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  1. Wellwick|GM
  2. Machiavelli gripped the flashlight, that strange sensory pull dragging downwards, shifting slightly as he passed through the streets. He was pretty sure that it pointed to Sterro, the cape hiding in their tunnels beneath the surface.
  3. He was en route to pick up his lieutenants, hoping that he would come across them at his headquarters, the shattered glass of the inn that served as his current headquarters evident through the late morning sunlight.
  4.  
  5. Megiavelli
  6. Machiavelli approached with his hands folded behind his back, taking large, confident strides towards his base. The information he and Marco had picked up over the course of the day was very important indeed, and he would need to act on it quickly.
  7. That meant paying a visit to De Krachtstam, and he was not going to that without his entourage.
  8.  
  9. Wellwick|GM
  10. When he pushed through the front door, his eyes met with Richie, the scappy kid that Milo had brought along a few days ago. The look in his eyes- Machiavelli could already tell something was wrong. Richie had been crying, but his expression was steely, determined.
  11. "You- you're here?" Richie said, sounding more surprised than relieved.
  12. Machiavelli glanced across the booths, looking for the other three, only catching a flash of blonde hair flicking out from behind a booth.
  13. The door closed behind him, the wind cutting off and he could smell the change in the air. Acrid, like smoke had filled the room at some point, or something had been burning but he couldn't see any sign of a fire.
  14.  
  15. Megiavelli
  16. "I do apologise for being late," Machiavelli said, looking over his lieutenants, his brow furrowed with concern under his mask, "I had business to attend to. Is something the matter?"
  17.  
  18. Wellwick|GM
  19. "Move it!" Emma practically screeched from the booth, panicked, frightened. It was enough to get Richie hurrying back to her again, holding back tears as he tried to maintain that steel.
  20. "Milo," Richie said as he rushed to the booth, by way of answer to Machiavelli.
  21. When Machiavelli reached the booth, he understood the panicking. Milo was laid out on the centre of the table, Emma and Pico kneeling on the table with mounds of slush and stained wood around them.
  22. Milo himself was as white as a sheet, looking frighteningly dead, but it was his stomach which really drew the eye. Someone had removed his top and there was a blotchy red mess where it had seemingly be hacked open. Strange orange bubbles had formed along his skin near where his gut had been opened up, larger ones around the size of a table tennis ball filling in gaps in his stomach.
  23. Despite the horrifying mess, the blood that spooled out on the table, Milo was clearly still alive, groaning in pain as Emma shoved piles of snow onto the messy red-orange mess of his stomach. She was whispering, uttering in a sorrowful tone, "I'm sorry, so sorry, I know I shouldn't shout."
  24.  
  25. Megiavelli
  26. Someone had hurt Milo. Someone had hurt one of his people. This would not do.
  27. But finding out what had happened, who had done this, could come later. There was a far more important matter at hand: He needed a doctor, and Machiavelli certainly was not one.
  28. He had an idea where to find one, however, but he certainly was not going to risk taking Milo there with him, or, indeed, leave him behind here.
  29. He hurried over to Milo's side, gently taking his hand in his own. "Milo," he spoke, lowering his tone of voice, "I am sorry I did not get here sooner. We will get you help, you will be fine."
  30. He turned to the girl that saw herself as in charge of the group. "Emma, if I told you to find De Krachtstam, would you know where to go?"
  31.  
  32. Wellwick|GM
  33. "Where the hell have you been?" Pico said, making his voice deeper, angrier, sounding like a kid badly acting an adult part. He glared at Machiavelli for all of a half second before focusing on Milo, grabbing one of the balls of orange and pulling on it. It elicited something of a response from Milo, but it apparently wasn't as painful as what he had just been experiencing.
  34. The orb of orange broke free and Pico tossed it aside, barehanded, onto the booth where a mound of the orbs of various sizes were forming. There had to be at least fifty of them there, which begged the question of how long Milo had been laying like this, covered in these strange orange balls.
  35. Emma glanced up at Machiavelli, her arms slick with blood and the ends of hair dip dyed with blood. Her expression was frenzied, far from in control. It made Machiavelli uncomfortably aware that these were children, not capable of dealing with this sort of stress.
  36. "I-" she glanced back at the mess that was Milo. "I can find them. They're in the city centre?"
  37. Milo's hand gripped Machiavelli's, weaker than he would have liked.
  38.  
  39. Megiavelli
  40. He ignored Pico for now. He would concern himself with those matters in a moment. Emma needed him more right now. He nodded. "One block east of the church, yes. You will find them with a large crowd of refugees. Take Richie with you, bring a doctor back here, and explain there's a cape involved. Tell me if you understand."
  41. clear idea of what to do should help with her panicking, he reasoned.
  42.  
  43. Wellwick|GM
  44. She looked towards Milo, hesitant to leave. She responded nonetheless, almost subconsciously, her voice low. "I understand."
  45. Richie looked across the booth at her, then to Machiavelli. Milo groaned on the table again drawing everyone's attention.
  46.  
  47. Megiavelli
  48. ROLL: "Wits" [1] +1 = 2
  49.  
  50. Wellwick|GM
  51. Emma was sliding out of the booth now, her hands a mix of red and orange. She was cleaning her hands with snow, he fingers shivering, but there was still blood staining up to her elbow. She barely seemed to register it as she made to head out, shaking and holding back tears at what was happening to her friend.
  52. "We'll be back soon," she uttered quietly, directed to Milo. She grabbed Richie's hand, and with that the two of them were out the door, running.
  53.  
  54. Megiavelli
  55. "And be careful," Machiavelli called after them.
  56. He turned back to Milo and Pico, his voice serious. "I will answer any question you wish, but let's make sure Milo is as comfortable as he can be, first, agreed?"
  57. He looked the boy over carefully, staying away from the wound for now while he took off the coat of his costume to help keep the boy warm.
  58.  
  59. Wellwick|GM
  60. As if to contradict his wished, Pico grabbed another handful of snow and spread it over the orange lumps that were sprouting from Milo's stomach.
  61.  
  62. Megiavelli
  63. Apparently the children had discovered this helped, and he was not going to counteract it until he was sure what was going on. He gave Milo's hand another squeeze. "Breathe, Milo, you will be fine. Help is on the way."
  64. He kept his tone of voice as gentle as he could when he spoke to Pico. "Could you tell me what happened, Pico?"
  65.  
  66. Wellwick|GM
  67. Pico packed in another handful of snow which melted down immediately. Machiavelli noticed that the skin on Pico's hands weren't just tinged blue from cold but were also a little red, seemingly from burns. How was that possible?
  68. "He- Last night when we got home Milo was still feeling ill. Said his tummy hurt- said-" Pico looked away, blinking tears out of his eyes and grit his teeth. "Was like that the whole night. In the morning-"
  69. Pico closed his eyes, took a heavy breath, looked upwards to the ceiling. His hand bunched around another handful of snow, the bones in his fingers standing out as he strained to compact it more.
  70. "Richie was annoying Emma, tickling her, and she laughed- then screamed- and-" Pico looked back down at Milo's gut. "It just exploded, poured out. Whatever these things are," he looked towards the pile of orange balls, "they- they burn with sound. Loud things, especially with Emma."
  71.  
  72. Megiavelli
  73. Machiavelli was now very glad he'd told Emma to specify there were powers involved. And that he removed her from the situation. "And you have been pulling these... out of him?" he asked. Gentleness was not necessarily his forte, but he was going to have to adapt to a lot over the course of this plan, so he may as well get an early start.
  74. "How long have you been here?"
  75.  
  76. Wellwick|GM
  77. "Uhm, only a couple of-" Pico said, looking out the window, seemingly surprised it had gotten dark. He looked worse when he turned back to Machiavelli. "Since morning, we got him here cause we didn't know what to do. We had to get them out of him, they just keep growing."
  78.  
  79. Megiavelli
  80. He nodded. "And the snow? What does it do?"
  81.  
  82. Wellwick|GM
  83. Pico seemed a little confused at the question, his exhaustion from the last few hours showing. "I- It's hot, it burns and explodes. Milo said it burns- we thought the snow would help..." He suddenly seemed unsure of himself.
  84. "Helps," Milo said, a single word that seemed forced out, his voice strained but still quiet.
  85.  
  86. Megiavelli
  87. Machiavelli nodded gravely, taking his coat away again, holding his hand to Milo's forehead to check his temperature. "I am sorry I was so late, both of you," he said. "Will you forgive me?"
  88. He made sure not to use his power as he did so. He wasn't sure if he could use his power for those purposes, but he was not going to find out this way. He had standards.
  89.  
  90. Wellwick|GM
  91. Pico looked almost baffled at the question, then his face morphed to anger. "Is this your fault? Why is this happening to him?"
  92.  
  93. Megiavelli
  94. "Truthfully? I have no idea," he admitted. "I intend to find out soon, once we've handled Milo's condition. You have my word on that."
  95. "I am apologising for being late. There appears to be a war on the horizon, and I was looking to address it tonight, but this takes precedence."
  96.  
  97. Wellwick|GM
  98. "But how did he get it? In the tunnels?" Pico said, pulling at another one of the orbs, trying to get it free. He kept his voice low, something that likely came with hours of avoiding making too much noise and triggering the orange balls explosive tendencies. "Why wouldn't the rest of us have this? And why is it in his stomach?"
  99. Full of questions. Trying to distract himself? It was his best friend dying on the table.
  100.  
  101. Megiavelli
  102. ROLL: "Know" [5] (1) +1 = 6
  103.  
  104. Wellwick|GM
  105. Machiavelli's mind raced. Pico was right, Milo being uniquely ill here seemed to imply that it couldn't have been the tunnels. the stomach implied it was something he had eaten, but pretty much everything Milo had had to eat he had shared with either the other kids of Machiavelli.
  106. Yesterday they had split the food from the haul, but Milo had already been ill then, so it couldn't have been anything there. Machiavelli and Milo had gotten food together at the refugee camp together on the first night he had taken the boy out, but there hadn't been anything else-
  107. No, there had been something. They'd met Kuvu, the tinker. He'd given the boy candy, a lollipop, something he hadn't shared with the others.
  108. Machiavelli glanced at the orange orbs, thinking back to what Kuvu had been talking about, the ramblings of a tinker-
  109. "...lots of basic nutrients, soil should do, and heat, need energy."
  110.  
  111. Megiavelli
  112. Machiavelli's fingers twitched by his side as he remembered. "I know exactly who did this," he said, working to keep his voice level.
  113. His mind raced. How was he going to solve this particular mess? He would need to deal with the military over the war with Les Ailes at any rate, but they did not like him very much. He would have to use De Krachtstam as an intermediary on that front, as well.
  114. "I will address it soon after this is handled, but I am not leaving Milo's side until then."
  115.  
  116. Wellwick|GM
  117. Did the military know about this? It seemed unlikely, but then Kuvu had seemed somewhat reasonable. Why had he done this? There was no apparent motivation for attacking Milo like this.
  118. Milo coughed, the balls of sickly orange in his stomach moving, and Machiavelli realised they really had grown in the time Pico and him had been talking.
  119.  
  120. Megiavelli
  121. He was somewhat reluctant to touch any of those balls himself, but that's why he wore gloves. He gently tugged on one of those orbs, trying to pull it out without hurting the boy too much.
  122. ROLL: "I have a Brawn of Bad" [2] -1 = 1
  123.  
  124. Wellwick|GM
  125. They weren't very heavy at all, and they contracted some under his hands. About the softness of the skin that surrounded them, they were bound together with the same strange orange tissue which they were made of. He pulled, but sensed how it would pull and tear at the tissue around the orb and brought his hand away, hesitant to do too much damage to the boy.
  126. How far away were De Krachtstam? Five minutes, ten? Emma and Richie would be running, closing that distance in a shorter time frame, but how quickly would they be able to pull some people away? Milo gasped on the table, still in pain, and Pico inched closer, brushing his friend's hair out of his face.
  127.  
  128. Megiavelli
  129. Was there an orb nearer to the centre? Perhaps he could take one of those out of him with less hassle.
  130. ROLL: "Brawn is Still Bad" [1] -1 = 0
  131.  
  132. Wellwick|GM
  133. Machiavelli grabbed another in the middle of the mess of connected orbs, pulling at it again. He pulled at it with all his strength, tissue stretching and Milo yelled out in pain, a high pitched noise of agony. Pico dived backwards, already reacting, and Machiavelli could feel the heat growing in his hands in the split second that Milo yelled.
  134.  
  135. Megiavelli
  136. ROLL: "Ath is Also Bad" [2] -1 = 1
  137.  
  138. Wellwick|GM
  139. He pushed away from the booth, using his feet to kick out and give him more distance. The orb he had been holding and half a dozen around that one all detonated at once, bursting outwards in spray of orange and red ichor. Milo had already brought his hand up to his mouth biting down on it to avoid screaming in pain any more as the detonation tore into him.
  140. WOUND: [Leg] [Any 4] Oh God It Burns: Fire chemical sets in and continues burning. Subject rolls for another moderate wound at end of next turn unless quenched washed away (and continue to do so each round until problem is fixed). Suffer PAIN, affecting all rolls, while burning.
  141. The explosion blasted his body, the whole in his gut widening and the ichor landed on his legs, which Milo started thrashing around. Pico was on it in a moment, rubbing snow against the wound, clearly trying to neutralise the burns. Bleed leaked out of Milo, mingling into the ichor that sizzled out on the table.
  142. WOUND: [Torso] [Part] Winded: All lesser abilities with need for refreshers or a stamina cost are put on cooldown.
  143. WOUND: [Torso] [Any 3] Blistered: Additional lesser wound if not covered up.
  144. The blast knocked Machiavelli back, slamming him into the bar and knocking the wind out of him. He felt the burn on his chest, though his armour appeared to have eaten up some of the damage.
  145.  
  146. Megiavelli
  147. At least the impact prevented him from cursing and making things worse. He groaned a little, all the same, as he brushed the front of his costume and tried to gather his bearings, hoping Milo was alright.
  148.  
  149. Wellwick|GM
  150. The boy was drawing blood on his own hand as he bit down on it, stopping himself from screaming in pain. Pico was covering the boy in snow, running out on his supply. Pico glanced up at Machiavelli, pointed to the door, to the street covered in ice, a wordless instruction.
  151.  
  152. Megiavelli
  153. Machiavelli nodded and picked himself up, heading outside to scoop up as much snow as he could get his hands on.
  154.  
  155. Wellwick|GM
  156. He came back in a moment later, wind whipping behind him as he carried in an armful of snow, the cold and wet penetrating through the fabric of his clothes. He dumped it on the table beside Pico who immediately started hauling more snow onto the orbs.
  157. There was no judgement from Pico, like he might have expected. Judging from the state of Milo, it was easy to imagine they'd all made a mistake like that at some point.
  158. Another minute passed, Pico tending to Milo's burns. Eventually he went back to slowly plucking the orbs off of the boys body, but they had had time to reform, for more to appear, for the existing ones to grow larger. They were spreading.
  159. Would they spread onto the table if they left Milo here? Machiavelli glanced at the mound that was piling up in the booth, wondering whether they had found a way to attach themselves to the seat.
  160. What sort of tinker was Kuvu?
  161.  
  162. Megiavelli
  163. That would make even his headquarters compromised. Unfortunate. They seemed like they would serve as weapons, in a pinch, but he wasn't willing to rely on them in any sense. Best if the whole pile was destroyed as soon as he had the means to do so safely.
  164. For now, he allowed Pico to handle taking care of Milo, since he was clearly incapable of doing so, while he went over the damage to his costume, and see if something could be fixed before De Krachtstam arrived.
  165.  
  166. Wellwick|GM
  167. The detonation had burned through some of the fabric and his skin was exposed in just a few patchy spots, but for the most part he was okay. He shifted his coat and clothes around a little and found a way to hide the exposed skin.
  168. In a way, the look was helpful. Made it seem like he'd been dealing with this as long as the kids had been and it also made it clear that this was a serious issue.
  169. few more minutes passed, Pico amassing more of the orbs in the booth, barely making a dent in the quantity that populated Milo's gut. Machiavelli heard people approaching from outside and turned as Emma pushed through the door again.
  170. blonde woman, a man with a thick afro and the woman who had tended to Machiavelli's wounds a few days ago stepped into the room with Emma. Machiavelli vaguely recognised the other two as well, probably having spoken to them as well.
  171.  
  172. Megiavelli
  173. ROLL: "Know" [1] +1 = 2
  174. Machiavelli greeted them by putting a finger to his lips. Emma had no doubt informed them, but the reminder wouldn't go amiss. "Thank you for your prompt arrival," he told them. "Besides the obvious, he has sustained some burn wounds. I am unsure how to handle the main issue, but I believe I know the cause."
  175.  
  176. Wellwick|GM
  177. The three of them looked confused for but a moment before they turned towards the table and saw Milo splayed out. Emma gasped, like she had convinced herself it hadn't happened or something.
  178. "What the fuck is that?" the blonde woman said, looking a little sick at the sight of the poor boy.
  179.  
  180. Megiavelli
  181. "Truth be told, I have no clue," Machiavelli answered. "The orbs are growing out of his gut, and explode in response to loud noises. Pulling them away hurts him, but letting them grow is even worse. The only thing he has eaten that nobody else has is a piece of candy he received from Kuvu, so I believe that is the cause."
  182.  
  183. Wellwick|GM
  184. "Kuvu, the cape in the refugee camp?" the afro'd man asked. He kept his voice low. "Why would he-?"
  185. The medic cut across him. Machiavelli saw the tattoo on her neck as she peered at the boy. "You say those explode. Is it safe to get near him?"
  186.  
  187. Megiavelli
  188. "The only thing that has had that response is loud noises," he said, "you should be safe, otherwise, although I am unsure if they have any other negative effects."
  189. That should give them all the information they needed. He had other things to attend to. He kneeled down in front of Emma, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Are you feeling better?" he asked. "Could you tell me where Richie is?"
  190.  
  191. Wellwick|GM
  192. The medic nodded, moving towards Milo as Machiavelli spoke to Emma. The girl looked away from her wounded friend and said, "he's still at the camp. Trying to get others to come help. There were other, uhm, capes, but they- they're not-" she searched for the word. "They've found their friend. Brush."
  193. Emma looked back at Milo and soberingly said, "she's dead."
  194.  
  195. Megiavelli
  196. He nodded to her. "I'd heard, yes. It was one of the reasons I was planning to visit them tonight."
  197. "I do not think there is much I am able to do for Milo here, other than get in the way of those who know what they are doing, so I am considering going anyway, but I do not want to leave him here without any familiar faces."
  198. "You've been very courageous so far, today, Emma, and I am very proud of you. Would you like to stay here with him and Pico?"
  199.  
  200. Wellwick|GM
  201. "I-" she looked a little conflicted. "We don't have anywhere else to go. I'll stay, yes."
  202.  
  203. Megiavelli
  204. He smiled under his mask, even if she couldn't see it. "Very well."
  205. He stood back up to address the three Krachtstam-affiliates. "I will be going to visit De Krachtstam," he told them. "Tell me if there is anything you need from me before I go, and if there is anything specific you would like me to send back from the camp when I arrive."
  206. ROLL: "Wits" [4] +1 = 5
  207.  
  208. Wellwick|GM
  209. "We're going to need clean cloth, gauze, the lot," the medic said from beside Milo. "Antibiotics and something to keep him sedated would be good too." She kept her voice low enough that Machiavelli could only just pick it out from across the room.
  210. She was pulling out an IV bag and attaching it to Milo's wrist, giving an inflatable pillow to the blonde woman to blow up. She used some medical tools to shift the orbs around, trying to get to grips with what she was dealing with, but her focus was no longer remotely on Machiavelli.
  211.  
  212. Megiavelli
  213. Good. He like working with professionals. That left him with only one person to address. He beckoned Pico over. "Thank you for looking after Milo so far," he told him. "Now, listen to the medic and help her take good care of him, alright?"
  214.  
  215. Wellwick|GM
  216. "You're going? You going to get the person who did this?"
  217.  
  218. Megiavelli
  219. "I do not think I can do that on my own," Machiavelli said. "So I will be making some friends first, but yes, I will." With that, he turned around and walked outside, to get to De Krachstam.
  220.  
  221. Wellwick|GM
  222. The group were silent as Machiavelli left the headquarters the wind the only noise that greeted him when he stepped out into the night.
  223.  
  224. Megiavelli
  225. The damage to his costume made it colder than it would normally be, but that was simply something he would have to put up with as he made his trek towards the centre of the city. He would cover the damage with his arms to keep warm until he came within view of the refugee centre.
  226. Presentation was important, and it would hardly do to stand there shivering when he arrived.
  227. The sky was clear of snow, completely black.
  228.  
  229. Wellwick|GM
  230. There weren't many people on the street either, though Machiavelli had spotted soldiers out and about previously. He worked his way through the roads, aiming along a similar route to what Emma and Richie had just taken.
  231. It wasn't long before he came across the place he'd found De Krachtstam operating out of the other day. A couple of people were standing guard at the entrance, but they didn't react violently to him as he approached. Cautiously, sure, but not violently.
  232.  
  233. Megiavelli
  234. As he approached, he straightened up again, and clasped his hands behind his back once again. Confident, despite the damage. That was the important part.
  235. He nodded to the guards, stopping before them. "One of the children under my care is here, and I would like to speak to De Krachtstam," he announced. "I am Machiavelli, they should know that name."
  236.  
  237. Wellwick|GM
  238. They both eyes him suspiciously for a moment, but another shorter man called out from behind them, in amongst the other refugees. He had some dodgy looking sideburns, and Machiavelli felt like he recognized him, but couldn't put a name to the face.
  239. "He's alright, guys," the short man said, waving Machiavelli through. "Hey, Machiavelli. You really aren't coming at a great time."
  240. The two of them wandered a little further into the little setup that the refugees had in place, drawing a few look from the people nearby. The mood was noticeably sombre.
  241.  
  242. Megiavelli
  243. He walked by the man's side, surreptitiously looking around. "I heard," he answered. "I initially planned this visit to offer my condolences, but some things came up along the way."
  244. There were other initial reasons for his visit as well, and he was not particularly upset about Brush' death, since it removed the one barrier to interacting with De Krachtstam in a more direct fashion, but that did not mean condolences were not in order.
  245.  
  246. Wellwick|GM
  247. "I never met her," Sideburns said, "but the rest of her group- They're pretty torn up. Ready to go on the warpath."
  248.  
  249. Megiavelli
  250. "They are not the only ones," Machiavelli noted. "But before I meet them, I have a request. The medical emergency those two children came in for is rather serious, and the medic requested gauze, clean cloths, antibiotics and some sedatives."
  251.  
  252. Wellwick|GM
  253. "You're with them?" he asked. "Uh, let me track down some people, I'll get things out to them. The other kid is still around here somewhere, should be able to point us in the right direction."
  254. With that he hurried off, clearly seeing a dying kid as more important than shooting the breeze with Machiavelli. He was still getting looks from the people who were hanging out around the massive soup pots, but it didn't bother him much. He had things to be getting on with.
  255. He spotted the entryway to the building he'd found Stormvloed and Rank in the last time he had visited, a couple of people sitting nearby checking off supplies on a checklist. Flares, medical supplies.
  256. Ammo. Guns.
  257.  
  258. Megiavelli
  259. That was... concerning.
  260. The last thing this city needed was two simultaneous wars and, at the moment, one was a considerably more pressing matter than the other.
  261. Well, if he was to rule this city, he would have to show his competence at some point, so it may as well be now.
  262. New messages since you tabbed out He strode forward, into the building.
  263.  
  264. Wellwick|GM
  265. He got some looks as he wandered inside, but nobody stopped him. A little surprising, considering that De Krachtstam had already been attacked once, but perhaps nobody thought anybody would be stupid enough to walk into the lions den.
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