Whiskey Tango Foxtrot game

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Setting: ReZion

Referee: RooK

Player: Dave

Contents

Dramatis Personae

  • William "the Bloody" Swartz
    • "special"
    • 1st stage scout
    • 1st stage sharp shooter
  • Mr. Swartz
    • ranch dude
    • 1st stage sharp shooter
    • 1st stage leader
    • Active pillar of the community.
  • Mrs. Swartz
    • ranch dudette
    • Brains of the operation - handles bookkeeping, etc.
    • Also typical housewife stuff, appropriate to sexist 1960's paradigm.
  • Mike Swartz
    • Spike's older brother
    • 2nd stage technician
    • Owns a shop in a nearby town
    • takes care of all the ranch equipment
  • Sister Delta
    • older sibling of Spike
    • lives in Washington Territory
  • Sister Epsilon
    • older sibling of Spike
    • lives in Republic of Tejas

Background

The events of the Horrific Realism game are completely unknown in North America. Rumours and conjecture run rampant, however, and it is impossible to sift through all the bullshit to even make a plausible guess. All that is commonly known is that 'something' happened in the Middle East in 1977, and now it is even less habitable than either Washington DC or Moscow.

Young Billy Swartz grew up in the Independent Republic of Oregon, and was out tracking game with his father in 1977 when he had his 'attack'. From that day on, he was different. Part of that difference was a sensitivity to... something. It was a living Force that permeated reality, and gave young Billy certain abilities - both immediate, in the form of heightened (+3) intelligence/awareness/willpower, and potential abilities...

Da Swartz

The Swartz (renamed from the Force) is a custom version of magic for testing purposes. It is not completely defined at this time, and may be subject to change.

Billy gets 3 Swartz-points per stage. They need to be applied to 5 different realms:

  • COMMUNICATION - interacting with other minds
  • CLAIRVOYANCE - peering into the future and the unknowable
  • PHYSICAL - affecting mortal vessels
  • ENERGY - manipulating fundamental power
  • AETHER - arm-wrestling Newton and Einstein's laws

Unlike normal MBA/magic, the Swartz is not a pool of points to be spent on discrete abilities then recycled. The 5 realms are incrementally earned, with growing generalized permanent abilities.

Background 2

We clarified that the Swartz family ranch is located near Lincoln City by the coast, while brother Mike's shop is located in McMinnville. Both the ranch and the shop divert a large portion of their income to support William going to med school at OHSU in Portland in 1982...

William lives with three room mates:

  • Naomi - nursing student at OHSU
  • Ben - computer science student at PSU
  • Jacob - waiter at the Rock Bottom brewery

The only things of value that William owns are:

  • a bike
  • good boots
  • a hunting knife
  • a multitool and some bike repair tools
  • rain coat

2014.12.19 - Unpleasantness Begins

While studying late in the bowels of the hospital, Will feels his room mate Naomi blink out of existence. Somewhere in downtown PDX.

Worried and paranoid, as any self-respecting player-character should be, Will phoned his other room mates to check on them. While he did so in a way that might have hinted at his strange abilities, it seemed unlikely that they read too much into it specifically - other than to confirm that 'Billy is weird'.

Heading downtown with due care, Will managed to zero in on the scene of the crime - the Roseland Theatre. Which really wasn't very difficult - a dozen bikers had slaughtered a small crowd at a theatre, as well as a police officer that had responded to the disturbance. William hid, and watched a small phalanx of SWAT arrive to confront the well-armed bikers. They looked about to have a very intense firefight, when the leader of the bikers and the leader of the SWAT team exchanged a look. The leaders then instructed their respective teams to just simply depart.

Confused, Will crept into the crime scene for a quick inspection - he could hear another police car's sirens approaching. He easily determined that Naomi was indeed one of the victims. But more oddly, he spotted three corpses in suits that appeared to be the only ones killed in an execution style - everyone else was played-with to death, or killed and played with.

Leaving the Roseland, Will watched another police car arrive - park next to the empty squad car, and the plainclothes detective inside yelling obscenities at his radio. He then jumped out, and further assessed the carnage. He asked for any witnesses, and Will volunteered some information - then disappeared.

Will tracked the biker gang through PDX - thanks partially to the Swartz - and found them gathered rambunctiously at the Lucky Lab on Killingsworth. Will marked their bikes with Swartz, and headed home for rest.

The next day, Will went to class while mentally keeping track of the biker's locations. They didn't move much from the Lucky Lab. After classes, he rode out to North Portland again. The bikers had spread out among some local homes. Will decided to confront a pair of bikers holed up in the back of the gas station at Killingsworth and Interstate. The large bikers initially underestimated the diminutive 18-year-old, but after he snatched up one of their shotguns and killed them they were more respectful.

Will stole a rifle from their collection and hid it near the freeway, then left the area.

Plot Infliction 001 - Let The Paranoia Begin

Will's level-3 physical Swartz means that it is hard for him to suffer from malnutrition, but his meagre food budget is going to have a hard time keeping up with his recent activity levels. He's very hungry.

Do I know of any nearby areas that have city wildlife? A colony of rabbits would be ideal.

Have Ben and Jacob learned of Naomi's death yet?

I think after school the next day I'm going to catch up on some sleep, and then head out later in the evening. Going to try for some reconnaissance this time - I want to pinpoint the leader and mark him, and figure out which house he's staying at.

But before anything, I wait until I have the apartment to myself and then vigorously clean all of the blood off me and my clothing.

On the west side of the river is Forest Park, however its lagomorph population is pretty tiny. If William is interested in eating squirrels, possums, or raccoons that should be easily accommodated.

As of the last time William saw Ben or Jacob - at 07:00 in the morning - they had not been informed of Naomi's death. Though, that was likely partially influenced by them still being asleep when William left for class. When William returns to the apartment, Ben is out (probably at class) and Jacob is still-still asleep. There are about a dozen messages on the answering machine.

Sigh. This isn't going to be fun. I check the messages.

The messages are a gruelling, soul-ablating collection of horror. William is forced to ask himself "Why? HOW? WHY?! Why is Jacob so annoyingly fucking popular, and who are all these breathless females that want to know how he's doing and if he can meet up with them?

Oh, and there's a laconic message from a police deputy asking if somebody from the apartment could come down to the morgue to identify a body.

Yeah... I think my story will be that I listened to the first couple messages, figured they were all for Jacob and didn't listen to the rest. I head to class. Still keeping a mental eye on the motorcycles, and the rifle to see if any of them move a great distance.

I was unclear; the messages all show up while Will is at class. They are discovered upon his return at 15:00. Ben is not back from class yet, and Jacob is snoring.

Right. Well, same thing. I leave the messages for Jacob. Have the bikes moved significantly? Or the rifle?

It really is mostly Jacob's and Naomi's phone line after all; Will and Ben get calls so infrequently that they often aren't asked to contribute to the phone bill.

A segment of the bikes seemed to sweep about semi-systematically - though still far enough to have been all in North Portland. The rest congregated, probably at the Lucky Lab, and the sweepers eventually joined them.

The rifle hasn't budged.

2015.01.02 - Life Is Complicated

Being rousted by his room-mates 40-odd hours after Naomi's death, William goes with Ben and Jacob for some memorial drinks down at Jacob's workplace - the Rock Bottom Pub. The wake is interrupted after just an hour when a gorilla of a human named Bluto comes in to pick a fight with Jacob for insults both imagined and real. After the gorilla breaks some of Ben's ribs, William and Jacob intercept. At which time William discovers that he can very effectively render assailants unconscious if he can lay his hands on them.

After Bluto is dragged outside and left, he wakes up and decides to make things worse by heading to a nearby pay phone and requesting simian backup. Being a fundamentally suspicious person, William crept outside and overhears Blutos plan - then renders him unconscious again, and steals his wallet, keys, and knife.

Eventually, the simian backup arrives, joins with the re-awakened Bluto, and rush into the bar with baseball bats. William has the bartenders on duty warned ahead of time, but it turns into a messy brawl nonetheless. Leaving Ben in hiding, William emerges to join the fray, and proceeds to beat the living shit out of the goons. After William administers first aid to those in need, the police show up. They arrest the goons, and take Jacob and William in for questioning.

At the main police station, William is questioned a bit extra-long, due an interest taken in him by a Detective Thatcher - who seems to have some idea that something ...unusual... is going on, and correctly feels that William might know something about it. But has insufficient evidence to detain William for anything, and releases him.

William walks Jacob back to the Rock Bottom, and wanders homeward. Before he gets there, he can sense the Biker Gang bikes swarming southward into downtown. So William rushes the rest of the way home, grabs his bicycle, and pumps down the Pearl to reconnoitre the situation. He finds an intense firefight going on at Jamison Square park, between the bikers and some more guys in suits. Using his considerable capacity for stealth, William gets close enough to get a good look at many of the participants. Unfortunately, this includes the leader of the bike gang - who "notices" William back, marking him with The Swartz. Two large bikers are dispatched to kill William.

William runs, and takes cover in a parking lot across the street from the park as the two burly bikers box him in. Then things get messy. William catches a shotgun blast before he can Nerve Pinch the biker closest to him. After which, he catches several large-caliber slugs from the hand cannon of the other biker before putting him down with the rest of the ammo in the shotgun. William flees a few blocks on the bike just as the rest of the bike gang mounts up... and flee in a different direction.

This confuses William, who stops nearby to use is physical Swartz to heal himself. Police sirens soon fill the air as a squad of cruisers arrive. They promptly renew the firefight, though William can't exactly tell what is going on. Curiosity demands satisfaction, so William creeps back to check.

He does not get far before he sees a police cruiser moving slowly down the street. They stop to check on a by-standing witness, whom they execute. Which, even in post-holocaust IRO is not standard police operating procedure. The cruisers seem to have a bad feeling about William's proximity, and there is a brief game of cat-and-mouse. But presently the squad of police cars leaves as the sounds of other sirens grow.

Before the next wave of police arrive, William sneaks in to have a closer look at the battle scene. Four more suited individuals appear to have been executed. A quick search reveals that they all work for Hukari Insurance, whatever that is.

William then leaves the area. Which is about the time that he is telepathically asked "WHO ARE YOU?". William manages to scrub the mark from his being, and most of his possessions. Though he does find it necessary to toss his hoodie off the Broadway bridge before some bikers can intercept him. After which he rides homeward, slightly chilly.

Just to be funny, he stops back by the Rock Bottom. From there he grabs the hidden wallet and keys from Bluto's Caitnop Firechicken, which he tracks down and re-parks up in the hills.

Plot Infliction 002 - More Paranoia Is Probably Needed

Again, William is ravenous. All the ramen noodles at the apartment might not be sufficient.

I sleep in - it's Saturday right? When I wake up, if Jacob is still asleep, I give him a bit of healing to fix anything internal.

How much money was in Bluto's wallet? Enough to buy a huge lunch and a new hoodie? At some point today, I'm going to hide the car keys somewhere outside near the car, and toss the wallet in a mailbox.

Other things on the to do list - check a recent newspaper to see how much is being reported on the recent violence downtown. Also, I look for a nearby martial arts club.

Jacob is still asleep even after William's sleep-in, as is the random female in his bed. It turns out to be fairly easy to heal his wounds entirely while leaving the mere appearance of really impressively badass bruising. The pair self-administered significant amounts of amateur sedatives that they're still sleeping off.

Bluto's wallet had [rolls dice] $74 cash money in his wallet; plenty to buy a huge lunch (say $14 at a food cart) and a new hoodie (say $12). Ah, 1982 prices.

The local newspapers are going nuts with conjecture about the recent wave of ultra-violence (not just contained to the two major incidents downtown). The police have released virtually no details about the downtown events.

Martial arts clubs/dojos/gyms are quite common in the peripheral of downtown. Is there a particular ilk you are more interested in?

Probably first choice would be ju-jitsu as I've heard it's the best for bar fights, but I check out a few to do some cost comparisons.

The only quasi-handy ju-jitsu is the "Nemesis" dojo on 16th and Irvine. They're $10 each class. A few blocks down at Marshall St. is an Aikido school - $11 per class, or $55 per month. Out at 26th and Savier is a Shotokan Karate dojo - $5 per class, or $50 per month. Closer downtown, at 11th and Morrison is a boxing gym - $45 monthly membership fee, classes are for pussies. On the East Side, across the river, there are even more options...

Your brother Mike leaves a message on the answering machine that he'll be in Portland that evening. Doing "stuff", but he'll probably swing by the apartment to see if you're free for going out to eat and chat. I'd say, "or, whatever" - but that's not a thing yet.

Cool. I'll also check the phone book and newspapers for anything on that insurance company. Otherwise, will be taking it easy the rest of the day - maybe catch up on some school work - until Mike stops by.

Mike stops by with his usual flourish: quietly picking the apartment lock and bursting in without knocking. He flashes his usual perpetual grin from behind his heavy stubble and lanky hair. It, and the twinkle in his eye, makes you worry that he might tackle you onto the couch and try to get you in a headlock. Though he hasn't actually done such a thing since you were 14, you just suspect he's thinking about it. Ben slouches even further behind the kitchen table with his books and monster calculator, apparently afraid that Mike might take his lunch money.

"Hey Billy! Whatcha hungry for? Let's head out for some gabbing and gobbling." He nods at Ben. "You can come too, dork."

Ben is clearly disinclined philosophically, but a loud gurgling announces that at least part of him is tempted to eat something other than PBJ or noodles.

Jacob is not currently home, having gone out to purchase some jugs of cologne.

"Mike! Food! Need carbs. Pasta?" I look at Ben - "Up to you. I know Mike here can be annoying as hell, but you get used to it after a while." I smirk at Mike. "Or, I can pick up some takeout for you."

To Mike: "Y'know, the way this city seems to be headed, you might want to be careful whose lock you pick. Might get on the wrong end of a shotgun."

Ben looks relieved. "Some take-out would be awesome, thanks." He gives a weak smile, trying to cover how lame he knows he sounds.

Mike: "Awesome take-out it is, then. Later nerd who's name I forgot."

William and Mike race down the stairs (20 flights of risky stupidity) and head out to Mike's old tow truck. A short drive later, "Swartz" is on the wait list at the Old Spaghetti Factory.

"OK, dumbass. Tell me about how the hell you ended up having the police call mom in the middle of the night with you being arrested on suspicion of aggravated assault? And what's with the crack about shotguns?"

"Well, the police call is the easier of the two to explain. Jacob, Ben, and I were having drinks at Jacob's work, and some moron attacked Jacob. Ben and I helped fight him off and toss him out, but he came back with two friends. They got into it with Jacob and two other bartenders and I went in to help. When the police got there, we all got taken in for questioning."

"As for the shotgun comment.... Things seem to be getting really violent in Portland. There was a major shootout at the Roseland Theatre on Wednesday. Another one at Jamison Square last night. It's getting nuts." I pause for a moment and say morosely: "Our roommate Naomi was at the Roseland Theater. She was killed. From what I understand, it wasn't quick."

"Overall, I really get the feeling something nasty is coming, if it isn't here already."

Mike: "Shit. Your girl roommate was murdered? I'm sorry man."

He squirms uncomfortably, and is probably relieved when the hostess comes and leads you to a corner table. After she leaves, Mike comments, "Makes the bar fight a lot more understandable." He ponders for a bit, sips some water, orders a massive pile of spaghetti when the waitress comes. "If PDX is getting dangerous, perhaps you should consider some additional safety measures..."

I order an equally massive pile of spaghetti. "Yeah, the only thing I'm good with is a rifle, and it might look a little odd having one. I thought about taking some martial arts classes."

"To be honest, I'm not too worried about me... seems I'm tougher than I look. Plus I've always been kinda sneaky. I can keep my head down when I need to. I just hope things don't escalate at all. It would suck if I had to leave Portland before I got my degree."

Mike's eyebrows are seemingly startled and scurry for cover under his mop of hair. "You're shitting me! You think there's a chance that a city of a million people will descend into violent chaos?" He blows through pursed lips. "Is this something that you... sense? Do you have any more details?"

"What good would kung fooey do?"

"Too many details... I don't know, maybe I'm being paranoid." I switch to as hushed a tone as I can. "The night Naomi died, I went looking for her. I got a look at the assholes who did it. Bike gang. I think it was a hit on someone else, and Naomi was a in wrong place, wrong time situation. Anyway, the thing is, the first bunch of cops that showed up didn't do anything. Just let them go. So if we got slaughters happening, and the cops looking the other way... I just don't know how paranoid I should be."

"As for kung fooey, I was hoping it would help if I got into another fight. Right now I kind of suck at it. Though... " and I speak a bit lower "just between you and me, I've found I can heal pretty quick."

I do a quick (but subtle) locate on Mike to see if he has any scratches or bruises anywhere.

Mike and your parents have been the beneficiaries of general good health for a few years now, thanks to your regular proximity. No direct conversations about healing abilities have ever been had in the family, but it's not going to surprise anyone in the clan. Mike does indeed have some cut/bruised knuckles, as usual due to wrench-wielding.

Mike [matching hushed tone]: "The police were looking the other way? What the fuck?"

Steaming plates of excellent spaghetti arrive. The waitress does not linger.

"I think I can see how some HI-YAH could be useful, generally speaking, if stuff in PDX is getting rough. I was thinking more along the lines of getting you a flak jacket and a revolver, but that might not be fitting for a dashing young doctor-to-be. But what do you do if the police are that crummy?" He runs a hand through his hair. "How much of the police force do you feel is whacko?"

As if to fuel his worrying, Mike begins to inhale the spaghetti.

"Not all of it, but definitely one swat team. I don't think the gear is a good idea. It may help in some situations, but it also may give the police an excuse to get in my business again."

"Want me to fix those cuts on your hand? I've been practicing."

Mike looks at his hands in surprise. "Huh. Didn't notice. Probably fine to leave 'em. People might not trust a mechanic with pretty hands... And keep your witchy powers private, you little freak." He grins at William playfully. "You're probably right about the gear - could cause more trouble than it prevents. Be honest about the kung-fooey, though: you're just wanting to get even with me for being stronger and prettier than you."

2015.01.08 - Apartment Of Doom

Finishing dinner at the Old Spaghetti Factory, Mike and William stop off at a liquor store to lubricate a brotherly heart-to-heart conversation. On their way back to the apartment, William's clairvoyance starts itching - like somebody is looking for him. He gets Mike to slow down, and it soon becomes apparent that whomever (or whatever) is looking for him is in the vicinity of OHSU. They proceed on carefully, relatively certain that they were not spotted.

Once at the apartment, the tingling is back. And, lo, out front is parked an unmarked police cruiser. Being paranoid, William calls up to Ben at the apartment to see what is going on. It quickly becomes apparent that Detective Thatcher is there, and he's being politely inquisitive about William's whereabouts. William decides to face the music, as if he were innocent.

Thatcher warns William that his notes about William were... viewed by other persons. Persons who might also be looking for William, and might potentially wish him harm. A quick bit of banter revealed that the address of the apartment was deduced from OHSU records after the violation of the investigation files, but that another entity could follow the same trail.

William thanks Thatcher, then after he leaves calls Mike up for that drink. Drinking happens.

After about an hour, William's clairvoyance punches him in the gut. A quick look outside reveals several police vehicles blocking all access to the building, plus some empty vehicles whose passengers are probably inside the building already. When William goes to call Thatcher, the line is dead. Shortly after that, main power in the building goes out.

They try to flee. A largish group of police are coming up the main stairway, so they head to the utility stairway - which also has a party of police stomping up. Mike, Ben, and William go down a few floors and hide in an empty, unlocked apartment. Unfortunately, the door to the floor briefly cast emergency lighting into the stairwell and their location was noted. The flanking team blocked the exit from the floor and waited for the main team to sweep by and join up.

Perceiving the decay of the situation, William emerged from the apartment to act surrender-y. At which point, one of the officers asked (seemingly to empty air) if he was the target. Then his eyes bugged out and pointed in different directions, and a croaking voice confirmed, "It is the entity. Kill it." So they tried.

A bloody fight ensued. William danced and tried to stun his opponents while absorbing serious harm. Mike jumped out to help with his shotgun, but was mowed down. Even Ben tried to help, and fared worse. Nevertheless, eventually they managed to kill all three police officers.

William used his eldritch Swaartz to heal the group back up to full - just in time to face four more, better-skilled police. This time, though, William was armed. Plus they had some tactical advantage in the stairwell due limitations in movement. Even so, it was a close thing, with everybody near death at some point.

Afterwards, the three continued down to the basement. There, they found a narrow utility tunnel they could squirm down. It gave way to a grated portal in the foliage of the street out front of the building. From there, they could hear the wail of other emergency vehicles approaching, and the subsequent departure of the police cruisers blocking the building.

Plot Infliction 003 - Ah, THERE's The Paranoia

Mike and Ben are not immediately eager to emerge from hiding.

Mike: "We can't directly tell anybody about this. The good cops will still possibly peg us for murder."

Ben: "Crappity crap crap. I totally shot a police officer in the face. I'm going to jail for the rest of my life. I'll probably be stuck with a boyfriend named 'Lester The Molester', and never get to play with computers again."

Mike: "Self defense, but there's nothing proving we were involved."

Ben: "Assuming we get all our fingerprints off of this stuff... yeah. I see what you mean. Right - we were out, saw the police blockade and just hung back."

I check the state of our clothing - bullet holes and blood?

"Right. Let's get started cleaning this gear. I agree that we shouldn't tell anyone. Mike, you were never here. Ben, after that detective visited, we went out for munchies, and on the way back saw the blockade and left. 'Course this all depends on us getting our of here and past the cops.

Williams clothes are a bloody, holey mess. Mikes are considerably better off. Tearing off the sleeves of his shirt deals with most of it. Ben's clothes are perfectly fine - all his hits were blunt trauma to the flak jacket.

Mike: "Right. I'll drive to a friend's place in town. Not heading back to my place just yet... I'll also call dad, to make sure he and mom stay wary."

Ben: "Leaving sounds good. I suggest Rock Bottom, so we can warn Jacob quiet-like."

Mike: "Ok. Give me the number and I'll call you if anything else happens."

I do a locate up the grate to see if an egress can be made without being noticed - keeping in mind that Ben and Mike don't sneak well.

Trees growing in the divider make for excellent cover, other than for directly perpendicular in the street. At the moment, there's nobody around. Mike make short work of the latch, and all of you are out with relative ease. Mike uses his torn-off shirtsleeves to wipe the obvious gore off of William, but William's shirt and hoodie are toast. Mike wads those up, and offers to dispose of them.

Mike walks briskly away from the building, carrying an unremarkable-looking bundle of flak jackets around his shotgun and all the stuff to be sunk in the river. Ben loans William his t-shirt, and goes commando in his hoodie.

The route to Rock Bottom is mostly-empty for a couple blocks, then increasingly filled with curious people. Apparently, 2 short blocks is the general consensus on the correct distance to stay away from packs of police acting strangely.

Awesome. On to Rock Bottom. Quickly.

"So Ben, I think the time has come to find another apartment to live in. Somehow, living in a building where psycho cops tried to kill us doesn't seem kosher."

Ben's face looks like he just chewed on a lemon rind. "Living in a city where some psycho cops try to kill me a few days after some psycho bikers kill my girlfriend is sounding pretty questionable right now."

The walk to Rock Bottom goes quickly. As soon as you enter the door, Jacob spots you and sees that something is amiss. The place is jam-packed, so he gestures you over to a back room.

Jacob: "Gentlemen?"

Ben: "Fuck, man, something messed up is going on." It quickly becomes clear that Ben is unsure about what to tell Jacob regarding the murdering aspects.

"Tonight that detective came by. He wanted to warn me about something. It seems that the police force is having issues with some rogue cops, or bad cops, or something. Anyway, apparently they took an interest in my file because of the brohaha the other night. He told me to be careful, stay in public places, etc. Seems nuts a cop warning me about other cops right? Anyway, Ben and I went out for a snack, and on our way back we saw a bunch of cop cars surrounding the place and heard gunfire inside, so we hightailed it out of there."

I pause for a second while he digests that, and then say: "That's the official story. If anyone asks, that's what we told you, ok? The truth is a bit more complicated. Either way, have you got somewhere else to stay tonight? Going to the apartment might be a bad idea."

To both: "Look guys, remember when I had that feeling when Naomi died? I just knew something was wrong. I'm getting that feeling now. They're going to come after me again. At the very least, we should ditch the apartment and find different places to live. I don't want you guys caught in the middle if they come after me again. Part of me is thinking of leaving town altogether."

Jacob: "Well, shit."

Ben: "Yeah. It's really messed up, and these guys were not taking hostages. Logically, this means that even though they seem to be hunting William - for whatever reason - they will also be trying to snag us to try to get to him."

Jacob: "Gotcha. Well, I have a few friends who we could have put us up for a while. Let me make some calls."

Ben: "There's a catch. You and I should probably not know where William is. In case they get to one of us, I mean."

I do a quick mental check on where Detective Thatcher is, as well as Bluto.

"Makes sense... sort of. Ack. This is too messed up for words. I think I'm going to call that detective back and swear at him a bunch. Maybe find out some more specifics about what's going on."

Do I have any idea how many points I'll need to gain in Communication Swartz before I have decent telepathy?

Detective Thatcher would seem to be in a considerable hurry, about to cross the river heading West. Reality tastes like he's heading to the apartment building.

Clairvoyant insight suggests that decent telepathy begins at 3 points of Communication, with the use of a die. At your current power of Communication, spending a die per word is possible. Reading answers is problematic, beyond their emotional content.

And Bluto? The thought being that if he's still in a prison cell, I'd find his address through the registration in his car and hole up there.

Jacob: "Do you have a spare hoodie? My guess is that Detective Thatcher is heading to the apartment. I'm going to go see if I can talk with him. You guys should be safe here for now."

Bluto is indeed still a lump of resignation and low-burning resentment in about the location of the police lock-up. You're a sneaky one, Mr. Swartz.

Jacob rifles through the lost & found and pulls out a suitably anonymous hoodie. "Stay safe, amigo. I'm going to get Ben slightly drunk, to help pass the time, then I'll drag him to hang out at Sandra's place on Park and Salmon." He scribbles the address and phone number onto scrap of paper. "She's out of town for the next week or so, and would be understanding. And I've got a key."

"Thanks man." I head out and back towards the apartment.

The streets are still bustling with activity, as is common for before midnight on a Saturday night downtown. William is just another member of the faceless crowd. At the apartment building, a different police cordon has been erected. People are coming and going from the building, warily, as they pass through a phalanx of uniformed officers. A coroner's vehicle is present, as are several ambulances.

William can feel Detective Thatcher inside the building. He is a beacon of worry amongst the bright swarm of rage and confusion inside.

I'll wait outside the cordon. If I spot Thatcher's car, I'll lurk near there. Also, I check the windows of my apartment to see if there is any activity inside.

Thatcher's cruiser is completely indistinguishable from all the other standard police cruisers - to most people. William can taste the Thatcher-ness on one, and it is parked somewhat outside of the cordon. Cover is plentiful.

The lights in William's apartment are dark, and he senses that most of the activity is in the utility stairway and in one corridor on the 18th floor.

Excellent. I hide in the cover and if Thatcher comes out I emerge and attempt to get his attention.

Eventually, Thatcher comes back out and strides purposefully towards his cruiser. You catch his eye and he nods, but doesn't alter his trajectory. He gets into the cruiser, fires it up, rolls over near William's cover and opens the passenger door.

"Let's roll, away from this mess."

I hop in.

Hunting those bikers probably didn't phase William too much. He was used to the idea of hunting prey and maybe had a fantasy or two about taking out bad guys. Being noticed and marked by the head biker freaked him out a little, but managing to wipe the mark calmed him down. Having a bunch of possessed cops track him down and try to kill him probably has him in Epic Freak-Out territory. Probably seeing the coroner there has added to the stress as the reality that he helped kill seven cops sinks in. Sure they were possessed, but they were still cops, and generally they're supposed to be the good guys. Anyway, William was holding this all together to get Mike and Ben safe, but now he let's a bit of all that stress get into his voice when he asks Thatcher...

"What the hell happened?!?"

Thatcher's mustache does some agitated caterpillar yoga. "So you're claiming not to know. Good. Somebody massacred a bunch of off-duty and on-probation cops. Who, incidentally, were dressed in SWAT gear. A couple outdoor witnesses say that a bunch of cars had the building surrounded. Also, your apartment along with a few adjacent were entered and tossed, but it seems that nobody was there."

Yeesh... "Ok... so obviously you knew that some cops had gone wacko, or you wouldn't have warned me about them. Is anything being done to contain them? How many more of them are there? Do you know anything about why they were interested in me?"

Thatcher is clearly pained by the question. "We don't know who 'they' are. There's something weird going on in the department: whenever this 'ghost squad' is active, our dispatch completely omits everything about them. We've completely swapped personnel, but it keeps happening."

The cruiser turns down the waterfront and Thatcher smoothly navigates around some intoxicated pedestrians. "About the same time the ghost squad started, I was assigned to investigate... how did they word it? 'Unusually effective individuals' was how they put it. Mostly I've been interrogating insurance adjusters and bikers. The bikers suddenly turn boring after I get wind of them. The insurance adjusters on the other hand started having unpleasantly interesting lives. And then you popped up."

At a stop light, Thatcher turns and locks eyes with William. "Are you with the insurance company?"

"No, I'm not with the insurance company. But I have a feeling I want to meet them. The bikers turned boring? They slaughtered a bunch of people at the Roseland Theatre on Wednesday, and they were part of that firefight at Jamison Square. Doesn't sound boring to me."

I mentally check on where the bikers are and their heading. I also check to see where abouts Thatcher is driving us.

"Is it just Portland? The violence I mean. Have there been marked increases in violence in other cities?"

Thatcher breaks off the interrogation-style eye contact and resumes driving. He's essentially just meandering downtown, keeping to where it is well-lit. The garish lighting means that all anybody can see are reflections in the car windows, so confidentiality is maintained.

The bikers are currently buzzing around in several groups on the East Side. A couple bikes remain at the Lucky Lab.

Thatcher: "I'm not sure I'd recommend meeting the insurance company guys. They're... a bit unsettling. Plus a definite ex-military feel to them." He gives a mustache-curling sneer. "I said the bikers I interrogated got conveniently boring, not the bike gang as a whole. They've definitely gotten worse, and always seem to be able to disappear just before any serious police personnel can be brought to bear. We should have a whole task force dedicated to hunting them, and all the tips that pour in about them, but it hasn't formed yet. And some of us are worried about as to why."

The radio blares into momentary action with incomprehensible chatter. Thatcher picks up the mic. "This is Thatcher. Put him through."

Radio: [jargon chatter chatter jargon] - [pause] "Thatch? You mind heading over to Murphy's place? Unofficially?"

Thatcher [into mic]: "Roger that. Thatcher out."

Without looking at William, he heads over to some covering trees by Veritable Quandary on 1st and Jefferson and stops. "The official word from Salem and Eugene is that everything is hunky-dory, with a mild spike in biker activity. There are rumours, though." He shrugs. "But then, there always are rumours. I have an errand to run. Meanwhile, I suggest you stay low. Give me a call if anything develops - but don't leave any details on my machine. Always ask dispatch to forward you to me, and give me a pay phone number I can call discreetly."

"Ok. Careful of these guys, I have a feeling they're worse than you realize. If you ever need any help from an 'unusually effective individual', especially if it involves medical care, come find me."

I hop out and head off. The plan is to sneak back to where I hid Bluto's keys, get his car, and drive to his place.

Bluto's car is where you left it. and the registration indicates that he lives at SE 2121 Belmont.

I start the car up and drive over. Looks like a fairly short drive. I park a block or so away and walk to his apartment.

William's clairvoyance suggests that god is snickering evilly.

File:EvilGrin.png

First thing not totally suiting: it's a classy building. There is a distinct lack of Firechicken-class automobiles parked outside. Instead the street is mostly filled with expensive European and Japanese vehicles. It's rather quiet, and the clairvoyance does not convey any sense of danger - actually less than even baseline - so William proceeds inside.

Heading up to the 4th floor, the tasteful appointment of the elevator and the complete lack of cigarette burns or butts again seems somewhat out of place for Bluto's projected personality type.

The key turns the lock easily and noiselessly. Once inside, William flicks on the light. It is charmingly, and expensively decorated and... very feminine. Further details of the apartment are missed due to the exclamation of a lady, surprised on the balcony.

"Oh my lord! You startled me!"

She's almost 6 feet tall, athletic build, dressed in a silk housecoat, and trying to calm a half-empty glass of red wine. And she's quite attractive. She arches an eyebrow at you.

"I don't remember giving a key to you, sweetie. You look pretty young. But you are pretty cute."

With clairvoyant certainty, you realize that this is Bluto's mom.

Damnit! So much for looting Bluto's place.

"Oh! I'm really sorry miss. I was returning Bluto's car - he asked me to drive it here before it got towed. And, well, I needed a place to crash, so I figured Bluto's place must be empty, cause well, his troubles, so I came in. I had no idea anyone else would be here, so I'm really, really sorry. So, I'll just leave then. Have a good night."

"Hold on there, sweetie. Tell me about Blutopher's 'troubles'. And why did he ask to have his silly car parked here instead of wherever his sugar-momma-of-the-moment lives, with the rest of his stuff? Give me some straight answers, and we could arrange for you to 'crash' in the spare room here for a while."

William can feel momma-Bluto's willpower advantage over him, and finds it hard to stay. Additionally, there is developing a vague clairvoyant sense that there is... something... potentially game-related here.

Ha! Blutopher. Funny.

I try to mimic a deer caught in the headlights.

"Ok, um, I actually don't know him. I'm really a friend of Jacob's. Bluto came to the bar the other night and attacked Jacob. I was there so I helped fight him off and toss him out. After we tossed him out, I found his keys and was going to just leave them at the bar but them he comes in with two other guys and goes after Jacob again. We fight him off again... and I feel a bit guilty about this, but we had to get pretty rough with him. Anyway, the cops were called and we all got taken in to the police station and I'm pretty sure he's still there."

"I realized I still had his keys, so, um, as a joke, I moved his car and parked it a few blocks away, mostly cause I was still mad for him going after my friend. But then tonight I got tossed out of my place and figured there was nobody at Bluto's, so I figured I would do a 'good deed' and return his car and crash for the night. I got the address from the registration in his car."

I try to focus on what my clairvoyance is telling me as I resist the urge to run for it.

"Ah, a friend of Jacob's." She's practically purring. It would be unsettling, except that she manages to make it seem elegant. "That rings a lot more true. Than the idea of Blutopher having a friend with some semblance of a brain or a neck, I mean. Though I'm having trouble swallowing the 'good deed' facet of the story, but maybe I've become too jaded in my old age. It does pique my curiosity further. How about I pour you a drink..."

She punctuates the start of the suggestion by turning and stalking over to a tall cabinet with a tastefully lacquered wood finish. She reaches above the door to manipulate a hidden lock, and the doors swing smoothly open. Firstly, the doors are heavy steel behind the wood. Then there is an array of pistols (many with suppressors), small assault weapons, sniper rifles, throwing axes, knives and swords. None of the arsenal is ornate - all plain and brutally functional. Nestled in the back are some poisonously-coloured bottles and some glassware. She selects a bottle, balances two heavy tumblers in one hand, and pours a splash in both.

Thanks to William's awareness/locate/clairvoyance, he readily spots that the woman has been keeping an eye on him via mirrors in the cabinet. Perhaps to make sure he does nothing untoward, or perhaps to gauge his reaction. William also recognizes that she see's him seeing her watch him, and their inverse gap in willpower means that she probably accurately gauges his reaction. Namely: wariness, interest, lack of horror.

She turns around, and with a fluid motion sends one heavy tumbler sliding across the hardwood floor towards William. It glides to a stop a scant meter away. "...and you tell me about yourself and what you're hiding from?" She sits cross-legged on the floor, and watches William carefully over the lip of her own glass as she takes a swallow.

I wonder if she ever showed Jacob that arsenal. I pick up the drink and take a sip.

"You wouldn't believe me. Even if you can seemingly read me like a book, I still don't think you'd believe me. And well, I'm a little reluctant to tell you about myself as it could be argued I stole a car. Are you going to call the police on me?" I glance at the cabinet. "Not that I think you'd ever need the police."

Wait, wearing a silk housecoat and sitting cross-legged on the floor? I think poor William's brain might be going into shut-down mode. :)

The drink is truly horrible. It tastes like rarified venom from an asp smothered to death by some licorice. It burns. William's eyes water from just that first sip.

She breathes a long contemplative exhale out through her nose, like she's taken a drag from a cigarette and is playing dragon. "On an axis completely separate from need - I need to avoid police entanglements. Many of the items in this cabinet, including this drink, are quite illegal. So now we both have sufficient here-say to annoy each other with police investigations. Let's trust each other on that level at least. I do love a good story, even unbelievable ones. Especially unbelievable ones. But don't feel required to share anything - because I sure don't." She raises her glass for another swallow, but pauses first to add, "But feel free to ask."

Then she finishes her drink with another long swallow, in a manner vaguely reminiscent of a snake consuming a small rodent.

I'm torn between wanting to run like hell and wanting to find out some information. "There's some people after me... I was downtown last night and saw a shoot out... guys in suits, and bikers, and cops. After it was all done, the cops went looking for witnesses. I saw someone come forward and the cop executed him. A cop. He just shot some poor schmuck who said he saw something. Anyway, some cops came after me tonight and at one point I saw something odd. One of the cops eyes went buggy, pointed in different directions, and he started speaking in a crazy voice. Just like one of those lame movies about someone getting possessed. Anyway, I managed to get away."

"So, I think there's some supernatural shit going down... Or I've gone schitzoid. Either way, it's pretty freaky. Then I happen across you with your arsenal and your death by licorice drink and I'm wondering if you're connected somehow. Are you... supernatural?"

She winces. In a fluid standing-turning motion, she's back at the bar, and pours a largish amount of probably-bourbon into her glass. She takes a healthy swallow, then gasps, "I wasn't expecting that." She coughs daintily into her hand, makes a single step sideways and plops down into an armchair. She points at William with a wry smile. "You. You, I had pegged as an unusually-observant college kid who had seen the fucked-up cops - or some freaky bikers - got noticed or followed, and smart enough not to get trapped at home." She takes another sip, holding up a finger to say she isn't done talking yet.

"My name is Sazerac. Miss Sazerac. You may call me Dalia. And I... was considering you for recruitment. If you weren't so obviously poor, you might qualify for being a client. But no, you're the cocksucking harbinger of doom."

With another swallow, she makes an ugly face. "Supernatural is an amusingly euphemistic way to describe demonic horrors. Started spewing out of Jerusalem. Five years ago." Her eyes work and dart as she fights through descriptions to skip over. "My contacts warned me that the Prime Minister was begging France and Britain to nuke them." She licks her lips. "Not 'nuke the horrors', but 'nuke the whole cradle of civilization' to try to stop the end of the world." She takes a cleansing breath. "I never heard what they showed Britain or France to try to convince them, but they obliged. Nobody knows how many atomics were dropped. But it was a lot."

The amber liquid disappears. "Except it didn't work - not completely. I didn't want to believe any of the rumours about demonic possession percolating through the underground. But with a firsthand, unaffiliated account like yours... Well, fuck. I guess I was kidding myself with possible alternate explanations of the bikers and cops."

"Wait, recruitment? For what?"

Dalia breaks into a cackle. "Out of what I just said, it's the whiff of employment that you have questions about?! Either you don't believe me, or you're amazingly hard to impress with crazy shit. Who ARE you?"

2015.01.15 - Badassery Testing

Further conversations and scheming with Dalia proceed until late at night. The next morning, Dalia drove William to fetch items from their apartment so that they could abandon it. While Dalia quietly stood guard, a biker scout came sniffing around - so she killed him. After which, they loaded William's stuff (including his bike and his roommate's giant calculator) into her Volvo wagon, and headed out to the woods (Oxbow) for William to try out the sniper rifles.

Whilst out giggling, William's clairvoyance starts buzzing ominously. He senses the approach of a group of bikers - tracking him from his existential spoor from the murder scene of the biker scout.

So William and Dalia set up an ambush for them.

Dalia gave William an entrenching tool to make a foxhole in the middle of their sandbar shooting range (with the .30-06) while Dalia took cover in some trees (with the .50-cal).

A few things were learned.

  • William and Dalia learned that there were 8 bikers, instead of just 7.
  • Dalia learned just how surprisingly hard to kill William actually is.
  • William learned that a modicum of hand-to-hand coupled with 5-point physical Swaartz is actually kind of terrifying and devastating to "normals".
  • Several people learned what a flying headless corpse looks like.
  • One biker learned that, with the right equipment, it is possible to be shot through a tree.
  • The bikers learned that they had badly underestimated the tactical situation they were forcing.

Plot Infliction 004 - Spread The Paranoia Around

Dalia: "I think you should take one of the bikes."

William reflects on the ability to cause so much pain with his attacks. I think he's a bit mortified, but also imagining how much fun he could have with it if he were a psychopath. But no, he's going to try to remain on the good side of the alignment chart.

To Dalia: "Good idea." I head to one of the bikes I previously marked - I do a good concentrated search on it for other marks.

The sheer power of the physical Swaartz is meant to have some experience-impairing capability, if invoked. William's clairvoyance is sufficient to suggest that this is true for 5 points in any of the disciplines.

There is an other mark on it the first motorcycle you inspect. It's stubbornly applied. As William focusses on the machine to expunge it of eldritch markings, it occurs to him that it is actually pretty... big. The rider of it was probably 120 kg, while William's 50-odd kg frame will have reach/leverage issues during low-speed maneuvers. There are a couple lower-slung machines that would be less problematic, though they are similarly massive Harley-types. Down the road where the Western group parked, William notes that the female scout had a smaller machine: a Honda Hawk.

A significant swarm of marked motorcycles are now departing the Lucky Lab - about 20. It does not bode well.

Dalia: "I assume that you have some way of making difficult for these demon-bikers to track us, right?"

To Dalia: "You mean like against the 20 or so that just started moving? Not really." I head towards the smaller motorcycle and see if it was also stubbornly marked. "They're probably going to head straight here and then track us from here. I don't think we can handle all of them at once. What do you think about leading them into the wilderness and sniping them at a distance - take them out by attrition?"

"Assuming you still want to help. You've already helped immensely, I'd completely understand if you wanted to just head back to your apartment now. I can lead them away."

The Honda Hawk is slightly less-stubbornly marked, but it is much more sneakily marked. Even so, you feel relatively confident that it is expunged after a few moments hard concentration.

Dalia: "Twenty isn't daunting, by itself. The fact that this is a response to their previously insufficient badassery suggests that they're now sending some considerably-tougher individuals. I'm guessing two to four professionals, with the rest being cover and backup. Or one seasoned combatant, with the rest being purely a distraction."

She takes a look towards Mount Hood. "I'm not a big fan of the woods, personally. I'm more geared towards taking advantage of urban opportunities." She looks back at William. "Are they tracking just you? Because we can use that in our favour. If we lead them to, say, 82nd Avenue, I could snipe them from Mount Tabor with impunity. And if they use their numbers to force a prolonged engagement they run the risk of the non-demon police showing up, right?"

I try to use the clairvoyance to determine if they've figured out I'm not alone.

"That could work. If I can get to a phone in time I could hasten the arrival of the non-demon police. I'm on good speaking terms with a detective who's trying to figure everything out. There's a fairly open area by 82nd avenue and Clay street. Would that work for your sniping?"

I check out the clothing of the female scout. Will it fit me? Also, I start to experiment with the physical Swartz to see how I can change my appearance. Rapid hair growth? Skin colour change? Tattoos?

An interesting question to ply reality with clairvoyantly. You get the sense that they assume you are not alone - because they misunderstand what you are. By their assumptions, William cannot be entirely alone - by definition. That being said, it also feels like this mode of tracking only works against Swaartz-affecting entities.

Dalia smiles viciously. "Oh, from the radio tower on Tabor, I can get a clean sight down most intersections of 82nd from Washington down to Division. The question is: can we get there with time to set up? Are they tracking us, so that we just have to double back by a different route? Or are they homing in on you, such that they might just meet us there?" She does a double-take. "What the hell is happening to your skin? When did you hair get so long? Is that a facial tattoo?!?"

Worth noting that, technically, William could have modified his size as a physical stat to plop a point on. Not instantaneous, mind you - law of conservation of mass mostly still in effect.

"If we're going to potentially have a shoot-out in a public place, I want to look different in case the actual police get involved. Sorry, should have warned you. I'm pretty sure they are tracking, so going back a different route should work. I'll be able to tell for sure once we're under way. If they are homing in on me I'll send the word 'homing' into your head. If that's the case, I'll meander more so that you have time to get set up on Tabor."

Ok, I make my skin darker, lose all the hair and put a spider-web tattoo on my bald head. I check the results in a mirror on the bike. I'll see if I can change my facial structure slightly as well - make myself look older. I put on the dead bikers coat, helmet and leggings if she had any.

"Ready to go?"

Dalia seems satisfied with that, but also leaves the short range ear-radio gear with William. Then heads out in the Volvo wagon.

Losing all the hair means it falls out - it can be coaxed to grow suddenly, but there is no biological mechanism for making it shorter without cutting. Facial structure is difficult to change, and would tend to revert to type when not concentrating on it. However, it is easy to emulate increased wrinkles around the eyes and mouth. The dead biker's pink helmet and black widow leather jacket fit well. Her CFMB's and leotard don't fit right, but aren't particularly useful as riding protection.

Sure enough, the path of the bike armada is unaffected by neither William's or Dalia's movement yet.

Woo! Pink Helmet! I go lose the hair behind a tree and try to bury it or spread it around or something. Just so there isn't an obvious big pile of hair beside the bikes.

What the heck is a CFMB?

Just pause for a moment, and imagine how freaking weird it would look to see a little guy hunch over behind a tree and have his hair slough off into a little scattered mat. Ew.

CFMB

It would look even weirder if I did it with my skin.

Guns! Does the .30-06 travel well on the bike? Probably should grab a backup pistol from one of the dead bikers too.

I could do a seriously nasty zombie costume at Halloween.

The .30-06 has a tactical strap that is good for securing the rifle, however it clearly takes a die to transition between "secured" and "ready" configurations.

The bikers seem to prefer large-calibre handguns. .45 M1911's abound, with a few .357 and .44 Magnum revolvers.

Ok, I grabbed a couple backup M1911s and some extra clips, see if I can find some holsters that fit me, or just use the pockets in the leather jacket.
Onward!

It seems that bikers are not big fans of holsters, so the hand-cannons need to be carried in pockets. It will be misery for initiative, and potentially squandering dice to access during combat. Perhaps they were more concerned about concealment. Which is perhaps not a priority for William at the moment, with the proudly-slung sniper rifle clearly visible as he rides...

Is that a police car up there? Yes, yes it is. William is able to twist his torso to conceal the weapon from the cruiser's line of sight, along with taking advantage of traffic on this lovely Sunday morning.

The ride to 82nd is otherwise uneventful, and William can sense Dalia already up at Mount Tabor... and getting higher. He can feel her calm urgency as she scales the radio tower with the monster rifle.

The bikers are speeding along the freeway, on their way to Oxbow. And William's Swaartz-clairvoyance gives a little tingle of warning. Things might not converge as planned.

No plan survives contact with the enemy

I try to focus my clairvoyance on Dalia, because my paranoia can't shake the knowledge of a seasoned sniper with a scary rifle having a good line of site on me. I see if I get any sense that she's going to turn on me. Assuming that's a no, I find a good place to hide the bike and hide myself such that to approach me, you'd leave yourself open to the view from Tabor. Also, try to find a spot where innocent bystanders seldom travel past.

Dalia... might end up needing William's help.

There is a used car dealership at the end of Clay street that has a main building with virtually no possible approaches without significant time in line of sight of Tabor. Also, the cars prevent vehicular approach.

I radio Dalia: "Make sure you have a good exit strategy up there. If they're tracking our vehicles, they might home in on yours too."

Meanwhile, I look for exit strategies myself - sewer grates, manhole covers, other buildings, etc. Mostly just to get the lay of the land.

Dalia: "You're cute, sweetie. I'm seasoned; I never go anywhere without an exit strategy. Or three."

The nearest manhole is in the street, which is unfortunately somewhat busy with traffic. Though, that will probably change once bullets start flying. The back of the lot has a 10-meter gap to a fence and some back yards. But that's about it.

2015.01.23 - Sunday Morning Mayhem

Bullets & fireballs & lightning, oh my!

The original gang-of-20 bikers turned out to be just 1/3rd of the actual bike gang force brought to bear on crushing William Swartz. They cannily guessed (or clairvoyantly knew) that William was only tracking the one platoon, so used that to try to flank him and thereby ruin whatever trap might have been planned. They lacked sufficient imagination or clairvoyance to suspect that there was a horribly effective sniper using a giant cannon on top of a radio tower on a mountain 1.16 km away.

REVEALED: The triune nature of the Swaartz-dimensional beings in their human possessions. The bike gang consisted of three main leaders who were all connected. Each of the three held considerable sway over their own direct minions.

REVEALED: .50-calibre rifle rounds are really hard to duck without some prescience. No, that's not a revelation - that's just simple physics. What was more poignantly demonstrated was just how messy the not-ducking could be.

REVEALED: When one of the triune is killed, the other two go a bit crazy. Not only psychologically, but also with respect to Swaartzian powers they seem able to wield.

REVEALED: Instead of dealing death to a large number of experience-insignificant green combatants, William cleverly gained bonus Defender experience by catching all their bullets with his internal organs. Repeatedly. Enough to have died, repeatedly.

REVEALED: When two of the triune are killed, the remaining one is a hot mess. Scary and hard to kill.

REVEALED: An entire squad of regular police officers are no match for a single super-powered biker. Especially when the biker is doing a reasonably good impression of Emperor Palpatine. They paid for their lack of vision.

REVEALED: Never, ever, let an angry William Swartz touch you if he has 4 action dice free.

Plot Infliction 005 - Slight Paranoia Retraction?

As I drive the motorcycle to the address Dalia gave me, I lose the tattoo, regrow the hair and make my skin look normal. I give myself a moment of optimism. The demon-bikers are dead and it seems like their gangs are disbursing. I feel like my vengeance for Naomi's death has been satisfied. I'm guessing the demon-bikers were the ones controlling the cops, so hopefully I won't have to worry about them anymore. I can get back to school and try to finish my degree. Life should return to some semblance of normalcy.

For the extra Swartz points, I put two into Communication, and one into Aether.

As you close in on the rendezvous address, you can sense god snickering.

The address itself is a lot surrounded by a high fence. One gate swings open as you approach; Dalia drags it inward and gestures to to ride through. Inside the high fence is a large cargo container, with wheels mounted for being pulled by a class-8 truck. A simple ramp leads up to the door, though the door is still fastened with several large padlocks. On top of the container is a few deck chairs, and an umbrella. Dalia's Volvo is parked randomly nearby.

The level-3 Communication Swartz means for an immediate coalescing of understanding about what people are thinking instead of just the fuzzy sense of what they're feeling. Coupled with the level-3 Clairvoyance, it feels like it should allow for reasonable communication with people you know. Plus some unfair insights, obviously. There is also a sense that, with the level-5 Physical, other things might be transmissible.

the Level-1 Aether, is a tantalizing hint as to the transmutability of space and time. More specifically, it allows for a 1000N "smack", a 100N "throw", or a 10N "manipulate".

I clamber up to the top of the container and sit on one of the deck chairs. "Aaaaaah, now all we need are some of those drinks with the little umbrellas in them." I test out the Comm-Swartz by seeing if I can read Dalia's thoughts to glean what's inside the container - I assume she's thinking about it somewhat, or we wouldn't be here. Unless it's just somewhere I can stow the motorcycle...

Invisible from ground level, but revealed once reaching the top of the container, is a stashed array of alcohol in niches along the corrugations. Also, plastic cups, but no umbrellas.

Dalia closes the gate and locks it. "Drinks we can do, but later. First, let's clean up." The thoughts leaking from Dalia are worries about what she's experienced, and professional methodical considerations for avoiding capture. To pry further into her mind requires either asking or forcing, with involve willpower and/or awareness.

Next Dalia unlocks the various padlocks - not with a key, but by picking them - and opens the door to the cargo container. Then she slips inside.

I jump down and assuming I don't get any danger sense from the clairvoyance, follow her inside.

Inside the cargo container is a smörgasbord of odd material. Industrial drums of reagents, crates of ammunition, assorted electronic components, tools both familiar and exotic, racks and racks of clothes and accessories, and a 1980 500 SEL with some suspiciously light-distorting windows. The interior is currently lit by an array of black lights, which reveal a great many unfortunate stain-class entities on both you and Dalia.

"I've got a selection of powerful cleansers we can try..." She shrugs off her blood-stained jacket and pants and starts scrubbing her hands and face in a huge mirror over a giant metal sink. "Be extra-sure to get under the fingernails. It's best to leave no trace to link us to the violence. After we clear our skins and clothes, we should clean the vehicles. I'm afraid that the bike might have been documented, so we should ditch the plates at the very least." She points at the .30-06. "It's also probable that a description of that might be current, so we should take it out of circulation for a while."

I take off the biker's bullet ridden coat and toss it aside. Then I start working on cleaning the hands, trying to be as thorough as possible. Then I'll head over to the racks of clothing and see if there's anything in my size, preferable for my gender. "I'm ok with ditching the bike. If I don't see another motorcycle for a while, I'll be happy. Shame about the rifle though, but then again, I'm hoping this mess is over and I won't need it."

Under the biker's bullet-ridden coat is your extremely well-perforated and blood-soaked t-shirt and hoodie. Your jeans are bloodied, but suffered much less penetrating projectile damage. The boots will needs some scrubbing as well.

There is both male and female clothing available, ranging from boring to costumes. All of it is approximately Dalia's size, of course. But, as it happens, William isn't far from that size - just a lot shorter, and more powerfully built.

Dalia finishes cleaning herself up, then wads up the beyond-cleaning clothing and delicately inserts it into an industrial-sized drum of 12-molar hydrochloric acid. She pulls on a new t-shirt and a nondescript sweater, and starts cleaning the sniper rifles with practiced ease.

"We should pull some unremarkable-looking hunting rifles from the lower weapons locker, to serve in the mean time. I'd also offer a nice throat-slitter, but it seems like you don't need such a trinket. I'm not even going to ask what horribleness you were inflicting on that monster, much less how it was able to soak up so much punishment." The .50-cal is already field-stripped, and she's squirting oil onto a swab patch to clear the barrel. "The motorcycle is probably best left hidden in here for now - we can find a quiet morning some other time to ditch it if you want." A quick wipe-down, and the big rifle starts going back together. "Though, honestly, a motorcycle is a crappy way to get around in Portland - the roads are almost always damp. It turns them from a performance edge into, all too often, twitchy and unable to be used anywhere near potential. A car with decent balance, however, can be flogged to run fast in almost any conditions, if you need to. Also, more discretion for carrying sniper rifles and bodies. Speaking technically." The big gun is all shiny and clean, then gets clipped into a large, secure case and stowed in the 'big gun' locker.

"After we wash the Volvo, we should head out for brunch. I'm starving."

I carefully toss the shirt and hoodie into the acid as well, and grab some replacements. I'll scrub the boots and jeans while Dalia's cleaning the gun.

The mention of food probably alerts William to his probably intense hunger at this point. "Yeah, food sounds like a good idea."

Cleaning the Volvo goes quickly; a pressure washer rapidly removes all external clues, and a blacklight-enhanced swabbing of the all-plastic interior expunges any internal clues. Dalia and William drive away after everything is locked up. First she drives to the garage by her apartment, and parks the Volvo. "You want to share a ride to someplace for food, or are you considering continued use of Blutopher's Firechicken?" She is transferring to another Mercedes 500 SEL, this one seems to be lacking in bulletproof glass.

"Sharing a ride sounds good. After that, I think I'll just take the bicycle. Seems more normal to me, and I'm craving normal."

What time is it? Time seems to be a bit distorted. I check on the roommates and Mike to see if they're where I left them.

"Right - the bicycle. It's still in the back of the Volvo, along with a bunch of your stuff from the apartment. Should we stuff some or all of that into the Merc?"

It's about noon on Sunday. The gun range action having been just after dawn, and the follow-up violence being mid-morning. Escape and clean-up took the rest of the morning.

The room mates are both downtown-ish, but not exactly together. Mike is out McMinnville way. None of them seem to think of themselves as being in immediate danger, though all of them are feeling extremely wary.

"Yeah, let's put it all in the Merc."

The bike, the books, the tools, the clothes all get swallowed up by the huge trunk. A pair of hunting rifles are tucked under the carpet as well. Then the pair of you roll downtown and find a nice spot for brunch. William gets a pile of fuel, and Dalia gets some food to soak up the alcohol she orders.

Dalia: "So, it seems to me that we're effectively partners now. For at least this crazy demonic bullshit stuff - right?"

"To be honest, I'm hoping the crazy demonic bullshit is over for now. But I have a feeling the universe isn't that nice. So, yeah, partners. The question I'm not sure about is if the demon bikers were influencing or controlling the demon cops, or if the cops are a whole other bit of scariness we have to deal with. And then there's this insurance company that seems to be involved, but I have no idea how yet. Damn, that reminds me. I should call back Thatcher, he's probably wondering what happened to me."

"I'm so not complaining, but I'm having trouble understanding why you want to be involved at all. If our positions were reversed, I'd be seriously considering getting as far away from me as possible."

All that is said between mouthfuls of whatever food I'm scarfing down.

Dalia sips contempatively. "We had one biker start breathing fire, and another started flying, shooting lightning from his hands, and spontaneously healing from multiple hits from a .50-caliber. Seems to me that forming an alliance with a kid that can magically heal and is somewhat psychic might be handy, in context. Because, let's face it: this is about as far from demonic ground zero as is possible. There's no running away anywhere safer." She smiles awkwardly. "Mostly, I was going to warn you that by hanging out with me, people are going to assume that you are my boy toy. I have a reputation."

William can hear her thinking about what reputation he might have.

"Ha! That's funny. Meh, let 'em assume. If anyone get's cocky, I'll melt his face off." Pause. "Kidding. So, I might be largely phone free for the next bunch of days. Want me to check in periodically? I'm probably going to hang out at the university a lot. And the brewery."

"Yeesh, if this as far away from ground zero as you say, can you imaging what Europe must be like? This is starting to sound a lot like a war."

Dalia smiles. "You might consider getting a phone with an answering machine you can check remotely. But, yeah, checking in would be useful. I'll start quietly getting more on what there is to know about the cops - mostly whether they'll fade away now." She pushes away her empty plate and causes an appropriate amount of cash to appear on top of the cheque.

"A war would imply two or more sides than can possibly exert influence in a way that one side can achieve something like victory. I'm worried that this is less of a war, and more of a pacification of the natives. Or worse, that it is a war, and we're just the prize they're fighting over."

I nod at the cheque and pile of cash - "Thanks."

Dalia purrs in a disturbing way, "Oh, it pays to be my boy toy." She cracks herself up, and adds, "Besides, you probably saved me a small fortune in surgery." She elegantly transitions to standing, suggesting that it's time to go. "Want me to drop you off somewhere?"

"Sure, I should probably meet up with Ben - he's my other roommate - and return his stuff. He's downtown, so if you want to just drop me off downtown somewhere, I can bike the rest of the way."

Through the staggering power of William's awareness, he deduces that they are already downtown.

Ahem. "No, I don't need a ride. I can bike from here. Let's go unload your car." I help get all my stuff out, bid Dalia a farewell, and then start biking towards Ben.

Actually, on the way I stop by a payphone and call Detective Thatcher.

The phone call to the police department gets bounced to dispatch, who ask in a stress-denying flat affect, "Is this an emergency, or can you leave a message on Detective Thatcher's machine?"

On second thought, maybe I'll just track him down in person at some point and talk to him then. I hang up and continue on to find Ben.

Ben hasn't moved in a while, and has a general aura of hiding-ness. The bike ride is only about a kilometer, but it's awkward balancing the over-stuffed backpack of books and clothes. Outside the building is a buzzer-activated door. A pay phone is at the corner.

I think Jacob gave me the address, so hopefully it includes what room number. If so, I try the buzzer. Otherwise, I head to the payphone and give the place a call and let Ben know I'm out front.

As it happens, Jacob cunningly omitted the room number. So phoning is the logical progression - for a normal person. However, William can sense Ben on the third floor, and there are tenants coming and going with sufficient regularity that William could just slip inside.

I'll try calling first. If he doesn't answer, then I'll slip in.

A female voice answers the phone, and hands it over to Ben when you ask. "Hello? Please be Will, or else this was a stupid breach of security..." You can hear him forcing himself not to glower at the girl for de-facto announcing that he is there. He has clearly spent too much time dwelling on the other night.

"Yeah, it's me. I'm out front and Jacob didn't give me the room number. Want to come let me in?"

"Right. Sure thing."

About a minute later, Ben is holding the door open for William. Everything piles into the elevator, and thence to the apartment. A girl lurks gawkily nearby as you lean your bike in the hallway.

Ben: "Yeah, this is Ellie. Apparently she's another stray who assumes 'Sandra' won't mind if she crashes here."

Ellie gives a faux smile. Her mind is annoyed at the lack of privacy for her secret Wicca/Voodoo ceremony she hopes to conduct to curse her ex-friend.

Ben is boiling over with frustration at having to not discuss things.

I smile at Ellie and say to Ben: "Want to head out for a bit? I'm hungry." I see if there's a spot inside the apartment to put the bike.

Ben stashes everything in the spare room he's using, and then the pair of you head out for a stroll.

Ben: "Good to hear that you're OK; the radio has been saying there was a run in between the cops and bikers, and that it turned into a bit of a bloodbath. I worried that you might have been in the middle of that. "

"Where did the phrase 'bloodbath' ever come from. I mean has anyone actually taken a bath in blood? Anyway, if we're lucky, the bikers and the evil cops all killed each other. So, you ok staying with voodoo girl for a while? I think she digs you. Are you still thinking about leaving the city?"

Ben: "Well, William, I suspect that you are underestimating the ongoing influences of ancient Aztec culture - where young virgins, such as yourself, would potentially be exsanguinated for the purposes of bathing by the emperor. Wait - what do you mean 'voodoo girl', and how in the hell does constant sulking and passive-aggression translate into 'digging me'?"

He does an un-subtle, paranoid look around. "Do you think it was the psycho cops? Because that would be huge relief." He stops, does a look back over his shoulder in the direction of the hideout apartment. "Except, you brought me stuff here instead of saying we should head back to our own place. So you think it's possible the psycho cops are still a factor. Fuckballs."

A few uncomfortable paces further. "See, the thing is I can't really afford to go anywhere. Like, literally, bus fare would wreck me, and my parents would have a longhorn cow. Plus I'm far enough into student loans now that I really need to finish my degree so I can have a hope of landing a job lucrative enough to pay it off. So, yeah, I'm resigned to out-wait Ellie, whatever her story is. But this Sandra chick will return eventually, and I doubt she wants some friend-of-a-friend nerd living with her."

He pauses. "I assume you've found a place to crash?"

"Yeah, until there's no chance of psycho cops, we should probably avoid the apartment. I found a place to crash last night, but still looking tonight. Don't worry, I'll find something. Hopefully in a few days we can go back, or heck just find another apartment."

"Anyway, I just wanted to check on you. I've got some stuff to check on at the university, so I should get going. Let's go grab my bike."

We head back to Ellie, I grab my stuff and start riding south. Mostly just wanted to get away from Ben because I have a feeling I'm going to be a magnet for trouble soon.  :)

With the assumption that nothing extraordinary happens for another week, what would William do?

Well, the three of us should find a new apartment, and don't register the address with anyone. If we ever get mail, we should get a post office box. Aside from that, study and schooling. Hang out at the brewery occasionally. Call Dalia every couple days to check in. Ditto with Mike and parents.

At least once, I plan to sneak into the children's wing of the hospital and find a really sick kid - leukemia or something, and while they are sleeping, give them a miraculous cure. I don't want to make the disease disappear entirely, just go into remission so the kid will be ok. After all the violence, I need something to give me the warm and fuzzies.

But yeah, really focus on the studies. Not sure how long I'm going to be able to keep it up before something fubar comes along, so hitting the books while I can.

What does William tell Detective Thatcher?

Right. I tell him I was at the battle briefly, and I thought the bikers were after me so that's why I called. But it turned out they were after some bald guy with a tattoo, so I hid. Once I heard the gunfire, I snuck away, hopped on the bike, and rode away very, very fast.

2015.01.29 - Enter A Templar

Apparently the Roman Catholic Church has Swaartz-powered combat priests. One of them showed up in the PDX police station for questioning, and Detective Thatcher brought in William to question him. William subsequently meets up with Brother Edgar, who tells of a demon-fighting brotherhood in The Church, based primarily in Western Europe.

A bunch of evil cops show to be evil, and all need to be put down. The death of the final one was rather public, and several witnesses observed William do the deed. William and Brother Edgar then flee...

Plot Infliction 006 - A Blow To The Pittock Empire

Brother Edgar: "Which way to St. Michael's?"

"No idea." I heal him the rest of the way up to full. "There, no one will think you were part of the fight now. Go be an innocent bystander that is now running away. Probably head north west for a while, and then just blend into the crowd. I'll contact you tomorrow."

I then sneak off. The plan is to sneak out of the car park, sneak away a block or two and find a good place to hide. Healing as I go. Then when I'm good and hidden, I contact Thatcher's brain: "So that's twice that shortly after meeting with you, psychotic cops try to kill me. If I were the paranoid sort, I would begin to think you're bad for my health." I try to convey a sense of controlled, yet seething rage in my telepathic voice. "We need to meet again. After you're done here, go to some random café downtown and wait for me there."

I start sneaking again. Looking for a lone male about my size. Going to sneak after him, while probing his thoughts to try and figure out his name. Once I got that, I use telekinesis to make a noise down somewhere secluded, and try to telepathically increase his curiosity (if possible). If he takes the bait, I walk up to him and say his name, and say, "Man, it's been a while. How's it going?" And I offer to shake his hand. If he takes it, I try to knock him out and then do a clothing swap.

Brother Edgar seemed conflicted about leaving you, but got away as planned.

Detective Thatcher is appropriately appalled and frustrated by the way events unfolded - on top of his fundamental discomfort with having his thoughts interrupted externally. He grudgingly complies, and goes to one of the 400 café-class businesses in and around Pioneer Square.

The clothing swap goes terrifyingly well.

For good measure, I cure whatever chronic ailments the guy I mugged may have as payment for the clothing I steal. I try to partially wake him up before I leave so that he's conscious in a few minutes. Then it's off to find Detective Thatcher. I go on foot, I'll circle back and get my bike later.

When I find him, I sit at his table, and then concentrate really hard and see if I can find the mark I think is on him.

There is indeed a mark on Detective Thatcher, but it seems a little unusual. As if who-or-what-ever marked him only really looked at the back of his head.

Thatcher: "If you can talk directly into my brain, why do we need to meet?"

"It occurred to me that you might be marked and I wanted to check. I don't think I could have checked from a distance. A psychic can 'mark' someone so that they can later find them, either physically, or their mind. That's how I was able to find out what café you were at. Now, I'm not sure, but here's what I think is happening. You were given an assignment to find 'effective' people by your superiors. Either your superiors are demons or they were given the idea by the demons. So you went out and found them, and because you are marked, the demons read your mind, found out and went to hunt them. That's why those insurance guys were hunted, and why they came after me. They're using you like a bloodhound. So, when they found out you were interrogating Brother Edgar or found out I was coming in, they came to take us out. I'm not sure exactly which one of us the target was."

I telepathically contact Brother Edgar: "Did you mark Thatcher?"

"So, I think it's obvious now that there's a demon running amuck in the Portland police force. From what I've been able to learn lately, the demon will possess three people - at least that's how it worked with those bikers. So there's likely three cops that are possessed. And then those three will be exerting control over a bunch of others. I think I've seen one of the three. Do you have any suspicions about who might be running the off-duty evil cops?"

Am I able to transmit images telepathically, or only words?

You can sense that while Detective Thatcher is still partially unable to completely believe all of this magic/demon/stuff is going on, what you are saying makes sense in context of his paranoia. It is not a happy or hopeful aura he wears.

Brother Edgar: "My powers in that realm are very limited, so I save them for more poignant targets." It is worth noting that Edgar seems somewhat familiar with telepathic communication - in that he does a pretty good job of distinguishing/projecting his 'communication' thoughts.

William can communicate feelings/sensations effortlessly, and can convey language with effort. Clairvoyance suggests that his level-5 Physical Swartz could be used to augment Communication - if you touch somebody, capabilities would increase. Language would become effortless, and possible convey sensory information or complicated 'understandings' with effort.

A subtle trill comes from Thatcher's waist. He thinks "radio". He hauls out a walkie talkie, turns up the volume and says, "Thatcher, going to Channel-21. Over." Amongst the chatter coming through the radio, Thatcher recognizes a dispatch operator confirming the side-channel. He then twists a knob, thinking, "21". "Thatcher ready. Over."

More gabble comes through. Thatcher hears, "off-duty cop", "survivor", "cop-killer witnessed", and "requesting Thatcher". He is troubled, and a tiny bit conflicted - briefly. "Thatcher coming in. Over and out."

Thatcher: "Things just got even more complicated. I have to go. You need to stay out of sight. I'll call you when I learn anything."

Survivor?

I touch his hand and try to convey an image of that original cop back at the Roseland theatre that seemed to be leading the SWAT team. "Watch out for this guy. He's one of them. I'll keep my head down."

After he's gone, I'll start wandering back towards my bike. On the way I'll change my skin and eye colour. Plan is to grab the bike and head home. I'll change my appearance back to normal before I get there.

Upon seeing the image of the lead Faux-SWAT officer, Thatcher thinks, "Frank Drebin!" And quakes with fear.

Nobody in the Friday evening crowd pay much notice to William, in neither his camouflage nor regular appearance. Back at the apartment, Ben and Jacob are arguing over some shared joke. When William arrives, they are delighted.

They both leer at William as he enters, and Jacob manages to say, "So... Dalia, hmmm?" They stare ravenously at William, hungry for signs of embarrassment.

I put on my best shit-eating grin. "Dalia... hmmmmmm... Did she call?"

Jacob: "Yeah. She left a message on the machine saying that she needs to talk to you soon. Tonight. She sounded... desperate."

Ben: "Say, Jacob, isn't that the name of Bluto's mom?"

Jacob: "Why yes, Ben, it is."

Ben: "And, Jacob...?"

Jacob: "Yes, Ben?"

Ben: "Didn't you say that you happened to know that she was - how did you describe it? - ravenous? Sexually? For younger men?"

Jacob: "Quite so, my young friend. QUITE so."

The sniggering and teasing continues as William goes through the motions of checking the messages. Dalia's message is rather thin on details - she just states that you need to talk as soon as possible. The real meat of the message is in her tone - very insistent. What Jacob and Ben are mistaking for hot MILF needs take on a totally different tone when coming from a seasoned assassin.

While I'm listening to the message, I check on Dalia's location. When it's done, I continue to pretend I'm listening, while I contact her telepathically. "Hey, Dalia. Sorry for the intrusion on your brain, but your message sounded urgent. I'm ok, I had another run-in with the cops, but got away."

I'm also keeping an eye on Thatcher's location. I assume he's back at the police station by now. If he leaves, I'll try to listen in on his thoughts to see where's he going.

Dalia is currently in transit - probably driving near the river. When you contact her she pauses momentarily. "What time did you have your 'run-in' with the cops? Because 40 minutes ago I was having a drink with a contact at the newspaper when he was called away to cover a murder at the Pittock estate. Apparently Henry Pittock III was killed... by ninjas. With magical powers."

Thatcher is, apparently, at OHSU. His thoughts are too tumultuous to read clearly at this range. However, you glean that you are being further targeted, and now it's becoming official.

Dalia: "The thing with the cops was around that time, but it wasn't anywhere near the Pittock estate. It was downtown. Unfortunately there were witnesses, so I may be screwed."

Brother Edgar: "Someone was killed at the Pittock estate. Do you know anything about that?"

Thatcher: "I have a feeling it's going to be difficult to go to school on Monday. This is going to put a kink in my career plans."

Telepathy rocks. However, I put the phone down and look at my roommates. "I had another run-in with the psycho cops. Only this time there were witnesses. I think I may have to disappear for a while."

Dalia: "This is a pretty big deal, in terms of Portland industry. And if it's driven by some more demonic forces, this sounds like something we should be hunting down. Better to destroy enemies before they get too powerful..."

Brother Edgar: "I have not heard anything yet. What should I tell the Bishop?"

Thatcher: "Agreed. This testimonial stinks. But I think whoever orchestrated this doesn't understand how investigations work. I think I can torpedo it."

Ben and Jacob are both caught off guard, and start spluttering.

Jacob: "Shit, dude. How can we help?"

Dalia: "Right now I'm more interested in hunting down demon-cops, but I agree that the Pittock thing is serious too. Want to go check it out? I may be able to track the killer."

Brother Edgar: "Um... I don't know if there's anything to tell. Someone mentioned a magical ninja, so thought it might be something to do with all this mess. Anyway, gotta go." And I leave his brain. I leave Thatcher's too.

Ben & Jacob: "I'm not sure if there's anything to do. I still have Thatcher on my side so hopefully he'll be able to keep a lid on it. One thing Jacob, if the regular cops are going to come looking for me, they might come to you at the brewery tonight to find out where we live. It would probably be a good idea to tell them that while you still live with Ben, I went out on my own. And you have no idea where."

Dalia: "If these magical ninjas aren't actually demon cops, who are they? I say we find out. Let me know where to pick you up."

Brother Edgar seems purposeful.

Thatcher is scheming.

Jacob: "Dude, as far as anyone knows, I still officially live at our old apartment and just have been staying at friends houses for a while."

Ben: "Me too. Except less believably."

Dalia: "Just park somewhere downtown. I'll come to you."

Jacob/Ben: "Ok. Well, I think I'll go talk to Dalia... and well, I think it would be best if it were in person. Y'know, phones can be so impersonal. I'll see you guys later... or tomorrow. I'll try to contact Thatcher tomorrow and see how deep I'm in."

Jacob: "Got it; might as well have interesting company while lying low. I'll leave a message if anyone comes sniffing around the bar."

Dalia pulls the Volvo wagon inconspicuously into the densely-parked streets around the Arlene Schnitzer concert hall, which is easy to get to unobserved due to the plentitude of covering crowds. Stuffing the bike in the back of the Volvo, Dalia drives to Burnside and heads up the hill. It's not far to the woods around the mansion. She parks in the neighbourhood, outside the frankly impressive police and emergency vehicle presence.

Dalia, snickers. "Going to be hard to keep the reporters out of this, considering that the Pittocks own The Oregonian. Among other things. Where shall we start?"

On the drive over, I fill her in on my conversation with Brother Edgar.

"If I can get close, I may be able to read the minds of any witnesses or cops who might know something. But getting close might be tough. If can get to where one of the attackers were, I should be able to track them. Let me go take a look around."

I get out of the car and wander around the edge of the woods. I use the clairvoyance to see if can determine how close I could get to the mansion before I run into people.

Contemplating the woods surrounding the mansion grounds, William's woodcraft informed by his high awareness and Communication Swaartz show that he could most likely slip through the clumsy investigators tromping through the forest trails. Closer approach across the lawns to the mansion itself is less certain. The Clairvoyance tingles - some Swaartz-demon assets are somewhere in this mix, being sly.

Well, let's at least get to the edge of the lawns so I can take a look around, maybe hear some stray thoughts.

Slipping through the woods turns out to be even easier than hoped; so many disparate teams are scouring for clues on the ground that nobody is watching for non-police/technician humans. William and Dalia find generous cover in a tree at the edge of the lawns. William can sense grimly business-like thoughts from coroners and evidence technicians. "Beheaded" percolates occasionally. A perimeter of police and bright lights prevent closer observation. However, a clustering of non-police seems to be at one of the outbuildings, which is conveniently adjacent to the woods. And somewhere in that group, there is a disturbance in the Swaartz.

"Someone was beheaded. And there's something interesting at that outbuilding." I start sneaking over.

William uses his knowledge of moving through wooded areas and his high awareness to move to the target building unnoticed. Dalia slinks haughtily with high enough awareness, but coupled with a willingness to rely on her +8 to hide if she flubs a sneak roll.

The scene at the security building is of a crowd of reporters - and random people - badgering the police for information. There is a considerable amount of ill will between the two groups floating ethereally. From William's perspective, it becomes apparent that there are Swaartz-enabled being/s in both sides.

All-righty then. Both Dalia and I hide where we have a clear view, and then one by one I concentrate on the people. First the cops, and then the crowd. I'll put a couple dice into mind reading, and/or clairvoyance to determine what they're thinking, and if they have the Swaartz. For those that have the Swaartz, I'll mark them for later. Trying to find any information related to the crime.

Scaning the cops, William mostly sifts through leaking thoughts of "annoying vultures". Then he comes across one police officer that has a mental taste of Swaartziness, and he's looking for... insurance adjusters. As William focuses his clairvoyance to Swaartz-annotate his existence, he flinches visibly - and starts looking in William's general direction.

Dalia mutters, "Oh, shit." Both of you are hidden well enough to not have immediate worries, but it seems as though your approximate location might now be known. The cop hauls out his portable police radio, and mutters something into it. His mind is disturbingly well shielded. "Yeah, we've got limited time in this spot now. Circle around from a different vantage, or bug out?"

"Nah, let's bug out. I know who he thinks did this. Ever hear of Hukari Insurance? The bikers were killing their insurance adjusters and I think the cops were too. Seems like they're a rival demon faction."

"To be honest, I'd rather not mess with them right now. I've already got one demon group after me. Pissing off another one seems like asking for stupid amounts of trouble. Though I'm curious why they wanted to take out Pittock."

William and Dalia extract themselves from the crowded crime scene. Where do they go next?

Do I know where they'd take the body? If I could touch the body, I may be able to use clairvoyance to gain some insight to what was going on when he was killed. Let's check for ambulances still at the scene, and maybe get close to read the minds of paramedics, drivers, etc. Trying to find out if the body has been taken away yet.

The most likely place for the body to be taken is OHSU. There are no ambulances present, but there is a non-trivial Coroner's Office personnel present.

Hmmmm... idea forming. Might require some combat though. The police/technicians searching through the forest. We could find a couple of them and I could try to knock them out. Dalia and I could steal their uniforms and sneak into the mansion. I run it past Dalia to see what she thinks.

Dalia thinks you're insane, but finds that to be something actually appealing in plan generation - in moderation. Like spice.

She also commends you on your progressive thinking, but the awkward truth is that a female police officer/technician would be someone that every male in the 1982 police force would know on a first-name basis. Better off if just William bothers to suit up after quietly subduing a pod of wood-zone investigators. Dalia can watch from the tree line, and offer exfiltration support if necessary.

Combat turns out to not be strictly necessary. A lot of stealth plus a generous helping of psychic powers on top of the ability to render most low-stage people instantly unconscious makes it actually kind of easy. With one awkwardly-undressed officer cunningly hidden in some underbrush, William moves brazenly across the lawns to the main house. A gentle Communication Swaartz ward for unwanted attentions lets William walk past the personnel walking the grounds. All the intensive investigating thoughts are concentrated in the upper floor, so William heads up there for a look.

A dozen plastic-covered technicians are peering into every corner of the lush upstairs lounge. A comedic sprawled shape is chalked into the carpet, and where the head would have been on the cartoon is instead an ominous dark patch. A small plastic marker several feet away seems to indicate where the head landed.

"Mister Swartz. It is interesting that you should show up here. Now." The oddly-cadenced voice comes from a tall man in a well-tailored suit - and it seems to be said in a way that causes it to be completely ignored by all the forensic technicians. He eyes you through thick glasses, and though his face is essentially expressionless it manages to convey a suggestion of deeply wearied disdain.

Well, fuck. I pause a moment to shake off the deer-in-headlights feeling, and then say: "Well, you know, nothing like checking out a crime scene to distract you from your troubles." Before I focus on glasses dude, I'm going to try to go to the ominous dark patch and place my hand on it. See if I can gain any clairvoyant insight from the blood.

William encroaches into the crime scene's core, and makes contact with the blood stain. The Communication and Clairvoyance are augmented by the level-5 Physical Swaartz - but all that can be gleaned right away is a jumble of sadness/fear/loss/DEAD.

A technician notices William and starts to protest. "Hey, flatfoot, what do you think you're doing?"

Glasses Dude waves a hand and commands, "Don't. Worry." The tone seeps into the minds of the police staff present, and they relax back into their work. Then he adds, in the nobody-else-hears-it voice, "This could be interesting."

"So, you know who I am... I'm not sure I really want to know, but are you part of the same group of cops that have been making my life interesting as of late?"

To Dalia: "So, I think I might be chatting with a head demon that's running the evil cops. And it looks like he's got the ability to control people's minds. I'm probably screwed."

I look around to see if I can determine where the intruder entered the room from.

Dalia: "Run! Tell me which way you're going so I can cover you!"

The blood is telling William to look up.

Glasses Dude remains expressionless, but his perpetual aura of disdain flickers with amusement. "No, Mister Swartz, you seem to work with the police more than I. I'm with Hukari Insurance."

Dalia: "Hold on, he says he isn't a cop."

I look at Glasses Dude. "Hukari Insurance? That explains a lo... well, nothing actually." I look at the body outline on the floor. "Did you kill him?" As he's answering, I glance up quick and do a locate.

The room is technically 2 stories tall itself, with a vast arching ceiling and a magnificent glittering skylight. And somewhere, up there, impossibly high, is a tiny speck of the victims blood. On the outside of the glass. Glass which is possibly no longer actually sealed.

Glasses Dude follows William's glance up. "Impressive. Very impressive. Indeed, you have grown powerful." He removes his glasses and squints. "Ah. That could be the start I'm looking for." His eyes become heavy-lidded for a moment of concentration, then he replaces his glasses. "No, Mister Swartz, I did not kill Mister Pittock. And, more reassuringly, it seems likely that neither did you." He starts to stride away in his dark, pinstriped suit, and all the technicians seem to conveniently time their need to shuffle to one side or another in a manner that clears an easy path for him.

A delicate clinking sounds from above, attracting nobody else's attention. A crow is now perched on the skylight, inspecting... something. Then it flutters off.

2015.02.05 - Demon Ninja

  • Tracked the blood. (Only somewhat creepy.)
  • Confronted Demon-powered ninja in 11th-floor apartment. After a pause, the demons powered him up.
  • DpN got assassinated, and everything seemed to be going according to plan.
  • Demonic entity decided it didn't want to give up, so started operating the body of the DpN like a violent marionette.
  • In the ensuing fracas, it was determined that the flesh golum was basically indestructible, and that William can survive being thrown out an 11th-story window.
  • William and Dalia managed to flee, but not before the demons puppeteering the flesh golem threatening William's family and then letting the flesh golem revert to a beanbag-like state.

Plot Infliction 007 - A Time To Hunt

Chatting with Dalia... "So, I think we could do the most good by finding out the three leader demon cops and killing them. That should release all the other cops from their influence. I know the face and name of one of them. And if we kill him, the other two should go a bit nutty which should make them easier to identify. Let's stop somewhere and find a phone book. I want to check if the cop is listed."

Mark check: Is Thatcher still as OHSU? Roommates and family where I would expect them to be? Also, I keep a mental eye on that cop I marked at the mansion. Is he still there?

Dalia: "Hunting a known demon is definitely in alignment with my personal style. Who is it?" Phone books are readily located. There are no Drebins listed.

Thatcher is no longer at OHSU - now heading downtown. Kith/kin marks are all appropriately located and sans duress. Cop from the Pittock mansion is still there.

"Frank Drebin. He's not in the phone book. Figured that was a long shot, but what the hell. Maybe hide somewhere near the police station and keep an eye out for him?"

I do a light read on Thatcher's thoughts - nothing that would let him notice, just a listen on his surface thoughts.

Dalia: "Frank Drebin... that sounds familiar. I can check my contacts. Instead of just lurking around the police station, couldn't you just ask your contact Detective person? Though, if all else fails, I suppose that lurking could work too."

Other than mental exclamations and general feelings, Thatchers thoughts are pretty guarded now and hard to divine. As it happens, his general feeling is one of paranoia.

Dalia: "Both of my encounters with the demon cops have been self-defense, and the Detective knows that. I'd rather he not know that I'm actively hunting cops now. Might make our relationship a bit less friendly, and I want him on my side. Want to stop by your place so you can check your contacts? I was also going to ask if I can crash there tonight."

Thatcher: "Hello Detective. How goes your investigation?"

Dalia: "Oh, that's no fun. Are you sure you couldn't make it seem innocent, like you just wanted to ask some questions? And then had to unfortunately defend yourself? Not mentioning how the defending yourself happened to happen before the questions, of course. You're welcome to crash at my place, but I'll need to go and talk to my contacts in person. I don't have important conversations on the telephone, you see. Bad habit I intend to never acquire."

Thatcher [mentally]: "Cocksucking motherfucker! Sorry. I'm not going to ever be completely OK with that. How much of my thoughts are private from that kind of access? Because I'm starting to be worried about a group of off-duty SWAT team members happening to show up at my apartment."

Thatcher: "Shit, are they there now? Do you live alone? I'm not sure how private your thoughts are... I'm still pretty new at this. Are you going to your apartment now? Want help?"

Dalia: "Detective Thatcher may be in trouble - SWAT team at his apartment. Let's follow him." I start directing her to drive in the general direction of where Thatcher is.

Thatcher: "No, no. I'm at a bar being paranoid. Which reminds me, we need to meet up so that I can get your deposition regarding the encounter with the FUBAR-SWAT team today. Preferably to document some sort of excellent alibi."

Dalia: "This time we stay away from windows."

Dalia: "False alarm, he was just being paranoid and I misunderstood. He's at a bar though and wants to talk. And that might draw out the demon cops. Let's go scope out the area and see if it's ambush worthy."

Thatcher: "Stay put, I'll come find you." We continue on to the bar and check out the area to see if there's a good spot Dalia can set up an ambush.

He's at Rock Bottom, of course.

Dalia: "You're psychic and you misunderstood him? I hope he's not married."

Of course. Has Jacob gone to work yet, or is he still at the apartment?

Jacob is indeed at work, and the Friday night crowd is getting packed.

Ok, we find a good place for Dalia to hide outside the bar that gives her a good view of the entrance and parking lot. Check for cop cars in the area. I'm going to sneak in and find Jacob first; let him know that I'm there and that while I hope things don't get ugly, if the evil cops show up it might. I then make sure I have a good idea where all of the exits are, including staff/kitchen exits. Then I check the crowd for anyone that seems like they are keeping an eye on Thatcher, either his backup or those of evil intent. Then I go sit beside him.

The first part of the plan is extraordinarily difficult. Rock Bottom is located downtown such that it is extremely difficult to watch the entrance discreetly. Not only is there no parking lot, there is no parking on the street because a light rail line runs right past. In fact, the front of the bar is a popular stop for the train, and so has a heavy crowd flux. There is considerable foot traffic, so stationary hiding on the sidewalk is problematic. Additionally, the sidewalk is lined with leafy trees that effectively obscure observation from upper floors of the nearby buildings. So, Dalia can perhaps patrol outside, but to be discreet means only intermittent observation.

The bar is just a couple blocks from the police garage; there are always cop cars about.

William is already familiar with the delivery entrance behind the kitchen, from helping out Jacob in the past. Jacob is on board with retreating if things get ugly.

Thatcher is conveniently sitting exactly in a back corner with his back physically tucked into the corner. And he's drinking while watching the room. And not being discreet about it.

So he's pretty upset when William appears very nearby.

"Hi Detective. Sorry to startle you. Quite a couple weeks we're having, huh?" I order a beer. "So, I guess the first question is - how much of a suspect am I on that fiasco this morning?"

The waitress looks at Thatcher, then deliberately asks to see your ID.

Thatcher sighs. "He'll have a Coke™." After she escapes, he addresses William. "You are as yet unnamed, but the description is very specifically echoing your entry in the police record. And your file is 'active'. So it is essentially impossible to say we didn't follow up that lead. Which is why I need a deposition, complete with alibi. Luckily, 'short young adult, male, athletic, etcetera' is a sizeable demographic near a university. And young med student isn't exactly in the usual psych profile for killing a handful of police."

Saving the world from demons and I can't even order a beer. Sigh. "Ok, well, after I left you at the police station, I got on my bike and rode home. My roommates were home so they'd make good alibis, though I don't think they were exactly looking at the clock when I got there."

"Plus, if I had to guess, one guy going up against a handful of police may have been wounded. A witness may have seen that. And since I don't have a scratch on me, that kind of rules me out."

"Sooooo... I'm trying to decide if it's a good idea to try and clear that psychic mark on you. If I can, whoever put it there wouldn't be able to track you anymore. But, on the other hand, they would know that the mark is gone, and may decide to find out how come. What do you think?"

Thatcher takes a long sip on his beer, then wipes the foam off his mustache. "Are you sure that's the alibi you want to run? Because I happen to know that you and your roomies all claim to still be up on the 20th floor on Harrison, and the department happens to have statements from neighbours saying you boys haven't been back in weeks. So, unless you want to divulge where you've gone to ground en masse, perhaps a different story is in order. Perhaps a friend you've been staying with can vouch for your whereabouts. The uninjured angle is a good idea, though. I'm pretty sure I can conjure one of the civilian reports confirming injuries."

Another pull on the beer. "Don't you fuckin' make any wise-ass flagging me psychically for death. You might be an immortal little demon-killing know-it-all, but the last thing I need is to suddenly reveal that I'm not a good little cog spinning exactly where he's supposed to be. I make things better by following clues and gathering evidence and figuring things out, not by having firefights in crowded restaurants with demonic assholes. Are we clear?"

Off in the distance, William has a bad feeling.

I smirk a little. "Clear. So what's the plan if the demonic assholes show up here and start shooting at me? I have a feeling I've really pissed them off recently. Which reminds me... do your active police records mention the location of either my brother or parents? If you had to find them, how hard would it be?"

Thatcher: "Yeah. The file lists the phone numbers of your parents and brother. Looking up the addresses of those would be trivial."

The bad feeling gets further away, and worse.

Crap. All righty then. "Would you/they know what vehicles they drive? Follow me." I get up and start heading towards the exit. If Thatcher doesn't immediately follow I say loudly to his brain "FOLLOW!".

Mike (mentally): "Mike. Freak about able the fact I can read your mind later. For now, I really pissed off someone today and they threatened to go after you. Expect more cops that shoot first and don't bother with questions. You need to get in your car and get away from home. I'll try to meet up with you later, but for now just drive. Arm yourself too. I'll tell Mom and Dad. Go NOW!"

Parents (mentally): "Hi Mom, Hi Dad. Guess what? I'm telepathic! Before you think on that too much I need you to listen. There might be some people heading towards the ranch right now that, well, there's no easy way to say this. They're going to try to kill you. I need you to get into the truck and drive away. Dad, bring your rifle. Oh, and these guys might be cops, but they're not good ones."

Dalia: "I'm coming out with Thatcher. I'm going to convince him to drive me to McMinnville - fast. I think the demon's are going to move against my family a lot faster than I thought they would. Please follow with the car."

Thatcher: "Where's your car? We need to drive to McMinnville."

Thatcher does not follow. He winces at the mental yell, but it does not cause him to rise. "Sorry kid." Then he thinks loudly, 'You have to operate without my overt involvement. We're dealing with an embedded hostile force inside of the department, and in order to function I need to avoid detection. They must be running low on cops on leave to use as drones, so we should expect them to start being more tactical.'

Mike: "Shit. Grabbing my Go Bag and heading to the ranch."

Dad: "Shit!" Confused thoughts. "How do we know that this is you?"

Mom: "Let's wonder that while we pack..."

Dalia thinks acknowledging thoughts, and the fastest route for fetching her car.

Dalia: "Wait. Thatcher won't drive me and I don't have time to argue. I'll meet you at the car."

Mike: "Don't go the ranch, I just warned Mom and Dad to leave. The cops know that address too. I'm going to start driving towards McMinnville - I'll check to see if the cops are there and then go check on the ranch. Head south, I'll tell Mom and Dad to the same and then we can all meet up in Corvallis."

Mom/Dad: "Head south and then over to Corvallis. I sent Mike there too. Don't spend too much time packing, I don't know how long we got. I'll check in every ten minutes or so."

Thatcher: "Ok, that makes sense. Could you do something for me though? Find out where all legitimate cops are at the moment, and if I contact you asking about say a cop car on a certain road, let me know if they are suppose to be there?"

I start sprinting to where Dalia's car is.

Mike heads immediately to a changed trajectory of Corvallis-bound. The parents persist in lingering much longer than William likes, but eventually finish gathering essentials into the pickup and heading out.

Dalis has the car moving towards Rock Bottom and slows just enough for William to jump in, then they start driving with urgency.

After a short while, a sharp spike of stress blossoms in Mike's mind. "There's a Sheriff's cruiser following me!"

Mike: "Stay calm. If they haven't shot at you yet, it's possible you're just being watched. The normal cops are interested in me too at the moment. I'll try to find out."

Thatcher (mentally): "Would it be normal for a Sheriff's cruiser to be following my brother right now?"

Thatcher [mentally, nicely buzzed]: "As far as I know, our department hasn't liaised with any other agencies regarding you. And I'd know of any official coordination."

Mike: "And he's turned his lights on to pull me over. Gah; headlights are too bright, I can't tell if I recognize him."

I stop whatever I'm doing and try really hard to focus on the clairvoyance - trying to a glimpse of what will happen if Mike lets the cop pull him over.

Hmmm. Time to be vague, if not actually cryptic.

The 3-points of Clairvoyance strain against the fabric of Narrative Reality to etch out the message: "Not dead right away."

Mike: "Drive. Really really fast. He's not a good guy. If you can circle around back towards Portland, I can try to intercept."

I start extracting the rifle that Dalia must have in the car. "Head to McMinnville. My brother's about to be caught by a demon-cop.

[cue exciting chase music]

2015.02.13 - Valley Of Death

The Sheriff's deputy was quite insistent that Mike should pull over, and after some tense consideration Mike did as he was instructed. He was arrested, his truck impounded, and he was dragged back to the county Sheriff's office for questioning. While he was being detained, he suddenly noticed a being that nobody else seemed to pay any attention to. Then, confusingly, during his interrogation, the Mr. Rogers-looking fellow seemed to intervene in the proceedings and cause the Sheriff to actually ask circumstantial questions of the deputy.

When William and Dalia show up, Dalia sets up across the street and William infiltrated the station. The Sheriff and two deputies, as well as Mike, were easily accounted for - but Mr. Rogers was nowhere to be found, even after some Swaartz-powered hunting. William also found that the security cameras and recording tapes had already been deactivated. To expedite Mike's extraction, William pulled the fire alarm and stealthily followed everyone outside. Once outside, William Vulcan-nerve-pinched the lawmen. Then they left with the intention of meeting up with their parents on Corvallis.

Appallingly, a short time later Will felt his father die. There was an immediate spike in fear from his mother, then she passed out. When she regained consciousness a few moments later, she was in the back of an ambulance. And a Very Unpleasant Being was instructing her to think loudly at William that He. Should. Come. Here. Or else.

Diverting to intercept, William, Dalia, and Mike quickly realized that this was a set-up. It was clearly designed to kill everyone who came close: with sufficient sniper cover to hold the valley from a small army. The demonic paramedic became adamant that William should come immediately, or his mother would die. It emphasized this by ripping off one of her fingers, and magnifying her pain.

It was at this juncture that Mr. Rogers announced his presence telepathically to William. A hasty and paranoid alliance was formed, and William gambled on Mr. Rogers' attention-shifting abilities to help him run straight down the throat of the trap.

It worked. Messily.

William managed to jump into the ambulance to initiate the fracas, which rendered the phalanx of snipers and sharpshooters much less effective. The demonic paramedic was profoundly difficult to fight. Will managed to free his mother of her paralysis, and she began driving the ambulance out of the kill zone - and towards Mike. Just as Will was near death from standing toe-to-toe with the demonic paramedic, Mike was able to blaze away with a heavy pistol. He also handed another pistol to his mother, who also started administering therapeutic lead. This was unappreciated by the demonic paramedic, who proceeded to kill both Mike and his mother. Or, rather, they would have been dead, except that William was able to stabilize them at the ragged edge of oblivion with his own Physical Swaartz. Then, using an axe he found lashed in a corner of the ambulance, William burned several stress points and furiously hacked the demonic paramedic's skull into splinters. And then off.

Dalia had already flanked the snipers on the hill, and proceeded to quietly kill them off one by one. William sent Mike and his mom away, then intercepted an assault weapon goon. The horrifying screams of the goon prompted the sparse locals to call the police when even the sporadic gunfire had not. Dalia assassinated the last sniper.

Don't forget the part where the demon-bastard was run over by the ambulance. SQUISH!  :)

Plot Infliction 008 - Gathering Storm

Mr. Rogers specifically un-conceals his location, which is climbing into a van on the far West edge of the kill zone of the Valley Of Death. "Well done, Demon Bane. I may seek your services in the future."

Rogers: "Do you want to participate in the taking out of the other 2/3 of this demon? I'm guessing it's going to happen soonish."

I heal up Mike and Mom. (Can I re-grow her finger?) We move Dad's body to the back of the truck, and I'll ride back there with him. I'll ask Dalia to follow us back to the ranch in her car.

Thatcher (mentally): "Where can I find Frank Drebin?"

Brother Edgar (mentally): "One third of another demon is dead. We're going to be going after the remaining two thirds soon. We could use your help, do you want to participate?"

The truck is toast; its mode of deceleration after leaving the road involved plastic deformation of its frame shedding of some structural mass. It is evident that everyone would need to pile into the Volvo wagon. Your father's body could be wrapped in a blanket and laid in the back.

It's worth noting that all three remaining members of the Swartz family have just absorbed a shit-ton of stress points, and all three will be showing signs of shock.

Mr. Rogers - who probably referred to himself that way because he plucked the reference from one of your minds - drives closer, and gives a solemn wave. Mentally, he communicates with William. "I need to return to the Abbey, but feel free to confer with me as necessary. If you detect the presence of the remains of the demon, we can bring some more Templars to assist." Then the unassuming van thrums away in the night.

Healing Mike and your mom up to full is easy enough, but regenerating her finger would require maintaining physical contact for a long time. You're not sure exactly how long.

Thatcher [mentally]: "That's a good question. He used to have a house on the East side, but his wife and several others were murdered there so its been closed off during the investigation. No idea where he is now, other than he's been taken off active duty."

Brother Edgar [mentally]: "Huzzah! With one leg hacked off, the other two will be unbalanced and obvious! Where do we find the vile worms to force them to their righteous end?"

Thatcher (mentally): "He may start acting erratically. Could you keep an eye out for him? I'll check in periodically."

Brother Edgar: "Don't know yet. As soon as I do, I'll contact you."

I check with Mike/Mom to see what they want to do about Dad's body. It might be best to leave him with the truck. The actual police will be here soon and there's no way we're going to hide the fact that it's our truck with a big bullet hole in the windshield. They'll take him to the morgue and keep him until we clear up this mess and can do a funeral.

Dalia: "I don't think anyone knows who you are yet, so your place might be fairly safe. Can we go there for now?" I say that out loud so Mike/Mom can comment if they want too.

All three of the Swarts's are heartbroken, but yours is a deeply pragmatic family. And driving around with the leaking corpse of your father just isn't practical. So there is quiet agreement, and you drive away with a solemn brooding silence for a few minutes.

Thatcher [mentally]: "Uh, OK. I'll keep tabs on the dispatch radio for anything odd."

Brother Edgar [mentally]: "Let me know where, and I'll bring the Lord's judgement and glory."

After about half an hour, Dalia comments, "I'm not sure going directly to my place is a good idea. We should probably count on these guys being able to track us magically, and my apartment has virtually no escape routes. There's not much of tactical value there, other than perhaps my stash of absinthe and bourbon. We should pick some place to hole up with better escape options, then have one of us run to my cache to fetch supplies."

Mike: "Maybe we should just drive to Canada."

Mom: "Don't be a coward, dear."

Mike" "Mom..."

Mom: "Michael Swartz. We are going to find the evil cocksuckers that killed your father, and we are going to make them pay."

Mike: "Jesus, Mom!"

Mom: "You sound like you need to have something to eat, dear. Maybe we should stop at a store so I can make us some dinner?"

Mike casts an imploring look at Will. He finds it difficult to ignore the evil smirk on Dalia.

Thatcher: "Anything odd with the fire department too, ok? Thanks."

Dalia: "Maybe find a somewhat inexpensive motel? Somewhere that has both an outside entrance to the room, plus a door to go further into the building so we can flee if we need to. Oh, and if we run to your cache, do you have any throwing knives I can try?"

Mom/Mike: "These people aren't just people with abilities like me. They're normal people who have been possessed by demons. That last guy was a paramedic, and there's at least one cop who is possessed too. I'm going to guess that the fire department is infected too. And these are just the people actually possessed by the demon. In addition to that, they can control the actions of multiple other people. On the up side, if we killed the possessed people, the rest should become free of their influence."

"So, we have to wait until the possessed people show themselves. After killing one of them, they should be a bit unbalanced, so hopefully they'll make a mistake and make themselves known."

Dalia: "Based on how things progressed on Mt. Tabor, that imbalance should be raging right now. Right? So does that mean we hole up, or that we go stalking for freak-demon police?"

Mom: "What happened on Mt. Tabor?"

Mike: Facepalms. "Uhhh. Please say that we're holing up."

Thatcher [telepathically]: "Their dispatch uses the same emergency channels as we do, so that's no problem."

"We hole up for now. I want to find a safe spot for Mom and Mike. Though, if they're tracking us, leaving them anywhere could be dangerous." I smile at the family. "You might be stuck with us for a while."

"I've got Thatcher monitoring for anything unusual. Mom, Thatcher's a cop I kind of trust - he knows sort of what's going on."

I check on the marked cop that was at the Pittock mansion.

"There was a bike gang that was possessed as well. They killed one of my roommates a couple weeks ago which is how I learned of them. I think they were in an uneasy alliance with the possessed cops, which is how they figured out my address. Last Sunday they showed up at my apartment and started tracking me. I was out with Dalia at the time, and because I could sense them coming we set up an ambush for them at Mt. Tabor. Learned that it was actually just one demon that had possessed three people - apparently that's how they operate. When we killed one of them, the other two got more powerful and lost control of their sanity a bit. When we killed a second one, the last one got really powerful and went nuts. And by really powerful, I mean lightning bolts out of his hands, flying, some sort of energy shield, and healing. It was intense, but we managed to kill him too."

"Which reminds me... Dalia we should get the big gun. If they have an energy shield like that last one, it might make normal bullets ineffective."

Dalia: "I know a good motel for this."

You head to the Sixth Avenue Motel (just south of the 405 in PDX), and Dalia has a quiet - and seemingly familiar - conversation with the manager. The Volvo gets parked around back, and everybody is discreetly ushered into the back of one of the units. Then Dalia drives off to visit her cache.

Left alone, the remains of the Swartz family have a quiet emotional breakdown, and start working on their collective grieving. Their composure is mostly restored by the time Dalia returns.

She's brought more handguns, the two proper sniper rifles, and an RPG launcher. And "sufficient" ammunition. And some Chinese take-out. And some wine and beer.

The marked cop from the Pittock mansion is now in East Portland somewhere.

Any throwing knives? I start scarfing down food.

Throwing knives: yes. Dalia brought a large portion of her concealable fixed blade collection. There are considerably more than any single person could carry usefully, and a diverse selection of shapes and sizes.

Everybody inhales food, but nobody matches William for sheer quantity.

Dalia: "Carrying these can be tricky; they tend to need sheaths because of how sharp they are."

I'll pick a couple of smallish blades that can fit in my pockets. If they don't have sheaths, maybe try wrapping them in some cloth.

"So, I have an idea where one of the minion cops are. Perhaps if we trail him, he'll lead us to the big guy. Mike/Mom, I'm not sure if it would be safer to leave you here, or safer to take you with me. The problem is I don't think there's anywhere safe to leave you. Ultimately, the only way to end this is to take those bastards out, so I don't think we can not go after them."

The knives were kept in a large leather roll satchel, and there are no sheathes. The blades themselves are all razor-keen, the kind of sharpness that somebody spent an embarrassing amount of time getting just right. So it's easy to imagine that these things would be idiotic to carry loose. However, as Will picks up and inspects each, he paints them with his Clairvoyance Swaartz, which lets him use his meagre Aetheric Swaartz to keep the blades obediently nestled however he likes. He can feel the Physical Swaarts augmenting this passive effect on more-than-strictly-allowed numbers of blades as long as they are very near. Further away, Will is currently limited to controlling one object at a time.

Mom: "You should go now, and we'll stay here. We're not really up to combat, and we'd just be vulnerable. If they send people to find us, those will be people they can't also use against you - so you can kill them a few at a time."

Dalia nods, while looking worried at Will seemingly tucking un-secured blades in his pockets.

Mike: "I'll rig up some surprises for any unwanted intruders. Just be sure to give us a heads-up before you return so I can disarm a path back in."

Mike: "Just make sure you have a good escape route through your surprises."

Dalia and I hop into the car with rifles, blades, and the RPG. We start heading to East Portland towards that cop.

Mike smiles malevolently, and in his mind Will can see his plan to detonate directional explosives to clear an escape route.

Dalia and Will load up into the Volvo wagon and head to one of the bridges. "If we're going to prowl around on the East side anyway, perhaps we should switch to the armoured car?"

Once on the bridge, the line of sight is clear enough to notice a towering column of smoke lit from below with an ominous glow from the approximate region that Will can sense the Marked cop. Tertiary flashing lights suggest that the fire department is already involved.

"I don't think there will be much prowling involved. Let's just get there."

Brother Edgar (mentally): "Not sure yet, but the demons might be at a fire on the east side. Can you start heading there? Should be easy to find, just follow the smoke."

Thatcher: "What's going on with that fire on the east side?"

Dalia: "Roger that." She recognizes that the fire is where the action is, and speeds that direction.

Brother Edgar [mentally]: "Ah. As they say, where you smoke there might be fire. I shall go immediately."

Thatcher [mentally]: "The arson? It didn't seem like a big deal. They got the vagrants who accidentally started it, and the fire department sound like they have it under control."

The Volvo draws close to the area of interest, both Will and Dalia are a bit confused. The building that's on fire is one that they've never noticed before.

2015.02.26 - Playing It Safe

The Surprise Fortress was suitably intimidating that ninja-like Will decided to wait for not-even-slightly-subtle Brother Edgar. They managed to fight their way past the outer perimeter... a little too easily. It was obviously a trap. They decided to leave. At which point, a phalanx of spontaneously-created flesh golems charged. Will managed to super-sneak side-step the onslaught, but Edgar was not so lucky. Will had no viable options, and could only telepathically listen as Edgar was bludgeoned to death inside the bowels of the Surprise Fortress.

Will went back to the motel with his family and got some rest.

The next day, they got a ride back to McMinnville. There they discovered that Hukari Insurance was interested in recruiting Will, and so had helped expedite getting Mike's truck out of impound and dealing with Mr. Swartz's body.

The Swartz family decided to head back to the ranch, then decide what to do next.

Plot Infliction 009 - Where Do We Go From Here?

The drive in Mike's tow truck back to the ranch is solemn.

When we get to the ranch, I guess we had better call my sisters to let them know about dad. I propose to the family that we drive north to Sister Delta's and see if we can stay there for a while. My general idea would be to stay there for a while - say a week, to get Mom and Mike settled and then find my way back to Portland.

Contrarily, when Will's sisters hear of their father's death, they both want to visit the old homestead. Which is understandable. However they readily listen to their mother's insistence on leaving for a time being - such is the fundamental authority that your mother wields.

The drive North starts off tense, but all three feel their anxieties abate as they wend through the sparsely-populated Washington Territory. The compound that Sister Beta lives in is the typical survivalist type, and not welcoming to outsiders - even if they have relatives inside. However, as expected, Mike's technical abilities and Will's medical abilities are readily accepted in barter for access.

The week goes by quickly, with life at the compound being an odd combination of busy and dull.

The mechanism for Will's return to Portlandia is a matter of some consideration.

A couple loose ends - I call the roommates before we leave to let them know I'll be gone a week or so. I don't tell them where I'm going. And, on the drive up, I attempt to regrow Mom's finger.

Was there a lot of traffic on the way up? Is hitchhiking back an option? I seem remember that was much more common in the 80's.

Loose end #1: Appraising the roommates is trivially easy, thanks to the Communication Swaartz. So that could have happened at any time since game night left off.

Loose end #2: You can regrow your mom's finger during the hours of driving. Mostly. It's phenotypically correct, but it looks about 25 years younger than her hand and other fingers.

There's regular traffic while south of Mt. Saint Helens, as that's still in the Republic of Oregon. Past the volcano is the beginnings of the Washington Territory, which has no centralized government and travel is much less common. Hours pass without seeing any other vehicles, and often those vehicles pull over defensively to let you past. William might be able to use the Swaartz to persuade a paranoid Washingtonian into picking him up, but he'll probably need to travel 50 km from the compound to get to a highway first. If no travellers are forthcoming, it might be a 160 km hike back to the edge of the RoO.

I don't think the roommates know I'm telepathic yet, so I'll just use the phone. Can Mike give me a lift to the edge of RoO? Then I'll hitchhike the rest of the way. Would my sister's family mind if I took a tent with me, in case I'm stuck somewhere during the night?

Mike is nervous about leaving mom with a bunch of crazy survivalists, but Will reassures him that they're all pragmatically minded and have done a good job of weeding out the wingnuts. They're mostly just a hard-working bunch that don't trust governments any more. He gives Will a lift back to the RoO. He also has a tent in his go-kit, but it's not exactly Will's style to use one. His dad taught him to stalk-hunt, which involves napping in a poncho instead of bedding down to sleep for longer durations.

Regardless, Mike delivers Will to the highway south of Mt. Saint Helens and wishes him luck. And to keep him in the loop.

Excellent. I start hiking south towards Portland. If I see any wildlife, I'll try the communication Swaartz on it, just to see how effective it is. Otherwise, keep an eye out for traffic and try to hitch a ride.

Most animals, other than primates and cetaceans, have very little of their brain dedicated to communication. Their emotions are easy enough to read, and influence. But beyond that, there's very little to convey either direction.

Except for canidae and corvidae. Upon sensing the minds of some coyotes and some ravens, they were suddenly a willing conduit of curious thoughts.

After about an hour of hiking, a van appears on the highway heading the wrong direction. An aura of base impulses shrouds the two occupants, and they flash into pleasant surprise as they pass by William. The van quickly slows to a stop, turns around, and heads back towards William.

One window rolls down. "Hey, man, you need a ride?"

I try to appear a bit stoned. "Uh, yeah man... but aren't you heading in the wrong direction? I'm headed south." While thinking to myself - "If they're evil, I can take their van."

Part of me wants to take a snapshot of this game at this point, and replay it later on except recent events have turned William evil. That could be fun. But for now, going to try to stay good. :)

They're a pair of psychopaths. Their thoughts hang crystal clear on a high-tension vibe between them: they came out to go to Washington Territory to find someone to quietly torture and murder. There's no police out here, so it's safer for their 'bad habit'. That they found a perfect victim so early means they get to spend even more time than usual on the glorious torturing part.

"No, no man. It's cool; we're just out for a drive anyway. We can give you a lift to wherever you want. It's all cool with us." Both men flash crooked smiles through their beards. They both actually hope you try to run, so they can chase you. But the sheer hilarity of having you walk into their slaughtermobile is too delicious to not try.

"Well, I guess. As far south as you can go would be great. Trying to get away from those crazy Canadians. Though would you mind if I sat up front? I get car sick if I can't see the road."

I think I might paralyze them, and feed them to coyotes. If they let me sit up front, I'll grab the driver and knock him out. Otherwise, I'll change my mind and make them come out to get me.

"Sure buddy!" They have the doors rigged to operate remotely from a hidden control in the front. As soon as you step inside, they mean to have the trap spring closed and then both will jump on you. Glittering in their minds are all the handy restraints waiting in the back, which is like a combination workshop, operating theatre, and prison cell. Cunningly disguised as hunting and taxidermy equipment, of course.

Ok, I let them jump me and as soon as I have physical contact with them I try to knock them out, using full on pain of the Swaartz. Assuming that goes well, I'll put them in their own restraints and start driving north until I find a side road to go down. I look for a secluded spot, pull over and extract them from the truck. I make sure they're well tied up and then wake them up.

They don't stand a chance. In their green-psychopath feeding frenzy, they're so predictable that Will can grab their wrists simultaneously and bring them to their knees. After the echoes of their screams fade, they're left helplessly twitching. They're big - too big for Will to move easily. Luckily, there is a handy system of winches and cables set up inside the van perfect for hoisting and manipulating large dangling masses. The restraint system is overly elaborate, especially considering that Will just needs to stop them from sliding around inside the van while driving after he paralyzes them.

Secondary roads and abandoned logging roads are extremely common, and the van is 4WD with a zero-fucks-given exterior making it exemplary at navigating to an extremely secluded spot.

They wake up completely immobilized. One is confused and frightened. The other is calm and peaceful.

"Ok, listen up psychos. Obviously I'm going to take your van. The question is, do either of you have enough easily accessible cash you can buy your lives back with?" I read their minds to see if they think of any type of stash back at the pit they call home.

Everything they have is $320 in cash in a hidden safe in the floor of the van.

Frightened Psycho: "Yeah, man! We got hunners of dollers back at our place! Plenty to buy back our lives."

Calm Psycho looks sadly at his comrade, but says nothing.

I smirk at calm psycho. "You knew this day would come eventually didn't you?" I extract the safe and grab the cash. Then I put the psychos down - no pain, just a mortal wound and let them bleed out. I leave their bodies at the side of the road and start driving towards Portland.

Calm Psycho: "I had no hope that the horror would end." He is indeed awash with relief.

Frightened Psycho screams and begs and threatens and tries to negotiate and screams some more.

Will's coyote and raven friends are eager to scatter the remains.

The drive to PDX is unremarkable.

I park near the apartment and check in with the roommates if they are there. Otherwise, I rest for a bit. I'll let the family know I got here ok. Plan for the near future is to lay low, and head back to school to catch up on the week I missed.

It's Sunday afternoon when Will rolls into PDX, and both Ben and Jacob are home.

Jacob rubs his eyes. "I thought I had woken up, but here's our ghost roomie."

Ben. "Hey man. Glad to see you, mostly. But things have been quiet while you were gone. You're not going to make things exciting again, are you?"

Mike and Will's mom are glad that Will is OK, but they have some persistent worry.

If Will doesn't seek out any adventuring, another week can pass unremarkably engaged in study.

Sure, another week sounds good. Going to keep an eye out for two things. One is fatal accident victims, of my general age and size for potential identity theft. Two would be some sort of disabled support group I could volunteer at. But aside from that I focus on the school work.

Being associated with OHSU makes it eminently possible to see who comes through the morgue, and allows for quite a large array of support groups.

Ok, I'll keep that in mind for later. For now I'll just study.

Things in Portland enter a stage of uncommon calm. After the city-wide gnawing fear generated by the rampant biker gang and the shadowy police actions, both completely absent now, it's like the city breathes a collective sigh.

The Swartz family in Washington Territory hunker down into a quietly paranoid existence.
Will's roommates resume old patterns, though still secretive about where they actually live.
Dalia resumes spying for the newspaper, but also preparing more tactical caches with her "team" - Butopher and Olive.
Thatcher starts working on hunting down a lone serial killer, but remains wary of the city leadership.

How long would Will keep his head down?

I think after the first week the paranoia will start goading him into doing something. Going to start checking out the support groups. What I'm looking for is someone disabled that might make a good underling if healed. So, good side of the alignment, combatant stages (or really, any useful stages), able to keep his/her mouth shut, able to handle the crazy world I'd be opening them up to. I try to guess that information through small-talk and reading their minds while I'm volunteering. I try to find someone who given a choice between living disabled, or a dangerous potentially short life but healed, would risk the dangerous life.

If I find a potential candidate, I then try to find a recent accident victim that would match them for an identity swap. Only if I'm able to do that, will I even consider talking to them.

The obvious support group is the one dealing with cancer. It is the largest and most varied. Unfortunately, while there is a lot of contemplation of cramming in adventure and making a difference on many people's minds, Will can see that given a reprieve from their potential death sentences every one of them would absolutely want to cling to life and simple things. And it's hard to blame them. Regardless, Will makes some extremely poignant friendships.

2015.03.07 - OHSU Incident

  • 3 weeks of laying low
  • start hunting for the serial killer Thatcher is investigating
    • enlist the services of crows, and a raven
    • find another body - along the river
    • track the Swaartz of the body to where it was dropped - in the middle of the river
    • hunting around for possible boat launches, find a suspiciously clean (both physically and Swaartz) houseboat by Ross Island
  • another week of laying low
    • WAR in Europe
    • Dominika Wolski = not Will's girlfriend
  • another week starts...
    • DEMON ASSASSIN TRIO attack Will while in class at OHSU

Plot Infliction 010 - Master Of Puppets

William is feeling a bit disturbed that more people were killed because they were loosely associated with him. Once he's safely away from the hospital he's going to try and calm down, and then start observing what 5 points of communication Swaartz can do.

Oh, and his 5th stage is going to be Leader Striker.

Leader Striker:

  • Stamina: +16
  • H2H: +3
  • Duck: +1
  • + 1 Option
  • Willpower, Awareness - yadda yadda yadda
  • Seasoned: ACHIEVED

The 5-point Communication Swaartz has some obvious capabilities. Transfer of anything that can be thought or understood is possible (short of Experience). Additionally, thinking beings are themselves perceivable, as luminous mechanisms - including what they're experiencing and paying attention to. And what those luminous mechanisms are working on is able to be affected. This has dire consequences on interactions of awareness, and combat.

More than that, Will can now project himself to fully inhabit the existence of another being. He can squat in, experientially. Or he can take over. Willpower and Awareness factors in.

Coupled with the Physical Swaartz, Will realizes that he can shift actual points of Swaartz. Either by direct donation, or by temporary copying.

Can I combine the Physical & Communication to use the Physical Swaartz at a distance? Say I've got someone marked and I want to heal them without touching them. Is that possible?

Sort of. Will has to "inhabit" their existence to bring his Physcial Swaartz to bear. People may resist that kind of connection, which would prevent the healing and other effects.

Ok, I'm going to head home to change my clothes and then I'm going to ride out to the van. Going to park the van near the police station, and then pick someone going into the building to inhabit. Once that person enters, I'm going to try to jump from that person into a cop and try to take them over.

As police officers are the largest proportion of people coming and going from the main station downtown, it seems much easier to select one of those immediately. Assuming that Will is willing to put dice into the possession, it is relatively easy to penetrate the inner luminous mechanism of a green officer. With the awareness differential, it would be simple to merely ride along unobtrusively and to plant navigational directions from the on-board catalogue of destinations. If Will means to wrest full control, it will be more difficult to hide - unless he first renders the native intelligence unconscious. However, while unconscious, all information contained in the native intelligence is inaccessible.

ALSO: for alignment/nature reasons, Will is now a vegetarian.

What!?! No more steaks? Noooooooo......

Ahem. Anyway, I'll just ride along with the officer for a bit. If there's opportunity, I'll 'suggest' he gather information on the current whereabouts of Frank Drebbin. Or, find out what the police response is to the incident at OHSU.

The officer's brain freaks out slightly at even wondering, with aftershocks of fear at what he imagines would happen if Drebin found out he was asking questions about him. Those imaginings mostly revolve around special ops guys showing up unexpectedly, then a quick trip through a wood chipper. The officer laughs it off, and mocks his own brain for being stupid enough to even wonder. Then he chuckles as he checks in on the investigation at OHSU.

Looks like a large team of investigators, lead by two detectives. No reports filed yet.

I try to keep the officer's brain thinking about Drebin, known associates to avoid, places he's been to avoid, stuff like that. Also, I try to connect with the minds of the three survivors of the shooting. I want to see if they've been interviewed yet, and if not, try to get them to believe that I was never there.

Clever. Drebin-related things to avoid (according to this officer's understanding):

  1. Frank Bad.Mother.Fucker Drebin.
  2. Messing with the SWAT personnel.
  3. Messing with the SWAT operations - gear, depot, or Secret Meeting Room Of The Week.
  4. Bothering Alison in Evidence. Don't know why, they have some sort of connection, and it's Just. Not. Done.
  5. Doing anything, whatsoever, with respect to Drebin's personal cruiser.

Connecting with the minds of the three survivors would involve locating them. Will does not know them very well - he's a loner, and the class population and participation varies a lot.

Ok. I let the cop go and head back to OHSU. I'm going to find my way to the investigation, check on the survivors and find out what the cops think happened. And see if I'm being mentioned at all. Also, going to test the powers some more. I'll see if I can do that nifty keep attention away from me that glasses dude was doing.

The attention-directing power is possible, but only for a few people at a time. Assuming they have low enough willpower. However, being able to see what most people are actively paying attention to real-time is a massive, massive bonus to sneak/hide. At least, among normal humans.

The police investigation seems to be entirely staffed by non-puppet officers and technicians. They have more questions than answers, but the leading theory is some sort of terrorist cell. William Swartz is only mentioned as part of the list of students to run through routine questioning.

2015.03.12 - Fire Station Incident

Will practiced some of his newly-found Swaartzian powers, culminating with granting high-level Swaartz temporarily to Dalia. Then together they decided to hunt down the Fire Chief and murder him in his office. The related fire and assault weapon use makes it look suspiciously similar to what happened at OHSU, feeding theories about terrorist cells.

After 1/3rd of the demon was killed, Will could now sense his Swaartzian imbalance(s). One was, as previously, at the Ladd's Citadel. Another flared up in the Lloyd District, which is where Will and Dalia headed next.

Because they're the Good Guys.

Plot Infliction 011 - Extremely Brief Interlude Between Incidents

Longest Thursday Night Ever.

I shall bathe in demon blood with righteous vengeance.

Ignoring the fact that the demons don't have blood themselves, I'm struggling to apply "with righteous vengeance" to "bathe". I mean, I get that it's supposed to allude to violence. It's just an odd phrasing to deconstruct.

2015.03.19 - Chasing A Demon

Will and Dalia quickly tracked the non-Drebin third of the main PDX demon to the Lloyd district. However, the demon realized via clairvoyance that the W & D were coming for the exposed third, so had it immediately flee towards the Ladd's Citadel.

It didn't quite make it - badly injured and with little hope of making it the rest of the way, it ducked into an old warehouse (converted into stores). An array of goons was sent to assist, but Will merely walked through them while mentally turning their attention away. Will found the vulnerable slice of demon, but it was doing something... odd. Fearing an explosion (or something), Will backed off. Then the demon managed to withdraw from the human vessel, which was then transformed into a golem.

Will withdrew to avoid the nearly-indestructible but half-blind creature. Reaching out with his Swaartzian senses, he could feel that the demon was again comfortably contained within three vessels - but badly weakened, and hiding in the citadel. A tempting target.

Too tempting.

Will and Dalia surged toward the citadel, only to divert when Will felt the sights of a missile launcher lining up on their van. Trying a less Citadel-exposed route had them caught in the crosshairs of large anti-aircraft weaponry able to point down the street. Clearly, an approach on foot was in order. Dalia stayed back with the van.

Stealthily proceeding to the outside of the inner ring road, Will projected control up to one of the guards on top of the Citadel. This did not work neatly, and ended up with the potential puppet having its head blown off. Making the most of the distraction, Will sprinted across the gap and burst into one of the personnel entrances. The antechamber within was filled with assault-weapon goons, and all other portals were barricaded. The guards were promptly possessed, which allowed them to see Will, and furious combat ensued.

Will was the only one to survive, but found himself badly injured and effectively cornered and possibly trapped.

Plot Infliction 012 - Taking The Fortress (AKA terminal optimism)

Going to do a few things immediately.

  • Check out exits to this room and how well they're barricaded. Aside from the one leading outside.
  • Mentally scan upwards for minds, both to see how close they are, and to find someone to take over.
  • HEAL!

The doors are solid steel, and barred on the other side with beams weighing a few hundred kilograms.

Minds swarm towards Will - both inside and out. The interior swarm has an ETA of 8 turns. Outside: 15 turns. Is there anything in particular Will looks for to distinguish one he might try to control?

Heal as you will.

Turn 1: I head over to the door I came in and lock it, and jam it such that someone without Aether Swaartz would take a while to get in. Then I try to impart it with a feeling of fear, so that if anyone tries to mess with it, they suddenly feel like it's going to explode or something. Whatever dice left over that turn I use to heal.

Turn 2: Looking for a mind on the inside that is in the rear of the group heading towards me.

Let's assume all dice used for healing are good for 3.5 stamina, on top of the 1-stamina/turn auto-heal.

Turn 1: Tampering the door with Aether Swaartz = 1 Die. Imparting Doominess with Communication Swaartz = 1 Die. Leaves 2 dice for healing. There is a distinct sense that not only will there be Aether Swaartz available among the outer team, but also that they are being applied in a manner largely assuming that they are disposable.

Turn 2: Base locate of goodlordthatisalot is sufficient to parse the relative positions of the incoming personnel. One of the rear guard is a Puppet, so probably not a good candidate. The others are suspiciously similar, as is the Way Of Reality™. Leaves 4 dice for healing.

Yeesh, Willy has 75 points to heal. Ok, turn 3 is base locate of personnel still at the top with the missiles, plus 4D of healing. So that's 8+15+15=38 healed so far.

Turn 3: All personnel on the top with the missile launchers are intently locating down the side, and two are Puppets.

Turn 4: I'm going to attempt to take over one of the non-puppets on the top. If I fail, will heal with the remaining dice.

Turn 4: Attempt requires 2 dice, and succeeds. Will now exists in two bodies - one familiar and trapped in a lower antechamber, the other a standard-issue goon. The SIG is a spotter for the Southern-most missile turret, leaning over the side and scanning for signs of William Swartz. Or signs that any of the phalanx of Professional Goons converging on the West Door are acting "funny".

Dalia is thinking about how she can assist, but has no good ideas.

Is the standard issue goon armed, or in any way in control of the missile launcher?

The SIG is armed with a pistol, a heavy rifle, and a Ka-Bar. The missile launchers are remote-controlled from a command station - somewhere else.

Turn 5: I mentally point the other SIG's minds to Dalia. The ones with me up top. "You should be able to possess one of these morons. I think you have more will power than me so it might be really easy. Possess them one at a time and attack the others. When they are about to run out of stamina, jump them over the side and pick another."

And with that I leap the puppet over the side of the building - aiming for the group outside. Then I leave the puppet.

Turn 6: I gather up one of the Uzis, fill it with ammo and keep it as a backup weapon. Is there anything inflammable in this room? Something that would make a lot of smoke?

Turn 4 healed another 8.

Turn 5: All the communication is dice-less. So the only potential non-healing dice is however many are used to leap-attack the SIGs on the ground with the ballistic puppet.

Turn 6: Gather Uzi = 1 die. Ammo load is a gimme, dice-wise thanks to the Aether Swaartz. Base locate shows that the room is conspicuously featureless - probably on purpose - and the only remotely flammable (I hate the word inflammable even more than I hate irregardless) are the clothes of the downed guards. Well, actually their hair is probably even more likely to produce obscuring smoke. Aside from that, there's some thick dust in the crevices 3m up the walls where the stones transition.

2015.03.26 - Assaults Of Futility

  • Will started aggressively possessing Standard Issue Goons at the Citadel - until he was mentally blocked.
  • Assault team failed to kill Will - he survived the explosive phase by sneaking out just as the exploding SIG's charged in.
  • After retreating, Will and Dalia returned to try an puppet-based assault on the upper citadel.
    • Caused some havoc, but could not get past the control room.
    • Symbiote/quad-demon head of security managed to repel the Will & Dalia puppets.

Plot Infliction 013 - Let's Give Up And Move To A Remote Island

Dalia: "Let's get some pizza and beer, and scheme a way to kill all those cocksuckers."

Is the control room still shielded from possessing anyone? I recall some cowering operators there.

The control room is indeed still shielded from possessions, or even reading of minds.

Also, both Dalia and Will are starving.

Damnit! Seems we're so close... Did any of those 4 guys even take a bit of brain damage?

I guess we slink off and get some food. I brood.

Probably after eating William will feel better. "We hurt them, and put them majorly on the defensive. If we lay low they might not send any more hit teams after me right away. Heck, they may not do anything significant right away as they lick their wounds. I have an idea for staying out of sight while I'm at OHSU. When I earn my next stage, I'm going to get more powerful and I'm going to direct that power at my telekinesis ability, so getting past their defenses might be easier."

As Will and Dalia stuff their faces at a late night pizza joint, and ponder possible future plans, the tv program showing in the corner of the eating area gets pre-empted.

A solemn news anchor, seated at a desk, with his best flat affect:
"We interrupt regularly-scheduled programming tonight to bring grave news. The fighting in Europe has taken a drastic and terrible step - nuclear explosions have been reported from central and western Europe. It is unclear at this time what the extent of the damage, or the death toll. We are still uncertain about the nature of the conflict, and further reports of fighting spreading globally has caused government officials to announce that all ports and airports are at heightened alert."

"If you see of any suspicious activity, please report it to local authorities."

"We now return you to your regularly-scheduled programming."

Dalia: "Hmmm. How much longer until you get your next stage?"

"A while yet. Though once I finish at OHSU, I should have a couple more stages. If I'm able to finish at OHSU. Though by the time that happens I wonder if there will be anything left of Europe. Might get nasty over here if too many nukes go off."

I scarf down some more pizza.

"Portland should be our first priority. We need to identify all of the demon influences and decide if we need to try and eliminate them. Obviously there's the fortress. They need to die. But I think we should check out local politicians and see if any of them are compromised. I could probably just sit in on a council meeting and check everyone out. Then I think checking out the Republic of Oregon's military is next. Maybe even find someone trustworthy and fill them in on what's going on. They've got to be getting twitchy with everything happening in Europe."

Dalia nods thoughtfully as she enthusiastically shoves another slice in her face. She gasps for breath, takes a drink, and comments. "The sitting in on a council session makes sense, for the Portland stuff. You'd have to head down to Salem for the State senate. Not sure how you get an audience with the governor-in-chief."

Will can see how Dalia is self-consciously tucking most of her thoughts safely behind her formidable willpower, to prevent casual access of them.

"I don't think I'd need an audience. All I'd have to do is possesses one of his lackeys, find him and start chatting. That should be a fun conversation. 'Hi! I'm possessing your underling and came to warn you about other people trying to possess your underlings! But I'm trustworthy, honest!'. Or, I could just sneak in."

"Though even if we secure Portland, that's not going to help much if so many nukes go off that we get into a nuclear winter situation. Maybe we should start stockpiling food."

I eat more pizza.

"By the way, you're doing good keeping your thoughts hidden. Probably a good habit to get into."

So assuming that no Swaartz-powered beings interrupt Will for a couple weeks, what does he do?

Will to-do list:

  • Sit in on a Portland council meeting. Identify anyone who is under demon influence. Identify anyone who is Swaartz resistant, or Swaartz susceptible. I'll probably bring a notepad and keep a record.
  • Explore the air base. Use the uber-stealth to wander around and get a feel for the place. Look for where their weapons are. Again, identify anyone of the three categories above. Also, figure out who the head-cheese is there.
  • Drive down to Salem for a senate meeting. Same drill as above.
  • Continue studies at OHSU. How long until I get a stage of Medic?
  • Occasionally check in with the family.
  • I'm going to see if I can figure out a way to do that nifty Swaartz detection barrier that the demon's did.
  • Occasionally listen in on Detective Thatcher's thoughts to see if anything interesting is going on.
  • Possess a raven and fly. Try to lose stress points.

Going to try and get most of those items done in the first week. On the second week, I'm going to spend free time hanging out in the Portland Airport. Going to try to find Swaartz susceptible people that are heading to Europe, Australia, Canada, etc. Going to mark them really well so that when they land I can either hitchhike or possess them.

Sitting in on a Portland City council meeting is... interesting. The typical 5% are Swaartz-susceptible, and all of them are heavily marked and a tangle of remote influence. Likewise the 90% of "normals" all trail some form of Swaartzian influence, though a little more stale and passive in nature. Meanwhile, the 5% of Swaartz-resistant individuals end up pretty much running the show. This is due to the rest of the Swaartz-influenced members mostly acting to block each other. This does not appear to be entirely accidental, but Will cannot divine who or what might be manipulating the situation. The five main commissioners themselves are all heavily marked and with conflicting lines of Swaartzian influence.

The airbase is a misery of camera surveillance, and Will notices that the central command section is in a quiet state of lock-down - nobody goes in or out. It stymies casual penetration, unless you have some sneaky ideas or are willing to take some drastic and provocative actions.

Speaking of which: before Will manages to make a trip to Salem, but after the council meeting review, Dominika Wolski manages to find Will again. And she superficially appears to be interested in continued testing of being "NOT Will's girlfriend". Except, now with the 5-point Communication Swaartz, it's clear that it's a cover. She's professional - mostly combatant - and clearly has Will as an "objective". Oddly, she's completely free of Swaartzian influence.

Time remaining until stage of medic: honestly, any day now. Assuming that the classes/labs continue as scheduled.

The family is mostly bored, with occasional bouts of panic. Any time there are any signs of strangers wandering into the territory, it sets off the paranoia of the compounds natives. But that doesn't happen too often.

It is clear that the Swaarz detection barrier talent requires more adept Energy Swaartz.

Detective Thatcher is enjoying a caseload of mostly non-supernatural mysteries.

Raven flying turns out to be pretty soothing - 1 stress point dissolves.

Let's see how Will reacts to Dominika before we have him wander down to Salem or lurk at the airport...

2015.04.02 - Secret War

File:OSS.png

After cunningly using puppets to attend class safely, Will embarked on an exploratory operation to determine how much demonic influence was in government. It revealed that demonic influence, even in the crucible of Portland, demonic influence was oddly impotent. It also caused Will to stumble into the existence of the OSS, and agreeing to serve. General Iskrets also revealed that Dominika Wolski (NOT Will's girlfriend) is an OSS operative, who would now serve as Will's liaison.

Then Will finished his stage of Medic.

Oh, and some demonic bounty hunters showed up. Fun was had by all.

 

 

Plot Infliction 014 - Bounty Hunted

Dalia: "Sooooo... run for our lives? Or counter-attack?"

"Counter attack. These guys need to learn that going after me is not in their best interest. We need minions. Can you get a bunch more weapons? I'm going to see if I can do some recruiting."

I check the marks I put on those bikers and/or bikes from way back when. See if any of them are still in the vicinity of the Lucky Lab. I start driving the Van there.

Also, how much communication Swaartz would I have to give someone to make them immune to being puppetized?

Dalia: "Roger that! I've got about 30 pistols, a dozen Uzi's, 20 combat rifles of varying calibers, and quite a few combat knives. Plus my favourites. What kind of arming were you thinking?"

Most of the bikers have drifted away, but about 6 are still local. None could bear to stay too near the Lucky Lab, though it is central to their distribution.

Strictly speaking, there is no immunity to puppetization. However, every point of Communication Swaartz does count in their favour on the Willpower check.

Dalia: "I'm thinking Uzi's. I'll let you know how many people I get."

I attempt to mentally suggest to all six that they need to go to the Lucky Lab. I give the impression that their lives depend on it.

I also try to keep track of the bounty hunter's Swaartziness. Mostly want a heads up if they attempt to intercept me or Dalia.

All six ex-bikers are green, and haven't a hope in hell of resisting Will's power. </pun>

The Swaartz-flare of the remaining third of the hound-class demon is hard to not follow. Ironically, it makes it hard to distinguish other Swaartz entities nearby. Well, harder. The Clairvoyance assures will that the trio are still together. And heading back towards the airport.

FLEE!! FLEE BEFORE ME, WORMS!!!

Ahem. I head to the Lucky Lab, quickly park the Van and head inside. Aside from the six bikers, I check to see if there is anyone Swaartz resistant inside. Does being Swaartz resistant affect my ability to copy powers to them?

Also, of the six bikers, I try to glean if any of them were involved in Naomi's unfortunate death.

There is a sudden localized migration of annelids.

Inside the Lucky Lab are the 6 bikers, sitting together somewhat awkwardly. Additional patrons include three engineers from Swan Island, a pair of construction contractors, a trio of prostitutes/robbers, and a lone recently-divorced lawyer. The only Swaartz-resistant person is the bartender - a one-eyed ex-military nursing too many stress points. Being Swaartz-resistant means that powers copied will be extremely temporary, along with all Swaartz effects.

Will can read in their minds how they are all haunted by having been present for many horrific acts, as the demon acted unrestrained on newfound fleshly impulses. But none actively participated, beyond all being Swaartz-susceptible and thus having a lingering impulse to shut up about it.

I make it so that no one in the bar but the bikers and bartender can see me. Then I say to the bikers: "Greetings. Some of you may remember me as a target of your demon bosses some time ago. I've brought you here to offer you the chance at some payback. The demons that were screwing with you are dead, but there are others in Portland that need to be put down. I can give you healing powers to put you on an even playing field. If you fight well for me, I'll even let you keep them for a while." I use aether to pick something up and slowly rotate it in the air in front of them. "Other powers can become available for those that are worthy. Who's in?" I assume there's going to be a bit of hesitation, so before they can answer I say: "I should point out, that if we don't fight the demons, they'll eventually come in force, and you guys..." I possess one of them and speak in their body. "... are really easy to possess." I let him go.

I talk telepathically to the bartender: "Want a job? As payment, I can regrow that eye for you."

The bikers all think similar thoughts: "Oh great, another demon." 5 are mostly amenable. 1 sincerely does not want to participate, due to recent relationship/family development - but is too afraid to voice dissent.

The bartender thinks: "What kind of job did you have in mind, demon?"

I glance at the one that has the family development "You may go home. The rest of you wait for me outside."

Bartender: "I'm not a demon. But I am hunting some. The job would be travelling with these guys and taking down anyone who looks like they just got possessed. Decide quick, I'm on the clock. Meet me outside if you're in."

I head outside and load everyone into the van.

Family development biker flees.

The bartender does not join. He sees the ex-bikers as victims, and is not interested in killing them for being further victimized. Also, he has fundamental doubts about Will's not-demon-ness.

Outside the 5 ex-bikers tensely load into the van. They are not hopeful about their futures.

I get one of them to drive so I can do some Swaartz stuff. I tell him to head towards the airport. Plan is to copy 5 points of Physical, 3 of Communication, 2 of Aether and 1 of Energy. Want them to be able to heal, do the rock-grenade trick, and have some resistance to puppetification. Also going to try to do the trick to make them invisible.

"Ok, your first priority is healing - either me or each other. If we're in a crowded area and any bystanders get hit, go heal them too if they're still alive. Otherwise, attack the enemy with hand to hand or weapons if you have them. Follow my lead, if things change I'll let you know."

What's the ETA of the demons to the airport? We're going to try and intercept them before they get there. Will Dalia be able to get more gear and meet us in time before we intercept? Also, how much ammunition do I have in the van?

As the van departs the Lucky Lab, the demon bounty hunters are moving very quickly up I205 - they will get to the airport about 10 minutes ahead of Will and crew. Dalia is headed North on 99E, and would probably only be a couple minutes behind Will.

There is a definite limit on how much "Swaartz stuff" Will can transfer short term. Any points that he copies will be numb, and thus not usable or copy-able for 5-10 minutes. Also, Will needs to keep at least 10 points of Swaartz functional on himself to perform the transfer, so that means a maximum of 8 per cycle. With the airport only about 20 minutes away, that might not be enough time to transfer so many points to so many people.

And, just to be clear, a couple points of Comm Swaartz aren't going to do much to ward off puppetization - in context of their being green, and having a 5-point penalty for being susceptible. The only thing that can make them resistant is to already be Will's puppet.

Quick focus on Clairvoyance... are they planning to get on a plane and leave?

Clairvoyance suggests that they do not agree on their plan. And it's hard to predict what they're going to do, considering that their main clairvoyant is full-on finger-flipping-lip bugfuck insane.

Ok, new plan. Dalia: "They're going to be at the airport by the time we get there, and I don't have time to offer any kind of protection to my new minions. I'd rather not have a bunch of green combatants with Uzi's around in a crowded area if they might get possessed. The enemy clairvoyant is nuts, so stealth might again work. Let's just get there quick."

To my crew: "New plan. Pull over and stop the Van!" When it stops I kick everyone out and tell them to go home. Then speed to the airport.

God puzzles over the utility of discarding an array disposable remote-control drones. Ponders consequences.

It's the disposable aspect of them that would bug Will. Possessing enemy combatants is one thing, but using people he grabbed off the street as bullet catchers seems not kosher with his alignment.

Indeed. Good playing of character's nature: 1 experience.

Awesome. I continue on to the airport. I'll meet Dalia outside before we go in. Also stock up on AK47 ammunition from whatever I have in the Van. If it's low, I'll switch to one of Dalia's Uzi's.

There's a catch. After a brief pause near the airport, the Swaartzian flare of the insane Clairvoant demon continues Northward into Washington Territory.

Dalia, being essentially a Yiddish boyscout of a contract killer, also threw in several boxes of 7.62mm cartridges for the AK-47.

I do a Swaartzian locate for the other demons that were with the insane one. Are they still together? Also telepathically contact Mike & Mom: "Hey guys. Just a heads up, there's a demon heading into Washington. I doubt he'll end up anywhere near you, but you might want to get on alert just in case."

The Swaartz is unable to pinpoint the other 2 tri-demons, but Clairvoyance suggests that they have somewhat parted ways with the insane 1/3-demon. Who, incidentally, is absolutely going to try to kill Will's family.

Will I be able to catch up to him in the Van?

Based on the Insane-1/3 demon's movement - fast and straight - it seems unlikely.
To the newly-puppetized goons/guards running rear guard - undoubtedly.

What about Dalia's car? If I transferred over, would it be fast enough to overtake insane 1/3 demon? Assuming we can blow past the rear guard...

Dalia's car is also limited by its need to follow roads. Insane-1/3 demon is moving as the crow flies, as it were.

I pull over and tell Dalia where to pick me up.

Mom/Mike: "Emergency time. Demon is definitely heading your way. It's going to try to kill you, but probably won't stop there - it's gone insane. Could you quickly gather anyone you can find at the compound, I'm going to talk to them. Mike, I'm going to need to borrow your body for a bit. Just relax, ok?"

I possess Mike.

It feels incredibly vulnerable suddenly existing with just 10 stamina. Mike's stages of technician are intriguing to observe from the inside, however.

I try to get an approximate ETA on insane demon. Then I help Mom raise the alarm. I also try to remember from my time here who would likely have the most stamina.

Demon flight 1/3 ETA in under an hour.

The alarm is already technically raised. Paranoid survivalists had alarms built in fundamentally throughout their stronghold. The whole compound is locked down and ready for a siege, aside from some hunters too far afield.

Ironically, the same fundamental avoidance that is key in becoming a survivalist also severely limits their experience. 6 people are professional in the compound, with low-20's stamina.

2015.04.09 - Dead Bounty Hunters

Mwaaaa haaa haa ha!

The possession of his brother Mike at the survivalist compound did not yield the kind of results that Will might have hoped: the other denizens of the compound had difficulty believing Will's story (via Mike's mouth). Indeed, though mostly thought that Mike was crazy, and then after demonstrating some Swaartzian powers assumed he was possessed by the devil. Mike and his mom were asked to leave the mild safety of the compound.

As it turned out, this was all irrelevant.

In an attempt to bestow enough telekinetic power on Mrs. Swarts so that she and Mike could fly to safety, she was loaded up with 10 points of Aetheric Swaartz. While technically not enough for smoothly controlled flight for both of them (though, a slightly-jerky variant would have been feasible), it more significantly unlocked the ability to fold space. So, ultimately, Mike and mom Swartz simply stepped through an intersection of spacetime and were back home at the Swartz ranch.

With his family out of immediate danger, Will resumed primary existence in his own body, then he and Dalia drove back to PDX to go demon hunting.

Will tracked the two tri-demons to a lounge in the airport terminal. They were mostly busy with running their remote puppets in the lonely highways of Washington Territory, trying to engage where they though Will was trying to be. Which made them extremely easy to sneak up on in the busy airport. Dalia assumed a sniper vantage outside on the tarmac, with Will planning on luring them outdoors and away from innocents.

The demons were extremely difficult to kill, because demon powers. But despite their vaunted powers, they simply lacked the skill to fend off Will and Dalia. Some collateral damage to innocents happened near the end of the very one-sided battle when one demon went insane and invoked an aura of lightning. Before they could explode from Swaartzian feedback, which had a slight pause due the steeds not being driven below negative full stamina, Will had his mom foldspace them to the middle of the desert. They even had time to capture some remarkable photographs of the occasion.

The original insane 1/3 clairvoyance demon made a wide detour around PDX after that, and went... elsewhere.

Plot Infliction 015 - One Left

It occurred to me to donate points to someone to get them to level 10 clairvoyance, but then I thought 'What if they become aware they're an NPC?'

Anyway, where be that last 1/3 demon going?

It's possible that a 10-point clairvoyant NPC might also go insane upon realizing the fundamental childishness of creation.

The last 1/3 demon flew conspicuously through east Portland and landed on top of the Hidden Citadel.

Dalia: "He went to the fortress. They'll probably get him back into three bodies again. Want to go check it out?"

Dalia: "Maybe. Last time the main demon was largely incapacitated; he's probably back up to full strength. Might be tougher now."

Meanwhile, back at the ranch (I've always wanted to say that)... Will feels his mom foldspace Mike back to his tow truck, and then her foldspace power collapses. In the vacuum of the massive pile of Aether Swaartz, Mrs. Swartz's mind folds and she goes insane.

Well, crap. "Ack. I have to go to the ranch. Mom's power just faded and she's having issues. Demon's will have to wait." I start driving fast to the ranch. I keep an mental eye on Mom and try to keep her calm. If it seems she's about to hurt herself, I'll possess her and try to put her in a safe spot.

Dalia has a mild spike of worry. "Issues? What happens when the power fades? Will? Is my head going to explode?"

Mrs. Swartz is a generally mindful being, and so was able to recognize that something was wrong fundamentally when the 10 points of Aether Swaartz vanished. So she stumbled into the house and curled up on the rug in the living room. She's there now with her eyes squinted shut. But she's mentally unresponsive for the entire 1.5 hour drive to the ranch.

Once I get there I try the obvious - physical Swaartz to heal her. If that doesn't work, I'll try to use the Physical/Communication combo to ease her out of her catatonic state.

As it happens, she still has the 5 points of Physical Swaartz up and running. Indeed, it has probably helped her brain from suffering any catastrophic physical failure - various hematoma and embolism riddle her skull.

Establishing Communication with her, augmented with Physical connection, it becomes clear that she has some intrapsychic structural failure. Concurrent with that is 3-4 stress points that are pending, which are related but not causal.

Also, the ranch is doing surprisingly well. The herds are largely self-sufficient this time of year, and the cats/dogs are half-feral anyway. Lots of overgrowth around the house, though.

Time to focus on Clairvoyance. I try to get a hint as to how to fix her. If nothing simple comes out of that, I focus on three people:

  • Glasses Dude
  • Mr. Rodgers
  • General Iskrets

Of those three, which one would be most likely to be able to help, if at all. And if they can help, what's the catch. There's always a catch.

Ah, mighty Clairvoyance. The Swaartz suggests that Mrs. Swartz's mind was originally a size suitable for about 6 points, so suddenly stuffing her mind with 16 points caused it to deform plastically. There is no going back.

There are, however, multiple ways to address the issue. All of them imply application of Swaartz points. And both Glasses Dude and Mr. Rogers could help. Or Will could do it without help, but with more risk.

Is Dalia in danger once her healing power wears off? How could Will help his Mom? I'll try copying 1 Swaartz point to her to see if that helps, but will abort if I sense that it will make things worse.

Dalia, being seasoned, is capable of sustaining 15 points of Swaartz without issue. The most she has had simultaneously was 10, so she's fine.

The most-direct steady-state solution for Mrs. Swartz is for her to be 5th stage. The obvious catch for that plan is that she needs to be functional while earning 3 more stages. She can be artificially made functional by re-inflating her mind with Swaartz - at least a total of 11. The risk there being that every new injection of points above a total of 6 causes some more stress points. She has rather high Willpower for being green - 7 - but it's clearly finite. And every time copied points collapse, or donated points get revoked, she will revert to being comatose when she dips below 11 Swaartz points - requiring more stress-inducing injections.

An alternate model would be for Will to puppetize his mom. She could remain in control, and Will could simply exist to give he mind Swaartzian structure. This would be rather time-consuming, and would adversely affect Will's ability to function.

More upsetting to contemplate (well, assuming that there's anything more upsetting than puppetizing your mom) is the possibility of having her mind supported by hosting a 1/4 demon.

2015.04.15 - Deal With A Demon

  • Discusses situation with mom.
  • Talks to Mr. Rogers, who suggests that they head to a Templar Knight church.
  • Priests at St. Michael the Archangel attempt to CLEANSE HER WITH FIRE.
    • Aborted.
  • Turns van into quasi-ambulance for facilitate further sustenance of mom's body.
  • Talks to General Iskrets, who connects Will with Glasses Dude.
  • A deal is made with Hukari Insurance Demons...

Plot Infliction 016 - Dances With Demons

Mike and I will accompany Mom with Glasses Dude as she gets demonized. So, I'm able to copy 3 points per stage of the recipient without danger, right? So I could give Mike 6 points without any worry?

The demonification doesn't happen right away; the candidate demons have some travelling to do.

Mike can indeed bear 6 points without risk.

I give Mike 3 points of Physical Swaartz and 3 points of Clairvoyance Swaartz, and tell him to keep an eye on things. After I recover the points back, I'm going to possess one of those poor bikers I keep messing with and use them to go back to the airport. If flights are still leaving, I'll find a spot in the departure lounge and people watch. If I sense any Swaartz susceptible people boarding planes I'll mark them for later.

Mike is well-pleased with the taste of eldritch power, and is eager to be of use.

When Will puppetizes the biker, the biker's mind affects an air of snarky mockery.
"Oh, found something too dangerous to do yourself, have we?"
"Airport, eh? Are we going on a trip? I should warn you that I burn easily and need plenty of sunscreen if it's somewhere hot."
"Seriously? We're just going to stare at people? Is there anything in particular we're looking for?"
"She's got boobs. And she's got boobs. And there's some more boobs. Boobs boobs boobs. Yep, some more boobs."
"This is like a time out for having been part of the Gypsy Jokers, isn't it?"

About 5% of people are "sensitives" at the airport. That racks up to a lot of individuals before very long.

There is going to be about a 2-day wait for Mrs. Swartz's interview with the demons.

I'll stop once I mark 20 candidates. Then I take the puppet back to where I got him from and release him. Then I'll go find some food, take a nap, hang out with Mike, etc. After about 8 hours, I'll check on the 20 marks and see how far away they are. The furthest away, I'm going to try to hitchhike in their mind and have a look see.

The 8 hour gap is about long enough for the furthest mark to be still sitting on a plane hanging in the middle of nowhere over the Pacific.

While hanging out with Mike at the apartment, Dalia shows up - mostly out of boredom, to get a feel for how things are going. Then Dominika appears, with a batch of cookies.

Dalia smiles slyly, and quietly acquires on Dominika. Dominika makes no outward change in naive expression, but it is obvious to both Will and Dalia that she flinched internally.

Dalia: "Will, who's your little friend?"

Dominika: "Oh, hi! Are you one of Will's teachers? I'm his friend, Dom." She holds out her hand.

Dalia shakes it. "She's funny, Will. Where did you find her?"

Jacob and Ben try not to stare, but fail. Mike just looks slightly befuddled.

It becomes quickly apparent to Will that they both know quite a lot about each other, technically. Before Will can conceive of some moderating thing to say or do, Dalia announces that she has to go to the bathroom. Whereupon, Dominika immediately joins in on the expedition.

After they're out of the room, Jacob exclaims, "Duuuuude!"

Ben: "Is this a good thing or a bad thing?"

Mike: "Are you going to share those cookies?"

After an interminable and slightly improbable amount of time later, both women return to the living room talking animatedly in Japanese. The exude a mutual aura of like and respect, and are eagerly discussing the finer points of how to dislocate someone's arm one-handed.

Images of threesomes flit through William's head.

I share the cookies and continue to hang out. I'll check out any of the other marks who seem they have landed, and I peek in on them to find out what cities they are in.

God wearily looks to see where they've gone, but his eyes glaze over. Let's just say various parts of Canada and the Survivor States of America, while a couple are on flights across the Pacific or down to Mexico.

Is there an underlying strategy to the remote puppets that could work as a summary?

Sure. I'm thinking long term. Once Portland is fairly secure, I'd like to go hunting demons in other cities. If I have a bunch of puppets set up in other cities, I can use them for hunting without actually having to leave Portland. Plus, if I can coordinate with OSS assets there, that would be even better.

So, I guess a strategy would be to have two people marked per city. Once my plane passenger lands, I'll wait until they're close to asleep, then possess them and head out. I'll find a tough bar and try to find a potential puppet that actually has decent stamina and mark them. Then take my puppet back home. So, I'll have a random person available for recognizance & healing, and a tough guy available for combat.

Understood. By this methodology, Will develops sleeper puppets in:

  • Sendai
  • Vancouver
  • Winnipeg
  • Montreal
  • Bozeman
  • Albuquerque
  • Guadalajara

Since the puppets technically can't be asleep, they are all going to suspect that they're going crazy. But it's possible to strongly suggest that they were oddly vivid dreams, and that they're unlikely to talk about it.

After a couple days of Long-Range Puppet Running, Will's Clairvoyance tells him that the Candidate Demons are imminent.

Shortly thereafter, a pair of limousines roll up. 7 people emerge from the two vehicles. One is a familiar face: Glasses Dude. Three appear to be business people of several vague generic types, who individually would blend in impeccably in a suit store or lawyers offices. Except that, right now - observable side-by-side - it is obvious that they have some eerie connection. Will sees subtle cues - they all blink in unison, and their breathing is all in synch. The second trio are all much younger, all much more blatantly Japanese, and dressed somewhat more utilitarian. What's more, in addition to the linked-cues observable in the first trio, these three have a systemic cooperative methodology for their sweeping gazes.

Glasses Dude leads the group over to Will. "Mr. Swartz, we have two candidates who have been selected from our injured ranks to apply for a partnership with your mother. Let us proceed to meet with her."

The aura of Swaartz is thick with power, and it is evident that no "normals" will be observing anything that follows.

Glasses Dude: "Let me assure you that your mother will be in no danger, and that the partnership will be completely voluntary on her part - or it will not happen. If she does not like either of the candidates, we can try again with clarifications from her for what she might hope for." He gestures for Will to stand back, out of the way.

First the stiff business types approach. In unison, they touch their hands to Mrs. Swartz' head. Then there is a startling 4-way gasp. Will's mom sits bolt upright, and the three suits all act in an independently-relieved manner.

Suit 1: "Wilma, how do you feel?"

Mom: "Better. Thank you. How do you feel?"

Suit 1: "I have a headache, we probably all do. Azaezel has a bad habit of clenching our teeth as he concentrates on driving us. He never really go the hang of controlling multiple bodies."

Suit 2: "At least he got Bob out of there before he could get whacked too, leaving us two up shit creek without sufficient sanity to recover."

Suit 3: "I am particularly grateful that I didn't have to die horribly."

All the suits nod somberly.

Mom: "OK. So. I get a sense of you three. And of... Azaezel? You all do something called, acquisitions?"

Suit 2: "Yes. It's our job to... get things. Correctly."

Suit 1: "And it seems like you would be a good fit with us, maturity-wise."

Suit 3: "...Even though Azaezel would prefer for our next fourth to be a combatant, to provide better protection."

Mom nods thoughtfully.

Glasses Dude: "Next applicant, please."

The three suits all take turns shaking Mom's hand, then she lays back down and they do the reverse laying-on of hands, and go all rigid again. They file away and the three younger Japanese approach and perform the link.

Mom sits up again, slowly. The three remain very... tense. They ease back a few steps.

Mom: "I see. How very different. Instead of treating... Yōkai? as mostly a supply of power, you focus on the conduit of communication. Ah - because you have done a lot of combat. Or, how do you refer to it? Corrections. And you tend to go through team members somewhat too quickly. None of you are part of Yōkai's original team."

Mom turns to Glasses Dude. "This one. They need me more. If there's one big way I can contribute, it's by reigning in headstrong trouble-makers." She and the other three Yōkai members all bow to each other in unison.

Glasses Dude raises an eyebrow. "Intersting. So be it." He bows to Mrs. Swartz, and leads the suits back to one of the limos.

Mom smiles at Will. "We're going to head back to the Ranch for a while, to acclimate. Before we start our assignments in Portland."

"Ok Mom. Let me know if you need anything. I've got a question for Yōkai if I may. For a demon that's driving three puppets and is reduced to one - how easy is it for him to get back into three bodies? I'm thinking of the demon currently hiding in that fortress."

Mom and the three Yakuza-types carefully but efficiently board the limo, while Mom maintains a telepathic conversation with Will.

Mom+: "THAT demon will have a very difficult time. Going from 3 to 4 essentially frees all the steeds, and is a simple matter of proximity. To go from 2 to 3 requires not only proximity, but also intense focus and a significant willpower delta - and possibly some patience. To go from 1 to 2, well, that requires the new steed to be willing, AND for the current steed to agree. That last part is a tough sell for an entity who has kept the steed enslaved."

2015.04.24 - Swarm

Very shortly after Mom+ left with team Yōkai, Will sensed something ominous via the Swaartz. So he and Mike went looking.

A few blocks driving downtown, the source of the ominousness became evident: a guy jumped down 7 stories.

Then, after side-stepping that person, they came across two more. Then a dozen.

Then they triangulated on Will. Mike drove the van to escape, while Will shot at them with the AK while leaning out the window. But there were simply too many - they swarmed the van, nearly killing Mike and ripping apart the van.

Will lead them away from Mike, and tried to disappear down a sewer, but still they pursued. They could only attack a couple at a time in the confines of the tunnel, but by then Will could sense hundreds in the vicinity, and they would eventually corner him. So he decided to lead them to the river.

He made his way haltingly down the sewer tunnel to the river overflow grate, which he bypassed and dove into the murky waters of the Wilamette. And hundreds of swarm-drones dove in to intercept him. Freed dimensionally to attack him from all directions, they did so with all the aggressive fervor of a toddler consuming a cupcake with that annoyingly-staining blue frosting.

And then, as he desperately defended himself, he waited for them all to drown. And eventually, they all did.

Plot Infliction 017 - Hive

Will emerges from a thick corpse-jam and takes a deep breath. That was ugly.

He can sense the demonic lines of influence fading from the expired drones, but the sources of that influence still exist.

I heal up to full, and try to get the water out of the AK47 so that it works. Then I start leaping roof top to roof top to head north. Going to try to find the source.

Dalia <telepathically>: "Hey Dalia! More demon bounty hunters are in town. Want to party?"

AK-47 are sturdy beasts, and work just fine underwater. Until they rust. The prospect of rusting is what's the problem, so the removal of water and re-oiling is crucial for the long-term functionality of the weapon. Happily, the Clairvoyance allows the Aether to surgically remove all hydrogen-hydroxide from the apparatus with enviable alacrity.

Sensory information leaks out of Dalia informing Will that she is, at that very moment, getting laid. And is thereby somewhat indisposed, temporarily.

Bounding from building to building, the Swaartzian trail(s) lead to a dilapidated factory/warehouse on the West bank of the Wilamette. Located by the terminus of 9th Ave, it seems to also feature a rotting dock - to which an ugly little freighter is moored. More confusingly are the crowds of regular-looking people with blank-expressions who appear to be lining up to board. The boarding process is underway, but very slow due to there being a single rickety gangway that is useable, and people are showing up faster than they can cross.

I'm going to find a good place to hide. Then I take a look at the line waiting to board and find the strongest individual near the start of the line. I'm going to try to possess him. If successful, I'll continue to act as he was before and shamble into the freighter.

Hiding: very easy for Will.

A quick perusal of the minds of thes swelling crowd reveals that they are all semi-hypnotized by some Swaartzian source on the freighter. Taking control of any of these <5 willpower people will probably be noticeable.

Ok, for now I'll just ride along in their mind without exerting any control. More sneaky, yes?

Yes: merely hitchhiking is much more stealthy. The subject has a simple, overwhelming urge to file into the main cargo hold. There, three puppets acting as conduits of formidable Swaartz systemically transform the sheeple into a new army of Swarm Drones. To replace the swarm now clogging the Wilamette with their corpses.

It's a slow process.

  • Any weapons visible anywhere in here?
  • Any sign of the 1/3 demons controlling the puppets?
  • How many drones have the converted already?
  • Any other Swaartz signs on the boat aside from the puppets/drones?

No weapons visible.

No demon steeds present - this seems to all be done remotely.

About 15 drones are complete; they're arranged protectively around the puppets.

The whole ship is heavily marked, and you sense a few crew-drone presences elsewhere.

One more check - do I sense anything explody on the ship? If not, I'm probably going to go in guns blazing.

Will senses nothing more explosive than the diesel fuel powering the ship (which, to be clear, is not even slightly explosive at atmospheric pressure).

He is also fundamentally certain that all the humans, with possible exceptions of the puppets, are all innocent victims.

2015.04.30 - Briefly On A Boat

  • Freighter assault
    • Will blocks the zombies from boarding, and heaves the gangplank into the river.
    • Leaps onto the freighter, triggering a Swaartzian alarm.
    • Descends into main hold to find the 3 puppets busily weaponizing the zombies.
    • The swarm piles around the puppets, to protect them.
    • Will starts trying to fight his way through the pile of green zombies, to get at the puppets, but finds it Sisyphean.
    • All the while, Will's clairvoyance suggests that time is running out.
    • Will manages to puppetize one of the zombies near the swarm puppets, and makes physical contact - they are being driven by Will's old friend(s) in the Hidden Citadel.
  • Encounter with the Security Demon
    • Difficult fight.
    • After Will drops one of the quarter-steeds, the fight becomes nearly impossible - because the demon is even higher stage than the steeds.
    • Will manages a miraculous escape, disappearing into the river.

Plot Infliction 018 - KaShlorp

Will is reminded that there is a giant floating mat of corpses in the river.

Seriously? Sisyphean? Who ever uses that word?  ;)

Will is going to swim to the other side of the river and then start leapfrogging towards the citadel.

Who uses awesome words? Awesome people.

As Will emerges from the river (possibly leaping from the water like a spinner dolphin), he easily bypasses the emergency responders trying to assess the extent of the floating corpse field, as well as the crowds of onlookers. Springing from building to building, a clairvoyant resonance tickles Will's Swaartz.

The swarm was a ruse to lure Will out, and the associated trap suffered a delay from the Security Demon being delayed by traffic. The same traffic which will also delay the Demon's return to the citadel. All of which is painted in the Swaartz by the insane demon's clairvoyant understanding of the risk Will's approach represents.

Going to only get close enough so that I can start to sense the minds inside the citadel. Avoid any obvious lines of site for the missile launcher. I'll check to see if there's any shielded spots again where I can't possess anyone. If I don't see any, I'll visit a mind where I think the control room is - won't take over yet, just want to look around.

Avoiding lines of sight is pretty easy for Will at this point in the story. He easily slips past the octagonal perimeter of distraction, sidesteps the antiaircraft heavy weaponry sites, and dances around the sweeping lines of attention probing from the top of the fortress.

It turns out that the whole Citadel is now one, big, protected zone - interrupting both communication and clairvoyance. Also odd is that everyone in homes around the fortress are all unconscious as well. The only active humans Will can sense in proximity of the fotress are puppets standing ready at the antiaircraft sites.

I focus on the clairvoyance... if they had to escape from the tower, but couldn't use any of the obvious exits, what would they do? Any secret tunnels anywhere?

Through the murky eddies of reality, which are being actively muddied in this particular tidepool, the best Will can divine is that they do not expect to leave the tower intact should such an eventuality unfold. A desperate flight of a single steed of the 1/3-demon is all that they might have in reserve should the citadel fall.

2015.05.08 - Collateral Damage

  • Charging the citadel?
    • Nope.
  • Check swarm freighter with crow.
    • Weaponizing of zombies continuing.
    • Will rescues an OSS agent from the thrall of the puppeteers.
  • SWARM SWARM SWARM
    • An hour later, the completed swarm of weaponized zombies starts tracking Will.
    • Will flees: (now realizing that all use of Swaartz makes him easier to track with clairvoyance)
      • steals a car
      • runs south
      • loops back to freighter to threaten the puppets (gets mocked)
      • zooms to airport, then realizes that the citadel has surface-to-air missiles within range, aborts
      • contemplates running to Washington Territory...
  • Swarm heads to destroy OHSU, just to mess with Will
    • To defend the facility, Will possesses one of his fellow students in situ.
      • starts evacuation
      • contacts Detective Thatcher to summon police support
    • Will's puppet intercepts swarm, starts whittling them down.
  • Security Demon pounces on Will while he's distracted.
    • Get's a lift from a helicopter and directions from the insane clairvoyant demon.
    • Engages Will with an air-to-ground rocket.
    • Will bails out of car and hoses the helicopter with assault weapon fire.
    • Security demon jumps down to engage directly and the helicopter flees.
    • Will possesses a passing driver and has him kamikaze into the "new guy" - immobilizing the new guy, and killing the innocent driver.
    • Security demon executes the new guy, and resumes full control of the remaining three steeds.
    • Will steers another car at them, but misses and causes a head-on collision - killing both innocent drivers.
    • Will uses Annie's Doughnuts for cover, and resorts to plain old hit-and-fade tactics. Is rather successful.
      • After killing another steed (which explodes, destroying Annie's doughnuts and killing a bunch of innocents inside), the demon/steeds go insane and become more powerful.
      • Ducking intermediate scale blasts and using newly demolished buildings as cover, Will manages to kill another of the steeds. It's death-splosion kills the final too-close steed, which causes a secondary explosion.

Plot Infliction 019 - He Can Fly!

Going to go up in Striker again, and put the three new Swaartz points into Aether.

The third stage of Striker nets:

  • +13 stamina
  • +2 hand-to-hand
  • +1 duck
  • +1 option

The level-5 Aetheric Swaartz is also significant.

Simple compounding of the force applicable means that Will can now throw 50kg around without any dice. While not exactly flying, it'll be hard to distinguish from low-level flying, and Will need not fear any heights ever again. More than that, however, is that Will can do more than merely discern the interconnectedness of space and time - he can bend it. This manifests in two new abilities.

Bent Space is really just Will being able to create and access pockets of hyperspace that exist in proximity to his Swaartz points. As a baseline, he can tuck any object under 5kg into a pocket of hyperspace, and keep it there indefinitely until he wants to pluck it out again. For larger objects, Will can designate other points of Swaartz to increase the size of the object in the hyperspacial pocket (1kg per point). Those additional points are needed to maintain the pocket of hyperspace, so they are unusable in the duration. To get them back, Will must pluck the oversized object out of hyperspace.

Bent Time is much scarier. During combat rounds, Will can shift his perceived rate of time relative to his surroundings. It is just perceptual, and does not allow him to alter physics in any way. It manifests as there being 6 dice in the dice pool - three for attack and three for defense, as the new baseline. With all-aggressive/all-defensive being 6 dice of action to roll, and any whole-number variation in-between. As before, as soon as one action diverts from the standard - now 3 - the dice for the next action are then set.

Hmmmm.... +11 to duck, +9 to parry, +2 per/die against projectiles, that means an all defensive roll will be between 38 and 68. Mwaah haa haaaa haaaa! What about stealth and movement - are they a part of the 6 die dice pool, or is it only for attacking and ducking?

Anything that uses the dice pool pulls from the same pool. If anyone can even spot Will will have a very, very difficult time hitting him with projectiles. Regardless of what body he's in.

So, what's Will's next move?

I'm going to visit Thatcher's mind to see how the cops are handling the situation at OHSU. And I'm going to start bounding towards the fortress. As I'm bounding, I'm going to keep a clairvoyant eye out for anyone I'm passing by that has 20+ stamina.

Thatcher's mind is an amusing mix of confused and relieved. The swarm was on the verge of taking a swipe at the annoying police efforts when a distracting mystery set of ninjas started wiping the swarm out.

Will can't help but notice the Swaartzian waves he makes now when he flexes his power. Even mildly clairvoyant beings will feel his disturbance in the Swaartz.

An ex-military gardener is the first 20+ stamina individual Will encounters.

Will shall pass by the gardener to get him (her?) marked, hide, and then possess him and continue on in his body to the fortress.

So, if will can move 50kg without dice, how much can he exert if he puts all dice into it?

The marking and the hiding proceed without incident. The possession happens easily, but Will does notice that it causes ripples in the Swaartz - his physical location is knowable via clairvoyance by careful observation of the puppet. However, it doesn't change the fact that Will probably hidden with a 33 in the eves of an old church.

The battle-gardener wonders if her PTSD has finally driven her insane. She is 40-something years old, 50-something kilograms, has eur-asian features, and is wearing coveralls and sandals and gardening gloves.

Will can exert per point: 1000N punch, 100N throw, 10N manipulate.
Will's 5 points of Aether mean that he can inflict 5 points of damage, or throw 50 kg, or manipulate 5 kg.
Each die Will applies counts directly for points to the number rolled on the die. So, for Will, potentially quite a lot, considering how many dice he can bring to bear.

2015.05.14 - Fun Ways To Die

Fun ways to die.

Death#1 - Battle Gardener
The little old lady puppet leapt up to the sixth floor of the citadel, tampered the window open, and proceeded to fight her way towards the control room. The demon managed to bestow massive combat bonuses on one steed, and use that steed to run a series of very effective puppets against Will's combat gardener puppet. Until, finally, she succumbed to some lucky hits.

Death#2 - Reactive Armour Windows
Divining that the main quarry was actually on the seventh floor, Will puppetized one of the Standard Issue Goons at an anti-aircraft installation and had it bound up. Those windows did not open, so Will smashed it open. Which triggered the directional explosives hidden in the mounting of the window, turning the SIG-puppet into a fine red mist.

Death#3 - Explody Demon
Puppetizing a new SIG, Will decided to head for the roof this time. There was a single guard - a lone, insane demon. Not the clairvoyant one. A different one. They played not-catch for a while, where they demonstrated a marked inability to cause each other much harm by conventional means. So Will tried to throw him off the roof. And it would have worked, except that he flubbed the telekinesis roll and the demon managed to hang onto the roof. They danced some more, and Will tried to throw him again, except that this time he had some sort of gripping power that held him in place. Then the demon got annoyed, and demonstrated that he has to power to make things explode - particularly things that are supposed to explode. Such as the scores of bullets carried by the SIG-puppet, which went off like demented popcorn and ripped the puppet apart.

Death#4 - Ooooooooh Aaaaaaaaah
Incredibly annoyed, frustrated, and justifying craziness like a crack whore selling her little sister to a drug dealer, Will ventured out to find some way to blow up the motherfucking fortress. First he ventured with a random puppet and a stolen car up to the army base to look for suitable explosives. They didn't quite have what he wanted, so he took his puppet to find a commercial pilot at the airport to steer at the air national guard to steal one of their jets. Which actually got airborne, and Will puppetized the pilot in time to swat a ground-to-air missile from the fortress aside. The F15 managed to knock out one of the missile launchers with its vulcan gun before the badness happened. The badness being the Explody Demon noticing all the lovely explosives and making them go BOOM. It's a very, very impressive set of explosions.

Style points were awarded.
Style points for sarcastic effect only; not redeemable as actual experience.

Plot Onfliction 020 - Tower Assault Planning

Let the "heroism" continue!

I'm going to possess one of the standard issue goons, stand up and address the puppet watch-dude.

"We appear to be at somewhat of a stalemate. I'd like to propose an armistice. You stop sending people after me or interfering in my life, and I'll stop trying to penetrate your fortress."

The puppet watch-dude flinches with his anti-puppet weapon (Uzi), then undergoes a truly horrible cascade of facial expressions as he gets de-puppetized then re-puppetized by a clearly more-scary being.

"An armistace, after you tried to bomb us? No, I think you've just reassured us that our defenses are adequate. You just beat your head against our fortress for now, while we drive some explosives up to OHSU, and hunt down your family and friends."

"Ha! OHSU is already being evacuated, so all you'd be doing is killing some people who can't be moved. I can finish off my degree anywhere. And well, I seem to be less and less giving a flying fuck about the family and friends, the ones that are left anyway. I think one day I'm going to own this town, so I can buy as many friends as I want. But, hey, if you want to send more people after me, feel free. Every time you do, I get more powerful. I'd still be some green loser if you hadn't started going after me."

"You are indeed a powerful individual, and it pleases us to know that as a mere human approaches our level of power they too cease to care about these pathetic monkey steeds. But you cannot change that you are part of human society, and soon enough all the humans will be property - bred purely for our use. What will you do then? Live alone in the woods, as the last free human? Until one of us succeeds in hunting you down for sport."

"Ha, Humans have been treating each other as property long before you came along. And whenever anyone values property - either human or demon, they end up fighting over it. Even if you do take over, you'll just fight each other into oblivion. And I'll be pointing and laughing in my happy little cabin in the woods in between hunting you for sport."

I'm going to leave the puppet at that point. I'll start trying to tone down my Swaartziness and just walk. Maybe hop on a bus or something.

Going to peer into the murky depths of clairvoyance. Was he serious about sending a bomb to OHSU?

Clairvoyance is indistinct on the matter of explosives at OHSU, but it is pretty clear that the demon was mostly interested in keeping you rippling the Swaartz as long as possible.

And, sure enough, several really sneaky ninja types are converging on Will's approximate location.

He evades them with ease.

How much energy Swaartz would I have to bestow on someone to give them the ability to make things go boom like that demon on the roof did?

I'm going to head to OHSU.

The Swaartz profile for Will functions profoundly differently than for the demons, so it gets difficult to translate. Much of Explody Demon's power is reliant on some Clairvoyance and Aether to focus effectively, plus he's able to pump 50+ points of Swaartz into a simple ability to make it Go Big. In much the same way that Will can bend space-time with a mere 5 points of Aether, while the demons can pump in enough points to fly but have no concept of space/time-bending.

By what form of locomotion does Will proceed towards OHSU?

Will will walk/bus either to OHSU, or to where his bicycle is - which ever is closest. I think the bike is at this apartment, but kind of lost track of it. If I get the bike, I'll use that the rest of the way.

For the energy Swaartz, I was thinking of what it would take to put someone near the base of the fortress and get them to cause all the missiles in the missile launchers to explode. I don't really need to add anything to make them Go Big, just enough to make them detonate. Any explosives on the inside too.

During the walking portion, Will's mom senses that he is not intensely engaged and pings him mentally. "Hello Will. I've learned a few things that I think you deserve to know. Hukari Insurance has been working with Pittock Industries on some... significant construction in Portland. It's meant to address the expected next stages of the global conflict, but they're not done yet. And they're struggling to keep it safe from the attentions of the various powerful demons vying for global domination. Your efforts to engage and destroy these outpost demons has been an important distraction for them - for us."

"BUT, it seems that you've attracted the attention of Geryon - the demon to whom these outpost demons report to. We're worried that if he comes here, he might see through the covering glamour of our construction."

Speaking purely of Swaartzian abilities, even Will doesn't have enough Clairvoyance to penetrate the veil of obfuscation protecting the citadel. Meanwhile, the ability to remote-detonate explosives is simply not something Will or a Will-powered individual will be able to duplicate - it's unique to this kind of demon.

Mom: "Does this Geryon demon reside in only one body and have the ability to make anything explosive explode real big?"

Mom: "That's a very interestingly specific question. Yōkai says that demons who can function within just one body are usually demons that have made themselves vulnerable to pruning and end up acting more like pets. Geryon is most certainly not one of those. Being able to manipulate explosions is a rare variety of Swaartz; where did you encounter this being?"

Light is fading fast as Will walks, and en edge of anxiety grips the city. Will can hear stray thoughts of worry as people hear news about the rogue fighter that exploded over the city for unknown reasons. The burning debris started a few minor fires in Southeast Portland, but are of much less worry than the fighter apparently firing on a neighbourhood. Meanwhile the massive suicide pact of foreign people drowning themselves in the river haunts everyones imaginations. People brace themselves for a return to some Dark Times similar to what happened a couple months ago.

Needless to say, fewer-than-usual people are out tonight.

Mom: "It was at the top of the demon citadel at Ladd's. Whenever I got close with anything explosive, he made it blow up."

I continue on to OHSU. I'll hide in the outskirts and possess someone nearby. With that someone, I'll check on the remains of the battle and see if anyone needs healing. Then I'm going to go through the hospital and heal everyone. I'll start with intensive care and work my way outward. That way if another evacuation is necessary, it will be easier. Plus, it will give a positive mystery for people to think about instead of all the scary shit.

Mom: "Shit. So much for hoping it's another faction that can be pitted against the locals. I'll ask around the office for any ideas on who it might be."

A few emergency personnel flit through OHSU trying to return order, but mostly Will see's doctors and nurses pulling extra shifts to help restore the normal functioning of the facility. In the chaos, it's relatively easy for Will to slip through and make profound differences. Much of what ailed people were things simply outside of what medical science could either diagnose correctly or treat effectively. So Will's healing powers quickly overcome 99% of people's mere physical maladies with just a few dice of healing. By midnight, the hospital is full of perfectly healthy people waiting for baffled doctors to understand how they improved well enough to ask to leave. Only victims of massive deficits that would require hours of regeneration remain.

I leave the hospital and head to a random residential area west of downtown. I'll sneak into an empty house, eat all their food, and take a nap until morning. If things go uninterrupted, I'll spend the next day studying at OHSU via a puppet and in the evening I'll contact Dalia to do some brainstorming.

Upon leaving the puppet, Will is aware of trying-to-be-subtle Swaartzian probing from the demon(s) trying to pinpoint his location. They come close - as in vicinity - but never lay eyes on Will.

The random nesting and feeding do much to improve Will's equilibrium. The nap smothers all hope of the demons finding Will, as his mind departs from the conscious surface plane they can perceive.

Another day studying is well-spent, as Will starts to connect theoretical dots on an empirical model that interconnects meaningfully with his Physical Swaartz perception. 8 more days of study until Biologist - and Doctor Swartz.

Dalia is eager to converse about plans. Taking down the tower is an idea that has driven her partially mad - because almost nobody in the city can perceive it, and so she has almost nobody else to talk about it with.

Dalia: "Have you thought about blowing it up?"

"They've got a demon lookout up top that can mess with explosives. He can make them blow up. So if we brought explosives anywhere near the place, there's a chance he would sense them and make them blow up while we're still holding them. He was able to do that with just the bullets in my gun."

What would happen if I gave Dalia ten points of Energy Swaartz? Could she just lightning bolt or fireball the fortress until it collapsed?

Dalia: "Fuckballs. I'm pretty sure it would be hard enough just getting close to the fucking thing with all the lines of sight covered. With some bullshit demonic ordinance-fucking guard, that just cripples the whole endeavour."

Will is relatively certain that with 10 points of Energy Swaartz Dalia could eventually cause the giant, fortified tower to collapse onto the neighborhood.

"There's also the problem that they are using human shields. The surrounding neighborhood is now full of people. If we blew the place up, there would be a lot of casualties. Our best asset is stealth. However, it seems the more I use my abilities, the more they can sense me. I cause waves in the magic or something like that."

"One option... a bit risky one... would be for me to transfer power to you in a way such that you can open up portals. I did that with... someone else, and it drove her nuts. However she was only second stage. I think you'd be able to handle it without any ill effect. We'd have to toast your healing power first. And I'd probably have to give you some clairvoyance so you could aim the portals well. But that would get me in - or a puppet I'm controlling in."

I focus for a bit on the clairvoyance - am I absolutely sure I can give Dalia that kind of power without causing her problems like with mom?

I contact Mom: "I'm thinking of attacking the citadel tonight... but do you think that would be too much of a lure for Geryon? Especially if it involves making more fold space portals appear? I can probably hold off - they can't find me at the moment. Though it's only a matter of time before they try some other stunt to get at me. Did you find out anything about the explody demon?"

2015.05.20 - Testing Jack Ryan

  • Summon OSS goon: JAAAAACK RYAAAAAN
  • Grant Dalia 5 Communication + 5 Energy, Grant Ryan 10 Aether + some other power
  • Penetrate Tower
  • Fight fight fight
  • Explody Demon joins in - bang bang BOOM
  • Ryan "escapes" up to 7th floor

Plot Infliction 021 - 0.05 Seconds Of Interlude

Aided by eldritch force and benefitting from experiencing time at half-speed, JACK RYAN twists midair in his leap to cling to the side of a column. A gout of hellish flame from below is cut short as the 1-tonne armoured plugs slams back down to seal the hatch.

I'm going to possess him and do a locate. I think priority target will be that single insane clairvoyant demon.

The possession will complete before initiative is rolled. A ripple of sympathetic twinges start their march across Ryan's skin, radiating from the spine outward.

The locate doesn't need to wait, as Will can perceive through Ryan's senses already. There are 10 beings in the room besides Jack Ryan, even though he only sees 9. Three of them are non-demons, and they are seated with their minds in a trance-like state. Three are extremely powerful demons, which all seem familiar - especially Frank Drebin. Another triad of demon-steeds are also present, and they are in the midst of retracting their very large number of lines of control so that they can stop being semi-prone. And, finally, what Ryan didn't see was the insane clairvoyant demon chained to a wall with heavy cables syphoning power from him. His near-invisibility being generated from a blinding concentration of Swaartz.

No weapons are evident in the room.

2015.05.29 - Kill Them All

Frank Drebin Is Dead.

Along with Drebin's co-steeds, another trio of an Unknown Demon, the Insane Clairvoyant Demon, and the trio of spare steeds that Will and Dalia possess to expand the fight. Plus the Explody Demon, which took flinging many puppetized Standard Issue Goons against (literally).

In the wrap-up of the purging of the Hidden Fortress, Will detected a demonic shard hidden in the (remains of the) luxurious living quarters on the 8th floor. It turned out to be a booby-trapped connection to another extremely powerful demon, who tried (and failed) to possess/soulfuck Will.

Plot Infliction 022 - Aftermath

Time to contact a bunch of people telepathically.

Mom: "Hi Mom, got good news and bad news. Good news is that all the demons hiding in the fortress are dead. Really dead. Bad news is that I definitely attracted the attention of a scary demon - maybe that one you were talking about. Just a heads up."

General Iskrets: "The demons I've been fighting in Portland are dead."

Mike: "Dude! Demons are dead. We should have a party later."

Dominika: "Feeling the need to celebrate. Meet at my apartment?" Booty Call!!!

Mom+: "Interesting news, dear. Can you elaborate on what you mean by 'definitely'?" She has an aura of worry, is obviously has a lot more than Will to worry about.

General Iskrets: "Excellent! Good work, Agent." He has an aura of flickering hopefulness.

Mike: "Dude! Awesome!" He has an aura of profound relief.

Dominika: "I'm flattered, however now that my mission has shifted from infiltration to liaison, I don't really have to pretend to like short guys other than to maintain public appearances. Sorry." Her aura is mostly professional detachment, but also streaked with concern about having her preferences magically altered.

I try to visualize my experience with the crystal and communicate that to Mom+. I'll cut communication with the rest for now. Going to go to all the anti-aircraft sites around the citadel and make them vanish to random onlookers just like the citadel.

Jack Ryan: "I'm not sure how long the fold space ability will last. If you guys have some ideas on reconnaissance, now would be a good idea to implement them. I'm going to go have a drink." I'm going to go find Mike and hang out with him for a while. For the immediate future, the plan is to lay low and finish my degree to become Dr. Swartz.

Mom+: "I see. That's distressing. It certainly seems like that was Geryon, and I'm afraid that almost certainly means that war is coming. Soon. Unless you can intercept his puppets and continue distracting him. Because if Geryon himself drives a puppet in Portland, we won't be able to hide what we're doing for long."

Technically, the AA-sites already had a liberal splash of S.E.P. field - just nothing in comparison with the whole-demon-powered disruption shields that were running on the Hidden Citadel. Nevertheless, it is probably wise for Will to reinforce the effect with a fresh application of F-off powers.

Will senses Jack and Dalia teleporting to Hawai'i to celebrate.

Mike is at Rock Bottom, cheerfully explaining to Jacob about how the city just got a whole lot better.

To Rock Bottom! For much drinking and merriment!

The Rock Bottom is rather fun and has many arrayed merriments. Spoiled only slightly by Will's mom being able to telepathically beam worry directly at his brain, mostly with respect to him needing to dream up some way to find/distract Geryon.

2015.05.03 - Doctor Swartz

  • long-range puppet check
    • Montreal has demon fights
    • Guadalajara has something ominously hidden
  • remote interjection into Montreal
    • possesses the Nurse and somewhat clumsily transfers to a Quebecois gangster named Fayette
    • intercepts trans-demonic conflict, but cannot parse how to be helpful (situation complicated)
  • Doctor Swartz
    • Will lays low and finishes stage of biologist
    • schemes with mentor Dr. Joseph Warioba about developing a medical method to make humans resistant to demons
  • waterfront fight
    • Detective Thatcher requests Dr. Swartz help with a situation on the south waterfront between some "powered" individuals, and with some police officers trapped at the scene
    • Will uses a crow to interdict, possess some goons, and kill everyone
      • ALMOST everyone...

Plot Infliction 023 - Dr. Strangelove

A minion demon?

I walk over to the puppet and hold out my hand. "Show me everything about your operation." If he takes my hand I try to use the communication Swaartz to suck all his knowledge (while making metaphysical slurping noises).

SLURP SLURP SLURP

The short-circuited puppet reveals that the demon's steeds operate near Mount Hood - a semi-lawless region due to the high-ish concentration of survivalists who reject the authority of the Independant Republic Of Oregon, and in return are benignly ignored by the IRO due to relative lack of trouble-making. The demon has been quietly dominating one survivalist compound, but was lured to see what opportunities had opened up after witnessing the massive disturbance in the Swaartz after Drebin died.

Will can also sense that the demon is refraining from using the same connection to inquire about anything.

2015.05.11 - Nukes

  • OSS roll-out plan to claim PDX
  • impending DOOM
    • Geryon searches PDX for Will, but finds the Dreadnaught Yards on Swan Island and recognizes that they're tactically significant
    • sends 3 nukes to destroy PDX - Will and the dreadnaughts
    • Will imbues some Oregonian Air Guard pilots with 10 points of clairvoyance - to find the nukes
      • they do
      • plus other things, too
      • the one that doesn't die gets brain damage from Will to hide his secrets
    • nukes are intercepted and destroyed (leaving ugly craters and non-trivial radioactive dispersal)
  • Geryon gets angry and attacks the dreadnaught yards directly (only really manages to badly damage one as the rest move out of range)
  • Will is lured into combat, and faces the full fury of the arch-demon
    • Will goes down, and gets rescued by teleport-powered JAAAAACK RYAAAAN

Plot Infliction 024 - Hawaii

Obvious first order of business is to heal up to full. Then I'm going to dump all dice into trying to purge that mark Geryon put on me.

Done and done. It just takes uncomfortably long to get the required 42. Likewise to cleanse Jack Ryan of his own Geryon exposure.

Jack: "Let's go back to Portland, just not anywhere near Swan Island. Oh, and have you ever heard of a place called Castlegar?"

Mom: "Everything ok? Is Geryon still at Swan Island?"

Jack: "Agreed, let's head back to PDX. Negative, sir, never heard of a place called Kasselbar."

Mom: "All operatives have evacuated. Except for the dead. Geryon's location is unknown."

Once I'm back in PDX, I do a locate for any large ripples in the Swaartz that may be Geryon.

Mom: "Bullets just bounced off of him. Any ideas for taking him down? I think if I can get close I'm going to try straight hand to hand next time to see if that has any effect."

Back in PDX, there are many eddies and swirls in the Swaartz, but they are all echoes of the profound disturbances. There is no clear indication about where Geryon is now. But there is a clear added density of Swaartz locally - a giant mass of Geryon's power is somewhere locally. Just not active, so as to reveal its vectors.

Mom: "It is because of being like Geryon that we started developing the dreadnaughts - but they're unfinished. And, um, missing a key component. Without them functional, it would be very difficult to defeat one of his steeds. It would almost certainly have to be done in close-quarters, but it would be essentially suicide. And, sadly, he almost certainly has the means to recover the loss."

"What key component? Something to make the nuclear engines run?"

Will resists using any powers for the moment while we walk/bus/drive/whatever away from where we arrived in Portland.

Jack: "We need to get you somewhere aside from Hawaii that would serve as a good bug-out spot. Geryon knows about Hawaii now, and I wouldn't be surprised if he tries to figure out a way to have something waiting for us the next time we go there. I'd like you to get the General to put you on a plane somewhere and then once you're there, teleport back here. Maybe Australia?"

After Jack goes, I'm going to start riding or bussing around Portland. I'm going to be using the Clairvoyance to do two things - keep an eye out for Swaartz activity, and keep an eye out for high stage strikers - 4th or 5th stagish. If I find one I'm going to focus on them and try to determine two things - their nature, and how they would react to all the magic. Maybe swing past dojos or kickboxing centers.

HICCUP

Reality delayed by, uh, reality.

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