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  1. ined
  2. <tubes|GM> You get up out of bed. Ugh, you've got a headache. Must have slept funny. You're just feeling totally out of it this morning, but you can't remember why. You trudge through your usual motions, though your upper body is awfully sweaty and your lower awfully breezy. What was up with that? Must be something to do with this headache, and the numbness you feel in your face. You hope you haven't
  3. <tubes|GM> had a stroke or something in your sleep. You're walking over towards your kitchen to get a pot of coffee going, rubbing your face, when it hits you. You pull your hand off your face - it's covered in thick facepaint - and it all comes back to you, right as you walk into the living room. You tried to go out crimefighting drunk, You had to be helped into bed by Polar, you got so hammered, and to
  4. <tubes|GM> top it all off, you're not wearing any pants. Apparently you almost got your costume off. Almost. Aaaaaand he's still there on your couch, asleep. ||
  5. <Belaris|Click> Oh my god oh my god oH MY GOD OH MY-
  6. <Belaris|Click> Breathe. Breathe. It's gonna be ok. I do a quick check and sigh with relief. At least I'm not completely naked.
  7. <Belaris|Click> I lean down to grab a pair of pants, any pair, and freeze. I feel my stomach lurch up towards my mouth and dash for the bathroom, but thankfully nothing comes up.
  8. <Belaris|Click> I toss on the pants (thankfully they're the costume pants) and pour a glass of water from the tap, sipping away. That's what you were supposed to do for hangovers, right?
  9. <Belaris|Click> I contemplate the closed bathroom door, a sleeping Polar outside on /my chair/. I try to think about what to do about him but my brain just freezes up and defaults to fixing the face makeup. Maybe he'll just go away. ||
  10. <tubes|GM> You sit in your bathroom alternating between deep breaths and drinking water. It's helping the hangover, but it's really not helping with your other issues. Like, the random dude in your apartment, who apparently has clairvoyance of some kind. ||
  11. <Chrono|Polar> Eugh. Whos bed is this... This isn't even a bed. Oh, yeah. Crashing at Click's place. Right. Without asking. Wow, fuck me. Is she still smashed? "Ey, Click. You still out of it?" He says to the empty apartment. ||
  12. <Belaris|Click> ...
  13. <Belaris|Click> Oh. He's up. Shit.
  14. <Belaris|Click> "Um... no. I'm uh, not."
  15. <Chrono|Polar> "So what did we learn. Don't let Click make decisions smashed, and Polar makes a wonderful mom." Sitting up, making sure everything is in order with his costume, Polar streches and stands.
  16. <Belaris|Click> "Listen, um, I don't normally do that. Drinking, I mean."
  17. <Belaris|Click> ||
  18. <Chrono|Polar> "S'cool. If you're still up to it, we can go fuck someone up, now that you're less horribly intoxicated." ||
  19. <Belaris|Click> I brush my hair back roughly, tying it into a rough ponytail. An extremely rough ponytail.
  20. <Belaris|Click> "Yeah, we should. Do you mind, um... Well, what time is it?"
  21. <Belaris|Click> ||
  22. <Chrono|Polar> Looking around himself, and sending the Ghost on a short round of the aparment, Polar astutely deduces "Its just a bit past 10. Good time for hitting stashes" ||
  23. 16:46 <Belaris|Click> "Ok then." Ok then. Strange man in the apartment. No big deal.
  24. 16:47 <Belaris|Click> I stare at myself in the mirror. You can do it, he's not so scary. Just one guy. I bet you'd stomp him.
  25. 16:47 <Belaris|Click> I also notice the various stains on the bandanna, ew ew EW~
  26. 16:47 <Belaris|Click> I exit the bathroom, making a beeline for my go bag with spare bandannas and waving goodmorning to Polar when I see him. Bandanna affixed, I start brewing that coffee. â–’So yeah. Hitting stashes.â–’ ||
  27. 16:50 <Chr-n-|Polar> "Yeh. You can't go wrong with taking from those who have nowhere to secure it."
  28. 16:50 <~tubes|GM> Your nervousness is showing. Not literally, but you can feel bits and pieces of you shift and rearrange. Some internally. It's a rather unpleasant sensation, and your aura kicks in at a dull buzz. ||
  29. 16:50 <Chr-n-|Polar> "Only question is where they keep it, and how to liberate it. You got any good leads, around here?" ||
  30. 16:51 <Belaris|Click> ...
  31. 16:55 <Belaris|Click> I busy myself with the coffee making, the routine keeping my focus away from Polar. "There's a gang of racist pricks, hang out on a street corner not far from here when they don't have much better to do. I was sizing them up for when I was going to expand Vigilant territory, but..." I resolutely do not think about the bakery burning down.
  32. 16:56 <Belaris|Click> Dump out the filter. Toss in another paper filter. Two scoops of grounds.
  33. 16:58 <Belaris|Click> ((Replace "street corner" with "house"))
  34. 16:59 <Belaris|Click> "They get drunk and beat on black people. Easy to make an example of. Hey, you want any coffee?" Calm, cool, and collected, that's me. Please no antennae... ||
  35. 17:02 <Chr-n-|Polar> "No, I don't drink coffee. Racists are good. Negative trait, looks bad to defend them, centralized power, easy to knock over. Stash houses are best, easy cash, but roughing up a group can be easy enough." ||
  36. 17:04 <-- Chr-n-|Polar (Chrono@dlp-D9F4C3DD.dsl.bell.ca) has quit (Quit: http://www.kiwiirc.com/ - A hand crafted IRC client)
  37. 17:05 --> Chr-n-|Polar (Chr-n-Pola@dlp-D9F4C3DD.dsl.bell.ca) has joined #WDDallas
  38. 17:06 <Belaris|Click> ...
  39. 17:10 <Belaris|Click> Add water to the reservoir. Rinse out the pot. Push the start button.
  40. 17:12 <Belaris|Click> I finally turn back to him, now that the coffee no longer provides an excuse to look away. "So, how do you want to run this? We can't go in together. I can't target the fear, and I can't power up without it either." ||
  41. 17:16 <Chr-n-|Polar> "I would like to say I remain master of my emotions, but present company has made me reconsider. I'll recon, see what I can see, learn what I can learn, then you'll go in, rough some people up, smash some grabs, and we'll leave like kings or like criminals, depending on who wins. " ||
  42. 17:24 <Belaris|Click> I fidget with the coffee cup, biting my lip as I think. "O...kay. That could work. Do we want to propose the deal to them? Like no beating people up and give us money and we won't evict you, or what?" ||
  43. 17:26 <Chr-n-|Polar> "A show of force may be more effective than the threat of it, but considering you're power directly applies to it, and mine is not a tangible effect, it'll be decided in the field." ||
  44. 17:34 <Belaris|Click> I screw my eyebrows together in consternation, silently mouthing what he said in an attempt to parse it. "So... no?"
  45. 17:34 <Belaris|Click> The coffee drips. Drip. Drip. Drip. ||
  46. 17:36 <Chr-n-|Polar> "Maybe, I mean. They'll either be cowed by your power on full force, or they'll react disfavourably, and we'll have to deal with it. Probably with arrows and bruises." ||
  47. 17:40 <Belaris|Click> My eyebrows stay together. "So we /do/ open with the offer? We've gotta open with something, I'm not just gonna stand there."
  48. 17:41 <Belaris|Click> I look longingly at the coffee, but there's not enough yet to justify pouring a cup. I can't think in the morning without coffee.
  49. 17:41 <Belaris|Click> I idly snack on a slightly stale loaf of bread to pass the time. ||
  50. 17:44 <Chr-n-|Polar> "We won't be having them under our protection, but we're not gonna be outright flensing them, either. I'm not looking to make a long term exchange with this group; more to dissipate them and collect the winnings." ||
  51. 17:54 <Belaris|Click> Impatiently, I snatch the pot out and pour a measly half cup, blowing on it to get it cool enough to drink.
  52. 17:55 <Belaris|Click> "Smash and grab, got it. How much do we care about hurting people?" ||
  53. 17:56 <Chr-n-|Polar> "They won't, so we don't. Maybe hold a pair to rough up for information on how to get to their cash, if its simple enough. Again, depends on if they shoot in fear, of just piss themselves." ||
  54. 18:06 -- Belaris|phone is now known as Bel|Click
  55. 18:07 <Bel|Click> I swig down the coffee in two gulps. Not enough, but it'd do.
  56. 18:09 <Bel|Click> "Alright. You want to head out, do some recon?" I write down the address on a piece of paper towel and pass it to him. "Text me when you're done and with a place to meet, tell me what you got?"
  57. 18:09 <Bel|Click> That'd give me a chance to chug down some more coffee, maybe get a real breakfast and start forgetting he'd seen me with no pants. ||
  58. 18:14 <Chr-n-|Polar> "Yeah." Grabbing his bow and the address, Polar leaves the apartment, heading towards the address. ||
  59. 18:14 <~tubes|GM> You arrive at the place. The place was rather hard to miss, considering the number of jacked up trucks sitting outside. ||
  60. 18:18 <Chr-n-|Polar> "Classy" Polar mutters, walking past it, to a street away, and sending the ghost to recon the building, noting the number and inclination of people, and more importantly, loots. ||
  61. 18:19 <~tubes|GM> ...
  62. 18:26 <~tubes|GM> They're in there watching football, not really doing anything. "RONDA!" one of the men yells, "BRING THEM CHICKEN WINGS, WE'RE ABOUT TO MAKE A COMEBACK!". She yells back with equal gusto "I'M YER WIFE DARREL, NOT YOUR NIGRA. THEY'LL BE DONE WHEN THEY'RE DONE!". You note a large living room with 6 men in it. They're watching football on a pretty nice TV, what looks to be the most expensive
  63. 18:26 <~tubes|GM> appliance in the house. One woman is in the kitchen, popping back and forth between watching the game and checking on the food, and another is in a bathroom, doing her business. You note bulges in the pockets and shirts of several men that would likely indicate pistols, as well as one on the table, and a shotgun on the wall. An open safe in a closet has a variety of weapons in it, mostly
  64. 18:26 <~tubes|GM> hunting-types but some that might be more useful in a gunfight. You don't see much in the way of loot, though there's a big safe upstairs. You can clip into it, but with no light, you can't tell what's inside. ||
  65. 18:34 <Chr-n-|Polar> Texting Click to inquire as to her status of bullet vulnerability with his real senses, Polar looks for any fire-extinguishers or pressurized canisters. Particularly stocks of ammunition, as well. ||
  66. 18:36 <~tubes|GM> They've got a fire extinguisher in the kitchen, and some propane tanks in the back room near the gun safe. You don't think you're really supposed to store those inside, but whatever. The safe is chock full of ammunition of every type. ||
  67. 18:39 <Bel|Click> I hold the loaf of bread in my mouth to free up both hands to reply. "Kinda? How much firepower?" Better not be rocket launchers or shit like that. I drum my fingers on the counter nervously, tearing another hunk out of the loaf. ||
  68. 18:44 <Chr-n-|Polar> 'Pistols at least, rifles at most'. Pulling the ghost under the sink and freezing the water trap, then pulling back to the main room, keeping an eye on the group of guys. 'About 7 people, at least 1 noncombatant in that, maybe more. We're going fear tactic. Meet up with me.' ||
  69. 18:55 <Bel|Click> 'Sure, where at? Gimme an alley'. I grab the go bag and toss back the coffee in my cup, then start walking towards the house. With any luck, this'd be a piece of cake. ||
  70. 19:01 <-- Belaris|Click (Belaris@dlp-945E2F02.try.wideopenwest.com) has quit (Ping timeout: 182 seconds)
  71. 19:01 --> Belaris|Click (Belaris@dlp-945E2F02.try.wideopenwest.com) has joined #WDDallas
  72. 19:02 <Chr-n-|Polar> Giving Click a crossroads nearby, Polar waits for Click, ghosting around the house, looking to eke a fourth freeze into main water lines in the basement or where they attach to the house. ||
  73. 19:06 --> panth (3c369389@dlp-2F212AF1.mibbit.com) has joined #WDDallas
  74. 19:09 <~tubes|GM> ...
  75. 19:15 -- Belaris|Click is now known as Belaris|Dags
  76. 19:19 <~tubes|GM> It seems that they've noticed that SOMETHING is wrong with the water. The housewife, Ronda, apparently, goes to turn on the water, only for nothing to come out. She checks under the sink, and sees that the pipe has cracked from the flash-freeze, though thanks to hot water coming in from outside of the house in the texas heat, it's already melted. "Aw, shit" she mumbles. "DARREL! PIPE'S FUCKED
  77. 19:19 <~tubes|GM> AGAIN!" "GOD DAMN IT WOMAN, I'M IN THE MIDDLE OF THE GAME!" "WELL YOU'RE GONNA BE IN THE MIDDLE OF A LAKE IF YOU DON'T TURN THE DAG-BLASTED WATER OFF!". The man grumbles to himself, but gets up and goes to turn off the water under the sink. At this point, the woman in the bathroom comes out. She's rather more soft-spoken than the two apparent hosts. "Darrel? Ronda? I don't mean to be a bother,
  78. 19:19 <~tubes|GM> but it seems the water in the bathroom has gone out." The "Ronda" woman gets visibly upset at this. "Damn it Darrel, I told you that spic plumber was no good. You said their type was okay long as they had a job, well just cause they got jobs don't mean they can do 'em right!" ||
  79. 19:25 <Bel|Click> ...
  80. 19:26 <Bel|Click> I come up to the alley where Polar said to be, spotting him back a ways from the street staring into nothing. Thinkers. I shiver.
  81. 19:28 <Bel|Click> I sidle up next to him, trying to lean against the wall and make it look natural. "So... What's the house look like? Good shot to take?" ||
  82. 19:34 <Chr-n-|Polar> "Loads of weaponry, more than they can use. Its either a stockpile for a larger group or guns are just what they're into." Polar says. looking up at Click. "Crank the aura, knock on the door and throw out a speech about how 'we've taken notice, and dont like their kind around these parts'. I'll trust your judgement. Guys are packing heat, more bull
  83. 19:34 <Chr-n-|Polar> ets in the safe, at least two that probably won't give you a problem, if the guns cave. Don't hurt 'em too badly. If the lights go out, bail." ||
  84. 19:41 <Bel|Click> ...
  85. 19:45 <Bel|Click> I raise an eyebrow at that. "If the lights go out, huh? One of these days, you'll hafta tell me what it is you do." I push off the wall, walking up to the front door, going over the plan I'd come up with walking over. Short, sweet, and to the point.
  86. 19:46 <Bel|Click> As an afterthought, I stash the go bag behind a dumpster in a nearby alley, then proceed to the door.
  87. 19:52 <Bel|Click> As I walk, I focus the fight ahead, on what I need. Thick chitin for protection. Long, beefy limbs for striking power and strength. Compound eyes to see the whole fight. I begin my transformation, timed so that I'll still be able to talk when I reach the door. ||
  88. 20:08 <Bel|Click> *focus on the
  89. 20:12 <~tubes|GM> ...
  90. 20:30 <~tubes|GM> As Click cranks her power up to maximum a shudder and a shiver goes through everyone nearby. Run. Fly. Flee. Fight or flight, decide now, and flight is the smart option. A slither goes up the spine of everyone in range, nestling in that animal part of your brain that says you need to leave or die. Polar feels an overwhelming urge to flee and watch from a safe distance. You've got enough,
  91. 20:30 <~tubes|GM> range, right? She'll probably be fine, right? Though you're not exactly sure how her power works, whatever the hell it is she's doing is telling you to get the fuck out. He can see the rednecks inside start, and start to panic as well. They're looking around, at each other and all over as they try to determine the cause of the alien sensation. The soft spoken woman runs back to the bathroom
  92. 20:30 <~tubes|GM> and locks herself inside. The woman in the kitchen reaches for an uncessairly sharp cleaver. One man starts grabbing for his car keys, while another repeatedly racks his pistol, seemingly unaware that he's just ejecting unused shells onto the ground. Three of the men, sweating, shaking, nonethless hold themselves together dispite the utter terror infesting them. Two of them run back to the gun
  93. 20:30 <~tubes|GM> rack, while clones begin to step off those still in the room, assembling next to the man who was called "Darrel", who has his fists clenched so tight his nails are starting to cut into his palms. Looks like he, or at least someone in the house, is a cape. The copy of the wife has a cleaver, and the copy of the nervous man has a gun, though he's not wasting the bullets like the original.
  94. 20:36 <~tubes|GM> For click, it's an entirely different story. The rush of sensation is overwhelming as her power alters her body to some alien, lovecraftian physiology. Pain, pleasure, new smells, shocks, cracks, all rush through her, nearly unbearbly as her body changes at a rapid pace. Chitin emerges, spreading like a wave down her arms and body, thick, armored, angled to deflect blows. Cracks and pustules
  95. 20:36 <~tubes|GM> emerge on her back and shoulders as pores open down her front and arms, venting ooze, acid and poison, gleaming on your new carapace. Muscular gaps appear on your shoulders, and you feel powerful contractions ripple through them shortly before more pustules and sacs grow within. Your eyes shift, spread, your vision doubling, then redoubling, then assembling into a coherent whole as colors blur
  96. 20:36 <~tubes|GM> and spread, taking on strange tones and odd harmonics. The light is bright, almost too bright, and you can see flashes of silver at the edges of your vision. Your legs crack, break, and triple as fur spreads up your legs and torso, nearly sharp in it's quality, interspersed with lighter chitin, and suddenly your vision is boosted up a foot as you raise up on your new set of 6 legs. A shudder
  97. 20:36 <~tubes|GM> runs through you again as the changes settle into place, and new urges and thoughts run through your head. The power...you feel good. Too good. Time to hunt. You hoped the guys inside put up a good fight. ||
  98. 20:42 -- soulpelt| is now known as soulpelt|sleep
  99. 20:45 <Bel|Click> I... skitter? Is that the right word for it? I skitter up to the door, flexing my arms and looking around, trying to get my bearings with the new vision.
  100. 20:46 <Bel|Click> I pound on it with a fist, trying to get a measure of how strong I am. If it doesn't cave, I'll give it a kick, then a blast of acid.
  101. 20:46 <Bel|Click> I bare my teeth in a feral grin, growling with excitement. A good hunt today. ||
  102. 20:55 <~tubes|GM> There's a crack as your armored knuckles sink a half inch into the wood of the door every time you knock. You're stronger than you usually are, from what you can tell, but that's not much saying much. The armor and sharp bits lends them extra weight, however, and there's a resounding thud and a minor crack every time you knock.
  103. 20:56 <~tubes|GM> Polar sees the two hosts glance at each other, and one of the clones moves to open the door. The two men who went back to the gun locker are present and armed, one armed with what looks to be a shotgun and the other an assault rifle-looking thing of some kind. The nervous man with the gun has run out of bullets and is crying in the corner, and the man who went with his car keys is trying to
  104. 20:56 <~tubes|GM> get out the back door. As the clone with the pistol reaches the door, Click hears a woman shout through the door. "NOT RECIEVING VISITORS TODAY. FUCK OFF." ||
  105. 20:59 <Chr-n-|Polar> Keeping an eye on the guy trying to escape out the back, Polar looks for anything that takes keys out back, before coming back into the room and freezing the shotgun and the rifle far below 0, frost creeping along the metal, fouling the mechanisms. ||
  106. 21:05 <~tubes|GM> Polar attempts to freeze the guns and foul them up, but the strain is too much after his recent couple of attempts, and his double vision snaps back to a single set of eyes, with a sharp stabbing pain in his forehead and sparks in his vision. ||
  107. 21:07 <Bel|Click> I wind up, twisting on my legs a bit. I growl, "Good thing I'm not visiting"
  108. 21:08 <Bel|Click> ," and launch as heavy a haymaker as I can manage at the door, right by the handle. ||
  109. 21:10 <~tubes|GM> The wood near the handle shatters into splinters and the door swings open. ||
  110. 21:13 <Bel|Click> I step inside the threshold, head swiveling to take in the scene. "I am with Vigilant. My name is Click. Leave Dallas or die."
  111. 21:14 <Bel|Click> There's my plan. Essence of simplicity. Get fucked. ||
  112. 21:25 <~tubes|GM> you take in the scene with your enhanced vision. There's the woman with the cleaver, A man standing, point a pistol at the door, a man with a shotgun, and a man with a black assault-rifle type weapon, and another man with a pistol. The apparent original copy of the last man is crying in the corner. The clones, or whatever they are, are lacking something in your ehanced vision, some upper
  113. 21:25 <~tubes|GM> wavelength, so at least you can tell them apart. They're all shaking and blanched, and the apparent leader has blood on his hands from clenching them steady, though he's got his pistosl up right now. All the guns are pointed at you. "Leave? Fuck you. We live here. Now I can tell you're obviously some little girl way over her head, and I don't like killin' white folk, so i'll give you 5 seconds
  114. 21:25 <~tubes|GM> to get the fuck out of my house before my pals and I fill you full of lead, as is my god-given right. ||
  115. 21:28 <Bel|Click> I take the opportunity to change more. Damn it felt good to not hold back, not be afraid of it. "So be it."
  116. 21:30 <Bel|Click> I grin, then launch acid in an arcing spray towards their legs, ready to jump outside and behind the doorframe. ||
  117. 21:36 <Chr-n-|Polar> Sending the ghost back to the house, Polar peers at Click, staring down more guns than Polar is comfortable being in a room with. 'Hope shes not bluffing about being bulletproof'. The ghost flies on, looking for the guy that attempted to sneak out back. ||
  118. 21:42 <~tubes|GM> You launch acid and venom pustules in an arc at the legs of the the rednecks, but the strange, rippling muscle contractions you have to use to fire them are too alien for you to handle on your first shot, and you miss, the acid splattering and steaming on the floor. The assemebled gang in front of you looks at the projectiles on the floor, having seemingly emerged out of nowhere from your
  119. 21:42 <~tubes|GM> normal form, to them, furrow their brows, and move to open fire. The Leader, the one who told you to fuck off, instead of shooting, adapts a look of concentration as a clone of your normal self steps off of you, and turns to fight you. The added clones charge you, and you manage to skitter out of the way of the open doorframe they're shooting at, though one of your legs goes numb as a glancing
  120. 21:42 <~tubes|GM> shot deflects off your carapace. Polar finds no signs of the escapee. ||
  121. 21:47 <~tubes|GM> ...
  122. 21:51 <~tubes|GM> Facing a sudden hail of gunfire, your power reacts. As you dodge out of the way, your center of gravity drops as your legs widen and lower. Your shoulders sink, and your carapace thickens even more, especially in the front, and you lose the previously gained foot of height as your torso compacts. You gain a crown of armor, and your face begins to grow a chitnous exoskeleton as well. ||
  123. 21:58 <Belaris|Dags> I turn, hissing, and raise my armored fists in a pseudo-boxing pose to protect my face. I launch more venom at the bodies clustering around the doorway, then circle around, staying low and looking for a side door or unwatched window to enter. ||
  124. 22:02 <Chr-n-|Polar> 'Guns don't touch her, sprinting crouch is weird, though.' Pulling himself together, Polar sends his ghost to find the escapee, readies his bow, and begins to walk towards the house, intending to stop down the road from it. ||
  125. 22:07 <~tubes|GM> You send bundles of your little bomblets into the mass of clones at the door trying to catch you. Their press is keeping you from getting shot at, and the spray hits all of them. They go down screaming in horrible agony, rolling around on the floor as the venom touches their skin. Polar still sees no signs of the escapee. One of the trucks that was in the driveway when you arrived is gone. ||
  126. 22:11 <-- Star-Raven (SR@D0E1B3A8.ED83BC8A.E440612A.IP) has quit (Ping timeout: 184 seconds)
  127. 22:20 <Bel|Click> I skitter around the side of the house, looking for a way in not watched by guns. I might be bulletproof, but I might not. Not worth the risk.
  128. 22:20 <Bel|Click> Taking a chance, I shift deeper into the transformation. I need more POWER. ||
  129. 22:22 <Chr-n-|Polar> Noting the lack of car, Polar sweeps his ghost around his range limit, looking for it leaving. Shit shit. ||
  130. 22:25 <~tubes|GM> You reach into your power again, and shift yet again, the joints in your legs shifting and changing as they increase in mobility and flexbility. It's not quite power, but you're more agile than you were before. As you pitter-patter your way over to the side of the house, another gang of clones runs out the door, and they fan out. The Leader steps out behind them, looking, and shouts back
  131. 22:25 <~tubes|GM> "CAN'T YOU FEEL THAT? THE BITCH IS STILL HERE!" He fires a gunshot in the air to punctuate his last words. Polar spots a jacked up truck, a block over, doing something like 90. Looks pretty similar in style to the ones still parked at the house. ||
  132. 22:29 <Belaris|Dags> ...
  133. 22:32 -- Belaris|Dags is now known as Belaris|Click
  134. 22:32 <Belaris|Click> As I round the corner of the house, I fire one last salvo at the Leader, hoping to take him out of commission. Then, I head around, looking to surprise the others inside. ||
  135. 22:32 -- Belaris|Click is now known as Belaris|Dags
  136. 22:38 <Chr-n-|Polar> Polar sifts through the house with his Ghost, looking for changes. Looking for strangers, looking for something that could hurt him or Click. ||
  137. 22:43 <~tubes|GM> Click nails the Leader, and he goes down screaming. The clones stand their and stare at him blankly as he writhes in agony on the ground. She makes her way to the back door and tries the handle. It's unlocked.
  138. 22:43 <~tubes|GM> The cowardly man has managed to work himself over to the bathroom that the other woman locked herself in, apparently his wife. The rest of the rednecks are muttering to each other, glancing at the door that the leader walked out of, glancing furtivley at the shadows, caressing their weapons. They hear the scream from the guy Click hit, and all snap to the door staring, shaking. Click's fear
  139. 22:43 <~tubes|GM> aura appears to be taking it's toll, and they're shaking as the apparent parahuman among them has just walked out the door and gone down screaming. "Didja see that bitch?" One of them says. "Quicker'n greased lightning" says another. "Took that funny pose and danced to the side like it was nothin'." "I reckon she's a government ninja o' some kinda. That Vigilant bullshit is some new psyops
  140. 22:43 <~tubes|GM> program." ||
  141. 22:48 <-- Chr-n-|Polar (Chr-n-Pola@dlp-D9F4C3DD.dsl.bell.ca) has quit (Quit: http://www.kiwiirc.com/ - A hand crafted IRC client)
  142. 22:51 -- Belaris|Dags is now known as Belaris|Click
  143. 22:52 <Belaris|Click> I smirk to myself. Government ninja, huh? I cast around me, looking for something to carry to hit them with so that I don't have to expose myself. Bludgeon in hand, I'll charge in swinging. ||
  144. 22:56 <-- Violaine (uid77004@dlp-E7C05D3D.brockwell.irccloud.com) has quit (Quit: Connection closed for inactivity)
  145. 22:57 <~tubes|GM> There's a shovel on the ground next a hole and some posts. Half finished fence, by the looks of it. ||
  146. 23:01 <Belaris|Click> Perfect. I pick it up by the handle and burst in the back door while the group is focused on the front, where Dear Leader fell. I sprint at them and lay about with the shovel, trusting my agility and chitin to protect me. ||
  147. 23:01 -- Belaris|Click is now known as Belaris|Dags
  148. 23:08 --> Star-Raven (SR@dlp-56F50DBE.lns3.win.bigpond.net.au) has joined #WDDallas
  149. 23:09 <~tubes|GM> You charge, your enhanced mobility closing the gap with ease. By the time they hear you, it's too late, and the man with the rifle is unable to get it around in time before you brain him with the shovel. The second man with the shotgun brings it around, but before he can get a blast off, you knock the barrel away. The blast is deafening indoors, and the woman with the cleaver charges you,
  150. 23:09 <~tubes|GM> screaming incoherently. The man with the rifle is hardier than he looks , and he brings up his rifle as a club as he gets up, swinging it at your back. With your enhanced agility and armor it does little more than knock you forward a little towards the charging woman and the man with the shotgun, and you smell burning plastic as it makes contact with the caustic ooze on your carapace. ||
  151. 23:18 <Belaris|Dags> I swing the shovel down with both hands on the man with the shotgun's head, then pivot and swing the shovel like a baseball bat to deal with the man with the rifle. If the woman with the knife is too close at this point, I jump towards rifle man so he can't get a shot and defend myself with the shovel. ||
  152. 23:29 <~tubes|GM> You bring your shovel down and ring the man's bell, and he collapses, boneless. You pivot, managing to keep most of your momentum, and bring the flat part of the shovel directly into the stomach of the rifleman, and he goes down with a whump as the air leaves him, dropping his half-melted weapon. You're too slow on your (many) feet to get back to the third threat after dealing with the first
  153. 23:29 <~tubes|GM> two, however and there's a thunk as the woman sinks her cleaver into the armor into your back. ||
  154. 23:32 <Belaris|Dags> I hiss in displeasure, twisting around to deny her the knife and bring the shovel up to collide with her face. ||
  155. 23:33 <~tubes|GM> You swing and miss, going clear over her head as she falls over on her ass, sitting there, dumbstruck, making incoherent noises. Staring at you. ||
  156. 23:37 <Belaris|Dags> I turn back to the man with the rifle, hitting him in the torso once more with the shovel. Then I turn back to the woman. "Take these two," I force out, backing away slightly, "and leave. Now." ||
  157. 23:39 <~tubes|GM> The man gives out another whump as you hit him in the stomach again, and he lies there whimpering. The other guy is breathing, at least. The woman continues to mutter as she crawls backwards on her hands towards the door, ignoring your instructions. You think you hear the words "government bug". ||
  158. 23:41 <Belaris|Dags> Paranoid racist no-good country bumpkin...
  159. 23:42 <-- panth (3c369389@dlp-2F212AF1.mibbit.com) has quit (Quit: http://www.mibbit.com ajax IRC Client)
  160. 23:43 <Belaris|Dags> I grab the two men by their shirt collars, all but throwing them at her feet. "Take them and LEAVE!" ||
  161. 23:44 <~tubes|GM> The woman startles at your yelling, which comes out with added rasping and clicking.
  162. 23:45 <~tubes|GM> She scrambles to her feet and bolts, tripping over her husband in the yard, who appears to have passed out from the pain, though looks otherwise okay. You see her round the corner, not slowing, and then lose sight of her. ||
  163. 23:47 <~tubes|GM> She scrambles to her feet and bolts, tripping over her husband in the yard, who appears to have passed out from the pain, though looks otherwise okay. You see her round the corner, not slowing, and then lose sight of her. ||
  164. 15:02 <Chrono|Polar> Noting the escaping and/or horrified civvie, Polar moves back towards the house, to meet up with Click, instead sweeping the ghost around to look for anyone new showing up to the house. ||
  165. 15:06 <Belaris|Click> I grab the two unconscious or immobilized thugs and drag them out front to the walk, next to where Leader went down. After dropping them off, I head up to the second floor, methodically sweeping for anyone left. ||
  166. 15:11 <Chrono|Polar> Doing a sweep around the perimeter of his range, Polar walks up to the house, to where Click is pulling bodies out to the street. "Cut down on the fear, if everythings all clear." Following her into the house, he continues. "Munitions in the safe, worth grabbing. See anything else shiny, grab it. We're torching this place as a message, then." ||
  167. 15:12 <Belaris|Click> I grunt as I ascend the stairs. "Is it clear? You tell me." Still high on the combat adrenaline, charging ahead. ||
  168. 15:17 <Chrono|Polar> Nobody but us. Unless someone fits in the safe upstairs, we're alone. One safe of munitions in the back, another one upstairs, you clear out the down-stairs, grab whatever looks valuable. I'll check out the upstairs safe." ||
  169. 15:18 --> persephone (persephone@dlp-865E9F59.lsu.edu) has joined #WDDallas
  170. 15:19 <Chrono|Polar> (Redacted)
  171. 15:22 <Chrono|Polar> "One the bathroom, doesn't look like trouble, Locked safe upstairs if you want to take a crack at it. Safe full of munitions in the back, I'll give it a once over, grab the valuables." ||
  172. 15:25 <Belaris|Click> "They're gonna be a problem if we burn this place down." I look for closed doors upstairs and beat them down with one hand, shovel at the ready in the other. ||
  173. 15:31 <Chrono|Polar> Nodding to Click, Polar heads back down stairs, to ransack the gun stash in the safe at the back. ||
  174. 15:36 --> Antioch (Antioch@dlp-BD8C6F08.lightspeed.brhmal.sbcglobal.net) has joined #WDDallas
  175. 15:39 <~tubes|GM> Click finds herself upstairs in the master bedroom, with the stairs apparently leading straight into it. There's a nice-looking queen bed, with what looks to be a walk in closet on the left and a large-ish bathroom on the right. There's a medium-sized safe in the corner of the room. ||
  176. 15:47 --> Star-Raven (WHYAREALLO@D0E1B3A8.ED83BC8A.E440612A.IP) has joined #WDDallas
  177. 15:55 <~tubes|GM> The gun safe is open, thanks to them weaponing up to fight click. Inside, you find what looks to be an AR-series assault rifle,a hunting rifle of some kind with a nice scope on it, a revolver, 3 semi-automatic pistols, and two shotguns, along with ammo for all of them. ||
  178. 15:58 <Belaris|Click> I peek in the bathroom and closet to make sure no one's hidden away, then check the safe. If it's too heavy to carry away, I'll have to see if acid can melt the door. ||
  179. 16:03 <~tubes|GM> You strain, and lift with your legs as they say (which is quite a lot, considering you have 4) but it's just too awkward and heavy to solo. ||
  180. 16:07 <Belaris|Click> I back away with a sigh, then concentrate. I wipe some of the dribbling acid from my torso and try to apply enough to the side of the safe to make a hole to see what is inside. ||
  181. 16:10 <~tubes|GM> With repeated application to the same spot, the acid eats through, and by working it a bit, you manage to get a tiny hole in the safe wall. It'd take a pretty long time to make it big enough to get everything out though. ||
  182. 16:13 <Belaris|Click> I need more acid, but I can't just shoot the safe, or it could melt through and ruin whatever's inside...
  183. 16:14 <Belaris|Click> I run into the bathroom and fire a volley of acid into the ceramic sink, then scoop up a handful of the gunk and run back to smear it all over the side of the safe. ||
  184. 16:16 <~tubes|GM> It does nothing. It looks like whatever you're shooting isn't the same as whats on your carapace. ||
  185. 16:20 <Belaris|Click> Last ditch effort. I crouch down and rub my back against the front of the safe. Hopefully the front will come off quicker if it's straight from the source.
  186. 16:20 <Belaris|Click> ||
  187. 16:24 <~tubes|GM> it's eating through, but not very quickly. It's just on too wide of an area as it eats through the layers of metal and insulation. ||
  188. 16:28 <Belaris|Click> I keep going, calling out as I do. "Hey Polar, come up here real quick. And bring a bag." If we're gonna get out of here in time, we're going to have to pick up the pace. ||
  189. 16:38 <Chrono|Polar> Coming back upstairs, Polar grabs a bag, shaking it out before he reaches Click. ||
  190. 16:42 <Belaris|Click> ...
  191. 16:44 -- Antioch is now known as Antioch|cleaning
  192. 16:47 <Belaris|Click> I look up, not stopping rubbing the acid on the safe. "Top floor's clear, but the safe's too heavy for me to lift. I'm wearing away at it, but it takes time, and I'm not sure we have all the time for it. I figure you set the place up to burn, leave me a bag, and I'll light it up and head out as soon as I've got this open. Sound good?"
  193. 16:47 <Belaris|Click> ||
  194. 16:48 <~tubes|GM> You hear sirens in the distance. ||
  195. 16:50 <Belaris|Click> I turn and give the front of the safe a few test punches to see if I'm almost through, then keep applying acid. ||
  196. 16:52 --> Demeter (Demeter@dlp-3A0AE70A.maranatha.vic.edu.au) has joined #WDDallas
  197. 16:52 <~tubes|GM> The weakened metal dents, and some insulation stuff falls out, but you're not through yet
  198. 16:53 <~tubes|GM> ||
  199. 17:00 <Chrono|Polar> "...Alright." Polar heads back down, fondly recalling his previous arson. Got Click with 'em, so that worked great. Looking for the propane noted earlier, he rolls the tanks over to the stove, easing the valve open and throwing the stove on its highest output, then leaving out the front door, grabbing the nicest set of keys and trying it on the var
  200. 17:00 <Chrono|Polar> ious cars out front. ||
  201. 17:03 <~tubes|GM> On your way out, you see the man and the woman in the bathroom walking out the front door. They freeze, akin to deer in the headlights, as they see you looking through the keys on the table. ||
  202. 17:05 <Chrono|Polar> "Yeah, don't hang out here, its about to get blasty." Polar continues to rifle through the keys. ||
  203. 17:09 <~tubes|GM> They look at the strange man in robes carrying a compound bow and wisely decide to bolt. You walk outside and check the keys - they go to a jacked Ford pickup, complete with high-beams, brush guard, and upsized tires. Also, a shotgun rack in the backseat. And some kind of metal etching of a stag on the back window. ||
  204. 17:13 <Chrono|Polar> 'Hope thats not a gang sign. Don't really want to be mistaken to be a Rack'. Unlocking and getting into the truck, Polar pulls it out into the street, going a short distance down before turning around and turning off the truck before waiting for Click. ||
  205. 17:18 <~tubes|GM> Click continues her weird rubbing, and turns around to try and knock the safe open. With a mighty yell and a viscious punch, she tears through the weakend metal, making a hole big enough to see inside. There's some gold bar, stacks of cash, another gun, a couple of mundane things like birth certificates, and a brick of what looks like white powder. You estimate the sirens can't be more than a
  206. 17:18 <~tubes|GM> couple of blocks away by now. ||
  207. 17:21 <-- persephone (persephone@dlp-865E9F59.lsu.edu) has quit (Quit: http://www.kiwiirc.com/ - A hand crafted IRC client)
  208. 17:30 <Belaris|Click> I grab the gold, cash, and powder and toss them into the bag, then hustle downstairs. As I move down, I try and shift a little more, wings or better legs or /something/ to help me move faster.
  209. 17:32 <Belaris|Click> I paw through the kitchen drawers until I find a lighter, then head out the back door. I pause to etch 'Vigilant' on the back wall with my acid, then flee away from the sirens. ||
  210. 17:32 <-- Demeter (Demeter@dlp-3A0AE70A.maranatha.vic.edu.au) has quit (Quit: http://www.kiwiirc.com/ - A hand crafted IRC client)
  211. 17:32 <~tubes|GM> You feel your sinuses shift unpleasantly, and your hearing opens up. You hear bizzare overtones, and strange low buzzes that you didn't hear before. Unfortunately, it lets you know that the police are no more than a block away now. You'd better book it. You move quickly on your six legs, however, and you're out of the house before they round the corner, at least with what you can tell from
  212. 17:32 <~tubes|GM> your enhanced hearing. ||
  213. 17:34 <Belaris|Click> Quickly quickly quickly tear off a strip of the tattered undershirt hanging from a point on my armor, wrap it around a rock or something, light it up, and toss it back through the door. Then RUN AWAY. ||
  214. 17:40 <~tubes|GM> As you skitter away rapidly through backyards and nearby alleys, for a moment there's a delay, then there's an explosion and a fireball. Well, there goes the house. ||
  215. 17:41 <Belaris|Click> Gotta keep it up, long as I can. Coming down from this is /not/ gonna be fun.
  216. 17:41 <Belaris|Click> I find my way to the alley where I stashed the go bag, pull out the phone, and call Polar.
  217. 17:43 <Belaris|Click> "H-hey," I huff, out of breath from the mad sprint, "did it. It was full of cash and drugs. Come meet me?" ||
  218. 17:46 <Chrono|Polar> "Yeh. I'm on my way." Pulling around, away from the house, Polar drives to meet up with Click. ||
  219. 17:51 <Belaris|Click> As I see the flashy truck rolling down the street with Polar in the driver's seat, I start to retract the transformation. Slowly, slowly. I paw through the go bag to find the backup pants. As soon as I have two legs, I'm tossing those on.
  220. 17:51 <Belaris|Click> Once he pulls up, I climb up to the passenger side door and fall in, letting both bags fall to rest at my feet. "Well, that worked." ||
  221. 17:56 <~tubes|GM> As you shift back into human form, and your aura comes off, the hunger hits you. Worse than you've ever felt before. Your head starts to pound, you start to feel faint, and you can barely keep your eyes open as your bodily functions start to grind to a halt from a lack of fuel. ||
  222. 17:57 <~tubes|GM> Polar notices click is about to fall over. She's haggard looking, as though she hasn't had a decent meal in days. She definietely did not look like that before she went in the house.
  223. 17:57 <~tubes|GM> ||
  224. 17:58 <Belaris|Click> Food. Food food food food. There's food in the bag. I tear at the bag. I tear at the food. It's the best thing I've ever eaten. ||
  225. 18:03 -- soulpelt|nap is now known as soulpelt|
  226. 18:03 -- Antioch|cleaning is now known as Antioch
  227. 18:06 --> Demeter (Demeter@dlp-3A0AE70A.maranatha.vic.edu.au) has joined #WDDallas
  228. 18:09 <Chrono|Polar> "...You okay there, Click?" Polar glances over, beginning to drive to Click's place. ||
  229. 18:11 <Belaris|Click> I groan through a mouthful of food. "Hungry. Tired." I'm shoving energy bars in my mouth by the handful and it's not making a difference.
  230. 18:13 <Belaris|Click> Dimly, I notice that my legs are back to normal. Also pantsless. Shocked back to some semblance of awareness, I mash another handful of energy bars in my maw and slip on the emergency pair of jeans from my go bag.
  231. 18:15 <Belaris|Click> I murmur around the mouthful of food, "My plash, drop o' th' stuff, shplit it, wha'evah, then we break, talk 'bout ne' stepsh. Yeh?" ||
  232. 18:24 <Chrono|Polar> "Can do. Don't hurt yourself eating those. Not pulling over to Heimlich you." Polar continues to drive to Click's place.
  233. 18:39 <Belaris|Click> I nod and continue eating in silence until we pull up to the apartment building. I pull roughly half the cash, three of the gold bars, and the brick of white powder out of the bag and leave it on the car floor, covered with one of my spare undershirts from the go bag.
  234. 18:40 <Belaris|Click> "You can prolly take care of that better than me. It'll be a few days until I can go that hard again, so... see you around?"
  235. 18:41 <Belaris|Click> I hop out of the truck, pulling my jacket close around me as I shoulder both bags. I wave to Polar and walk up into my apartment. Gorge on a few thousand more calories, then straight to bed. Helluva day. ||
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