Atrophy

~ Winds Of Fate - A Thief's Adventure ~ (1.0)

OH YEAH NEW BLOOD WOO!

She is absolutely fantastic.. I am so glad you're here @Atrophy, that is exactly what I am looking. Grand posting!

@Arkitekt

Aw geez now I'm getting all bashful. Thanks boss. I really dig the playing field we were given so far. I went ahead and added a link to my dice rolls in the character sheet, so if anyone wants to take a gander at those numbers then they're there. It might also provide some very vague outlines for the next post I got in the chamber, which I plan on dropping after some other introductions.

While we're on dice, I want to make sure I got the flaw modifier right. Let's say Prudence is rolling to sucker punch Ayden (Don't know if it was intentional,@Jarl Coolgruuf, but our character's flaw play off of each other really nicely). Normally, her sucker punch is a normal 3d2 but let's say he hurt her feelings sense she's a real sensitive type so it triggered her first flaw and tagged her with that -2 modifier. So while normally a 5 on a 3d2 would be a good success the modifier would make it a 3 which would be a big old failure and Prudence would just end up smacking the constable who happened to be standing next to Ayden or something equally awful, right?

Vivid Recollections Season 2: Into The False Light [COMPLETE]

But anyways scrublords I have an announcement to make: I joined the RP and I'm going out to basic in October. I aim to finish the RP before then because we are more than halfway through the story. I know we stalled a bit here and there but I'm hoping we can pull it off.

@Ruler Inc

I can't tell if the first RP was the wrong word or if this is how you tell us that you were secretly English this entire time. Anyway, I think we can definitely manage about five to six more posts by then :P

~ Winds Of Fate - A Thief's Adventure ~ (1.0)

Prudence Stolz

The Red Sail — Evening

The sun began to set, and the fading light chased the workers away from the docks and into the warm embrace of the Red Sail. Prudence always enjoyed the evening rush because it meant drunken chatter and music performances, which drowned out the noises from the performances behind closed doors. It was another story during the day when the Madame didn’t pay for performers and the bar was mostly empty. Then Prudence was stuck listening to boots knocking and girls overselling. She thought she’d get used to it after two years, but cries of alleged ecstasy still made her giggle like a child—it didn’t help that some of the girls repeated the same outbursts from client to client like they were reading the script of some bawdy play. She could hardly make eye contact with the johns as they left because it was difficult not to burst out laughing at their big smiles and inflated egos. Fontaine once told her that most of their clients didn’t pay to get their rocks off; they paid to have someone give them attention. If Fontaine said so, then it must be true.

Usual nights Prudence would be posted at the stairs up to make sure that the only people going up were accompanied by one of Fontaine’s girls, but tonight was a different night and Garzo had the stairs. She wasn’t going to be in the Red Sail at all once the big guy took his post. It was a shame too, because the fiddle player could really work that bow. However, Prudence had heard a rumor about some going-ons out in the Slums that might be bad for business. It wasn’t something the Madame needed to be bothered with—she was cooking up something and was out for the night, although Prudence didn’t know what—but it did need to get handled. Prudence scanned the crowd to make sure there were no faces there that shouldn't be than pushed her way to the bar. Garzo was late. Maybe the tender had heard something.

Selena was working the tap. She was a sweet lass with blonde hair and a low cut blouse that really left little to the imagination. The girl was pretty enough that it confused Prudence as to why she only ever poured drinks and talked shit, or at least it confused her until Selena showed her that rash. Selena told her it was benign. Prudence didn’t know what benign meant, but she assumed it meant fucking disgusting. She had seen bloated corpses in better condition. After it had appeared nobody wanted to buy her, but Fontaine kept her on largely out of pity—plus she could pay her less than other bartenders. Crafty.

“Thought you were off tonight, love,” said Selena as she filled a mug for a client, making certain to lean over and give him the full display. Fontaine may have paid her less, but she made up for it with tips.

“You know I ain’t never off,” said Prudence, brushing a strand of red hair out of her face. Her voice sounded strained as always, like she was recovering from a sore throat. More likely it was just damaged from yelling. “But I am going out. Just waiting for Garzo to watch the stairs. You know where that good-for-nothing got off to? I swear I saw him earlier.”

“Is that really a question?” asked Selena, glancing upstairs.

“I’m gonna kill that stupid goatfu—” Prudence screwed up her face. Fontaine once said that swearing made people look unintelligent. She swallowed her rage. “With Priscilla? Again?”

“He gives that girl nearly his entire salary,” said Selena with a smirk. "Thinks they're in love. Poor lad."

“Stupid lad,” said Prudence as she cracked her knuckles and turned towards the stairs.

“Stupid indeed,” said Selena as Prudence walked away. The bartender had seen that look before. It usually meant unpleasantness.

Prudence made her way to Priscilla’s room. Garzo was a good boy, maybe twenty at best, a big of an ox and with a face like he had been trampled by one. He wasn’t very smart, but he knew how to stand in a spot and look tough. At least Prudence thought he knew how to do his job, but this was the third time this month that he had missed part of his shift because he was being entertained by Priscilla. Prudence could forgive it once. She warned him after twice. And now he had done it a third. Again, he wasn’t very smart. As for Priscilla, well, she and Prudence never quite saw eye to eye. The girl always acted all high and mighty, and if it wasn’t for Fontaine then Prudence would’ve made Selena and her weird rash a more enticing choice for a companion than Priscilla. She rapped her knuckles on the door.

“Occupied,” said Priscilla.

“It’s Prudence.”

“And yet despite that fact, it's still occupied!” called back Priscilla in that sing-song voice of hers. Prudence fumed. She promised Fontaine to protect the girls, especially when the Madame was away, but Prudence hoped for a day when she heard violence from Priscilla’s door. She’d take her sweet time opening the door that day. However, all she heard today was the stifled laugh of a deep bass and the annoying titter of a little twat. She tried the knob. Locked, of course, but she had the key. However, the little click of the latch wouldn’t quite send the message she was trying to communicate. A vicious grin appeared on her face as she took one big step back then—

Boom!

—Prudence kicked open the door and snapped the latch, the hinges barely keeping on as it slammed against the wall. Priscilla screamed and went to cover herself while Garzo, naked as the day he was born, was ripped from the bed and slammed up against the wall. Being six foot two he had a few inches on Prudence, not to mention many, many more pounds, but she was strong, she was angry, and she had a dagger on her belt within inches of Garzo’s favorite prized possession. She dug her fingers into his shoulders as she continued to pin him to the wall, bringing him down to eye level so her green eyes could cut through him. She wasn't really mad at Garzo—it was hard to hate an idiot—but being firm worked best with him.

“Get your clothes on, go down stairs, and stay there for the rest of the night. You can see her after your shift. If I ever hear of you taking that thing out again when you’re on Madame Fontaine’s clock, I'll give it to her with your resignation. Do you understand?” she said, seething.

Garzo nodded and grabbed his slacks. He was a good boy, and maybe he wasn’t so stupid after all. Now there was just Priscilla to deal with. Technically, she had done no wrong by taking a paying client, but Prudence knew that she was letting the lad believe that there was something more romantic than a money transaction going on between the two. It was a fine technique to use on other clients, but not one of their own. Tended to make things complicated later on. Garzo was the replacement for the last guy who had fallen in love with a whore. He had tried dueling a client for his woman's honor. Prudence had to drag his body out of the street. It made her wish she had shot him herself.

“You broke my door!” whined Priscilla, a sheet wrapped around her. Prudence could see why Garzo was so infatuated with her between her raven hair and her pale skin. She was a notch above the other girls. In looks, that is. Looks aren't everything in bed. “I can’t work without privacy. I, I can’t! It’s not fair!”

“I broke Madame Fontaine’s door!” barked Prudence. She’d be docked that pay, but it was worth it to see the look of terror on Priscilla’s face. “You don’t own the door. You don’t own this room. You don’t even own your body. And that sheet too. You don’t own that either. You’re property. You’re a chair. You’re an annoying little chair with one leg shorter than the other so it wobbles when you sit. So be a chair, and shut up.”

“I, I, I...I’ll tell Fontaine! I’ll tell her you tried to hurt me!”

“Then Madame Fontaine will know that you’re lying,” said Prudence, taking a step towards Priscilla, “because I would not have just tried to hurt you. We can get other girls. You can’t get another face. So no. You won’t say a word.”

“But!”

“Is a word. You’re done now. Go downstairs. Work the bar with Selena and we’ll have no more of this. Got it?” Priscilla nodded. “What, you’re a mute now? I asked you if you got it. Got it?”

“Got it, Pru—”

“I told you to shut your mouth. Go on now, get out of here before I shut it for you,” snapped Prudence.

Priscilla practically sprinted out of the room, still wearing just a sheet. Prudence stared out the door for a moment and then laughed, a hand going up to her mouth to cover a smile. She was probably going to get in a heap of trouble for that, but it was definitely worth it. She stepped out of the room and looked over the banister. Selena was scolding Priscilla behind the bar, and Garzo was standing at the bottom of the stairs where he should’ve been ten minutes ago. Everything would be in order for Madame Fontaine when she returned, which meant Prudence was fine to leave. It was a good thing, too. That little incident had gotten her blood boiling, and she was just itching to hurt someone. This rumor better have checked out.

~ Winds Of Fate - A Thief's Adventure ~ (1.0)

@ArkitektCool beans. I moved her over. Need to still figure out how much currency Prudence has on her. I kind of like the idea of Fontaine telling Prudence that she's paying her an exorbitant amount of money but most of it goes into covering her living expenses, so Prudence just ends up with a handful of bits like she's getting allowance.

~ Winds Of Fate - A Thief's Adventure ~ (1.0)

Prudence Stolz
Level: 1 (Thug, Apprentice)
Currency: 0 bits
Ammunition: 0
Armor: +2
Status: Head Wound (Mild), Heavy Bruising

Prudence

Gender: Female
Age: 24
Race: Human
Origin: The Rigomar Islands
Attire: Hardened leather jacket with a hood, loose shirts, leather gloves, dark trousers, dirty boots, and a green scarf.
Demeanor: Devil-may-care, smug, and hotheaded.

Flaws: Pistols At Dawn— Respect is more precious than gold. Prudence will not ignore any insult, taunt, or challenge, and she’s quick to turn harmless words into deadly violence.
Me Knife’s Sharp! — And just her knife. Prudence isn’t a raving idiot, but she isn’t bright. Hell, she barely qualifies as dim, and that’s only on a good day. She illiterate, bad with numbers, and pretty easy to manipulate.

Attributes:

Awareness: [2] A few years of sailing taught her how to determine east from west, and a couple bad nights taught her to notice when the drunk hovering near her was about to spew.
Strength: [4] She's tossed men larger than her out of the Red Sail. Literally. Picked them up and tossed them. People still talk about it.
Dexterity: [4] Graceful might never be a word used to describe Prudence, but she is quick like a cat and nearly just as vicious.
Charisma: [2] Prudence isn't pretty, but her personality can be even uglier.
Intelligence: [0] The only person who doesn't know that Prudence is very, extremely, incredibly dumb is, well, Prudence.
Wit: [1] Some people make up for their lack of book smarts with street smarts. She isn't one of those.
Willpower: [5] The nice thing about being so thickheaded is that she can take a few extra knocks to it before she drops.
Luck: [2] She doesn't have bad luck, at least.

Skillsets

Might Makes Right [5] - Intimidation. A reputation for violence and an aggressive demeanor help make others susceptible to her whims. Rolls whenever Prudence attempts to strongarm an individual. Successes means she gets what she wants, within reason. Failures typically means she gets what she deserves.
Master Of Arms [2] - Weapon knowledge. A military background has made Prudence better prepared when it comes to fighting with more than small blades. Rolls 1d20+2 whenever Prudence picks up a new weapon. Scoring 8+ lowers the unfamiliar weapon modifier to -1, while a 15+ removes the negative modifier completely.
Just A Scratch [5] Toughness. Prudence can take some pretty meaty wallops before her body gives in. Rolls whenever Prudence attempts something that’d end up getting herself hurt. Success means she takes less harm. Doesn’t roll when someone attacks Prudence.
Soldier On [5] Athletics. Prudence doesn’t necessarily treat her body like a temple, but it seems to be carved out of similar materials. Rolls whenever Prudence attempts to use her speed or strength to accomplish something demanding.
Honor Is Dead [3] Sucker punch. The easiest fights to win are the ones where the other bastard doesn’t even know there is one. Prudence rolls a 1d20+3 when attacking an unsuspecting target.

Background:

Prudence deserted the Rigomar Merchant Navy two years ago. It occurred during yet another routine trade run for the Pricer Company, a “family-owned” company that held a monopoly on just about all of the spice that came from the Rigomar Islands. Roberto Pricer, eldest son of Wyland Pricer and heir to the company, happened to be on the ship. He also happened to be a total asshole, and after a heated argument with Prudence over this and that he also happened to be really good at getting stabbed about six or seven times in the chest. Prudence realized her defense of “he had it coming” wouldn’t save her from the firing squad, so she took a dinghy and rowed to the nearest town. From there she stowed away on a ship and ended up in Gullian.

Nearly delirious from dehydration and half-starved, the first door Prudence stumbled through on the docks was the Red Sail Brothel. Madame Fontaine gave her food and water and offered her a place to stay, and like a fool Prudence thought this was some kind of altruism. It was only a few weeks later when Prudence had regained her full strength that the Madame hit her with the bill. Without any money she had no hope of repaying Fontaine , so her debtor proposed another deal. Prudence vehemently disagreed at first, thinking that Fontaine was talking about her becoming a whore, but Fontaine laughed her off. She didn’t need a whore; she needed an enforcer. Fontaine had recognized Prudence’s jacket as being Merchant Navy, and she figured having a professional soldier on her side might give her the leg up on her peers. In return for free room and board, plus a little spending dough, Prudence just did whatever Fontaine ordered her to do. In a way, it was no different than the military. It wasn’t an awful option for it being the only one. Prudence took it.

The last two years have been pretty good for Prudence and Madame Fontaine. Prudence has grown fiercely loyal to the Madame, and Fontaine sees to covering for Prudence when her impulsiveness draws the wrong kind of attention. As well as doing dirty work for Fontaine and extending her influence outside of the Brothel, Prudence regularly assists in security at the Brothel and holds the same protective stance like her boss has towards the other girls. Fontaine might be the one who marks those who would harm her girls, but Prudence is the one who holds them down.

Personal Effects:

-Hooded jacket. Quite worn, but made of hard leather so if offers some protection.
-Set of clothes. Decent quality, nothing exciting.
-A dagger. Standard iron, well used.
-Blackjack/sap. Fontaine doesn’t always want bloodshed.
-Utility belt. Scabbards for her dagger and a pouch for coins and small items.
-Silk scarf. Green. A gift that holds some sentimental value. Worn over her belt.

Prudence's Rolls

~ Winds Of Fate - A Thief's Adventure ~ (1.0)

@ArkitektLet me know what I ruined!

Prudence

Prudence Stolz
Currency:
Ammunition: 0
Status:

Gender: Female
Age: 24
Race: Human
Origin: The Rigomar Islands
Attire: Hardened leather jacket with a hood, loose shirts, leather gloves, dark trousers, dirty boots, and a green scarf.
Demeanor: Devil-may-care, smug, and hotheaded.

Flaws: Pistols At Dawn— Respect is more precious than gold. Prudence will not ignore any insult, taunt, or challenge, and she’s quick to turn harmless words into deadly violence.
Me Knife’s Sharp! — And just her knife. Prudence isn’t a raving idiot, but she isn’t bright. Hell, she barely qualifies as dim, and that’s only on a good day. She illiterate, bad with numbers, and pretty easy to manipulate.

Skillsets

Might Makes Right [3] - Intimidation. A reputation for violence and an aggressive demeanor help make others susceptible to her whims. Rolls whenever Prudence attempts to strongarm an individual. Successes means she gets what she wants, within reason. Failures typically means she gets what she deserves.
Master Of Arms [1] - Weapon knowledge. A military background has made Prudence better prepared when it comes to fighting with more than small blades. Rolls whenever Prudence picks up a new weapon. Successes knock the -2 Modifier of fighting with unfamiliar weapons down to a -1.
Just A Scratch [4] Toughness. Prudence can take some pretty meaty wallops before her body gives in. Rolls whenever Prudence attempts something that’d end up getting herself hurt. Success means she takes less harm. Doesn’t roll when someone attacks Prudence.
Soldier On [4] Athletics. Prudence doesn’t necessarily treat her body like a temple, but it seems to be carved out of similar materials. Rolls whenever Prudence attempts to use her speed or strength to accomplish something demanding.
Honor Is Dead [3] Sucker punch. The easiest fights to win are the ones where the other bastard doesn’t even know there is one. Rolls whenever Prudence initiates combat against an opponent. Successes deal significant harm.

Background:

Prudence deserted the Rigomar Merchant Navy two years ago. It occurred during yet another routine trade run for the Pricer Company, a “family-owned” company that held a monopoly on just about all of the spice that came from the Rigomar Islands. Roberto Pricer, eldest son of Wyland Pricer and heir to the company, happened to be on the ship. He also happened to be a total asshole, and after a heated argument with Prudence over this and that he also happened to be really good at getting stabbed about six or seven times in the chest. Prudence realized her defense of “he had it coming” wouldn’t save her from the firing squad, so she took a dinghy and rowed to the nearest town. From there she stowed away on a ship and ended up in Gullian.

Nearly delirious from dehydration and half-starved, the first door Prudence stumbled through on the docks was the Red Sail Brothel. Madame Fontaine gave her food and water and offered her a place to stay, and like a fool Prudence thought this was some kind of altruism. It was only a few weeks later when Prudence had regained her full strength that the Madame hit her with the bill. Without any money she had no hope of repaying Fontaine , so her debtor proposed another deal. Prudence vehemently disagreed at first, thinking that Fontaine was talking about her becoming a whore, but Fontaine laughed her off. She didn’t need a whore; she needed an enforcer. Fontaine had recognized Prudence’s jacket as being Merchant Navy, and she figured having a professional soldier on her side might give her the leg up on her peers. In return for free room and board, plus a little spending dough, Prudence just did whatever Fontaine ordered her to do. In a way, it was no different than the military. It wasn’t an awful option for it being the only one. Prudence took it.

The last two years have been pretty good for Prudence and Madame Fontaine. Prudence has grown fiercely loyal to the Madame, and Fontaine sees to covering for Prudence when her impulsiveness draws the wrong kind of attention. As well as doing dirty work for Fontaine and extending her influence outside of the Brothel, Prudence regularly assists in security at the Brothel and holds the same protective stance like her boss has towards the other girls. Fontaine might be the one who marks those who would harm her girls, but Prudence is the one who holds them down.

Personal Effects:

-Hooded jacket. Quite worn, but made of hard leather so if offers some protection.
-Set of clothes. Decent quality, nothing exciting.
-A dagger. Standard iron, well used.
-Blackjack/sap. Fontaine doesn’t always want bloodshed.
-Utility belt. Scabbards for her dagger and a pouch for coins and small items.
-Silk scarf. Green. A gift that holds some sentimental value. Worn over her belt.

~ Winds Of Fate - A Thief's Adventure ~ (1.0)

@ArkitektThis looks cool. I like the idea of using the dice to help make our characters a bit more bumbling, but I do have a question about success rolls. Let's say we're trying to pick a lock. It passes with 2 successes on a 3d2, someone opens the door and knocks us out with 0 successes, but would it succeed with just one success? Maybe with a complication, like it's noisier than intended, or the pick breaks?

Vivid Recollections Season 2: Into The False Light [COMPLETE]

---

_{@Ruler Inc@Ciaran}
Grand Ridge Academy

---

Penny nodded in approval as Britney joined her group. Her old petty feelings towards the other girl, spawned originally from approval-seeking jealousy before morphing into outright contempt, weren’t completely squashed, but Penny was willing to play along—and she was glad Britney was too. She showed a more warm reaction when Lynette and Paige made their way to her group, too. It was nice to have some people that were more than tolerable.

"I wanna say for the record that before I got this thing-" she said, gesturing with her head towards her prosthesis "-I was pretty fuckin' good at dodgeball, so speak for yourself."

“I’d still pick you over most of these bitches, anyway,” said Penny with a smile as Britney gave the group the spiel on telepathic communication, something her and Billy had already dug into. In fact, she would’ve sent him with the other group if she hadn’t promised Rita she’d watch him. Penny tapped her sigil. “Hell, I might actually be good at the game now thanks to this stupid thing. Maybe once all of this is done we could set up a little friendly. More than a few of us deserve a red ball being blasted in their face.”

The comment wasn’t necessarily directed at Sharon, but it did land right as she forced her way into their group. Penny bit her lip. The girl was volatile, but considering how poorly bugs would fair in the snowstorm it would’ve been downright unfair to send her over to Justin. After Britney already welcomed Sharon into the gang, Penny nodded in affirmation. She did a quick once over of the two groups; it wasn’t too hateful of a split, which meant it was time to go. She whirled her finger in the air and started towards the door.

“Remember Justin, we’re back here in two hours,” she called over her shoulder. “Don’t do anything too stupid without me.”

---

_{@Ruler Inc@Fernstone}
Library

---

Rita thought she had hated Texas. It was all trucks and cowboy boots and toxic masculinity. In her book, it was the absolute worst. Turns out she was wrong. It was the second worst—Montana was the absolute, ultimate, undeniable worst. It had all the bad parts of Texas, plus a world-ending matter eater, a cult from another dimension, and this fucking cold. Rita buried herself in her coat and clung to Tuyen like the girl’s shadow. Fortunately, she avoided witnessing most of the dead because she was acquantainting the front of her face with the back of Tuyen’s coat to avoid the wind.

The group stopped in front of the library, stuck as they waited for Justin’s fire to melt the barrier. Rita couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t been using the fire to keep them warm this whole time as she tried to ignore the body in front of the door. Death was becoming quite the usual sight, but Rita felt like she’d never be comfortable with seeing it. A cackle tickled her ear. Rita whipped around and got a full blast of ice cold wind in her face and not much else.

"Perhaps something was supposed to be kept in there...."

“Just books. Hopefully,” said Rita, rubbing her hands to stay warm. Maybe we can burn the magazine section for heat. I don’t think we’d need Ten Tips To Get A Guy during the end of the world.

---

_{@Ruler Inc@Ciaran}
Town Hall

---

Boy, this cold really sucked. Billy usually enjoyed the cold, but that was when he was in his jams, under a blanket, and drinking some cocoa. Trenching through some heavy snow and wind with a borrowed jacket was an absolute nightmare. Why couldn’t they have let him stay back at the school? He could’ve done some recon of the other rooms, scavenge up some food, maybe find a little weed to take the edge from nearly over it right on back down to moderate. It wasn’t like he would be much of a hand anyway. He couldn’t fight. He couldn’t use those magical powers. And he didn’t even really know what they were going after. There was only one good thing about being out here right now, and that was that nobody could hear Billy bitching about why they got the far building.

Well, almost nobody. Penny gritted a cigarette that would no longer burn—after an ordeal of getting it nestled through a scarf and hooked up with a lighter, the burning cherry decided to elope with the wind—between her teeth as she tried to find a way to make Billy’s telepathic complaints go to voicemail. She made a mental note to hit Britney later for reminding him of their connection. Maybe she’d just push her into the snow now and get it over with, but it wouldn’t have the same effect since they already were all wet, cold, and miserable. Why didn’t any of them have those nifty portals?

Penny led the group through the snow, but she lagged every once in a while to walk alongside Paige and make sure that the other girl was keeping up. She didn’t want to seem doting, hell, she bet Paige would hate it if she did, but she was afraid of what might happen if anyone fell behind. So she’d drop back for a moment, try and yell something over the wind, and bounce back up to the front. It was during one of these check-ups that Penny caught sight of Lynette stumbling. She rushed forward to help her up, but any words of encouragement or appreciation were cut out by the wind and Billy’s goddamn mental bitching. She had just enough of it and was about to pelt him in the face with an abstraction-enhanced snowball when the stream of consciousness fell silent.

It was for a good reason.

Penny and Billy scanned the carnage of what remained outside of the town hall, the scene like one of those artistic renderings of how things would be after the rapture. For Billy, it was all the more reason to go “fuck this” and get the hell out of town as soon as the snow lifted. However, to Penny it was all the more reason to stay. Her face was set in stone as she walked through the death. She recognized faces on both sides. She had figured a lot had happened while they were out, but she didn’t think it would be this catastrophic. Even if they beat the Glutton, people didn’t bounce back from things like this.

Shit, she thought, pulling down her scarf as the wind died and they could finally hear each other. Britney pointed out how the Corrupted might hold the town hall already, and judging by the scene outside she was probably right—those bodies didn’t crucify themselves. Sharon suggested burning the place down and, while tempting, it wasn’t what they were here to do. Penny lit a new cigarette, praying that the wind wouldn’t kick back in, as Britney and the others turned to her to listen for an idea. Penny cocked her head in thought for a moment. If she screwed this up, everybody could get killed. No pressure, right?

“We know what we came for. Now we just gotta get it and get out. I think Britney’s right about there being a bunch of assholes holed up in there, so we’re gonna stick together so they can’t pick us off. I don’t actually know where the archives are,” Penny glanced over at Britney, “but my guess is they’d probably be ground floor or the basement. I’ll take point. Paige, I’d like you up front with me. Lynette, you should hang in the back with Britney. If things get messy, she can buy you enough time to do some of that graffiti of yours.” She pointed at Billy and Sharon. “You two stick in the middle. You’re on shouting duty. You see anything, anything, besides us move in there and you let us know.”

“Okay,” said Penny with a sigh as she exhaled a cloud of smoke. She put her hand on the door, ready to open it and push forward as soon as the group was situated. “Something has to fucking go right for us at least once, yeah? Let’s go.”

Vivid Recollections Season 2: Into The False Light [COMPLETE]

Crafting up a post. ETA tomorrow? Sunday?

Anomalous

@ArtifexThis seems cool. Currently screwing around with a CS, but I got a question before I completely nail down the concept. It was mentioned that Variants used to be in M.A.D. until a recent incident. How recent is recent, and—if it isn't completely covered up and confidential—what happened? Likewise, current NOVA/M.A.D. agents are non-playable, but would former ones still be on the table?