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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2016 1:45 am
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You’re back at the bottom of the stairs. The lights are out. There is only eerie silence. The bar is empty, save for the echoes of the travelers.
Detective Kuroda is not at the door. He's by Jeremiah's booth, which is empty. He says nothing.
The little shrine of photographs by the door is pristine. Untouched.
Liam is still at the bar. He is cleaning the same section, over and over again. Temperance has abandoned her post.
Erin appears to be unconscious.
In the middle of the dance floor, Dana, Jamie, and Shiloh are collected into a triangle. There are open spaces at other sigil-points. Dana's hands are smudged with lipstick and Jamie's hair is a mess of blood and splinters. Shiloh rocks nervously in place, but doesn't move. Temperance crouches near them, but doesn't seem to be part of the little triad.
Onstage, Mika Do and Sibyl stand: automatons yet to be acted upon. Their stares are glassy and their hands are still.
A gaping void has appeared in the floor just in front of the stage. It is inky and endless.
By the stage, one can see and speak to Sibyl Liberties and Mika Do.
Down at the bar, you can find Liam and Erin.
Over in the booths, you can find Shiloh, Jamie, Dana, Temperance and Shun.
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2016 1:46 am
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combat.Combat will be very simple. Combatants roll 1d20 per round. The lower number takes five damage. Everyone has a pool of 25hp, which is persistent throughout this section of the meta: unless healed by another character, your hit points will not increase or decrease outside of combat. Should both combatants agree (oocly), the fight can end or be interrupted before a combatant is knocked out. Reaching zero means that your character cannot join any other fights for the rest of the meta unless healed. Some fights have the chance to end in death or incapacitation: these will be clearly labeled and clearly avoidable.
There are some exceptions to the five damage rule:
>Your character has a firearm. Firearms inflict 10 damage, but they also subtract 3 points from your roll. You must call that you're using a firearm when you make your original roll and this cannot be retracted. >Your character is using magic. Magic inflicts 10 damage, absolute, no matter what your opponent rolls, but it takes a round for your character to focus enough to make it do. So you'd call magic (with no roll) in the first round, take 5 damage from your opponent, and in the second round (if you're still standing) your opponent takes ten damage from you. You must still roll to dodge their attack. >Your character is healing another. Healing doesn't require a roll. You just post that you're healing and who the target is, and they regain 5 health. >You can't perform two actions on the same round. You can't attempt to block and heal at the same time; nor can you attempt to attack and heal.
ADDENDUM: In a 2v1 situation where one character is attempting to block for another, all characters still roll. Blocking doesn't automatically succeed. For the block to be successful, both characters (blocker and blockee) have to roll above the attacker. The attacker takes no damage in this situation.
Formula: A = Attacker B = Blocker C = Defended
A outrolls B + C: A succeeds in attacking C, C takes 5 damage. A outrolls B, but not C: B takes 5 damage, block is successful. A outrolls C, but not B: B fails to block, but does cause damage to A. A + C take 5 damage. A is outrolled by both B and C: No one takes damage. Block is successful.
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2016 1:46 am
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Posted: Wed Nov 30, 2016 9:22 am
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Smerdle rolled 1 20-sided dice:
11
Total: 11 (1-20)
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Posted: Thu Dec 01, 2016 11:43 am
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Rabbit Vaughn; stairs->sigil; 18/18 -1 persuasion, -1 combat
He eventually had to move because of Europe. The band, not the continent. Its members lurked at the edges of his vision, whispering the song he had sang as a joke until he actually moved forward, tripping up the stairs and into the bar. Unsurprisingly, he was drawn to the void first, then the people and their sigil. Rabbit knelt, resting his hand on Temperance's shoulder.
"What's going on here? What are you trying to do?"
Was this what they had been up to before the last reset? Their protective rune? Where was the old man?
Behind Temp the sirens stood, small and dark, staring up at him over her shoulder. He closed his eyes, but when Europe replaced the kids, he opened them again.
"It's the final countdown."
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Posted: Thu Dec 01, 2016 2:41 pm
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Jamie Delacroix | 19/19
+1 to Persuasion, -2 to Persuasion -1 to Combat Jamie recalled this time, somewhere deep in his subconscious, that this was a memory. There shouldn't have been doubt there, there shouldn't have been such an urge to change something that had already happened and so rightfully couldn't be touched. It still bothered him. This was Jamie Delacroix, bleeding heart extraordinaire.
At the bottom of the stairs again, at least on a surface level, he didn't worry about those things, though. The second explosion had rocked him worse than last time, left him weary and confused. He walked away from Shiloh—his Shiloh—and Ollie, he walked past Rabbit and the symbol on the floor. No one else could see it, but Jamie was following a narrow path, one surrounded on both sides by endless canyon. Near the other end was Liam, but not the real Liam, even though his voice sounded clear as crystal.
"You. The key's in the cash register under the ones. Get it and bring it back here."
The memory from before was what led him. What was that thing in the box? It had to be important, it was important... Right? Without even attempting to speak with the real Liam, he leapt over the imaginary canyon he saw. In reality, he was simply trying to get behind the bar without asking first.
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Posted: Thu Dec 01, 2016 5:49 pm
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Oliver Beaumont : 18/18 -1 combat -1 persuasion (+1 persuasion nulled)
Oliver didn't really remember the whole memory thing.
Everything about this moment read like a nightmare. Every time the explosion went off it just got worse. There was nothing to fix here; there was really nothing to do about the situation either. They were effectively doomed, he was sure of this. The stairs leading up to the bar shimmer and the door hummed with an intoxicating glow. He couldn't turn around—hell, even if he did, where would he go?—and so he wandered up the steps. Shiloh was a distant thought. Jamie was too.
At least, until he walked into the bar. Everything was drab, but not colorless, just... absent. It was quiet and he smiled the way someone grins when they're a little too whisked away on morphine. Nothing feels like everything and the absolute just isn't there. He doesn't see any of the doubles or the other 80s counterparts. He does see Jamie—the actual Jamie—wandering away with an express purpose. Where was he going? Why?
A hand grabbed his arm, but he shrugged it off.
“Don't do that..." he murmured softly, voice absent of any real venom. He followed after his friend.
Shiloh Beaumont: 22/22 -1 combat
He stood there like a statue when Oliver continued to walk off without him.
Honestly, Shiloh didn't do anything to stop his brother. He didn't do anything to stop Jamie either; he just watched as the two zombied away, their stares far and distant and barely aware... he looked to the mess in front of him. His stomach churned and grumbled and his chest felt tight—sick—but he continued to stand there, expression tired, face somewhat sad.
The collar of his shirt erupted into periwinkles and cornflowers, their petals lofty and loose and fluttering with every tentative step.
Eventually he stopped, and what remained in front of him was Jamie—the eighties version of him—his hair sticky with blood and ruined with shrapnel. He looked upon him with an absolute reverence. He looked upon him the way an zealot would a saint. He kneeled down without much concern for Dana or the other version of himself and just smiled sadly.
I don't think we're supposed to stop this, he mused silently to himself, I think we died here.
“I'm sorry..." it's cathartic, but useless. Eightmie didn't do anything wrong and he never did anything to slight him. These were just memories and nothing really mattered but it didn't cure the guilt. Every reset worsened. Every retcon blurred the lines a little more. It'll be over soon. He consoled himself with the thought. Whether they succeeded or failed it'd still come to an end. Sunday said no more. He doesn't even notice Temperance.
The selfish moment having come and past and finally left behind him, Shiloh stood up. Around him were the sigils that he hadn't had the chance to look at, so he took the opportunity now. Taking up residence at one of the open points, he leaned down to examine the mark. He didn't know s**t about the significance of these things, but if this world was anything like Other Ashdown in terms of magic...
He touched his hand to the symbol, studying it gently while the chaos went on behind him. His entire expression read done.
shibrogane shiloh looks at ******** and then examines the sigilsssss
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Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2016 12:26 pm
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Jamie Delacroix | 19/19
+1 to Persuasion, -2 to Persuasion -1 to Combat Though he heard, Jamie's eyes didn't quite focus on the real Liam until the apparition of him vanished beyond the register. His head pounded when he shook it as if trying to clear a fog that wouldn't lift on its own. "Hey wait-" he started, still positive the floor of the bar had become a canyon.
It was too late. Liam had vanished into the void, fallen into the canyon.
As Jamie watched where he used to be, his stomach sank. "D-Did that really just... happen?" he asked Ollie, though he didn't look at him. "I... I know it's just a memory, it's not technically real, but I still-"
Looking at his feet, he shook his head.
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Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2016 1:41 pm
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Oliver Beaumont : 18/18 -1 combat -1 persuasion (+1 persuasion nulled)
“What...?" was his less than graceful response. He rubbed his eyes to try and make sense of the scene; Jamie had been there, and then so had the bartender, and then suddenly the bartender was gone. Something about Renar-Sibyl. Something about watching the till. He watched as the void claimed Liam.
The void had claimed others too, hadn't it? The old man and the women and the other teen that looked to be about his age... Where were they at? Were they dead? They were probably dead.
No wait, they were standing right there in front of the stage; wait, no they weren't. He looked down to his hands, desperate to see something real and tangible. Each finger moved when he willed them. Each muscle worked when he tried to feel it.
“We're probably going to die here." he said matter of factly, like he had just spoken the sentence right out of a book. He looked to Jamie again, confused when he saw someone who looked sort of like his friend and yet sort of not. The voice sounded uncanny; if his eyes were closed, it was definitely Jamie, but when they were open?
His hand reached out to clumsily collide with his shoulder. In a rush it felt like he was being dragged away. His feet didn't move. Was someone dragging Jamie away then? He could still feel his hand on his shoulder.
“I don't think there's anything we can do to stop this." his eyes felt heavy and his vision felt blurry. The gash on his head felt dry and yet he could still see the liquid rushing down over his face. He was a fountain and the cut was a deluge of galaxy black water. When he touched it and smeared the residue all over his face, it felt like he was erasing himself from existence. “I think it just happens. Where's Shiloh...?"
He couldn't discern his brother from across the room.
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Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2016 2:42 pm
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Jamie Delacroix | 19/19
+ 1 to Persuasion, -2 to Persuasion -1 to Combat Funny thing was, Jamie didn't even have it in him to deny the claim they'd die here. Deep down he didn't believe it, but he was tired, they both were. This was just another hell at the end of a line of hells they'd been through. It was Ollie's first, so Jamie could empathize with his negativity.
"We... gotta keep going," he told him, trying not to sound too unsure. "We can't stop now." The hand on his shoulder served to bring him closer back to reality, as close to reality as this memory could be. Instead of worrying over the way the look on Oliver's face made him seem so far away, he grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the cash register. The last thing he planned on doing was leaving him alone.
"Shiloh's here, don't worry. He's here... just like we are. I just gotta find the key and then we'll go back out and I'm sure we'll see him." Same as before, Jamie hit no sale, he looked beneath the ones, he found the key.
"C'mon, Oliver..." he muttered as he stepped out from behind the bar, still holding his hand.
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Posted: Fri Dec 02, 2016 3:06 pm
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Jamie Delacroix | 19/19
+ 1 to Persuasion, -2 to Persuasion -1 to Combat With his head clearing faster than Oliver's, Jamie was able to discern the stage in the distance. The floor was still a canyon, but he'd long since accepted that as fact. To him, that was simply how the memory had re-manifested. They were lucky there was a long, but thin and treacherous, stretch of earth left to lead them where they needed to go.
"You're not a bad brother," he muttered, squeezing his hand with knowing pressure. Jamie had dealt with tremendous guilt when he'd first discovered the Shiloh he'd known for months was a fake and that the true Shiloh had been kidnapped and tortured. Though he'd learned to tell himself it wasn't his fault, that didn't fully banish the feeling. It must've been the same for Ollie. "He's not gone... He's here, I know it. Watch your step, okay?"
And Jamie was right. As he led Oliver down the narrow path, he saw Shiloh, safely atop a small plateau and said, "See, look," but continued towards the stage without stopping to meet up with him. If Ollie wanted to go to Shiloh, Jamie wouldn't stop him. He had a goal, though. He had to see it through and he knew Shiloh would understand.
"There's something behind the stage," he finally answered, "This key unlocks it. It's... really important. It's gotta be..." Without hesitation he climbed the steps and began to walk across the stage. Jamie didn't seem to consider whether Sibyl or Mika—both as still as statues—would try to stop him.
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