[adamu]

[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

A bearded ork roustabout in a sleeveless Darwin’s Bastards T-shirt shrugged and put a cigarette between Al’s lips. But his matches had apparently gotten wet in the rain, and he couldn’t strike a light.

“Here, amigo, let ol’ Al do that fer ya.” His burn-scarred hands snatched the matches from the ork and he quickly coaxed some fire out of one. Closed his eyes, Inhaled. Breathing easier he looked around and saw eyes wide as saucers. Then he glanced down at the ropes now lying in a heap at his feet. Dammit, he’d forgotten he was pretending to still be tied up.

He was about to take advantage of their momentary surprise to seize the initiative and try telling his side of the story, when that damnable Cockney voice rang out again. “‘Ee’s loose, ‘ave at ‘im!” and a dozen bodies bowled him over in the chair. One pulled a knife and said, “Enough messing around here.”

Out of cards to play, Al called on his voodoo protectors for aid - and it worked! (The Tattoo Witch would be so pissed off!) A familiar French-accented voice cried out, “What is going on here?”

“This guy killed the Crawford kids, so we’re killing him!”

“Carved their eyes out, ‘ee did.”

“But this is nonsense. The boys are fine. They just pulled up with the Hawkins group. I saw them myself.” It took a minute, but the mustachioed man managed to persuade the mob that Al was indeed one their own hired guns.

As Al quickly retrieved his gear and headed for the door, he said, “I thank ye kindly, Marc the Magnificent.”

“Do not thank me, sir, you are a rogue and a Philistine. The battle without apparently rages on, and my sole purpose in securing your release is so that you can go out and die in our defense.”

So Al went out the door and jumped down, Docs splashing simultaneously into the gray ash mud.

The shooting had stopped, but there was no mistaking the running lights on the big T-bird - the same one he’d played chicken with just a few minutes earlier - hovering near a clearing not fifty yards to his south and east.

Shotgun slung, rifle in his right hand and the ork’s cigarette in his left, he set out through the rain in that direction.

[adamu]

[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

When he got to the clearing, all that was there was the T-bird, not too far off the ground. Noisy as all hell.

But just a bit deeper into the trees there was something else. He walked toward it. There wasn’t much light, but it was enough for his fancy new eyes to let him see just fine, though he wished it wasn’t.

Damndest creature he’d ever laid eyes on was there, and he’d seen some beauts. Big like a truck, and just sitting there atop some injun’s corpse, blubbering away. It seemed to be  talking to someone, but he couldn’t see anyone else around.

He went closer, close enough he could smell the thing, but it took no notice of him. Had on some sort of crown, tiny on its giant misshapen head.

Overhead, there was a swirling congregation of rotodrones. He hoped they all belonged to this Dogmeat character, and then he remembered he was supposed to have IDed himself so as not to get shot.

He paused and smoked for a moment.

<<Dogmeat, that yer handle? It’s Al Guthrie here. I think we’s all of a side on this thing, so tell yer toys not ta shoot. Cutter, boy, you still in that bird? And can someone tell me where the Seer is, where the bad guys have got to, and just what the HELL this ever-lovin’ monstrosity is?”>>

[saithor]

Calm down. We only have his word that he is the only way to take it off. No matter what happens, we will find a way to fix this, you have my word. Now, is there absolutely any way of removing it that you can think of? Alicia said into the astral. She could only hope that things were going better in the physical world than in the meta world.

[All4BigGuns]

Bringing the T-Bird in for a 'true' landing, Cutter transmits <<@Team: Anyone wanting a lift, get here ASAFP. This sitch really turned into a Charlie Foxtrot, so we need to just get back to the main caravan and circle the wagons until we can get a good mechanic in to fix it up.>>

[gilga]

<<Al Guthrie I added you to the no kill list but monstrosity - seriously?... this is our little Seer girl - now imagine how trolls first felt when they appeared.

 She is unique - one of a kind - and her exterior now reflect it as well. I actually like her better this way - make her more well 'human' nobody should be perfect>>

[adamu]

[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

Al flashed a thumbs up toward the cockpit of the landing vectored-thrust vehicle and then shouted into his commlink over the roar of the engines: <<Much obliged, Dogmeat. Like yer name, by the way. Sorry 'bout any inter-species insensitivity, but sheee-it, that's the Seer we's guardin'? Seems awfully big. What car was it on? And has anyone got a twenny on the opposition? Them's all yore birds up there, right?>>

[gilga]

<< My birds are next to the Seer - must be some other birds... my call sign is a tribute to a famous dog of pre-historic game scene... even before the matrix. My ancestors were deeply influenced by that dog. 

Yeap she is big so there is more to guard... she decided to wear some sort of artifact and now she cannot take it off... silly spirit - I really thought spirits were a lot smarter than that... Nevermind we'll just never understand the immortals they have .... a different perspective.   

Here are coordinates along with some bird eye view form one of my drones.  Our job description do not refer to the visual out look of the seer, so as far as I am concerned no problem - unless you really want to help her take that thing off - but I am here to protect a special cargo. It is difficult enough she brings her captives from the dead - you just have to continue shooting them so they stay dead.

I am telling you, this spirit girl has some Stockholm syndrome. Even after her captives are dead, she is crying big green tears  - there is still a little girl inside. If I was big enough I'd give her a hug.

And about the opposition- fearing of shooting the wrong people I am now on a self defense mode - I arrvied late and well I have no idea whats going on... I shoot the people that took the Seer they seem to be dead now.

There are more hostiles around but they seem to be peaceful so for the meantime my drones are circling the Seer... every man has a death moment, I see no need to rush around killing people - we will all die eventually.

we are all in the same business after all - even the opposition.  If they let us keep the seer and do not attack the circus i am for happy not to shoot them.
I already killed two people today - this is two too many.  Some of them might have been old friends or colleagues who knows can't see anything right in this weather.
>>

He then send another message

<< cutter ? can you pick up my meat body ? I'll feel safer with you around then randomly placed in the middle of all this mess. I am sending the car toward the LAV just wait a bit.>>

[adamu]

[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

Al walked around the wailing creature, studying it as the mysterious drone-jockey spoke into his ear. The thing looked like a giant insect wrapped up mummy-style, each of six pale green appendages ending in three clawed fingers. A bit spooky, but also appeared too awkward to move quick.

Once he'd had a good look, and on hearing that some of the obviously armed drones overhead were hostile, and that there were other bad guys about as well, he faded back into a the shadowy space between three closely placed trees.

<<Well, kemo sabe, if you got no idear what's goin' on, then that makes the pair of us. So what about this Seer bein' inside that thing? That there crown turn her into it? Peter, James, an' John, that's a pickle, shore enough.>>

He stubbed out his cigarette, then crept to a different hide, still in sight of the T-bird and the Seer-beast.

<<So whatcha reckon? Cutter's made his vote purty clear, but I done took cred to look after this here... cargo, so can't hardly turn muh back.>>

[gradivus]

[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

Ichirō was thinking of the endless array of symbols with which the spirits speaks to us of the eternal life. But the universe is even more talkative and it speaks not only of the ultimate things (which it does always in an obscure fashion) but also of closer things, and then it speaks quite clearly. At the moment it yelled pain and the need to stand up or die in an ignoble fashion.

So Ichirō grabbed onto the tree for support and stood up. The pain almost made him drop but he took in a deep breath to steady himself. There was no sign of his enemy. Not that he was in much shape to do any fighting at the moment.

The pilot in that craft also shot at my enemies.Perhaps they can be an ally of convenience and provide medical care. It cannot hurt to inquire. And hopefully I can repay any debt incurred as fast as humanly possible.

Ichirō walks towards the waiting T-Bird and in English yells into it, "Is there a medic or medkit on board?"

[adamu]

[Saturday September 14th, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

Al watched the big bright red figure approach the LAV and heard his question. There was a monster, and there were plenty of drones around, but this was the first actual meta he had spotted on the scene since stumbling into this chaos.

And he had no idea who the person was.

The T-bird's door was open - couldn't risk losing the tactical advantage Cutter had somehow won for them…<<Anyone know horn-head here?>> he broadcast to the team, and then moved to intercept without waiting for an answer.

Trying to keep at least a little vegetation between himself and the drones overhead, he made himself - and his leveled rifle - visible to the newcomer. "Whoa, there, baby," he shouted loud enough to be heard over the idling engines, "reckon that there ride belongs to a co-worker o' mine. So afore makin' yerself at home there, ya mind tellin' ol' Al who in blazes you are?"

[gradivus]

[Saturday September 14, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

Matsui Ichirō looked down on the dwarf. At least here is a man who confronts you face to face. Not like that eta who ran into the woods. Hopefully, he shall prove more helpful than difficult.


"You may call me, Fujikami Hiedeki. But in this country that puts the self before the family, you would say Hiedeki Fujikami. I believe we have enemies in common. Who do I have the honor of addressing? And is there any medical aid available?"

[riki.joat]

[Friday September 13, 2075, Kale's Garage, Puyallup, Seattle]
Kale wiped the sweat off his brow, his truck was working fine but he liked to clean the parts every once in a while to make sure it's in good order. Still getting used to not wiping his forehead with his right arm, thr metal tended to cut his forehead.

It was 11 at night, Kale should be asleep but it was hard with the job the next day. He hated it too, first paying job he gets offered by somebody other than Roscoe and he had to turn it down. If Roscoe hadn't saved his life, Kale would have said slot it. But no, Roscoe needed a boat, and Kale was the only guy he knew with a boat. It was an easy job anyway, some guy needed to be picked up at Seattle harbour, dropped off at a boat, and that was it. He'd find his own way back. It seemed strange to Kale, but he wasn't one to question. He knew better than that. Plus he should be back in town by 9 or a little after, he couldn't take the job with the circus but he might have time to run over to Tarislar see if he could see something.

Kale smiled and put the piece back where it belonged in his truck. Maybe he'd look at his boat one more yime, than hit the sack.

[Aria]

[Saturday September 14, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

With the sound of the LAVs engines rendered to a muted whine the wind once more dominates your senses as it crashes through the pines around you.  The silence from the foe is ominous…

Then one of the occasionally seen rota drones buzzing the clearing accelerates down towards you, it’s weapon clearly pointing away in a gesture of submission.  A harsh voice is emitted from a speaker mounted somewhere on the drone's airframe

“Alright fraggers.  We want to trade.  That way we all get something out of this fucked up afternoon.  You willing to talk…or shall we just go back to blowing the shit out of each other?”

[saithor]

Alica made a calming motion again towards the seer. "Wait a while please. I need to find out what is going on in the physical world." Leaving the Astral, Alicia returned to the real world, and immediatly opened up her comn.

>>To: All
>> I just finished talking to the seer throught the astral. The extraction team has stuck some soprt of crown artifact onto her that's doing something to her, and we killed the only person who can take it off, supposedly. What's been ging on here?

She waited for a reply. She didn't want to abandon the seer, but to be fair, the seer had been a little to passive, and had really brought this down upon herself in a way, but she didn't think the spirit should be forced to pay for it with imprisonment.

[adamu]

[Saturday September 14, 2075; Ruins of Graham, Puyallup, Seattle]

Al was just opening his mouth to reply to the big oni when one of the swirling mess of drones came down and offered some sort of parlay. So he was just about to reply to that when his earbud rang to life again. He was starting to feel busier than a one-legged man at a kicking contest.

The good news was it was the welcome voice of Ms. Reeves - at last someone he was pretty sure he could trust, and who seemed a have a clear idea of what had happened to the Seer.

The drone's offer to talk made him momentarily less worried about getting shot. He held up a single finger in the air, beckoning the machine to wait, then walked toward the red-skinned meta standing outside the T-bird's hatch. As he walked, we spoke: <<Well, Ms. Reeves, seems they's backed off fer the nonce an' wants ta talk about tradin' somethin'. They got anything we want?>>

Closer now to the stranger, he looked him up and down carefully. "Well, konichiwa ta you too, Mr. Hidekami. That was a most gentlemanly speech. You's one o' them Nipponese-style tuskers, ain't ya? Ol' Al's never seen one inna flesh afore, an' the sight does make an impression.. Reckon I'll further allow as you do look to have been shot up purty good, an' I'd sincerely like ta help ya. But seein' as how I don't know ya from Adam, I can't let ya board the bird jist yet..>>