|
>>
|
d97a61.jpg
Renegade Iris Belle
d97a61
>[Iosef has been queued to do the following:]
>During shooting practice suddenly feel uncomfortable being alone at the gun range. Have poor performance due to distraction.
>Decide to cut the practice short due to rising stress and find a place with other people around. [45 minutes instead of 1.5 hour training]
>Start seriously contemplating about this situation in the afternoon and the evening. Ask around among Russians. Learn more from Matvey about Armas' shadow: specifically, that it's as much a member of the company as the Boss. Mull this over.
>In the end, after reflecting on how helpful the Shadow has been as well as getting information from fellow comrades, decide that even if it is a living embodiment of his fear Armas' shadow is pretty cool dude. Alcohol may or may not have been involved with this decision.
>Swaging equipment, reloading press and dies delivered. Get back to Vlad-begin working on room arrangement. Come up with a solution that seems workable to both of you.
>Pick up Bluray player from store.
>[Lyubov has been queued to do the following:]
-Pick a nice chambric women's casual suit as the basis for her armored outfit, with trenchcoat. Be sad when trenchcoat isn't all that long.
*Wake up at 4:30 a.m. Realize by 4:45 a.m. that sleep will not come again today. Eat an apple, browse computer for news about herself on a whim. Find out not only did Chugainov have them declared dead, but also declared as traitors, complete with attempts to extort 'compensation' from family while slandering them.
*Cry a little for putting her mother through thinking her daughter is dead. Get good and angry at the rest of what she learns, smoke a cigarette, stalk around the house in her pajamas with a palpable bad mood.
*Bump into Boss, decide to distract herself by asking, "Did you read that book in your room?" referring to the Communication for Couples book she put in there last week, completely oblivious about the pop-up book. Be baffled by the Boss' weird responses about vomiting lava, and his questions about what volatile chemicals are preferable to excrete. Change subject, ask Boss flat out, "Why is Amen hiding the swimming pool?" Be told that the pool must be earned. Wonder what's up with that.
*Check the camera she lent Zhenya yesterday, be baffled by it being blank. Wonder aloud why today is starting off so badly. Then wonder why saying this in Zhenya's presence seemed to make her rather sad.
*Write a note to Andrei asking for an update on where he is with the hacking project (hack the TUIK death record database, and change the biomertric data if it exists), mention that she'll get him the last of the names today, stuff it under his door. Find out computers are up.
*Get ready to go on jog with Camella, think about problem. Talk to Camella before jog about problem, explain issue in detail (including conclusion it's an obvious trap), and nascent plan to move messages and money through the Orthodox Church. Ask for input, ideas. Don't cry. Go on jog, cleanup and rest afterward again. End up crying anyway-but hey, wheezing and sweating from exhaustion can cover that up.
*Get dressed in something low key, find Zhenya and ask what she did. Don't be angry, just mildly confused about what the problem was. Assign her a new task: "Find some notaries who can be bribed to rubberstamp forms for us, so we can get official replacement birth certificates for the identities. Ask for help if you need it, I'll have my phone."
*Find out which cemeteries she hit, and avoid them entirely. Pick different ones (hour+ bus travel). Follow same plan as before, with the addition to her lie if questioned: Her Boss is a surrealist artist who is coming up with something new, and isn't ready to discuss it yet. He uses an orange color instead of a name, like that one American who was a symbol. Acquire seven new boy's names.
*Speak Russian. Call Andrei up on satellite phone, give him the names and let him finish researching them to be sure they're clean. Ride home on bus. Hope the hack goes well.
*Check in on Zhenya during bus ride. If she's having problems, give her suggestions: "Try researching the public records for ones who let their licenses lapse for a short period, then renewed at the start of the month. They are probably people who are having money issues. Find at least three please."
*Have moment of inspiration on bus ride home about vampire fight last night. Realize the vampire could, somehow, read her intentions. Realize the Boss does the same thing. Wonder what he is.
*Go home, find Sake napping, decide that seems like a swell idea. Attempt to claim weasel as belly warming agent for napping purposes. Succeed.
*Wake up, find Sake gone. Research church. Learn about the 1955 Pogrom, be angered for the second time today. Smoke another cigarette. Think about things and realize that the sole remaining Orthodox Church in the city must have a protector of some sort. Wonder if that's the Inquisitor everyone ran into at the Warehouse with the Mafia.
*Go to Church for evening vespers, donate $400. Make sure to linger for a little while longer than normal for emotional comfort. Go home. More research on the church, try to figure out who exactly she will need to talk to, guess what questions they will ask.
*Try being "unintentioned" during the night lessons against vampire foes. Talk to Camella about it afterwards. Be uncertain if this was successful in any way.
>[Andrei has been queued to do the following:]
>Wake up. Find entity 'Amen' asking what clothing he wants suggestions for clothing. Don't freak out. Don't freak out! Grab a labtop - if they're being used, get it anyway. Order nerdy hipster shirts.
>Initially when queuried, begin to agree with whatever Amen thinks is good. Quickly correct self by saying gray slacks and white shirts. Hope this doesn't bite later.
>Ponder that not every one of the Russians has a laptop. Correct this, after talking to Satai. If Satai doesn't want to correct, buy them anyway. (13 laptops - one for every russian who doesn't have one, minus one for Igor who will break it. Price: $702
>Andrei does not wonder where get a proper reader. He has one, right next to his old computer. In Russia. FUCK! Grumble bitch, get on computer. Wait. Check to make sure the Crazy Castle doesn't have one. Find Amen to make sure. Sadly none are to be found. Pay used tech shop tech to get an 8" reader for $25 dollars. Continue bitching in Russian about the Russian military and being caught, even while spending a further $68 to acquire a Laserdisc player.
>>While on computer, look into that thing that Lyubov wanted. First, double check all the names as well as Andrei can. Grumble about putting off plan to crack into NSA, but shrug. Look up and check for criminal records, news records, and tax records of all the names Lyubov has given. Find red flags in too many places for two of the male names for them to be realistically rendered 'safe'. Verify that these were unremarkable individuals that were not photographed often, lack outstanding warrants, and were referenced in tax documentation. Find that one female name and three males have potentially overly sporadic tax records-they'd need to be shored up or their users would have to be prepared for a potential audit. Mull this over.
> Plan to hack the Turkish Statistical Institute death record database, and change the biomertric data if it exists. Pride dictates that the TUIK will be a job forgoing onsite assistance, so the goal is to just ping vulnerable ports and unpeel it like an onion. Be a bit sad that it really is that easy. Wonder if moviehacking will ever be for you.
>> Use identity information that was in the wallets to match up cards to names. Using precautions like proxies, check if cards are still active with small purchases. Siphon money off the active ones.
>ANDREI: +$12,100 BONUS
>Become somehwat alarmed when only making the connection after the fact that one of the cards was with Oyak Securities. Discontinue theft attempts to reappraise if it's really worthwhile to mess with one's own bank.
>While busy, look into Nazi computers. If encrypted or password protected, be careful and go slow. Look for work arounds and known vulnerabilities on the Nazi computers, that's the easy way. If Andrei can't find any vulnerability, then code breaking those passwords. Check the contents of the wallets again, check the credit and debit cards for personal info, try combinations of important dates to Nazis, that kind of thing. If THAT doesn't work, brute force encryption breaking.
>Take a breather. Wear camera-helmet. Check to see the video feed and how good the packet loss and what not is. Find it reasonable enough. Continue to wear camera-helmet while going outside. When outside, lie about its use. Something about being for a reality TV programming or his own vblog. See what funny antics people will do because Camera-Helmet. Realize swiftly it makes for easy future blackmail of those that are encountered drunk, and gravitate towards bars.
>After returning home from social networking, social hacking, hacking, shooting and filming to check the film on the computer. Find film somewhat patch, and find shake of helmet cam more than a bit distraction, even given the medium. Share amusing video of drunks being drunks with other Russians. While on the computer, remember that odd presence watching Caffeine. Ask Satai or Boris about using the cameras to check out the kitchen. Then realize you're the one that manages the cameras anyway and just do it.
[Ivan has been queued to do the following:]
*Suggest that the entity Amen model armored clothing That's mostly a double breasted vaguely military suit.
*Purchase a nice hat and shoes to go with the overcoat. Spend $325
*Purchase a new pocket watch Spend $130
*Practice stealthfully navigating the mansion, attempting to avoid other occupants for at least one hour per day. Do rather poorly, but stoically, stonily carry on.
*Spend extra time attending night training sessions at Ito's Dojo. (Pay increased to $225/wk, current maximum)
*Make a request to Satai to be issued an L129A1 Sharpshooter and a HK45.
*Spend two hours daily practicing shooting with both guns.
*Join in with the melee training session group with Andrei and Boris. Personally enjoy but do not outwardly flaunt satisfaction at being noticably superior in unarmed prowess to each companion. Wisely do not listen to rash voice that suggests sparring with Lev, Vlad, Dmitrii, Iosef or even worse Gloom. Quest; Avoid making fool of self: Success!
*Spend some time simply politely observing what the other guys do, particularly boss' weasel, attempt to glean information where possible. Readily observe bossweasel to be entranced with prank calls, spending at least two hours a night at it. Also notice weasel is proportionately the next heaviest drinker after the one that calls himself Duke. Idly wish to have such an easy camraderie with the man as Vlad.
>[Igor has been queued to do the following:]
>Successfully complete all blast plates to personal standards reasonably swiftly. Be confident this will be a solid 'so there' moment with Satai. Be disenchanted by Satai's apathy, fail to capitalize on chance. Mutter while wandering away.
>Head to Bazaar, looking around the various metal smiths. Even if he can't convince them to mentor him immediately, it should not hurt to just make our presence known, as well as observe them. Begin to doubt this after no less than four different smiths run him off for simply standing and staring. Try and see if any of them stand out to you, either in the quality of their product on in their personality. One of the ones that shouted for him to leave, specifically a knife-specialist smith that pantomimed raising a blade, and one of the less prickly smiths that worked in gold each seemed to have such a lazy grace and economy to their motion to make anyone confident they know their craft well. Stay aware that less than a quarter of the smiths have yet been seen.
[Satai has been queued to do the following:]
$-Arrange meeting with Old Ironhead for Armas when requested.
$-As it is now apparent that Armas wants to move the entire company + lots of heavy hardware on short notice whenever he pleases, acquire three more largely nondescript vans. Estimate cost at $24,000. Be pleased when the man you bought the last van from directs you to someone that sells you a trio for $20,000 flat. Don't be particularly concerned, as the man does swear to the barrel you have Dmitrii put to his head that they were not involved in any kidnappings, major drug trafficking, acts arsons or murder. Find this acceptable, conclude deal. Find estimation of man's pseudo-thuggish demeanor accurate-he knocks an additional thousand dollars off, and seems to now greatly respect you. Assume he may believe you professional killers. Be amused at so right and wrong he is.
$-When Igor's quality backing plates are completed, break into our C4 stash and spend some time turning them into actual, usable shaped charges. Be surprised at the smoothness of the parabolic interior of the plates, and estimate they will do an admirable job focusing a blast into a wide cone.
$-Ask Hillevi if she does any kind of long-range combat or would like to practice it. Be informed she likes to build javelin of ice and hurl them at foes. Demonstrates by skewering a stone wall without much effort. Mention that she can feel free to come to sniping practice whenever if she wants; it's every day. Blasting things at long range with magic can't be that different from blasting them with a rifle, although Satai would issue her a rifle if she wanted one. Or goggles with magnification, if they'd help. Actually if she wants pretty much anything as far as military supplies go she can ask him for it. Find Hillevi highly receptive to the concept of learning to perform long-range, pinpoint spear-chucking.
$-Double-check outfitting before the Doonongaes mission; make sure that everyone has the equipment they'll need and nothing is likely to malfunction. Persuade/dragoon a couple other people into helping with this (Titus, Dmitrii, Iosef, Vlad, and Zhenya are likely prospects due to personality and/or past relations). Succeed too well, and get everyone helping in the wake of the boss idly mentioning the job.
>388140
Stop.
Brain Coffee time.
Now then-
Eh, I've got time until the morning training. Enough, at least, to put to rest some vague assumptions I've built. I clear my throat, stretching as the Hummingbird flits back down from the windowsill to hover in place and watch me-while I have a little chat.
"Hey Amen, there's an actual binding added to your soul each time I give you a binding order, correct?"
I don't jump, for once, as Amen simply begins to exist beside me, mere inches from my face.
>[Amen]"Master is indeed correct."
"And each binding adds a pressure to your soul, correct?"
>[Amen]"Master has thus far accurately paraphrased the mechanics of the situation, yes."
"There's a limit to how many you can take, then?
>[Amen]"Oh, indeed there is a limit."
"What happens when you can't take any more bindings?"
>[Amen]"Let this one answer with a rhetorical-what happens if one squeezes grape too tightly?"
"That's... not good."
>[Amen]"It is dependent on one's viewpoint, this one would posit."
"Alright. You are to inform your master through the same method of communication aforementioned master most recently used with you when the pressure on your soul from your bindings changes due to a new binding or order, and to what degree the change has occured, using a linear system where the pressure from the order I gave you to ignore Savoy represents one point on the scale. You may not lie about a change in pressure."
The small secretive smile growing on its face fades as Amen briefly ponders this.
>[Amen]"This one would say more than one point, and less than two, have been gained from accepting this new order."
"Great. Now, truthfully, how many points do you estimate your capacity to be before you will be so tightly bound that you explode?"
>[Amen]"This one is not entirely sure there is a clear answer to this-the rate this one is used, what one does, how much one feeds, if the bindings are added evenly or in an asymmetrical binge-this one cannot truly answer."
"Huh. Ok, new topic. If seeing your soul would not warp my mind, subject me to memetic attacks, or otherwise cause harm that would take me more than a few minutes to recover if I were a complete mundane and had no outside help at all, show it to me."
Amen simply stands there, its smile returning. ...Well, that's an answer of a sort.
"Amen, why do my Russians' souls all remind me of overcooked hotdogs? To clarify, their souls feel like they are going to burst."
The smile thins.
>[Amen]"They are becoming oversaturated relative to their innate absorbent abilities and spiritual coherance. It is not that unlike bruising, only without a means to wait it out."
"Well that's alarming. What are the options for fixing this? I want my employees healthy, emotionally stable, happy, and to retain intact personalities and free will."
>[Amen]"Given such stringent requirements, this one has very little to offer. They could not ultimately be termed healthy if this one opened their chakras. They could lose their stability if altered to be capable to adapting themselves to externally absorbed foreign energy. They could lose what master refers to as 'happiness' if simply fleshcrafted into more resiliant and enduring forms. They would not retain their personality for the majority of what this one can offer. That said, the best this one can advocate within the guidelines is prioritizing their instruction in control of Chakra until they can readily internalize energy, and until then feeding them exclusively mundane foods."
"Thanks for the advice."
I look at the clock-Yeah, I can make it. I ring Gianni as I get dressed, and tell him I'm headed over shortly. I ignore him purring into the phone as I hang up, getting dressed in a genuine full cloth-of-gold suit, lapels so sharp a gnat could shave it's ass with them-and start heading out. I catch Camella and Lyubov heading out for a jog-and decide to skip alongside them with the aid of Shoddy step, off to a lesson while having a chat. Or at least, trying to.
"So Camella,"
>[Camella]"..."
"Hey, hello!"
Her Attention stays on me, but she continues to visibly ignore me.
"So, I'll bring lunch when I get back! And some thanks! And other stuff-probably not boring stuff though. And my bodacious self, heh. But seriously-I did want to talk with you."
I continue dodging those few feeble bits of Attention to be found in the early morning, smirking all the while, a bird perched on my shoulder.
"Now, I want to say thanks for that book. It's a really touching and funny gift. It's exactly what my descendants will need. My bloodlines practically demand to be used in experimental ways and I can't see my kids being any better at self-restraint than I am, unless their mom is some incredibly self-disciplined and patient woman... actually I guess she'd need to be, huh? Or a hellion. Anyway, I'm going to have to do something really nice for Einrik too. I was thinking something to do with helping him see text, he's got trouble with that. I'm just not too sure what, right now. I'll figure it out."
I note Lyubov stumbling mid-spiel, and ignore it. Camella, for her part, almost looks at me. Hey, progress!
"No I've got more, I'm not just here to talk books. Yesterday I noticed something during the fight. You developed a soul quirk, a really awesome one too."
That got her-she eyes me like an imperious hawk, looking stern and austere-even as her voices sounds quite a bit warmer than her demeanor would suggest.
>[Camella]"Short version's that I had a dream, was chasing something while I got chased-and realized both my pursuer and my prey were me. Woke up, and I could still see as well as I could in the dream."
She continues in silence for a few seconds before continuing.
>[Camella]"So how'd you notice that?"
I can tell she's watching for me to be crestfallen at the patently underwhelming storytelling. Fat chance of that.
"Oh. Well, yeah, I can see your soul. It's part of my bloodline ability. I can see most people's souls."
I ignore Lyubov tripping over the curb as she goggles at my idle comment.
>"It's like she doesn't get that I'm keeping an eye out for magic observers in the area, and you're watching for mundane, and we're actually not being as cavalier with our secrets as we appear."
Yeah. On that note.
" My shadow sees in just magic, or so he tells me, so I'm sure that he's seen it too."
At this a voice comes from the alleyway beside us-Shadowbro's, specifically, a gravelly whisper filled with ash and soot.
>"He has."
I nod at the alleyway as Lyubov finally seems to crest the hill of surrealism and just keeps trucking.
"And there's some confirmation for you. Actually, you've got enough magic energy in your body now that I bet he can see it. I haven't bothered asking, it didn't seem important since he can see with my eyes when he wants to. He's complained a couple of times about not being able to see mundane materials on his own. Kinda like Einrik now that I think about it. Anyway, that's way off topic."
My rambling and continued nonchalant Red Cap themed skipping continue to wear down her wariness, and my storytelling begins to take hold of her curiosity. Where AM I going with this, I bet she's dying to know.
"Your soul quirk. Right, first, a soul quirk is probably like a certain shape to a person's soul that gives them an ability to do something. Like, see, a normal person's soul is just a round ball, right? The ones I've seen are, anyway. Well the shape of the soul helps determine what it can do. Not just the shape, but... I guess the aesthetics of the soul? I can definitely see something like 'quality' I'd wager. Example:"
I idly motion at a portly man two blocks away.
"Pretty shitty soul. He's lived a dull, flat, boring life I'd say. You, though, your soul is painstakingly beautiful. It's a compact form of neat, densely layered experiences made smooth by self-discipline and... call it a sureness of self. Healthy, and whole, and full of vitality, that's you."
And it's true-with my soul sensing getting ever sharper, even if at a snail's pace, and this prolonged observation, I really am commenting on what I perceive. I also may have been spoiled with such an easy mark as Hillevi-but I miiiiight have seen a bit of color in her cheeks at that. Just as she opens her mouth, I continue.
"Hey, it's true. If you don't believe me you can ask Einrik. Anyway, the quirk is an added layer of complexity for you, sensor shapes on top of it that are like eyes. There's 108 of them, to be specific. Pretty sure that's magically significant, that."
Now it is Camella's turn to have her feet stutter on the ground, her hypnotizing rhythmic pace oh so briefly disturbed. I see the look of dawning comprehension on her eyes-but hell if I'm interrupting this gravyboat to ask right now.
>"Draconic magic does hold the number 108 in high regard."
"Oh, also way important in Draconic magic too, though I'm no expert in that. So, that's the thing I wanted to tell you, and congratulate you on. It's how you beat my Goblin Stealth. And as to Gyaketsuote, well, I suspect that I'd need another 54 people practiced in it to overwhelm you now. Or someone with a similar soul quirk focused entirely on you."
She furrows her brow at this.
>[Camella]"So if I can got all those eyes, I wonder... well, whatever. Go on, you've clearly got more to say."
Pssh, like she's not all ears at this point.
"I've been thinking, the past few weeks actually, how to help you be a little more durable. The sparring yesterday highlighted it; you're awesome, but against an asshole with magic like mine you're going to need some sort of magic yourself. Now, there's a couple of ways to do it. Short of building a bloodline in you, there's a couple of options. Chakra training is one, but it's slow. I've only made great gains in it because I'm a big fat cheater."
I have about half a second to recognize Camella's soul venting energy and sense the crystal clear, almost primally raw-feeling chakra she Reinforces herself with as she punches me in the arm.
And promptly BREAKS my arm. Which I completely ignore, not even bothering to heal it and keep speaking. Just because she's, ah, a wee bit better with Chakra than I thought doesn't mean my point isn't valid. I still have to listen to her snide little comment of:
>[Camella]"You cheat, and you're still like... well, you?"
I grin.
" I'm thinking of learning how to make NeverNever bubbles, but I suspect it's an expensive option. Still, it'd let you learn subjective years worth of training in a single real moment. There are charm arrays, like what Blackbeard uses. Or used, rather. I gave him a scare and shook up his faith in them. Turns out there's ways to slip around them, if you've got a mind like mine."
>[Camella]"So only psychopaths can disrupt it?"
Oh, that's how it is huh? Enjoy a little of this...
"If you've got to twist my arm.... Well, if you REALLY want to know I guess I could tell you. Just remember this is literally a multi-million dollar secret."
She did in fact pick up on my implying implications. Look at that. Scowl's back.
>[Camella]"Then keep it to yourself. I'd rather figure it out on my own-which shouldn't be that hard, given I know it exists."
That... that's....
>[Hummingbird]"Proof she's a superior giant to you."
Say what you will-cheaters DO prosper.
>[Hummingbird]"And the fact she matched your Overcharged output when tapping you?"
ANYway-
"If that's how you want to play it. So yeah, I figure most people can't use that trick. So charm arrays and other magic items remain an option, and there are probably ways to build them that remove that weakness. Another option I've found would be to get you a spirit animal. I spoke to Big Crazy about this awhile ago. He has two spirit animals, a sensor type and an endurance type, both bound directly to his flesh using a ritual method that he taught me. I didn't ever need to use it myself, but he was able to shrug off bullets and lift cars. And he had no chakra training to my knowledge, no bloodline that he ever exhibited. Just the spirit animals and his gun play. And because the spirit animals aren't corporeal, unlike a charm array they're not vulnerable to most sorts of attacks."
>[Camella]"Like your bird?"
I can see the tiny figure puffing out his chest to preen and flash plumage. I smile regardless of intent.
"No, what the hummingbird and I have is a little different. Hummingbird and I are bound together by a soul link that formed when I released him from his prison. The method Big Crazy taught me, which any mundane person can use, requires that you kill the animal's body in the process of binding its soul to your flesh."
>[Camella]"Not wholly appealing, but palatable. You're omitting something, aren't you."
"Did I mention you have to Duke it up to do this?"
Fown dimples. My god, that's amazing.
"Yes, I know. Unfortunately, short of some extreme measures involving meddling with your soul directly that I'm frankly not yet qualified to carry out, I don't know you could perform a binding that's less traumatic than that. I'm also not sure what your personal capacity for spirit animal bindings would be. BC said most people only get one, and that he was unusual for having two. I do know that the sort of animal you pick, beyond its general orientation, matters. A sensor snake and a sensor hummingbird are going to be very different... I think. I've given it some thought and talked to Duke about it, and I think a honey badger may suit you very well. They're little destroyers, incredibly durable, they never give up, they fight animals many times their size, they shrug off wounds... well, you get the picture."
>[Camella]"Did you just call me small?"
Do NOT get drawn in!
"Think about it. Ask Duke what he thinks, he might have better suggestions about animals that would suit you. I'll help, when you're ready."
>[Camella]"You sound like you've got more."
"Ayup. There's one more thing I wanted to talk to you about. I talked to Go Ping and the others yesterday. We're ready for tomorrow morning to do the Dooney hit."
Lyubov loses her precarious sense of calm and nearly faceplants at that, no doubt recalling the threat assessment of the beast.
"Now, based on the intelligence reports the best time to set up all the prep work on the site is in the evening. I tasked Andrei and Satai to design a system for playing decoy sounds, to confuse the fucker when we fight him. They'll need to get it set up tonight. I've also got some inflatable pools, to hold water that can be turned into ice cover. I purchased 40 ice bullets in 7.62×54mmR from Johan, this fella who does special weapons. They're supposed to be ready this morning. The Triads are going to be bringing six magitech cold grenades. And there's all the normal fun stuff too, the explosives in the armory, the miniguns; hell I wouldn't mind breaking out the big stuff. Having a javelin on standby wouldn't be a bad idea."
>[Camella]"This sounds like a decidedly... American approach to battle."
"Well normally I'd agree that wasting a $40,000 javelin on a target we have bottled up is stupid, but I was at the Asitane last night with Gianni talking fleshcrafter stuff and Owner walked right up to our table and gave me some coordinates he implied were related to this. My guess is it's got something to do with the Dooney's master, instead of Dooney himself, since Owner said he wanted to talk about it after the fight sometime. I looked them up, it's an island in the middle of the Caspian Sea. I'll show you; maybe we can put someone on it and see what we can learn. I'd like to be prepared before I talk to Owner, show that I'm not totally irresponsible."
She smiles.
>[Camella]"You didn't make a fool of yourself in front of him? How precious. But are you just reporting this to your second, or...?"
"Well of course, but to my credit, I did realize I needed you way before I got the date set for this. To be an officer for the company. Ahem. Look, can you organize everyone for this? Let them know, and brief them?"
>[Camella]"Sure, since Lyubov's obviously going to help me with that."
The still silent companion to our jaunt, growing increasingly winded, merely looks on.
"Yeah I want everyone, and I want anyone not manning an emplaced gun or one of the cameras-"
>[Camella]"Cameras?"
"Yes, cameras. I figure we've got a chance here to record the entire fight. We'll be able to go over it later and review for things we could have done better. And if it's really good, there are plenty of supernaturals who would pay to watch Dooney die. Most of the community hates that guy."
>[Camella]"That's.... rather morbid but I can't specifically say it's wrong, all things being equal. Backtracking here, give me Johan's address and number."
I provide them as she simply nods at me to go on.
"Anyway, as I was saying, I want the ones who aren't occupied otherwise to be carrying weapons with wooden stocks, if possible. I know it sounds weird, but the last time I fought Dooney, I had a pair of weapons turn magical on me. The stress of the situation, and the magical saturation, and the weapons having so much natural material all helped. Their roles are to provide support, not directly engage, but I'll buy poison resistance potions for them anyway. Rather not lose anyone. Oh, and Long Wang gave me this tip: The Dooney has a wound on his back, off to the right from his spinal column, whenever he shifts into a form with a pelvis."
>[Camella]"Down low?"
"You know it."
I glance at my watch-and sigh.
"Well, I've got places to be-enjoy your run."
Camella almost says something to me, but instead simply nods her head and keeps going as I veer off, slowing back down to a normal pace as I walk the last four blocks to the meet with Gianni. Now..... what am I going to have him teach me...
>>387853
>>387990
>>388027
>>388153
>>388157
Epithelial manipulation. Even putting aside the potential gains from manual glandular command, the constant considerations of the poisonous doonongaes keep me well aware such a focus could be rather... varied. When I tell Gianni, he doesn't seem that surprised-
Then proceeds to touch me. It was a good touch.
He took command of my adrenal glands and gave me a first-hand experience of what control means. He shows me how the right chemical balance can create any result a sufficiently skilled user can want. He even goes on to say sufficiently precise control allows one to 'correct' for their own tendencies-a curious parallel to soul sculpting, the act of chemically shackling oneself to prevent disadvantageous known personal traits from being an issue. Just as I wallowing in the thought of having a Soul Guise, a fleshcrafted appearance and a way to force myself to eschew my own tendency to distraction, Gianni genuinely surprises me: He cautions me as he continues to milk my adrenals, the steady throb of shifting focus heady, intoxicating.
>[GiaGia]"Well gosling, this one must confess so many things can go wrong with this approach that really it couldn't be advised. The soul is, after all, linked to the body-which is itself the host of the remaining two thirds of the personal triumvirate. Having Body alter Mind is... doable, certainly, but the problem lies in what repeat use does to the soul-it's not so pretty. I'm not refusing to teach you about it-once you know enough you could do it, at least-but I do have to be clear on this: if you cannot tread carefully, this path is not well suited to you."
I muse upon the seemingly out-of-character warning-and press on with the lesson. Seems that after he's flooded, then flushed, flooded, then flushed my system with adrenaline again and again, he directs me to take the helm. I've felt the foreign magic working on me-I witnessed the shape of the Flesh magic, when it was shoved in my flesh. So it is with not even a hint of trepidation I... sidle back into a haze of focus, energy and distorted thought. From the adrenal, we go to a real treat: the liver. I get to really feel that which handles my booze... and I make some personal plans even as the lesson rambles past blood filtering by dint of glandular control. To complement on-command Adrenaline and a newly manual liver complete with overdrive, Ginna next traipses his lessons through me to my neck to focus on my spine even while staying attentive to my torso: specifically, to show me how the parathyroid and the kidneys can work in concert for rather impressive internal filtering. Coupling this with the liver, I abruptly feel far, far more confident about facing poisons... other than the Doonongaes', at least. Finally, he moves on to my bones-specifically, my bone marrow, wrapping up the personal resilience tolerance with the revelation that there's some distinction in the adrenal gland that I hadn't previously detected-
Gianni ends the lesson with my homework being to figure out what that difference is, and get to the point I can recognize the difference between my attempts to manipulate adrenal, liver, kidney, parathyroid and bone marrow, from his. Obviously there's a difference, but he's adamant I need to be able to define it.... which I don't have a snappy come back to, what with the complete lack of such an ability. Homework, fun.
Armas has learned how to manually begin flooding his system with adrenaline, with all that this entails
Armas has learned how to manually choose what particular toxins are filtered when by his liver, and how to metabolize more quickly.
Armas has learned how to manually ply his kidneys and parathyroid towards gaining heightened internal filtering ability.
Armas has learned how to manually ply his bone marrow to slowly thin or thicken his blood with red blood cells.
...Yeah, I see why he said you could learn more initially about Epithelial than Nervous. Sure there's supposed to be a bigger payoff in the endgame with Nervous, but.... this is a lot to play with. We part ways as noon rolls around, the bird seated atop my golden tie content to snooze for the first time I've seen.
>>388171
As ever happy my soul guise is now readily perceptible to my senses, I verify my default's running smoothly and head back to the house. I ignore the incredulous looks a few throw my way, asking Satai to go ahead and schedule that meeting for today with Old Ironhead. Be surprised when Satai is able to confirm a meeting for this afternoon before I even make it to the kitchen.
"...So, when you say this afternoon-"
>[Satai]"He's inviting you to join him for lunch."
Steady...
"Where at?"
>[Satai]"The Pitstop to Valhalla."
No shit... can't question his taste.
"Tell him I'll be there in half an hour."
The best part is having the Pitstop be on the opposite side of Johan's shop relative to the mansion. I pick up my bullets, and slot them in the magic over-sized 40 round magazine for the AVT-40, the gun itself obviously absent. I shake hands with the craftsman and head on, having spent all of two minutes in his shop. I make it to the Pitstop, that familiar belligerantly resilient yet perpetually ramshackle tavern and take a seat across from the only interesting soul I see outside-who happens to look patently swedish.
I smile.
"So, we have-"
The man flies into a passionate spurt of bluster, plowing headfirst through my attempt to speak.
>[OI]"Alright so here's the deal: big name's off the market. You damn well know who. Now, certain slant-eyes are looking to muscle in. I say fuck them. I say that when a certain trader left, he left a great deal of wares. I say that I want those wares-and I say-"
>[MM,MMMMM[/code] Trait auto-activated]
Two can play the interrupting game motherfucker!
"That you want what certain-"
He merely gets louder.
>[OI]"WHAT? Anyway, I want what our local enforcers that dress in uniform. So-"
Oh it's on.
"SO HOW much is the questio-"
>[OI]"I WANT IT ALL, AND I WANT IT... AS SOON AS I CAN GET IT."
We're practically shouting now, and both starting to rise.
"HOW MUCH?"
>[OI]"THIRD OF MARKET PRICE, PERMANENT DISCOUNT."
"HOW MUCH?"
>[OI]"A TENTH."
"A THIRD."
>[OI]"FUCK YOU MONGREL, EIGHTH."
>[WTN Trait activated and advances to Level four trait, JUST WON'T TAKE NO, ]
"TWO SIXTHS."
>[OI]"THINK I CAN'T DO MATH FUCKHEAD ONE SIXTH."
"TWO SEVENTHS"
>[OI]"QUARTER./b]"
He's stopped that manic shout-grinning he'd been doing-and I take that as my cue to take the deal.
"[b]TIMEFRAME?"
"THIS WEEK."
>[OI]"EXPRESS FEE-"
"FREE TANK."
I can't even resist.
I falter in the shouting match that the customers continue to completely ignore-and find my hand being shaken.
>[OI]"SHIT BASTARD HAS A DEAL."
He finally stops shouting, and returns to his admittedly vocal self.
>[OI]"...Heh. Alright, but seriously get out of here, you're like this close to pissing me off, funny bullshit or no."
Why ruin a good run? I bow out, simple as that.
A third the market price for all that's in the lockers, someone ELSE to deal with selling all that shit, a sizable discount and a tank.
>"You are a child... yet I can't really put much.. fire into my complaints this time. Curious."
Obviously because shadow or no you still love tanks.
On the way back from THAT, I stop in a manhole, and have a chat with SM. after eventually haggling my ass into giving up Four blade charms and one arrow charm to get a grand total of 24 people's worth of half-day long complete Doony poison immunity. Now, we only have to worry about the monstrous strength and claws and shape shifting and... still, one less thing to worry about. And this time, I get a carrying case. No breakages this time, nu-uh!
I return back home, this time finding the Russians far less agog-and asking questions about tomorrow's target. I give them a rough play by play of my prior two experiences, focusing just on actual observations, coupled with my own thoughts. Camella must have done a good job talking to them, because they seem far more receptive and placated by my brief blurb than they really should be. Score one for the team. With the lot of them now thoroughly trapped in arguing over potential alternative conclusions to what the Doony's like, I slip away to the kitchen, shadow Boris for a half hour as I eat a half dozen plates without ever leaving the room, then head upstairs to read that popup book.
...I'm not sure what to make of the fact it's five hundred and eleven pages of a tiny eyepatch sporting caricature that looks vaguely like me suffering various mishaps. There's examples from every school of magic, and each one looks mundanely fatal. ...I read it eight times, belly laughing the whole time, before turning in early.
SUNDAY, JANUARY 23RD, 2011
PERSONAL FUNDS: $321,013.11
BUSINESS FUNDS: $189,347.00
CASH: $9,170.00
SHADOW PATIENCE: 44%
[small]WINTER ENERGY: 121/160
SUMMER ENERGY: 50/50
I wake up so chipper I could sour the sun's dazzling smile with envy. It's not hard at all for me to wake up well before dawn, finding the Russians far more easily roused than normal. I should be a bit miffed my meeting with my brothers wasn't all that productive-though I'm wholly occupied with feeling like I came from a comedy marathon, given we spent the night joking so much I heartily enjoyed myself.
So.
Three twenty five, and the last of the Russians have finished waking up and getting dressed. Camella's present, Hillevi and Einrik are both present and accounted for, and Duke's thoroughly not giving a fuck while stroking Sake, with the Hummingbird watching over us all like a diminutive yet unfathomably stern shepard.
So, what's the loadout we're taking on this?
And more importantly-what's the nitty-gritty of the plan?
Assuming it doesn't take all day-what else do I plan to occupy myself with today?
|