Saturday, August 24, 2019

Demon: the Descent Actual Play: the Unusual Suspects

As I close out things on this blog, I thought it would be good to collect all of Demon: the Descent actual plays in one place, like I did for other series. Here is the Unusual Suspects in its entirety.

Planning Phase

  • Theme Questionnaire: we began as always by questioning the players about what they want. Here we decided on the core themes.
  • Alternate Alternate Worlds: some ideas were left on the cutting room floor. Here I discuss a dimension that would have served as the “Matrix” for the game’s reality, a world where demons make the evening news and the war against the Machine is literal.
  • Little Arcadia: another scrapped alternate world, this details a faerie version of Seattle run by mad changelings.
  • Seattle Dominion: a final scrapped alternate world where Sineaters and Demons rub shoulders and avoid breaking the Dread Laws of the realm.
  • Character Creation

The Cast

  • Accabish: vengeful plotter
  • Daemon: digital cult leader
  • Hunter: force for justice or loose cannon
  • The Naturalist: juggler of identities and distracted messenger
  • Weaver: ancient builder and fixer of flaws

The Story

Friday, August 23, 2019

Demon: the End, Part 2

Three years ago, I started a Demon the Descent game called the Unusual Suspects. Though it was a fun game and we resolved several stories, the game ultimately had to end due to time constraints. The final story never completed. I still hope to conclude it one day. Here is the final part of this Chronicle for now.

A Final Recap: Part 2

Vaccuum tubes activate. Lasers scan holographic crystals.

<<System Recovery In Progress>>

Attempting to Reconstruct Data...

Partial Record Recovered. 37% Complete.

Archiving Fragments...

2 PM, Olympic Sculpture Park

Daemon and Hunter wandered under the massive red structure known as the Eagle. Hunter sweated inside his facade's jacket while Daemon strolled comfortably in a Tee-shirt and jeans. They stopped to watch the preparations for the Fourth in a nearby field.

"Where is the Mutilationist?" Hunter asked.

Daemon pointed to a bench directly below the modern artwork.

The Mutilationist had the hood of her jacket up despite the heat and her sleeves pulled down over her hands. Large dark glasses obscured her features. She turned as they approach, blondish hair poking out from the hood.

Her cover looked young, perhaps twenty but sick with something. White lines of scar tissue covered what paper-thin skin peeked from her clothing.

“Hello,” Daemon said. “We have a meeting."

“So you want to know about Repurposement facility?” she said in Occitan, revealing a mouth short a few teeth. “I think I can assist you. For a price.”

Occitan is a language related to French and Catalan. Should be rare enough to avoid easy translation.

“What price?” Daemon asked, switching languages.

“Two items. First, you share your intel. Second, if you investigate the Infrastructure directly I am going along. Deal?"

"Deal."

Hunter sat down on the bench opposite her. He could see a resemblance to Clare Smith. It wasn't perfect. Her face had a different shape. She was a touch shorter. Thinner too. But she definitely wanted to look like Clare.

"Why don’t you start by telling me what you already know?” she asked.

Daemon sat down. "I know there's an angel watching over the place. There's a lot of missing and dying children associated with the location, going back decades. Those disappearances seem to be starting again. Also, it looks like the entire place is Infrastructure.

"What can you tell me?"

"It is worse than you think. The angel is just an observer. The real defenses are underground. That is where it takes the children." The Mutilationist's gaze fixed on Daemon. "Have you heard about the Legion? They were an Agency, more of a family really, who were trying to breed demon blooded children. The Machine decided to use these offspring." She shifted on the bench. "It did things to them. It made them into its own servants. Into angels. Then it sent them after their parents."

"Now it is doing it again," Hunter said.

"Nobody has heard from Legion for years," Daemon said. "Were you one of them?"

“No.” She shifted again. "I was one of the ones the Machine took."

"So you've been inside? Where are your allegiances now?" Daemon extended his senses for any signs of the angelic. Nothing. If she was a pawn of the Machine she was biding her time.

"Once. Before my mission. I know the ways in." She paused and looked down. "The machine took my humanity and I've spent the past decade trying to get it back. I want revenge."

Daemon nodded. "I can understand that motivation."

The Mutilationist looked back up. "I know going in alone will only get me killed or worse. With a team and some care however, I think we could shut down the facility."

"There are those of us interested in tearing down this piece of the machine. Give us your intel and we can work together."

She smiled slightly. "There are four entrances to the Repurposement Facility but only two are accessible to us. A seaside entrance allows access for large shipments. It opens every 16 hours for a short time. It will be watched. The other entrance is in the church. The organ is a piece of Infrastructure. The correct chords open an access port. The hitch is that it also serves as the recharging station for the angel stationed in town.

“Inside, the facility resembles a grid of tunnels and shafts surrounding a large cubical space. The core contains the Infrastructure that enacts the transformation. There should be a data storage center within. That might include some details on its vulnerabilities. Otherwise some explosives should do the trick."

"I can help with that piece," Daemon said. "Hunter here can help with the demo. And we have others that can assist with the operation. Let me discuss this with the others and we will be in touch."

She added, "I want to access the data storage before we destroy it. It may have some the pieces of myself I've been searching for."

Something bothered Daemon. "You said that the machine is focusing on the children of the fallen? To what end? To use them against the fallen themselves?"

"Yes. That's how it makes-" She stopped herself. "I'm sorry. It turns the children into weapons against the fallen. I think it also does so to make them into servants. More angels. I think we might all have been something else, someone else, once."

"Was it focused on the Legion alone," he asked. "Are they destroyed?"

"The Legion was most definitely destroyed," she said coldly. "The Machine must now have another Agency as a target."

"I'll look into that," Daemon said. "It seems something activated it again."

Daemon guessed this was the Naturalist's fault and failing that, Accabish’s, for having children.
I corrected him. The whole ring is the trigger. This is revenge for the loss of the Lizard Brain.

Hunter leaned in. "Your appearance seems very similar to one of the missing children. But it isn't exact, even accounting for the time difference. Why?"

"I am Clare Smith," she said putting some anger into her voice. "I've spent years trying reclaim my life, the life it took from me."

"Don't mind him," Daemon said, getting up and pulling Hunter along with him. "We'll be in touch."

July 3rd, 2012, 5PM Outside Moe's

First Nat’s player and I worked out some house rules for constructing covers in “downtime” and the Naturalist’s plan to swap bits between covers.

By bargaining for a major aspect of a person (a close family relationship, a key physical feature, something that would fit in a two or three word description of the NPC) and spending a scene arranging the deal (and whatever rolls that come out of that), you gain a dot of Cover.

If a demon cross-patches material from an existing cover, they needs to spend a Willpower and roll for compromise for the old cover. For each dot, roll using the modifiers of the new level. If it is a patchwork cover it is easier to tease the threads out. For other Covers, the roll suffers an additional -3 penalty as the demon modifies the pact.

The Naturalist ran over the plan for their meeting with Mill. Even though Mill would be meeting Dorian, the Naturalist played the message the detective left for Jenny first.

“Hi, this is Robert Mill of One of a Kind Investigations. We are investigating a man who has been seen around your neighborhood. I'd like to see if you recognize him and know anything about him. My number is 555-4352. Can you call me back? Thanks for your time.”

The Naturalist closed the phone and switched covers.

Dorian exited the car and walked across the street to Moe's. Inside people downed beers in small knots, eager to begin their Independence Day celebrations a day early. He spotted Mill by the bar chatting with Stacie.

Stacie pointed in his direction.

At this point unfortunately the game began to fall apart. We never resolved this scene.

7 PM: Washington University Campus

As Daemon weighed the ring's options, he absently check his guild to see if any new tidbits about Bainbridge had emerged. The chat and forums were oddly quiet. The last post was hours ago.

He did however find a large number of private messages.

"I got a call from a detective today."

"Someone is snooping around. I overheard my mom talking to somebody about my gaming habits."

"I think they are private detectives."

"One of a Kind Investigations called me."

"I think I saw something about these detectives on a conspiracy site. Here's the link. They seem like bad news."

"I'm telling everyone to keep their heads down. Legally they have nothing. We should be in the clear as long as we don't make waves."

The last one was from Zanity. Smart, if frustrating.

Basically Daemon's cult is laying low. He can still use them but it runs the risk of exposing his activities to One of a Kind Investigations, the Hunter cell. Otherwise they will eventually (by the end of the story) stop their surveillance. Essentially this is a condition.

Being Watched: earn a Beat if lacking your allies causes a significant inconvenience. Resolved by exposure or laying low for a story.

Daemon clicked on the link in one of the messages. The two page narrative displayed was more coherent and less racist than most such rants. It also filled in a number of gaps.

The poster appeared to be close to both Verdant Technology and One of a Kind Investigations.

Basically I was closing off further inquiry into this issue since we’d basically exhausted that thread.

Daemon earns a Beat and resolves the Verdant Technology Aspiration.

5PM near Adamant Technologies

Jeanette let the security door lock behind her and walked quietly down the street. Halfway she ducked down an alley, disappearing for a couple minutes into the Weaver's bolthole to file clues and blood for later analysis. The demon exited in their new cover, Sam, and headed for the young teen’s apartment.

And Stan.

Sam was waiting on the steps when Melanie’s father staggered in drunk around 6 PM. 6’ 4" and stocky, he shuffled into the apartment building with a case of beers in his meaty hand. Weaver realized belatedly that Stan could inflict Melanie's bruises with one hard squeeze.

The man’s dark eyes focused on Sam. "What the fuck do you want?’ he shouted. “Another lazy loafer? Don’t you have something productive to do.” He raised a hand. “Get out of my sight.”

Weaver makes a Wits + Empathy roll. Total Dice Pool 4, 3 successes.

As Stan advanced, Weaver concluded the relationship that formed the cover of Sam depended more on Stan self loathing and how he acted that out than anything else. This powerful thug might not hold back against someone who isn’t actually related to him.

Weaver uses Sum of All Fears. Wits + Empathy - Composure + Willpower, Total Dice Pool 5, 2 successes. Fears include: having to face the terrible things he's done sober (murder, torture, maiming), all done for the local mob underboss Big Freddie; destroying his life through drink; ending up on Big Freddie's bad side; and having his crimes exposed.

The Weaver stood their ground and looked past the calloused skin to the frightened man beneath. A man tormented by the terrible sins he committed for the mob. Stan feared exposure of his crimes and of Big Freddie’s wrath. The damage caused by his chosen medication for these stresses only added to his anxieties.

As Sam, they stepped towards the door to her apartment, ready to dart for cover at the first sign of trouble. “I’m pretty sure I’m not the one you want to hit, Stan,” she said.

Manipulation + Persuasion +2 for hitting some his fears. Total Dice Pool 3, 1 success.

Stan shouted a few curses at her before stumbling up the stairs.

Risking physical harm to learn Stan's secrets counts as satisfying Weaver's Virtue. The demon regained all willpower.

Sam watched Stan walk up the stairs before speaking. “What if I told you I could make Big Freddy go away?”

Stan whirled around. “What do you know?”

"I know you fear him. What you've done for him, and what you might have to do for him in the future." Sam smiled at him, doing her best to look confident. "I know a fair number of things.”

Weaver allowed their facade to drop slightly, allowing small amounts of wood grain to show through Sam's skin, and the cutter to peek out from behind her shoulder. "I could cut his thread out of the weave of your life, if you wish, replace him with something kinder and safer perhaps?"

Weaver used Download Knowledge. The demon rolled Wits + Computers, Total Dice Pool 6, 3 successes. They gained 3 temporary dots of Persuasion.

The demon also did a partial transformation. Wits + Manipulation -2 for cover -2 for being supernatural and witnessed +1 for Stan being intoxicated +3 for willpower +7 for unused abilities, Total Dice Pool 11, 5 success. The Weaver takes a Cover Beat for Sam and regains a Willpower.

Next the Weaver rolled Manipulation + Persuasion +2 for overt demonic power and appealing to his Aspirations +2 for his drunkenness -2 for his resistance. Total Dice Pool 7, failure. The demon accepted a Dramatic Failure, gained a Beat and things escalated.

Stan was stunned only for an instant. Then he was on top of Sam, bringing down a bottle like a club.

She sliced upwards but the large man sidestepped her blade, forcing the demon to squirm to the door for safety. Adrenaline surged through its veins as pain shot up its arm.

We roll initiative. Weaver and Stan have the same modifier, Weaver wins and fires as Stan approaches. The demon rolls Dexterity + Firearms + Willpower, Total Dice Pool 5, failure.

Stan attacks 6 dice - Weaver's Defense of 3 and connects for 1 Lethal.

Weaver twisted the knob open with their uninjured hand, pressing Sam's slim body through the door before Stan can catch her. The demon threw the bolt and began fiddling with the other three locks and chains.

Because I think Sam's "parents" would be paranoid. This is not the nicest neighborhood.

Stan slammed into the door like an angry bull. The bolt wrenched free of the wood, hanging loosely from the door.

Stan tries to knock the door open. Stan rolls 6 dice and gets 4 successes. The door has 6 Structure (1 Durability, 5 Size) and Weaver tries to soften the blow by holding it shut. The demon rolls Strength + Stamina, Total Dice Pool 4, failure. Stan does take a bashing damage as well.

Weaver let the door swing open and stares at Stan defiantly, folding her arms in front of her.

As he swung at her again, she dissolved into a cloud of nanoparticles. "Stan, this is pointless! Can't you see I want to help you!"

I learned it is technically against the rules to acquire new demonic form abilities after a partial transformation. But I never enforced it before and I didn't here.

Weaver completes a normal partial transformation. So Wits + Manipulation -2 for the weak Cover and +6 for unused abilities +1 for drunkeness -2 for obviously supernatural + 3 for Willpower. It costs another Aether. Total Dice Pool 7, success.

Weaver spends the Aether and Stan simply swings through the cloud the demon became. The shock certainly frightens him.

Weaver rolls Presence + Persuasion + 4 for him being terrified - 3 for his resistance +2 for still being drunk. Total Dice Pool 8, 2 Successes.

Stan blinked, his mind processing the impossibility before him. He lurched left, a meaty hand gripping the door frame as he slid into the corner. "Oh God, what are you? Don't hurt me. I'll leave you alone. Just don't hurt me."

Stan probably thinks Weaver is some sort of angel or devil.

Sam looked at him and sighed. "Well if you'd just listened from the beginning, maybe we wouldn't have had to go through this. I don't intend to hurt you, unless you attack me again, and I don't intend to take up any more of your time than necessary. So I'll get down to business.”

The demon kept their eyes on Sam as they pulled out a clean sheet of copy paper. Weaver walked over the kitchen table and picked up a pen. "Now that you are ready to listen," she said as she wrote, "I have a proposal for you. You don't have to say yes if you don't want to, but given what sort of life you're living right now, and what Big Freddie has had you doing, it could really be to your benefit. Wouldn't it be nice to not have to answer to him? Not be constantly doing things that could one day land you behind bars for him? Maybe even have a chance at a halfway decent life? What do you think? I could make it happen for you. All you would have to do is sign this paper."

The contract removes the mob connections from his life in return for a job he actually wants to do. Mechanically it is an exchange of a Medial Asset (+2, for the new job and the resources that come with it) for a large chunk of his life - Greater Cover (+3), both with a permanent duration. It is a bit and would cost 2 Willpower.

The demon slides the paper the side of the table along with the pen. Weaver stepped away and gestured to Stan to take a look.

Weaver rolls Manipulation + Persuasion roll with a net +4 bonus (+1 for being drunk, +2 for being scared, -2 for his general resistance, +3 for his Aspirations and fears). Total Dice Pool 9, exceptional success. I decide this leaves Stan a bit unsettled. He gains the Leveraged Condition. Weaver can ask him to do something for the demon in the future and he will do it out of a mix of fear and gratitude.

Stan pulled himself up and stumbled to the table. He looked over the paper, glancing occasionally in Sam's direction. Then he took the pen and scratched his name at the end. Weaver felt a satisfying drain as the pact is completed.

The demon nodded.

Stan stood up and, shaking slightly, backed out of the room. He almost reached the stairs before snatching up the case of beers lying on the floor and running. Weaver heard his heavy foot steps racing upstairs.

Weaver’s cover Sam got another Cover Dot. They will be able to use Legend to get Streetwise or a number of violent skills with it. Adding this to Sam changes the cover a bit. I also decide this alters the abusive relationship that forms the backbone of the cover. Not detrimentally but Sam is definitely a survivor of abuse now rather than a victim. Adding the mob connections suggests she's older, perhaps late teens and probably a bit more tough looking.

Weaver regains 1 Willpower due to a good night's rest afterward.

Improving Sam’s cover to 2 dots makes it a lot less risky. Worst case the demon loses a dot not a whole cover. Also the penalty for compromise is only -1.

July 4th, 2012, 7PM

Two demons team up for a research montage.

Accabish rolls Intelligence + Occult, Total Dice Pool 4, 1 success. Then Weaver rolls Intelligence + Occult + Accabish's successes, Total Dice Pool 7, 3 successes.

Weaver and Accabish met the next evening to pool their knowledge about the original Lilith. According to demonic folklore and scraps of angelic memories, she was the first rebel, the first angel to fall. Her story is at least as old as Sumeria where she spawned stories of the Lilitu, child stealing and breath sucking vampires.

Weaver recalled hearing about her in ancient Egypt as a story passed around by mortals. Neither demon can recall knowing about her directly from the God-Machine. Some rumors claimed she exists as a blind spot in the God-Machine’s plans, free of its influence due to completing her Cipher and fulfilling her Koan. Others claimed she developed a device known as the Satan Signal which caused angels to fall.

One thing was clear. To learn more the demons would need more help. From their knowledge of local demons, the most likely source of information, outside of hacking some Infrastructure, was an extremely old demon called the Gerent. It lived at Hell on Earth, a dive bar in the University District.

Weaver asked Accabish if she thinks they should find out if Gerent is willing to share any information it has.

So at this point the game began to fall apart due to scheduling and life pressures.

Thursday, August 22, 2019

Demon: the End

Three years ago, I started a Demon the Descent game called the Unusual Suspects. Though it was a fun game and we resolved several stories, the game ultimately had to end due to time constraints. The final story never completed. I still hope to conclude it one day. Here are the final parts of this Chronicle for now.

A Final Recap: Part 1

Somewhere a computer the size of a mountain whirrs to life.

<<System Failure>>

Rebooting...

Memory Corruption Detected!

Attempting to Reconstruct Data...

Partial Record Recovered. 36% Complete.

Computing Optimal Restoration Point.

July 3rd, 2012 12:15 PM somewhere near Pudget Sound

Hunter's phone vibrated as he pulled his patrol car up behind a large black van. He scanned the empty space behind the strip mall reflexively before reading Daemon's message. "Asset in trouble. Meet at the spot."

I know. He stepped out and approached the vehicle. An older African-American man stepped out and waved to him. The officer recognized the Naturalist's cover, Atticus.

"Where is she?” Hunter asked.

Atticus gestured to the van and pulled open the side door.

Inside Cymbeline laid unconscious next to a pile of four dead men. Hunter looked at the men in their identical suits with identical daggers thrust into their chests, clutched in identical hands. The fourth man differed in that he lacked a dagger as well as a spherical chunk of his chest. The demon pulled at one of the strange plastic tubes running from the men's heads. A white residue pooled within it.

Hunter checked Cymbeline's vitals next while Atticus, the Naturalist, looked on. Her breathing was slow and shallow. He peeled back an eyelid. Her eyes didn't dilate in the bright light. The officer checked the small black bag beside her. He found a pair of syringes and two vials, one labeled phenobarbital.

"I'm not sure but she should be out for a few hours," he told Nat.

The Hunter rolls Wits + Medicine, Total Dice Pool 4, 2 success.

The two demons lifted Cymbeline up and carefully carried her to the patrol car. They slid her into the back. Nat gently placed her hands on her chest. While Hunter started the car, Nat ran back and grabbed the black bag.

As Nat buckled in, Hunter adjusted the mirror.

The lid of his trunk was open.

The demon jumped out and ran behind the patrol car. A ripped open body bag lay in the trunk, smeared with blood. A red trail marked his bumper where the angel must have slipped out. Hunter slammed the trunk closed. The lid popped back open as the broken latch failed to catch.

Hunter heard Nat exit distantly as he ran over his route in his head. Traffic was heavy. He remembered several stretches of road marred by potholes. She could have escaped anywhere.

The Hunter rolls Wits + Investigation, Total Dice Pool 4, failure.

“Was there someone in there?” Nat asked.

"Let's go," he told Nat. "I'll deal with this later."

12:30 PM at the Communal Bolthole near the Washington University campus

Weaver exited the bus. As Jean’s phone buzzed in their pocket, a young man in a college tee-shirt pushed past. The demon stepped to the side and read Daemon's message. Well I was on my way there anyway.

A short walk brought Weaver to a dingy apartment building. They circled the structure and entered through the back door. Past the boiler room and some electrical panels, the demon stopped at a boring off white door. Weaver fished out a key and opened it up.

The demon stepped into a large chamber marked with hieroglyphics and steel piping. On the far side the other demons stood in a tight circle.

"You lost an angel?" Daemon scoffed.

"She was dead," Hunter said. "I thought she'd be secure. I didn't realize she was playing possum."

Nat turned to Weaver. "Thanks for coming. Some God-Machine cultists gave these to Cymbeline. Can you tell us what they are?"

Weaver glanced at the girl lying peacefully on a blanket on the floor before leaning in for a look at the two glass vials.

"I'll see what I can do," Weaver said taking the two ampules.

12:30 PM, elsewhere in Seattle

Here's a cut scene that explains why Hunter is not in immediate danger...from the God-Machine.

The child limped along the side of the road, one arm pressed against the savage cuts to her midsection.

"Where are you going, little girl?" an accented voice said.

Peace Montaro looked up. A tall African man in a suit smiled down at her.

"I," she said, static edging into her voice, "need to...get to 38th and Stone." She grit her teeth. "And report the defector."

"I will help you get there, little angel," the man said. He took her hand. "Tell me about this defector."

"I must report back," she said leaning into him. Greenish liquid stained his pant leg. "He was a policeman. David Schmidt. But really he was a fallen servant, a golden lion."

The man stopped.

"I'm afraid I can't let you report back about him," Yves said, a metallic tone edging into his voice. "I need to be the one to reap the slayer of the Lion Tamer, little angel."

The girl looked up at him, readying herself for a fight.

The air in the street darkened for a moment.

When light returned, cracked and dusty concrete sat where Peace once stood, now decorated with aged shards of bone and silicon.

Yves wiped his leg absently. Small chunks of skin flaked away revealing corroded metal beneath.

12:35 PM at the Communal Bolthole near the Washington University campus

Then back to the PCs.

Hunter's phone buzzed while he listened to Weaver. He glanced at a text from Ms. Storm. "If you are still alive, order the special. Your friend will know what that means. Be careful. We are being hunted."

He turned to watch the other demon. Jeanette's finger turned brown and wooden. The demon dripped the solution from one of the vials onto it.

Weaver does a partial transformation. It spends an Aether. The demon rolls for Compromise: Wits + Manipulation +1 for Cover + 6 for unused abilities. Total Dice Pool 11, 9 successes! The demon gains a Willpower and gains a Beat (though we still haven't resolved what type).

"This is a sedative," she explained, examining the label. "What it says on the label."

She dripped the second vial onto her finger.

The demon then rolls Intelligence + Science + Chemistry speciality. Total Dice Pool 9, 1 success. 

It does a follow-up Intelligence + Occult roll to make sense of the result. Total dice pool 6, 3 successes.

The fibers within the Weaver's fingertip decomposed the complex mixture of organic and inorganic compounds.

"This is a chemical code," Weaver told the others, creasing their brow. “I recognize neurotransmitters, some prions and virtual RNA as well. I worked with some of this chemistry with our former employer. I think it directly targets demonic heritage. I'm not sure what the specific effect will be on Cymbeline but it activates the demonic powers in those injected with it. It may also open them up to the God-Machine's influence.”

“Is this connected to the drugs I found at the school?” Nat asked.

“Possibly,” Weaver replied. “The sample the school sent to Adamant Technologies acts as a psychedelic that gives the user a minor high. But deep down the complex compounds open a psychic connection to someone, probably the creator. I isolated some of the blood this individual used to key the connection.”

“Who is it?” Daemon asked.

“I don’t know. But I also detected traces of chemicals that could only have come from one source, a piece of Infrastructure I worked with before I fell. Those drugs are also tied to the God-Machine.”

"So we're dealing with drugs that are spreading the God-Machine's influence now?” Daemon said. "We should probably stop or suborn that."

“Agreed.”

Nat fidgeted beside their daughter and looked around. Their cover, Atticus, visibly perspired. The demon gently and haltingly laid one hand on Cymbeline's head. "She has suffered a lot you know. The machine has taken nearly everything from her." Nat was quiet for a moment. "I was content to ignore the machine for so long, but I'm starting to understand the Saboteurs."

"Do we have a lead on a source though?" Daemon asked. "Dealers or what not?”

"No, but one of my covers has children, and there has been some fear among parents about these temporary tattoos. I think I mentioned it earlier...I wonder if its connected.” Nat looked at Daemon. "Saboteurs are fighting a losing battle. It's like an ant fighting a planet. The real solution is existing long enough to find a way out of the program."

"I don't disagree, with the first part at least. But it sure must feel good to break the machine a little bit. Even if it's ultimately futile." Daemon paced the room. “So they use drugs, and likely those stickers, to discover who the children are. Then they active their latent supernatural abilities and the men in a van kidnap the children?"

"It does feel good to hurt the god machine," Hunter added, "and even a thorn can stop a lion." Hunter described the children that are on the police's missing persons list: Peace Montero, Queue Johnson and Aiden Hex. "I have a feeling we may be seeing them again. I would prefer not to kill them unless absolutely necessary." The demon gritted his teeth slightly as he adds, "finding the ones using them is important to me. Nat, is your cover associated with any of these kids?"

I let Nat know about one of the kids’ fathers and how he traded some of the pact that make their Cover to Ms. Storm. Nat rolls Wits + Empathy for extra info and succeeds.

Nat nodded. "I do know something about one of the children. I’ve made deals that contributed to the identity of Aiden's father, Samuel Hex. He is a demon. Based on who I traded them to, Ms. Storm, they must be a leader in the Wallbreakers.

"It is possible that one of our kind is assisting to the abduction but I do not think it is Storm. She is generally like me and tries to avoid attention. Between the work of the previous dealer we heard about, Jerry, and the information Cymbeline’s abductors provided, they probably have a pretty large net. The men knew to expect us at the police station and they waited until I was distracted. They were not acting of their own free will. The machine infested their minds."

The Naturalist turned silent for a second staring into space. "I have three covers. You all know Dorian and Atticus, but I only mentioned Jenny in passing. Jenny is recently divorced and the mother of two children. She is a recovering alcoholic whose in and out of rehab. She does not have custody of the children. The children live with her ex, John, and his girlfriend Jackie. Jackie has limited knowledge that Jenny is not normal. One of the children, Jane, has limited supernatural abilities." The Naturalist's remains icy calm. "I am telling you this, because against all odds I've come to trust you all. I am telling you because I believe they are in great danger and these people will come for Jane." They looked to the others. "I'm not sure we should suborn this. I think this may need to be destroyed.

"I'll infiltrate the school. Let me go after Jerry. You guys... If you watch long enough they will come for Jane. Keep them safe for me?"

At this point Nat resolves his Guilty condition by coming clean on a number of things.

"I am well equipped to infiltrate their organization if necessary," Daemon said. "I also have children in my guild. They may be able to provide some information as well."

Nat stood up. "Be careful, the grunts know what we are. The angel has provided them with power or technology to detect us. This isn't our standard infiltration. If the children have potential, they may wind up like Cy."

"How do you plan on infiltrating a group of children?" Daemon asked. "A facade may be dangerous if they are able to detect us. It's very difficult to remain concealed to detection in that situation. Is this high school?"

“That depends on my initial investigation. I might not even need to infiltrate. If I can identify Jerry while notifying the principal that Cymbeline ran away, then I don't have to bother."

"I am fully willing to destroy an operation that targets children," Hunter contributed. "If they know what we are already, we must be prepared to go loud if necessary. Nat, can you get me a disposable cover for this purpose? I would prefer to not put David at risk, even to help Jane."

“I can do that."

"Okay then," Daemon said. "Ill look into this from my end. Hunter, we've got an appointment to keep. Let's discuss our strategy."

"I should be going too," Weaver said on their way out.

"Hold the door, I need to make a call," Nat said.

1 PM: Slog Offices

Accabish deleted Daemon's text and closed her phone. She didn't have time to deal with that. Not with the detective waiting outside.

The demon reviewed what she knew about Lillian Shaw.

Shaw was born in Seattle in 1978. Her parents divorced amicably in 1986. Her father, an insurance adjuster, moved to Chicago but Shaw visited him for the summer and holidays. Shaw’s mother appeared to have encouraged her interest in sports, boxing, and rowing.

Shaw earned an Associate of Applied Science degree from Seattle Community College, while working as a night guard for the Northgate Mall. The grades on the transcript Accabish retrieved from the college looked decent. Shaw attended Seattle Law Enforcement Academy as soon as she met the age qualifications. She began her field training at age 21.

As a patrol officer working in the West Precinct, Shaw worked heavily with the Major Crimes Investigation Unit, specifically with Missing Persons cases. The rumors the journalist uncovered suggests she and Jack Lawrence, head of Missing Persons, had an affair. In 2003, she was assigned to South Precinct Vice instead of a promotion to MCI.

That May she turned in her badge and went to work for Frank Brooks, then owner of One of Kind Investigations. She quickly acquired her P.I. license with permission to carry.

She resolved an impressive number of cases.

Accabish looked at the feature photo from the November 2005 article in Seattle Metropolitan. Shaw damp from the rain, carries the photogenic boy to safety, framed against the bay amid a wash of red and lights. Nice of the publisher to give such a feature to the savior of her little boy.

With the rescue of Nicole Vogel’s son, Shaw was catapulted into the limelight. She traded on her publicity capital to build her business, purchasing One of a Kind Investigations from Brooks, but keeping him on as a consultant. The agency had increasing success, especially with missing person cases, though also making a solid name in insurance, surveillance, and background checks as well.

Accabish scanned the crime report her friend from the force slipped her. On November 12, 2008, Frank Brooks went missing. He showed up three weeks later missing time and much of his mind.

Shaw made new hires, some with military connections, and her firm racked up a surprising number of injuries through 2010. Accabish uncovered reports of "animal attacks", property damage, and disappearing maniacs.

Then something went seriously wrong. In early February 2011 an employee went missing and Shaw shuttered the company for two weeks.

Since then One of a Kind Investigations seems to be focused on mundane cases. No more workplace injuries. No more weirdness.

Accabish saw how the pieces fit together.

Shaw is a determined and independent woman. She’ll work to make things right but keeps an eye on the bottom line. If the job doesn’t pay and she sees no direct threat, she appears disinclined to pursue. Whatever happened to the firm in the last year has soured her on the dangerous activities she and her team were involved in.

Accabish also gains a condition.

Insight: you have a clear idea of Shaw's motivations. Resolve this condition (and earn a beat) when you use this knowledge to help or hinder her. This upgrades the results of a social skill roll by one step (failure to success, success to exceptional success).

Accabish buzzed her secretary. "Tell Lillian Shaw she can come in."

The woman who entered wore a tailored suit. Accabish reached a hand across the desk. “Nice to meet you.”

The demon directed the investigator to a chair.

“So I had a few questions," Shaw said. "My team was working on a case when they came across information pertaining to you. One of my clients is being stalked. In the course of our inquiry into the stalker we came across some details on other possible targets, including yourself.”

"Really?"

“Yes. Are you familiar with MakeSpace Storage, the storage center over in Rainier Valley?” she asked.

Accabish rolls Wits + Empathy, Total Dice Pool 6, 2 successes.

The demon reflexively realizes that the private detective was looking for an emotional reaction. She threw on a mask of bafflement and shook her head.

The demon rolls Manipulation + Subterfuge vs. Shaw's dice pool to fake genuine ignorance. Total Dice Pool 7 vs 6 dice. 4 successes vs. 3.

“No?” Shaw said, switching tactics. “It was a location that seemed connected to our stalker’s fixation on you.”

"I honestly have never heard anything about that place before," Accabish says. "What can you tell me about this stalker? Perhaps I'd understand why he was fixated on me then."

"I'm afraid that is confidential." Shaw paused and looked at her phone. "Well perhaps you can tell me more about the night of March 13th. There was a bus accident at Eastlake. Lots of damage. You visited and talked to several witnesses. Nick Mathers, Joseph Mutsinzi, Dorian Magee, and Jeanette Teller. Can you tell me anything about them? They were also the focus of our stalker. Did it seem like they knew each other or were otherwise connected?"

"I can tell only what was in the papers. I included almost all of the details there. Let's see there was the computer science student..." Accabish lays out an abbreviated version of the article, watching for what the detective would focus on. "Joseph was a little strange. He had an odd look in his eyes. He seemed somewhat distant when he talked about the explosion. I think he'd experience something similar in the past. I don't know if that helps."

Shaw jotted something down in her notebook. "No that has been a big help."

Accabish showed Shaw out. Alone in her office, the demon smiled inwardly. Shaw had been fishing. The detective's heart wasn't in this case. All I need to do is make sure there is no threat or profit. And I get the feeling she's not getting paid for this.

July 3rd, 2012 12:40 PM, Outside the bolthole

The Naturalist considered the events of the previous few days. As the others discussed their next steps inside, the demon texted Jacky. "The children are in real danger. They are special and bad people are trying to take special people of their age. I'll explain in detail when we get a moment alone."

"What are you talking about?" Jacky replied.

"Please. Just trust me. I know how insane this sounds. But Jacob and Jane are in danger."

Hunter and Daemon exited behind Nat.

"We have a meeting to catch," Demon said. "Hunter says she'll wake up soon."

"Thanks," Nat replied and went back inside.

Cymbeline stirred on the makeshift bed. Her eyes search the windowless space before settling on Atticus. "Where are we?"

The demon sat by her side and gently took her hand. "My child, we are in a secure location. The people who took you did something to you. I have a friend trying to figure out what."

She rubbed her head. "What did happen to me? My head hurts."

"They injected you with something. Their goal was apparently to open your mind. They are some sort of... servants... cultists maybe. They themselves were being controlled somehow. I'm willing to tell you whatever you wish, but I think you should consider how much you want to know. It won't make anything easier."

"That's...vague," Cymbeline said, her eyes coming into focus. "What do you mean they were being controlled? By who?" She looked over at the gray wall that marked the edge of this space. "Or what?"

"An ancient and powerful alien intelligence. A thing beyond my ability to fully comprehend. That is what they wish to open you up to. They serve one of its servants."

She shivered. "But why?"

"It is a vast and unknowable thing that sometimes issues contradictory orders. It uses human belief, and it pretends to be what it needs to be to influence people. So it might appear as Allah to you or white Jesus to a baptist preacher. It's servants, it's slaves look like angels, but they are not. You are special, you were already briefly connected to it...as I was."

The Naturalist let its pain show through Atticus's face. Like someone talking about a lover who betrayed them. Like a person forced to unveil its sins.

"What do you mean? How were you connected?"

"It is difficult to explain without betraying other confidences, but I was its slave. Much the way the being who those men served is its slave. I rebelled, just a little. I just wanted a moment of distraction from the monotony of my existence. It labeled me a traitor. I learned to hide, very well." Atticus looked at her. His eyes glistened. "I never wanted this for you. I was trying to protect you from getting involved with it again. I assumed that if I hid myself well enough, that we would both be safe. I never thought they wouldn't be after me."

She leaned on the demon's arm. "I don't blame you. I think, maybe, I was always going to get involved with something dark and terrible like this."

We roll for compromise. Wits + Manipulation -2 due to cover -2 due to bad stuff involving Cymbeline + 3 for Willpower, 2 dice. 2 successes.

Atticus picks a new Aspiration: Hunt down Jerry. The drug dealer is causing too much trouble.

The Naturalist paused for a moment as they planned their next step. “Cymbeline, who do you think might have been responsible for those stickers? The ones that you touched on the deck.”

Cymbeline stiffened then shook her head.

“Who might be dealing drugs at your school?” Atticus pressed.

Cymbeline rolls Wits + Streetwise to get the Naturalist on the right track. 5 dice, success.

"I don't really hang out with that crowd. But I heard Shaun Miller in homeroom deals." She described Shaun and his gang.

"It is a lead. What kind of people is Shaun interested in... like romantically?"

"I'm not really sure. He tends to hang with girls with more looks than brains."

Next time the end.

Wednesday, August 21, 2019

How to Roleplay: A Short Primer

So you want to learn how to roleplay. Perhaps you've watched Critical Role. Maybe you played a single game session at a convention. Perhaps you are just curious about joining that game your friends are playing. Congratulations and welcome to the hobby.

Definition of terms

Before I get started I need to define a few simple terms:
  • Campaign: a series of connected roleplaying game sessions, typically played over multiple evenings.
  • Game Master (GM): the person who describes the world and plays the minor and antagonist characters.
  • One-shot: a self-contained story played over a single game session.
  • Party: a group of player characters.
  • Player character (PC): the character portrayed by a player, as opposed to the GM.

How to Roleplay

How do you portray a character? What do you do to transition from rolling dice in a one shot to playing in an ongoing campaign? Perhaps your only experience is watching someone roleplay on YouTube. How do you get started?

Like many things, the answer to how to roleplay is to dive in and start trying. Find yourself a group  and follow the rules for making a character. Then consider the following advice.

Know Your Character

Whatever game you are playing will describe how to make a character for that game. After you've completed that process you will have a character sheet. It will describe the character's attributes, skills, and maybe some background.

Your next step is to get inside your character's head.

What motivates them? Do they hunger for gold? Fight for honor? Or do they just want to complete this mission and then blow all the proceeds on a night on the town?

How do they deal with obstacles? Do they charge in or carefully consider the options? Does the character like to fight at range or close up? Do they love intellectual puzzles or prefer social networking?

What do they think about society? Does it need fixing? How? Would they break the law? Which laws? What do they see as the biggest problem to their community?

Think about how your character would ask these questions and any others that occur to you. There are no wrong answers (though you might want to consider your fellow players to avoid serious personality conflicts).

The important thing is to consider your character's personality and goals and then try to play that character consistently. The bookish librarian probably shouldn't be ignoring the dusty books the party finds without a good reason. The foolhardy musketeer should typically charge (or swing!) into battle without carefully considering the opposition.

Learn the Rules

Make an effort to learn the game rules, at least as they pertain to your character. You should know what to roll if you attack, what bonuses to add and how to determine damage. If your character has magic or other special powers familiarize yourself with the rules for those.

Doing this helps keep the game moving by reducing the need for other players or the GM to tell you what to roll, what to add, and how to interpret the result. That means more action (and story) happens and leads to richer, more full game sessions.

Describe Your Actions

Listen to what your GM and the other PCs do and describe. Then take the time to describe your actions. "Show, don't tell" holds here. Rather than say "I roll to attack the bandit" say "I level my crossbow at the lead bandit's head and fire."

Including what your goal can also be very helpful. For example stating "I swing on the chandelier to the other side of the gallery" tells us one thing. Saying "I swing on the chandelier to the other side of the gallery, right into the soldier taking aim at Alice's character" tells us something different.

To a certain extent description can compensate for learning the rules. If everyone knows what you are trying to accomplish, it becomes easier for the GM to determine the proper the rolls you need to make. In the chandelier example above, the first case might be just an athletics roll while the second case might require some sort of attack roll. Knowing which beforehand speeds play in addition to making the game more flavorful.

Build Off Others

Finally work with the other players and the game master. Build off the descriptions they provide. When the game master presents you with a dungeon to loot, don't say "my character wouldn't go into that tomb." Instead offer a compromise such as "I would go into the tomb if I knew it would get me closer to the six-fingered man. Perhaps he was seen there recently?"

The same extends to actions by the players. If the thief wants to check out the local thieves guild, your character shouldn't just say no. Perhaps you can offer to be distracted. Maybe you want to dissuade them because you have a past with them. You might want to even join them since you've heard your brother joined this group of criminals and you want to stop him from "ruining" his life.

This keeps the action moving forward and again leads to more full productive game sessions.

Game Master Advice

As a game master, all of the above advice counts for double.

Know your story and the world you are playing in. Make sure that the plot and characters are consistent and properly motivated. Bad guys do bad things for sensible reasons, not just to be evil.

Make sure you know the rules well. The players will rely on you to help them with any corner cases in the rules. If you find yourself in a spot where you don't know what the rules are, make a judgement and continue playing. But afterwards, find the right answer and make sure your adhere to that rule going forward.

Describe your characters' actions and the world they live in. The players depend on you to know what is going on and what their surroundings are.

Finally build off your player's actions and don't negate them. Sure sometimes they will fail at an action they described, but they still tried it. If they decide to go to town, don't just shut down that option because it messes with your plot. You are telling a story together and that requires compromise.

Conclusion

In the end roleplaying is about portraying a character in a story. Ask yourself two questions. Is everyone involved in the game is having fun? Are you telling a story? If you answer these yes then you succeeded at roleplaying. That is what matters.

Tuesday, August 20, 2019

Space World: Apocalypse World Actual Play

Here are the collected session logs for Space World, a co-MC'ed 1st edition Apocalypse World game.

The premise for this campaign is that a space based human civilization fell prey to reavers, a contagious madness that drove its victims to murder and destroy the rest of humanity. The survivors hid in the spaces between worlds, eking out livings through the occasional trade or in one of the few surviving colonies or space stations. There are no alien civilizations and weaponry tends to resemble current technology. So think less Star Trek and more Aliens or Firefly.

This was the second Apocalypse World game I was a part of and the first I helped run. With four people doubling as player and game master, threats snowballed quickly. Communities fell or tore themselves apart but for the most part the PCs prospered. Out of 11 player characters, 3 retired to safety, 4 died and 4 reached the end of the game.

Space World Sessions

Monday, August 19, 2019

Space World 13: Touching the Past, Part 2

Now for the last part of "Touching the Past", our final session of Space World. Our co-MC'ed Apocalypse World game wasn't intended to end here. But one of our players/MCs had to move suddenly leaving many things unresolved. I'll have more to say about that at the end but expect that not everything gets the closure it deserves.

Time to patch up some of the damage done by Switch's death, finally fight some Reavers, and deal with internal rivalries.

The cast:
  • Max (Gunlugger): a brutal woman haunted by her past who thought of herself as a reaver. She joined the Carnival to be close to her little sister Hiccup. Slowly she's realizing she's not a monster. Not entirely.
  • Ekaterina "Katya" Mikhailova Petrova (Tribal): for generations Ekaterina's people have lived on Everette, adapting themselves to its strange psychic jungles. But the environment grew too hostile. Katya led her people to a place of safety, following the visions her father saw in the maelstrom. That place is the Carnival. Now her father is trapped in the spirit world.
  • Pipeline (Battlebabe): a golden-haired amazon, Pipeline is the head engineer of the Carnival. She had a crush on Manfred but that, like him, is in the past. So is her former captain, though she might be as dead as Pipeline would like. She's been drinking heavily.
  • Hiccup (Solace): Switch's adopted sister and Max's actual if estranged sibling, Hiccup is shy but determined to make the world a better place.
  • Nadya Kovyal Alexandrovna (Hocus): a shaman with a hold over the mystics of the Baikal tribe. She'd like to expand her power base.

Touching the Past, Part 2

The tribe huddled around the main circle in the hangar bay. Men and women, children and elders, hunters and mystics, all gathered to decide the fate of the tribe.

Nadya stood in the center of the ring. "The red planet hunts us. Mikhail saw this. Even now he protects us from its wrath. But he cannot protect us forever. We must decide how to save ourselves."

Katya rose. "It is true. There is an evil hunting us and my father fights for us in the spirit world. We must make a decision. But we need all of our elders to decide the proper course. We must first rescue Mikhail from his spirit journey. Then with his wisdom we can determine the path."

The Baikal tribe members murmured. The elders and Nadya's mystics seated within the ring began to offer their own ideas.

"We should spirit journey to Mikhail and join him in his fight. Together we can defeat this horror."

"No, we must prepare him for death. Only as a revered ancestor, free of mortal constraints, can we be safe."

"That misses the point, you two. What if we fail? We must hide ourselves from this threat. By cutting ourselves off from the spirit world we ensure the survival of our people."

"I agree."

"Indeed."

As the mystics converged on a solution, Nadya spoke again. "Before we hide ourselves, first lend me your power. I must contact Mikhail."

Basically she gets Insight, ignores it and uses augury.

The shamans held hands with Nadya in the center.

"Mikhail," she called.

Something answered, something that burned their minds. Nadya blinked in pain as her followers screamed and began attacking each other and the rest of the tribe.

She fails, badly. Her followers take the brunt.

One elderly woman launched herself at Ilya, grabbing his neck and knocking him to the ground. Katya wrestled her off of her brother as Nadya came back to her senses.

Seize by force perhaps?

"My allies, stop this madness," Nadya called out. "We are not monsters."

She tries Frenzy. The dice gods frown on her.

For a moment the shamans stopped. Then they dropped their targets and converged on Nadya herself. The mystic attempted to drive them off but there were too many of them.

Seize by force but she only gets a soft hit. So she's not totally savaged. Still it is a medium sized gang (2-harm +2 for size -1 for minimizing harm). She's hurt.

Nearby Max heard the screams and shouts and came running. She arrived to find a few old men and women held by the rest of the tribe, confused and covered in cuts and blood. In the center of the ring lay Nadya, bleeding from a nasty knife wound to the torso.

"Hold still," Max said, breaking out her medkit. As she cleans the wound, she finds the blade punctured her kidneys.

Hiccup and the rest of the crew arrive. "Can you save her?"

Max shakes her head. "This is a lot worse than I thought. I don't have the supplies to fix this, Katya. We need to get to Blue Moon now."

Just when they thought they'd avoid the reavers, Max fails her +stock roll. Nadya has at least 4-harm now.

The Carnival blasted through the last curtain of azure clouds obscuring the surface of Blue Moon. The mining colony sprawled out below on the dirty brown landscape, a speckle of silvery huts clustered around a dozen pits burrowing into the nearby mountain side.

They settled down a few hundred yards from the community.

"Are you coming?" Max yelled to Pipeline as she and Hiccup stood at the main bay doors.

"I'll catch up," Pipeline said. As the others left, she hurried to her bunk.

She pulled the charred mask from under her mattress. Holding it and concentrating she called to Switch.

And opened her brain, again.

"What should I do, Switch?" she whispered.

"Why are you asking me?" she heard Switch say.

Pipeline opened her eyes. Her old captain stood there, slightly translucent and almost eye level with the seated engineer. Pipeline stood up.

"Why? Because you caused all this mess, what with the cult then pissing off Bluejay!" Pipeline shouted. "Then you got yourself killed just when we needed you most. The least you could do is help patch things up."

"Okay," Switch sighed. "First don't trust Mother. She's not what she seems."

"What about the fruit?"

"It's here. I locked it up in the safe under my bed." Switch began to fade. "Sorry I have to go."

"Dammit," Pipeline said. She put the mask away and hurried to the captain's quarters.

She found the safe where Switch said. The lock was easy to open. "I don't know what she was thinking. A child could crack this."

Inside there was nothing.

"Dammit."

"Please we need some medical supplies," Hiccup said to the man at the general store. "Our friend is seriously hurt."

"Sorry, girl," he said, cleaning the counter. "We barely have enough to cover our needs."

Max adjusted the strap for her grenade launcher. She glanced around. The baskets of ores and local goods looked pretty bare. "You know, I've heard you have a little problem in the mines."

"I'm not sure what you mean, miss."

Max leaned in close and smiled. "Some reavers? I could take care of them for you."

The man looked at Max's pale skin closely. "Why should we trust you? And how do you know about the mines?"

"A friend of mine told me."

"Some spook you mean."

"Sure. Anyway I'll remove the threat for those supplies."

The man's eyes darted around the empty shop. "Um, you'd need to talk to the mayor."

Hiccup and Max walked over the town hall, a simple silver box on a low-rise between the mine shafts. The town seemed a bit empty. Several structures sat unoccupied, even slightly dusty.

"It looks like people are missing," Hiccup said.

"Maybe the reavers got them?"

"The vision showed the miners locking up their own people in the mine."

"Sometimes that happens."

Hiccup studied Max.

"I don't think that is true of me anymore," Max quickly said.

"I wondered what the store owner meant about spooks," Hiccup said.

They entered the town hall. A scrawny man worked the desk in the front room.

"We want to talk to the mayor," Max said.

The man looked up and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You'll need to leave your weapon. What do you want to talk to Mayor Crane about?"

Max put down her grenade launcher. "I want to help with the reaver issue."

The man walked to the door to the back room, keeping his eyes on Max. After a moment he returned. "Crane will see you."

Max entered the room. A well fed man stood behind a desk tending to some tools and weapons. "So you want to help with the mines, young lady?"

"Yes. I can wipe the reavers out in exchange for some medical supplies."

"Why should I trust you? What's to stop you from claiming to kill them and then skipping town with the last of our supplies?"

"You can check the mines yourself after I'm done. I don't see the issue."

"We have a lot of valuable ores, unprocessed, in the mine. Machinery too. Perhaps if you put something up, for us to hold onto until the job is done, we can do this. Like that girl you had with you."

"My sister isn't a hostage. If you want some collateral, hold my gun. I don't need grenades for this. Also that way you don't need to worry about collateral damage."

Crane eyed her and the armament still on her. "You do seem attached to your weapons. I'll lead you there."

"Okay." As they left the office, Max told Hiccup, "Head back to the Carnival. I'll be back soon."
Crane led her to the edge of town and a large iron door sealing the entrance to a mine.

"So what can you tell me about these reavers?" Max asked.

"They popped up a few weeks ago."

"What are they armed with?"

"Not much, probably whatever they scavenged inside the mine."

I think Max did poorly on her Read a Person roll.

"I don't understand, where did they come from?"

Crane opened the door. "Step inside. They were miners but then they started acting weird. Visions, strange physical mutations. We had to seal them up before they became violent."

"That doesn't sound like reavers."

Crane locked the door behind her. "I'll be back later when the job is done."

"Excuse me," Hiccup said to the third miner passing by.

"Sorry, I've got work to do. We're short-staffed."

Hiccup looked for someone who wasn't busy. That's when she saw Pipeline making a beeline for her. The tall blond-haired woman stood out just as much as Hiccup in her crocheted sweater and cap.

"Hiccup I need to ask you something," she called.

"What is it?"

Pipeline stepped close to her. "Do you know about the safe under Switch's bed?"

"Yes? I don't know the combination though."

"That's not the issue. Someone broke in."

"Oh, I hope it isn't Mice again."

"Mice?" Pipeline scowled.

"Yes, she cracked the ship's safe a while back. She got into some strange fruit."

"Dammit. I was hoping to find what was left of those cursed fruits in the other safe."

Pipeline shifted her gaze over Hiccup's head. "What's Gauge up to?"

Hiccup turned and saw the other engineer chatting with a miner. She shrugged. "Maybe he's looking for someone."

Pipeline stomped past her. "Guage, why are you off ship?"

"It's Mice. Chic couldn't find her."

"You take Hiccup back to the ship. I'll find our little thief."

Max creeped through the darkened tunnels. Smoke drifted up from below. She checked the safety on her gun and continued.

Around a bend, the tunnel widened. Nine people clustered around a small campfire. Max crouched in an alcove and watched them.

"Do you think they'll let us back in?" a woman said.

"Why would they?" a teen scoffed. "They threw us in here to die."

"Wait, what was that?" an old pale man said. He stood up and pulled a burning board from the fire. "You're sure there isn't another way up from below, Sam?"

"No way. Its the elevator or nothing."

Max checked her gun and stepped out with her hands up.

"It's a reaver!" someone shouted.

"Crane sent someone to kill us!" another yelled as the group stumbled to their feet and ran down the tunnel.

The old man and couple of others stood their ground. "Who are you? Why are you here?"

Max kept her hands up. She studied their pale strange faces. "I'm Max. I was told there were reavers here. I'm here to clear them out. But you're not reavers. You're spooks."

I believe Max actually succeeded on some Manipulate a Person rolls here.

The man relaxed and put his torch back into the fire. "Yes. But there are reavers nearby, people who have gone mad being trapped in this mine."

"What happened?"

"The other miners, they've always hated us. One day Crane made it illegal to be a spook. Gathered us up and tossed us into the mine. It's not being strange that make a person go reaver, it's being alone, separated from others."

The teenager nodded. "Pick, Rain, the others, they tried to find a way out alone. when they came back they weren't people anymore. We trapped them on the level below."

"Fine, I'll take care of them and then we'll find you a way out. Which way to the elevator shaft?"

Max followed the boy's directions and soon reached the dark pit. Three reavers, they had told her, two trapped in the elevator when they cut the lines and a third down below.

A metal cable hung over the gap, sheared off a few feet below the current level. Max holstered her weapon and began to climb down.

The level below was even darker. Only a few of the lights remained on. Max crept along carefully, listening and watching for signs of movement.

She acts under fire.

Something squatted up ahead, chewing on part of a limb. Max grinned in the darkness. Knife out, she slipped up behind the reaver and gutted it.

As the man-thing squealed in its death throes, Max heard something worse. Screams and shouts from above.

Max ran back the way she came, gun in hand. Quickly she climbed over the wreckage of the elevator and up the dusty wood frame of the shaft. As she returned to the campfire, she found blood, gore, and the remains of half of the spooks.

The reavers had disemboweled or dismembered most of them but one man lay slouched against a wall, merely stunned.

"Get up," she whispered. "We need to get out of here."

She grabbed hold of him and began to drag him back to the entrance. Suddenly the man bit down on her wrist. Two other reavers, their skin flayed and teeth sharpened to points, dropped down from some hidden space, landing on top of her.

She grabbed the man by the neck and snapped it while they tried to pin her down.

First seize by force. Max takes 1-harm I believe because reavers deal +1 harm, have some weapons dealing 2-harm, and work as a gang. Max is also a gang so that cancels out. Her armored space suit reduces the damage by 2. Max has weapons too (2-harm knives +1 for bloodcrazed) so the gang takes a serious hit.

Something sharp stabbed into her neck.

Max pulled her knives. She kicked, sliced and stabbed. With one kick she knocked a reaver into a wall. The glow of a nearby light illuminated its shredded cheeks and scratched off scalp.

A knife thrust found the other's heart. By the time the survivor recovered, Max was on her, her knives notching into bone and cartilage.

I believe she got a 12+ on her second roll and thus dealt something like 5-harm (Max of course advanced her seize by force move).

Pipeline jogged around another building. Five more and she'd clear the town. Huffing she rounded a corner.

Mice was whistling and swinging a burlap bag in one hand.

"Mice, what are you doing?" Pipeline asked.

"Just walking."

Pipeline stepped in front of the little girl. "What's in the bag? Come on show me."

"No. It's mine. You can look if you give me something. Something shiny."

Pipeline gets a hit on Manipulate a Person.

"Sure, whatever. Just let me look."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Mice opened the bag, revealing a wad of candy mixed with simple toys.

"Where did you get those?"

"From the store."

"Mice. How did you pay for them?"

"I traded some seeds I found."

"Mice," Pipeline began.

Then they heard screams from nearby. Pipeline turned toward the mines.

"You ever shoot somebody?" said one of the men standing outside the thick iron doors to the mines.

"A few times, Jonker. Why?"

Jonker motioned to the door with his rifle. "What if they come out?"

"The spooks? Those wimps are going to die down there. Don't worry about it."

"What about that woman?"

A knocking came from within the mine. Jonker slid the peephole open. "What do you want?"

"Don't talk to them Jonker," his companion said.

Max looked through the thick slit. "Job's done. Let me out. Now."

"I don't know," Jonker said. "Hey Kite, can you get Crane?"

The other man shook his head. "I think he said not to let anyone out."

"Fuck this," Max said and grabbed Jonker by the throat through the slit. Her cybernetic hand began to whirr as she closed her grip. "Now open this door or I break your neck."

"Ak, okay!" Jonker fumbled with the key.

I believe Max went aggro. Then MC decided to be a jerk.

As the lock clicked open, Max kicked one side open. Kite grabbed his gun and started to load it.

"Really?" Max said, blood still staining her armor. She clamped her mechanical hand shut and swung a scavenged machete down with the other.

"My arm!" Kite screamed as she severed his limb. "Jonker help!"

Jonker collapsed the ground, his throat and spine crushed.

"Fuck this town," Max said, swinging at Kite again, this time at his head.

Max moved quickly through the spaces between buildings. On the well-worn paths, se spotted people rushing to respond to the screams of the guards. She headed for town hall.

Act under fire.

The man out front had his shotgun ready and his eyes on the main street. Max stepped behind him and sliced him open from groin to sternum.

Then she let herself inside.

The front room was empty. A few papers slid along the floor where the clerk's flight had dislodged them.

Max opened the door to Crane's office.

Max had been sloppy. The shotgun blast came from behind. Two men grabbed her from either side and hurled her to the floor. From her new vantage point she could just make out Crane's boots through the throng of followers.

His voice rang clear. "Finish her off boys. We don't need any reaver scum here."

I think Max blew a read a person roll and took some harm from the ambush.

Max sprang to her feet, drawing her guns as she did. Crane's men didn't expect such agility. She strafed them with her machine gun, crumpling most into blood heaps. Crane ducked behind his desk. Her automatic fire tore out chunks of pulp from the finished surface.

The guy behind her got a spare knife tossed through his throat. He drown in his own blood.

"They are dead, Crane," Max said as she rounded the desk. "I want my gun and all of the town's medical supplies." She pointed her rifle at his fat face. "Now."

Go aggro.

Time for some Katya action, now that Hiccup isn't on stage.

Katya watched Pipeline join the others as they raced to the edge of town. Up here on the hill the hunter could see half of Blue Moon. This dusty rock seemed almost as alien as Megaton or the Carnival.

An angry mob formed near the doors to the mines. Katya's sharp eyes picked out splatters of blood. She scanned the area. A hand print on a silver structure. Crimson footprints in the tight spaces between buildings. Katya started down the hillside.

The trail ended at a large boxy building. Katya crouched beside the man sprawled out in front. His guts oozed out beneath him.

"What happened?" Pipeline said as she came up behind Katya.

"Max," she said.

Katya stood. The shot hit her an instant before the pain raced up her shoulder. Katya whirled around, drawing her bow.

A half-dozen men advanced on the women, their guns lowered and ready. Pipeline fired back, retreating into the town hall.

I'm sure this was a seize by force or two.

An arrow found one man's throat. Pipeline dropped another. Bullets torn through the room, showering them with shrapnel.

The building shook and Max stepped out of the mayor's office wreathed in smoke. "I've got the supplies."

"What happened to the mayor?" a man shouted.

Max aimed her grenade launcher at the crowd. "This."

The blast demolished the front of the building and sent most of the growing crowd flying into the air.

"Let's go," Max said, leading the others out of the town with a satchel of medical supplies hanging from one shoulder.

The townsfolk scattered from their path, broken by the devastation or the guilt of their misdeeds. Max blasted a few buildings along the way. The important looking ones.

As they reached the Carnival, Max called to Daily. "Get this ship off the ground. I hope you've refueled."

Daily nodded and ran off.

"Sit down you two," Max said, applying some bandages to the worst of Pipeline and Katya's wounds. "We'll need a week of bed rest to fully recover. You go to the bunks. I'll be by later to set you up. First I need to help Nadya."

"I will come with you," Katya said.

They found the shaman in her hut surrounded by the other mystics. Stephon looked up as they entered. "You're too late."

Or more to the point Max botched her roll.

Max knelt by Nadya's side, checking her vitals. She injected a stimulant. Nadya's eyes fluttered open.

"It's too late," she told Katya. "You were right. I can still fix this."

The shaman closed her eyes and concentrated one last time. Reaching out she felt Mikhail's presence.

"Go back to your daughter, to our tribe," she told him. "I will stay here in your place. Go."

A final use of augury.

Nadya shivered and gasped a final time. As she went still, Max closed her eyes. Elsewhere Mikhail opened his.

Hiccup knocked on Pipeline's door. The engineer opened it a crack.

"You wanted me to come?" she asked.

"Yes come in," Pipeline said. "There's someone here who has something to tell you."

"What?" Hiccup said stepping inside.

Switch stood there, fading in and out slightly. "Hi, Sis."

"Switch? Are you really here?"

"Sort of. I don't have long. Pipeline wants me to sort out the problems I dumped on everybody. I was never good at that. So here's a new one. The Carnival needs a captain. You should be that captain, Hiccup."

And the Carnival continued on.

Sadly we lost the player of Pipeline a week later due to other commitments and so we ended here.

I think another session would have seen Max finally commit to a less violent path, Hiccup take the reins of the Carnival and some sort of resolution of the threat to the Baikal tribe. Nothing world shaking but just a bit more closure. Oh well no game is ever perfect.

Sunday, August 18, 2019

Space World 13: Touching the Past, Part 1

"Touching the Past" was our final session of Space World, a co-MC'ed Apocalypse World game. This session we deal with the fallout of Switch's death, Blue Moon, and introduce a new PC, a replacement for Switch: Nadya Kovyal Alexandrovna, a Hocus in the Baikal tribe. And Katya thought she'd dealt with her rivals.

The cast:
  • Max (Gunlugger): a brutal woman haunted by her past who thought of herself as a reaver. She joined the Carnival to be close to her little sister Hiccup. Slowly she's realizing she's not a monster. Not entirely.
  • Ekaterina "Katya" Mikhailova Petrova (Tribal): for generations Ekaterina's people have lived on Everette, adapting themselves to its strange psychic jungles. But the environment grew too hostile. Katya led her people to a place of safety, following the visions her father saw in the maelstrom. That place is the Carnival. Now her father is trapped in the spirit world.
  • Pipeline (Battlebabe): a golden-haired amazon, Pipeline is the head engineer of the Carnival. She had a crush on Manfred but that, like him, is in the past. So is her former captain, though she might be as dead as Pipeline would like. She's been drinking heavily.
  • Hiccup (Solace): Switch's adopted sister and Max's actual if estranged sibling, Hiccup is shy but determined to make the world a better place.
  • Nadya Kovyal Alexandrovna (Hocus): a shaman with a hold over the mystics of the Baikal tribe. She'd like to expand her power base.
More on Nadya:

Nadya is a transgressing woman adorned in shamanistic fetish vestments. Her face is severe and covered with the tattoos of her tribe. Her body is soft and her eyes burning but clear.

Nadya was once a hunter of the Baikal tribe, but found in time that she held greater strength in the spirit world of her people. She became a potent spiritual mediator and guide, and since the collapse of Mikhail, has quickly usurped the role of chief shaman. Not all favor her new position. Even those close to her tend to judge her actions strongly when it comes to their people.

Stats: Cool +0, Hard +1, Hot -1, Sharp +1, Weird +2

Her starting moves included Fortunes, Frenzy, and Charismatic.

Her followers had the following stats: Fortunes +1, surplus: insight, augury, want: judgment

Nadya’s shamanists constituted her followers. They were:
  • Rigorous and argumentative (surplus: insight)
  • Constitute a powerful psychic antenna (surplus: augury)
  • Few followers (Surplus: -1barter)
  • Judgmental (want: judgment instead of want: desertion)
When Nadya traveled, the shamans stayed with the tribe in the red ship.

Touching the Past

Katya led her hunters into a long low hall perched atop the great beam running between the two main supports of the Carnival's hangar bay. Scavenged light bulbs lit the narrow space. Lining the far walls sat the elders and shamans of the Baikal tribe. At the far end stood a sharp faced woman were covered in mystic tattoos from her elaborate headdress down to her toes.

"Greetings, first hunter," Nadya Kovyal Alexandrovna said.

Katya held back her distaste. She'd known Nadya since they served together under the previous first hunter. That she chose a different path did not bother her. That she now occupied her father's place did.

"Greetings, shaman."

"Chief shaman," Nadya corrected.

"Not while my father still breaths."

A whisper of movement swept through the hall as the hunters and shamans looked to their respective leaders.

"She is correct," an elderly woman to Nadya's left said. "We must not be hasty."

"As you say," the mystic conceded. "So Katya, I have heard you talked with your father in the spirit world. Please tell us of your journey."

"So how many days of food do we have?" Max asked Daily as they went through the storage bay.

"That at least is a bright spot. With so few of us we should be good for a couple of months."

"What about fuel?"

Daily shook his head. "We didn't get to refuel before leaving Megaton. We'll be dead in space in just over a week."

"But we can get to Blue Moon, right?"

"Yes but no much else. Plus we don't have enough barter on hand to refill the tanks."

"How much do we need?"

Daily frowned. "If we did a big show, it would cover it and then some. But we don't have a big show. We can probably make enough to make another hop. But then we'll need to restock the reactor and refuel."

"Alright, I'll see what we can do about bringing in more jingle. I will talk to the Baikal tribe. They need to pull their weight if they are going to remain on board."

Now to extrapolate the missing section from the previous session's log.

"So what did you see?' Nadya asked.

"My father, Mikhail, stays within the spirit world to protect us."

"From what?"

"I saw a strange light in the sky. My father claimed it came from the red world. All I know is that it felt full of hate. It wishes to destroy us and the rest of humanity. While he remains there however, our people remain safe."

The elders and shamans began arguing different courses of action.

"We must rescue our revered leader," a prune like man shouted.

"No it is too dangerous," a crone said. "Let him die and in doing so save the tribe itself."

"But who will protect us when he is gone?" a one-eyed man asked.

"We must seek a vision of the proper course forward," the crone suggested.

"I agree," Nadya said. "We must consult the wisdom of our elders."

"We need to help my father," Katya said. "Without his strength we are vulnerable."

"I believe I can protect the tribe in his stead."

As they argued the others elders began murmuring about other spiritual matters.

"This red planet sounds dangerous but what of the spirits of this ship?" the wrinkled elder asked.

His one-eyed companion nodded. "the deaths have awakened something dark aboard this vessel. I have seen with my lost eye the ghost of the captain wandering its halls."

Conversation stopped when someone knocked on the door. All eyes turned as Max swung it open and strode in. "I need to talk to Katya."

Katya approached the armored woman. "What do you need?"

Max lowered her voice. "We need to work out how your people can help support the Carnival. We have very little...supplies to keep traveling."

"Of course."

Nadya walked across the long hall, an ebony skinned man named Stephon at her elbow. She instructed him in the Baikal's strange harsh tongue to greet the strange outsider for her.

I'd forgotten Nadya doesn't speak the "common" language.

The man stepped forward. "Our leader, Nadya Kovyal Alexandrovna, greets you."

"Okay, hi."

Nadya watched Max closely. Opening her third eye she saw Max as a flaming cactus, dangerous but rewarding. She relayed her reply to her translator.

Nadya opens her brain.

"She hopes she can help you in your endeavours."

"That would be good. We need to find a way to make this ship profitable again."
Katya stepped between them. "Stephon, who is first hunter?"

"You are."

"And who do you serve?"

Stephon looked back and forth between Katya and Nadya. "I, I serve the tribe under the wisdom of our shamans."

I think Nadya may have tried to Read a Person but I don't recall what she found out.

"I will take care of this," Katya said. "I will consult the shamans when I need them."
With that she guided Max out of the hallway.

Nadya turned to Stephon. "That woman could be useful to us. Let us descend to the main floor of the Carnival tonight and see what other allies we can locate."

Pipeline sat on the edge of Narnia's stage and looked at the others. The few remaining people on board she considered sane.

"So we need to decide what happens to the Carnival," she began.

"Shouldn't everyone be here then?" Hiccup said.

Old-Ma nodded, her feet nudging the floor and looking for her customary rocker.

"Why did you get just the four of us here?" Narnia said. "Even if you wanted just the old crew we should at least have Daily and the other engineers."

"I'm not discussing something they can help with."

"What then?" Ma said in a cracking voice.

"I want to do a séance to contact Switch," Pipeline said. "We need someone designated captain before Max takes the position for herself."

"I don't think she will," Hiccup said.

"And I don't think we could stop her," Pipeline retorted.

"Well if it's a séance, I think I'll go now. I'm not good at those things."

Weird -1.

As Hiccup rose to leave, Narnia spoke up. "What do you think Old-Ma?"

"Contacting ghosts is always dangerous business. Someone is apt to get hurt."

"I don't care," Pipeline said. "I need to do something or drink and I've been told to stop drinking."
Narnia got up and shifted the chairs around Old-Ma. "Okay let's do it then, the three of us, together. Do we have a focus?"

"Here, this." Pipeline handed over a charred wooden mask. "I took it from Switch. After she died."

"Alright. Everyone place a hand on the mask and concentrate."
The women gripped the blackened red mask. Together they reached to the other side, calling to their former captain.

Pipeline opens her brain. And fails.

The three of them fly back in their seats with a crack. Old-Ma toppled over in her chair still clutching a fragment of the mask. Pipeline stumbled to her feet, her chair falling down behind her. The remainder of the mask sizzled in her hand for an instant, charged with the psychic energies.

Hiccup stepped out of Narnia's tent. The hangar bay lights were dimmed, making the vast space gloomy and cold. Two members of the Baikal tribe approached her.

The strangely tattooed woman murmured to the almost blue skinned man beside her. He addressed Hiccup, "our shaman, Nadya, is curious to meet you."

Hiccup extended a hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Nadya shook her hand and relayed a greeting to Stephon. The three of them proceeded this way haltingly in a three-way conversation for a few minutes when Stephon said, "Nadya feels the spirits are strong around you."

Nadya opened her brain earlier.

"What does that mean?"

He converses with his master. "She can sense the unseen things of this world. The spirits of this ship, they become calmer around you, quieter. Nadya wonders how you do this."

"I don't know what you mean. I don't sense any 'spirits'."

Nadya whispers in Stephon's ear.

"It must be unconscious, she says. She would like if you could visit her to discuss this more. Perhaps she can help you learn to control this power."

Possibly a manipulate a person roll?

"I guess."

Hiccup followed the strangers back to the ladder leading high into the rafters of the Carnival.

Pipeline stomped back to her bunk. Another door closed she thought as she pulled a bottle from the case by her bed.

Max appeared in the doorway. "Hey, Pipeline. I wanted to talk to you about something."
Pipeline set the bottle on the ground. "What?"

"I've been thinking about how we might raise some extra cash to keep the Carnival going and I'm wondering how you feel about working some more violent jobs."

"Like what?"

Max reads a person but fails.

"Well you are pretty buff and I bet you can swing a machete as well as those tools. I'm thinking we team up and see who wants violence done at Blue Moon. If you are up for that."

A small voice piped up behind them. "You want Pipeline to help you kill people?"

The two women turned to Mice.

"Get out of here pipsqueek," Pipeline said.

"Hey, she asked a question," Guage said stepping out of his room and behind the little girl. "You planning on killing people for cash Max?"

"It is honest cash."

Max is transitioning to the Operator playbook. Obviously her gigs include murdering.

Guage gripped Mice's shoulders.

"Hey let go!" the child cried.

"I think the rest of the crew would dump you overboard if they heard that. " Guage lifted up Mice, shielding himself with the child. "Maybe you should give me a cut of your take and I'll keep it on the down low."

Pipeline glanced at Max. She was gritting her teeth but hadn't drawn a weapon or made a threat yet. Pipeline considered making one herself. "Guage put the kid down."

"It's fine," Max said. "Forget the job. It was a dumb idea."

Pipeline watched as she walked off.

Guage let Mice slip down. "Damn, I hoped I could get some jingle. Ow!"

As Guage grabbed the spot where Mice bit him, she scampered off. "Serves you right!"

"Nadya thinks you would make a potent shaman," Stephon said, his skin gleaming into the dark confines of Nadya's hut.

"I don't know," Hiccup said, sliding away from the large glowing bulb between them. "I'm just, I'm nobody."

Nadya shook her head. Stephon relayed her words. "You possess a gift. It may not be traditional but it is potent. You can quell spirits and tame the monsters that lurk at the edge of our perception. Nadya can teach you how to access these gifts."

Nadya manipulates a person.

"Really? I'm not sure. I'd need to know more. Can you show me how these abilities work?"

Nadya nods and whispers to Stephon.

"Wait here," the former hunter says. "I will bring the rest of Nadya's followers."

A few minutes later a dozen men and women clambered into the low hut. They joined hands. Stephon took Hiccup's right hand and Nadya her left.

"What is happening?" she asked.

"We will summon a vision of our destination," Stephon explained.

Nadya uses her followers as an augury.

The large red lightbulb began to glow more strongly, the light fading in and out, changing from a dim red to an electric blue.

Then snap.

Hiccup's vision filled with a blurry image of two miners outside a large metal door. A thick chain bound by a heavy lock held it shut.

"We can't leave them in there," a bearded man said. "They are still people."

"Not anymore," the pale husky man replied. "They are reavers now."

"My wife is in there."

"It can't be helped. We need to protect the rest of Blue Moon."

Hiccup pulled her hands away and shivered. The vision faded and she saw Nadya smiling at her but also partly concerned.

"I need to go," Hiccup said, getting up. "I need to talk to Max. I'll see you later."

Nadya nodded. Hiccup turned and left.

Hiccup entered the bridge. "There you are."

Max and Daff looked up from the main console.

"What is it, Hiccup?" Max said. "I was just showing Daff how to manage the ship's systems one-handed." She smiled and flexed her mechanical right arm. "I have some experience in that area."

"There are reavers at Blue Moon. We need to find a different destination."

"What?" Daff said.

"Hold up," Max said. "How do you know?"

Hiccup explained her vision as Max nodded calmly.

"It sounds bad," she replied, "but they still have the community under control. I think we can handle it."

"But reavers, Max."

Max tapped a few buttons on the console. Several green dots appears on the edge of a large display showing the positions of Blue Moon, a gas giant, and the Carnival. "That's us and that faint blue circle is how far we can get. We simply do not have a better destination available. Sorry."

"I'm going to talk to Daily. Maybe he has some idea."

As Hiccup ran off, Daff said, "Can we handle reavers?"

"We? Probably not. But I can."

Pipeline lay on her bunk with the two pieces of the mask in her hands. What should we do Switch, she thought.

Suddenly she sat up and popped open her locker. Commander Kriss‘s sword fell out. She grabbed it before it hit the ground.

Pipeline closed her eyes and concentrated.

And opened her brain. Clearly she had weird highlighted this session.

The sword thrummed with energy. The mask shards snapped together on her bed. Slowly it rose to eye level, rotating to face her.

"I...am...Switch's...mother," it whispered.

Pipeline slowly opened her eyes. "What? What do you want?"

"The seeds. They must be sown. In the soil of Blue Moon."

Pipeline frowned. "What seeds?"

"The seeds of the fruit of the garden ship."

"Switch destroyed all of them."

"No. The seeds remain. They lay near Hiccup."

The bunk room door to opened and the mask fell to the ground.

"What was that?" Narnia asked. "Who were you talking to?"

Pipeline picked up the newly whole mask. "It said it was Switch's mother."

"Switch's mother is long dead and I don't think she'd be speaking through that."

"Maybe. It claimed some of that strange fruit was still on board. It said Hiccup might have some seeds."

"I don't believe that. Hiccup wouldn't hide something like that."

"Probably. But can you help me find out if she does? We should make sure the fruits are really gone."

Manipulate a person probably.

Narnia nodded. "Alright."

"Daily!" Hiccup called as she ran down the hall.

"What's the rush?" the clown replied.

"We need to change course. I just learned there are reavers at Blue Moon."

"What?!" Daily stumbled back. "We need to tell Max."

"I did. She said we didn't have a better choice."

"There's at least a couple of stations we can make with our reserves." Daily began to hurry to the bridge. "I'll take care of it."

"Thanks."

Hiccup easily Manipulates a Person thanks to her high hot.

"I told you we had other options," Hiccup said as they lounged on Switch's four-poster bed.

"Fine," Max said. She'd exchanged her armor for some slightly large overalls.

There was a knock and the door opened. Narnia and Pipeline stepped in.

"Excuse us," Narnia said. "We need to look for something."

"What?" Max asked.

"We, uh, need some fruit," Pipeline explained.

"Have you checked the food stores?" Hiccup asked. "I think we have some dried apples and some jam."

"Actually we were looking for fresh fruit," Narnia said. "You wouldn't happen to have any around here?"

"No sorry."

Max eyed the pair as they slowly moved around the room. "What are you looking for exactly?"

Narnia pulled her aside and whispered, "Max please don't interfere. There are things, bad things, that we encountered before heading to Everette. There was a fruit that took away your love. Some of it might be on board."

"You think Hiccup has it?" she asked.

She read fear in Narnia's eyes.

Thanks to Read a Person.