. Nobody has seen her since.”
November rolls read a person and gets a 10. she marks experience.
“What are you planning to do?” the dancer asks.
Boo gets to his feet. “We’ve got to track her down.”
AOL glares at him. “But we’ve searched all around the Music Bowl, she’s not there! I think she must have gone hunting.”
“Maybe she went to the Autodoc?” November suggests. “She left Gator there and she wants to move on White soon.”
“That makes sense,” Boo says, looking away from AOL. “Garber and I will drive over there and check it out.”
“Are you sure you only want to send a few of you?” she asks.
In other words, how could I get all of you to go?
Sadly for her the answer is: “You’d have to get them all to agree which is very very hard at this point.” I address Violet: “judgemental works in your favor.”
November rephrases her question. How could I get more to go?
“But what about Joshua?” Lily asks. “He’s still weak.”
“I’m not sure it makes sense to all stay in one place,” Starbuck adds, stroking his dog. “White’s had a lot of time to plan a counter attack.”
“But she may need all our help,” Boo says.
November interjects before tempers rise again. “Perhaps just someone who could report back if Boo and Garber are needed there.”
AOL drops her angry tone and tells them, “I’ll radio you guys when we get there.”
Boo grumbles a bit but soon the three ride off in his yellow truck.
Elsewhere Gator become aware of a bright light above him. A voice mumbles to his left. He pushes open an eye, sleepily but without pain.
“What did you give me,” he slurs.
“We gave him to much yesterday,” a nurse in blue says to someone on his right.
Gator twists his head. Krin stands there, glancing out the doorway. He turns back, “Oh good you are up. We tried to revive you earlier but after your freakout yesterday Job gave you too much sedative.”
“Why am I up?” the mercenary mumbles.
“You asked us to wake you up if something happened,” Krin reminds him. “If there was trouble.”
“What’s going on?”
Krin chews his lip. “The Militia is here.”
“Fuck,” he says sluggishly as he pushes himself up.
“They are not particularly happy.” Krin glares at Gator. “Your guys all bugged out. I don’t know where they are. We got word that A.T. got banged up at the Music Bowl. There was an attack there and it didn’t go well for them. Anyway what you need to know is that the Militia don’t know yet that you are here but they’ve been asking around for you and your gang.”
“They are not a gang,” Gator corrects as he pulls his legs off the bed.
“Your mercenary buddies, whatever,” Krin says. “They are looking for payback.”
“Who is leading them?” he asks, shaking the cobwebs from his mind.
“This girl, Fire. She’s their Lieutenant.” Krin adds, “she been a little bit rough with us.”
“How many do they got?”
“Here? Right now about a couple dozen guys.”
“That’s not so bad,” Gator says standing steadily. “So they’ve been rough on you?”
“Barnum had some sort of deal but he’s not around so we don’t know what we really owe,” he explains looking into the hall again. “They’ve been taking advantage of us.”
“Where’s Barnum?”
“He’s missing. The machines dragged him off and we haven’t seen him since. We don’t know if he is alive, dead or worse.”
Gator grabs his gear. “I can disappear or I can help you out here and fight them.”
“We are not fighters. I don’t think we can afford your help,” Krin says sourly. “Not money-wise but in collateral damage.”
Gator buckles on his armor and turns to Krin ready. “I might be able to talk them out of here but I’d rather talk to A.T.”
“He’s back at the Music Bowl,” Job says. “Jarhead’s working on him.”
Gator glances back. “That’s not good. He’s probably dead.”
“Well Millions wanted to clear out as quick as she could. Or he could,” the nurse says. “Maybe you should just disappear. It would be easier.”
After considering who else to talk to, he decides to escape.
“I’ll get out then and see if I can’t get them off your back.”
“Thanks,” Krin says. “Try to head out the East Wing, they haven’t been hanging out there.”
“Will do.”
Krin looks out the hall a final time and waves the mercenary outside.
Gator rolls acting under fire and gets a 9. He marks experience and advances. He raises his Cool.
Gator slips through long white halls like a ghost. He halts at the final corner before the doors to East Wing. A pair of men chat idly. He recognizes one voice, the youth from Stumpland, Hammer. The other is a mystery. The pair seems absorbed in their conversation, oblivious to any threat. He hears November’s name and settles down into a crouch to learn more.
“When was the last time you saw her?” the stranger asks.
“She was at my home town Stumpland before I joined up,” Hammer says.
“Stumpland? You know where she went from there?” the older man says.
“Can’t help you, I left before they got back from a trip,” he says idly. “They went to the coast I think. I don’t know if they came back or just left.”
“I’ve been looking for her,” the other man says. “I’ve got a message.”
Gator decides to use his oldest and never used move Fuck This Shit to escape. He rolls and gets a 11.
Bored with the talk, Gator paces to a nearby room, looking for a wall more drywall than cinderblock. With a crash, he punches through into the East Wing. Before anyone can do anything, he escapes the hospital and enters the ruins of Miami.
With the hot Florida sun overhead, Gator creeps through the tumbled bricks and steel that was the city’s business district. A church steeple leans drunkenly overhead.
“Psst, this way,” a voice says, “over here.”
Gator spies Road crouched in the shadow of the church. He approaches.
“Hey boss,” the junior mercenary says. “Morgana has taken most of our guys a half mile west of here.”
Gator eyes the pale warrior. “Why do you think they would have shown up?”
“I don’t know,” Road says innocently. “Maybe they wanted to check why the Autodoc was okay. I don’t know what their deal is.”
“They were looking for me and the company,’ Gator says flatly.
Road looks down. “Oh. I thought Morgana told you about that?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” He sighs. “That’s why Morgana left me here.”
Gator holds up two fingers. “So Road that’s two strikes.”
“Is it three strikes I’m out?” he says with a faltering smile.
Gator sighs. “See we don’t really give two strikes. So the question is what are you going to do to fix this?”
“Um. I don’t know boss. What do you need?”
“We got to think about this. Let’s head to Morgana.”
Road nods. “Okay this way.”
The younger mercenary leads Gator through the ruin to the rest of the gang. Just over a dozen hardened men and women camp in what looks like an impassable ruin from the outside.
Morgana waves off the snipers. “You found Road. Good.”
“Yeah, why don’t you tell everybody to get ready to get moving?”
She nods and barks a few orders. As the crowd quickly break camp, she turns to the scarred warrior. “So boss what’s our next move? It seems like we should make ourselves scarce around here.”
“Yes, the Militia is looking for us.” He adds, “A.T. is down for the count.”
She buckles her pack and cinches it across her back. “We heard.”
“I think they are a little rogue anyway,” Gator says. “I think we need to find someone with a clear head. Let’s go see if Jarhead killed A.T.”
She makes sure her weapons are secure and surveys the mercenaries. “Alright guys let’s go to the Music Bowl, quick but quiet. We don’t know if there is trouble there.”
The crew musters out, Wire scouting ahead for any trouble.
Gator stays close to his lieutenant. “Morgana, we need to do something about Road.”
She shrugs. “What do you want to do about him? Do we get one more use out of him or cut him loose?”
“I don’t think it’s wise to cut him loose at this point. I think he could be of use though.”
“Yeah there’s always bombs to be placed and patsies to be made,” she jokes.
“Or amends to be made.”
She nods. “Yeah. If they are fine with one that’s good by me. It wasn’t us that was after that crate. Let’s get going.”
We also establish his mask is working and isn’t damaged from the explosion earlier. Though I suppose I could have siphoned barter from him...
I also hint there is still excitement to come.
But first we find out what happened to Violet.
We discuss the possibilities of taking a disability to recover. She decides to take disfigured so drops her Hot from 0 to -1 as the gunshot leaves a nasty scar on her face and in her ability to trust others.
Violet feels the pain first. A painful throbbing and the thick of buzz of pumping blood help to distract from the stabbing horror that is the left side of her face.
I’ve been shot.
Her fingers claw reflexively into the soft earth. She blindly drops chunks of cold dirt from her right hand and reaches up to her face. Numb fingers encounter sticky blood and something that feels more like raw meat than flesh.
She pulls back in pain and fear.
Long moments pass.
A flickering light illuminates something nearby. She tries to open her left eye but it resists.
Eventually she decides to get up. Slowly she pushes up from the wet ground, Her gas mask or what is left of it, falls from her face in pieces. Violet tries to shake her head clear and instantly regrets it. After a few shaky minutes a painful fog falls back over her.
She shifts her gaze to her left. The massive body of Cougar lies face down in the earth. congealed blood traces an elaborate pattern on the chamber’s floor surrounding Violet. The giant’s bone and steel mask lies a few feet away.
”You could take it and become Faceless,” I tell her.
How did I get here? She recalls confronting someone. They shot me in the head. A blast of emotional betrayal stabs through her painful fog.
Violet looks down, seeing a knife still clutched in her left hand. She drops it. Then she remembers the spores.
The fluorescent light stops flickering for a minute. In the cold light, she sees the mushroom filled logs, now covered in climber stalks and spore grains.
I can’t go back.
Violet stumbles through the tunnels until she finds the sewer entrance. The survivalist then clambers through the soaked ruin for a long hour until she reaches the surface, protecting her face as best she can.
The Florida sun blazes over the Music Bowl to the west. Violet continues forward, away from the arena and whoever it was betrayed her. She finds a pool of water and washes the blood from her face and body.
Finally she lets the water become still and looks into the reflection. The blast shredded half of her face, shattering her cheekbone and barely missed her left eye.
And I have the climbers, she thinks. She gets up and looks north. I have a few days at least, maybe even a few weeks. More than enough time to get to the Autodoc.
Finale time.
Hours later as she mounts a hill of tumbled bricks, a bright streak flies from the southeast. The object flies over Violet before beginning to tumble. The device, a cylinder spewing fire, turns end over end before crashing to earth a half mile from the Music Bowl in a mighty explosion.
The original exchange from Gator was, ”A rocket?”
”A rocket,” I reply, “a tomahawk, like they might have on a nuclear powered aircraft carrier.”
”That’s not good,” Gator says. “He needs to die quicker.”
From the arena lip, the inhabitants watch in horror as a city block turns to fire and ash. Elsewhere Gator watches it fall with dread. White needs to die quicker.
End of Session
Time for Hx! First we need to cover Hx for dealing damage to another PC. November gains +1 from Violet and Violet gains +3 from November. Both reset and mark experience. We decide not to do an exchange of secrets in this case given the circumstances. We now know Violet will shoot to kill and November is beautiful and deadly.Normal Hx improvements are less exciting.
- Jarhead gives +1 Hx to Violet.
I comment, “I tried to steer November towards you.”
She says, “He’s like: I’m glad that didn’t work out.”
- Violet grants +1 Hx to Jarhead.
- Gator we leave blank.
- November inflicts -1 Hx on Violet
”Because if she did know me, she would have talked to me,” November says, voicing her own feeling of betrayal.
Finally we end with a Hard roll for Violet (for my custom move for the climbers). She gets a hard hit and exhibits no symptoms so far. I also mark down the success as she might be able to shake it off. She also marks experience.
Violet is left contemplating her next move. She might change her playbook (I suggest Faceless). She says she is thinking something more like Scholar (to “retire” to teach).
Jarhead changes his last advance from Cassandra Complex to Deep Brain Scan since he sees himself using it more. I point out he needs to build himself a violation glove. Jarhead brings up the electronic nervous system he salvaged.
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