More Futurisitic Fun Than You Really Wanted, part I of V

[Jenne]

this. shit. is. awesome.

(and a wee bit fucked up.)  I likey.

[Jenne]

I read this thread.

Now I am struck with the first case of proper full on insomnia I've had in years.

I've spent a good chunk of the last hour trying to sleep but being unable to.

Hey, is good.  You're feelin' da juice, man.  But ya need to rest.  So sleep, and wake up refreshed and hitting the pavement hard, running, in canvas trainers, tomorrow.   

[Jenne]

Hmmm...I think the spread to New York will be the closing act.

What I need now is more "man in the street" stuff from Southampton or London.

I mentioned Manhattan in my piece.  Total disconnect, sorry.  What do you need with geography, since I have brought you the whole of the US and taken you personally to London to wage "war" with Payne for a spell?

SPOILER:  I have you travelling briefly north, then sad news brings you home.

[LMNO]

The horse is running. Match your gait to it, not the other way round.

[Eater of Clowns]

Ok, I'm setting the next damned scene (shit, this could go MOVIE if we wanted it...which reminds me of a whole OTHER site I was on that was an MW offshoot--did any of you know I was part of a Pagan television show production company, via internet, back in the day?  I'd almost forgotten myself...).

EoC, Richter, anyone else--Cainad, Semaj, Hawk and Req--if I forgot your name, I'll ask permission anyway--anyone in this thread!!!--can I incorporate your characters into the Payne + Rog + Pixie scene?  I might have to mention ops.  I can make up names, but it might blend better if I use the ones already in play.

Hey, go for it, that's what it's about isn't it?  

[The Wizard]

Found a tape recorder in the sewers, with a tape still in it. Not sure who this guy was, but hopefully someone can figure it out, get it to any loved ones the poor bastard had.
       Operator Fry

So, I guess this is going to be the last thing that'll ever be heard from me. The chances of me getting out of this on a messed up leg are slim at best. Throw in the fact that I'm lost, I can't find my flashlight, and the...things down here, and yeah...I'm probably not going to live through this. God help me...please...

voice breaks down into sobs for a minute or so.

Sorry about that. Look at me, crying like a fucking  baby.  Not exactly how I want to be remembered. Deep breathes. Okay, I'll start by explaining how I got down here. I was...am a journalist, or rather I'm studying to become one. I go to the London College of Media and Journalism. Anyway, I kept hearing these rumors about homeless people disappearing in the sewers, and about those Paynite psychos doing god knows what to them. So, I figured I could sneak down here with a video camera, one with night vision, and my tape recorder and blow the whole thing wide open. Jake Morrow, investigative journalist, hero. So stupid...

Sure it was dangerous, everyone has that friend of a friend who knew a guy who disappeared in the sewers. But, you never really think that you might end up being one of those guys. Yeah, my cousin's girlfriend knew this guy, Jake, who went into the sewers to do a story and was never seen again. Haha.

So, I used a manhole, one of the few that hasn't been bolted shut or put in a security camera's sights. I brought a flashlight so I could see, and a map of the sewers so I'd be able to find my around and back. The first hour or so was pretty boring, just wandering around in the dark, scared but stupidly certain that I'd be okay. I was about to give up and head back up to the surface when I heard it. A little bit ahead of me, around a bend or two, I could hear this...I don't know what it was. Sounded kind of like a bird singing. It freaked me out, but I really wanted this story, so I kept on going. As I got closer I could hear the sound of servos, the sound of power armor. Paynites.

I turned off the flashlight and pulled out the camera. Night vision worked fine, I figured I could get a quick shot of whatever was going on down here and then get out with none the wiser. I wasn't prepared for what I ran into.

It was a battle. A group of seven or eight Paynites in full power armor duking it out with these...things. Can't begin to describe them, they were moving way to fast for my camera. The servo-heads were packed up in a group, not letting the things hit their flanks. But the creatures were fast, and smart. Kept hitting the servo-heads at multiple angles, slipping in low to the ground, where the powered armor seemed to have difficulty reaching. The Paynites though, fought like steel angels, every swing taking hitting a monster.

The fight seemed to last forever. I couldn't move whether from fear or awe I can't really say. The singing grew louder, and more of the creatures flooded into the fray. Despite their efforts, the Paynites were being dragged down one by one. It didn't seem to bother them much, they just laughed or screamed out prayers over top the noise. The serv0-heads formation finally broke, and the things swarmed them. The crazy laughter turned into screams, and I ran. When the Paynites broke, so did my nerve. I ran as if the Devil was chasing me.

A low singing noise becomes audible in the background. There's a pause in the recording, like he's listening to it.

Oh god...they're coming. Okay, stay calm, gotta finish this. So, when I ran I left most of my stuff behind, including my flashlight and my map. I didn't care, I just wanted to get as far away from those things and their singing as I could. I'm not sure how far I ran before I slipped, but I did. I hit a particularly slippery batch of ground and my feet went out from under me. My camera went flying out of my hand, and I landed on top of my leg. A loud crack and pain just shot through my leg, pain so bad I couldn't help but scream. Probably killed myself when I did that, let the things know I was down here...

The singing grows louder, and his voice speeds up, starts getting that edge of fear in it.

So here I am propped against a wall, waiting for those monsters to find me. I can't walk on the leg, and the only thing I've got on me is this recorder. I'm not expecting a lot, but if anyone finds this...get it out there. People think that its all just urban legends or something. The public needs to be told.

Oh sweet jesus, oh mother, they're here! Please god, christ, help me! Eyes, eyes in the darkness! NO! PLEASE GOD...

There's a long drawn out scream, and then all that can be heard is the singing. It keeps going until the tape runs out.

Jacob Morrow has a couple of parents here in the city. We'll see what can be done for them, but for obvious reasons they can't know what happened to there son. As for the tape, destroy it. Nothing on it that'll do anyone any good.
       Chaplain Baker

[Don Coyote]

I have too many things in my head, but maybe I'll shake some out tomorrow while pulling 24 hour duty. This is something awesome and I want to be a part of it.

[Jenne]

The horse is running. Match your gait to it, not the other way round.

Ah, yeah, makes sense.

Hey, go for it, that's what it's about isn't it?  

Yes!  On it!

[Jenne]

Semaj!  Awesome stuff--love how everyone's working in the media...

[The Wizard]

Semaj!  Awesome stuff--love how everyone's working in the media...

Thanks! You're bits were fucking awesome by the way. Working Roger in there...nice. 

for the entire thread.

[Requia ☣]

Ok, I'm setting the next damned scene (shit, this could go MOVIE if we wanted it...which reminds me of a whole OTHER site I was on that was an MW offshoot--did any of you know I was part of a Pagan television show production company, via internet, back in the day?  I'd almost forgotten myself...).

EoC, Richter, anyone else--Cainad, Semaj, Hawk and Req--if I forgot your name, I'll ask permission anyway--anyone in this thread!!!--can I incorporate your characters into the Payne + Rog + Pixie scene?  I might have to mention ops.  I can make up names, but it might blend better if I use the ones already in play.

Yes, except Susan and the cameraman (unless you want to set your scene before they were interviewing the nameless streetpeople).  Also, use 'KC' for my first person character's name.  I'd prefer a pseudonym of mine I can actually see using in meatspace.

[The Wizard]

Oh yeah, forget to mention that. You can use me if you want to Jenne. And my bit is kopyleft for anyone that wants it.

[Don Coyote]

He dropped the envelope on my desk. The envelope I had mailed to his purchasing agent four days ago.
"Could you please explain to me why you just ordered triple your usual order of raw iron, and these," he paused, unfolding a rather long list, "are some rather unusual elements for a small time foundry to be ordering."
I cleared my throat loudly, hacking some of the dust out of them, and shrugged. "All I know some kooky cult in Britain commissioned some rather unique swords from me a few months ago."
I motioned for him to take seat, since I tired of standing, and a cup of water, since I was thirsty. It was well over 100 degree outside, and hotter back in the shop.
He arched on his stupidly manicured eyebrows at me.
"The day before I mailed that off, they ordered double what they did before, and requested I make some some changes to the alloy. I had enough for a test batch, and what ever it is they are using these swords for, I am sure we don't want to know."
"Go on"
I grunted as I get out of the chair, somethings get worse with age, and motioned for my guest to follow me back into the shop.

"Well?"
"Do you see how big this is?"
"what's your point? Might just be religious iconography."
"Have you ever seen a church with 8 foot long swords made from a modified super-alloy?"
"So...how much you making off of these?"
I tell him. He spit out the lukewarm water in shock.
"That per batch?"
"No. A piece"

[Jenne]

At Bonn's Pub, the atmosphere was dark, dank and perfect.  Payne and Pixie knew the bartender, and we sat at a round table near the window, with Payne facing the door.  I didn't blame him.  I put my own back against the wall so I could watch the crowds of street kids, workadays and suits coming in for their evening pints.  The smell of swill mingled with that of cigars, cheap tobacco and stewed meats.  We'd ordered dinner, and were waiting for our orders while our beers sweated in their glasses.

"It's all shit.  I don't know how you've lasted this long."

Payne raised his eyebrow at me and then frowned down at the table while drawing on the table in the moisture left on the table by his glass.  He glanced at Pix, who was looking at me with something like desperation mixed with chagrin.  I knew these two kids were in it up to their necks, and I felt for them.

"We are doing what we can.  The juice isn't working anymore, the supplies are fairly limited.  We need the formula."

I looked at Payne while Pixie was talking, looking me earnestly in the face as she grabbed his hand from under the table.  At her touch, he stopped drawing, and he looked at me and nodded.

"It's true, mate.  Our funds have always been nonexistent, and the 'supply lines' are drying out.  The fuzz is on to us, see, and they keep haranguing us from up top about the destruction."

"What the fuck do they expect?  Lousy ingrates," I growled as I downed the rest of my pint.  I signaled to the saucy wench serving us, and she nodded and went to the bar to order me another dark brew from the taps.  "Listen, forget those fuckers, what does MI6 say, and not officially because I know better than that."

"MI6?  Who knows? Lost contact with them weeks ago.  We got one guy in the field, a Martin, I believe is handle is, who has been stationed in the back with some kid.  Martin's been directing most of the fight from his end, and he gets word now and again from up top through the channels we originally dealt with when this shit went down at the beginning of last year."

"Payne, that's rough, buddy, I'm sorry."  I paused as the waitress brought me my glass.  "Thanks, Babe, and put a flame under your cook, wouldja?" I winked at her and tipped her generously.  She nodded again and flounced off.

Keeping one eye on her and another on Payne, I asked gently, "Are the reports true?  Have the casualties gone up as much as they say?"

Payne struggled to meet my gaze, and then, angrily, he said, "Fuck yes they are true!  What the fuck do you want me from me?  I'm no hero, mate, I'm just doing what I can.  That's why we called you out here, that's why I got the military fucks to do their best and bring you down here without so much as a squeak.  We need your help.  Give us the formula."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I asked, not understanding.  "The formula for what?"

"The GAS, Roger!" Pixie said, answering for him—I noticed they do that a lot for each other.  "We NEED that GAS!"

"Sh sh sh sh," Payne reassured her, putting his arm behind her shoulders and leaning in, "it's alright, Luv, Roger doesn't know."

Payne leaned even closer in, this time grabbing my shoulder across the table so that I had to lean in close, too, to catch what he said, "That gas, my friend, it's the key.  I know it.  If you could just get us the formula—"

I sat back suddenly, breaking contact.  "Payne, I'm sorry, but, I think you're wrong.  That gas—it doesn't work well...it's, I don't know, it's only minimally effective."

Payne looked confused as I broke off physical contact and then, with my bad news, he sat back, looking defeated.  "Then all is lost, mate, and I'm not sure where to turn next."

Pixie wouldn't have any of that.  "Fuck this.  How do you know this formula's the best?  Maybe if some lab or scientist worked on it—maybe it's just a matter of fixing the recipe, or how it's used, or—"

She broke off, and although I thought the idea a catching one, I couldn't help but wonder.  We'd put America's finest on the job, and what we came up with seemed substandard—but then, and now something that Crazy Eddie had said to me, naught but days ago, seemed to ring a bell in the back of my head.

"Pixie, I think you might be right.  A friend of mine, with some insider information, told me that they put the gas 'in the wrong suits.' I thought he meant the camelbacks—the backpacks with gas chambers the footsoldiers put on to fight the beasties we have creeping up through the waterways...but maybe he meant the wrong gas was put in them."

Payne turned his head slowly in my direction, and our eyes met.

"Can you find out?"

I considered before answering.  "I sure as hell could try."

Pixie looked hopeful, and then tired.  She leaned her head on Payne's shoulder.  And then our food arrived.

Payne kissed her forehead and then took out his knife and fork, set to dig into his pork pie.  "Well, mate, I'd say let's eat, and then get on it."

I laughed and made ready to eat the fuck out of my own fish and chips.

[Cainad (dec.)]

Ok, I'm setting the next damned scene (shit, this could go MOVIE if we wanted it...which reminds me of a whole OTHER site I was on that was an MW offshoot--did any of you know I was part of a Pagan television show production company, via internet, back in the day?  I'd almost forgotten myself...).

EoC, Richter, anyone else--Cainad, Semaj, Hawk and Req--if I forgot your name, I'll ask permission anyway--anyone in this thread!!!--can I incorporate your characters into the Payne + Rog + Pixie scene?  I might have to mention ops.  I can make up names, but it might blend better if I use the ones already in play.

Absolutely. "Tom" is the only named character I created, but there's also the disaffected mental health counselor guy.