log6

When the lot of you return to the base, you’re expecting a hero’s welcome, but instead, all you see is scattered clusters of mooks, in much smaller quantities than you remember from this morning, looking even more battered and beaten-down than usual. As you make your way through the hollow halls, your presence is barely registered through halfhearted sideward glances, and your bubble of pride is pierced by the wails and screams of the injured and dying. The line to the infirmary has spilled out into the hallway, wraps around the corner, and goes down several flights of stairs. Every now and again, some desperate ruffian tries to cut in line, but is immediately beaten back into place by his peers.
[8/14/2013 8:27:46 AM] Scurvyj: #002, the Chief Medical Officer, a liver-spotted barrel of a woman with arms that can tear a man in half and a face that even her mother (may she rest in peace) couldn’t love, has a cigarette clamped in her mouth at all times, and you can see her smoke cloud puffing hither and thither as she applies her savage brand of cut-rate medicine to the injured. Since most of her staff was accidentally sent to the front lines (thanks, Dispatch), and almost none of them made it back, the first lot of mooks to make it to her office found themselves “promoted” to medics. Though some of them barely know how to use a band-aid, #002 bullies them through their first day on the job, punishing every mistake with an acid tongue and a surprisingly swift backhand slap.
[8/14/2013 8:30:48 AM] Scurvyj: The five of you are somewhere in that nebula of human wreckage, #087 laid up in a shopping cart that you guys stole from the parking lot of SaveCo, #098 with his face wrapped in bloody bandages, newspaper, and toilet paper (you guys started running out of absorbent stuff), the other three of you bored out of your mind. Maybe you’re doing Sudoku puzzles or counting the linoleum squares, I dunno
[8/14/2013 8:31:36 AM] Scurvyj: #003 was called away to do commanding officer stuff, so for now, you’re off the leash (except for the thousands of surveillance cameras scattered throughout the compound, but you know)
[8/14/2013 8:33:05 AM] Scurvyj: [It’s still open RP time, I just figured I’d give you guys a venue change.]
[8/14/2013 8:38:22 AM] Scurvyj: [Oh yeah, Fox, I updated your picture based on what you gave me. http://www.obsidianportal.com/campaigns/mook-to-mastermind/characters/num087 ]
[8/14/2013 8:38:54 AM] O’ Foxy: (I’m real happy to hear that)
[8/14/2013 8:40:30 AM] O’ Foxy: (best two minute job I’ve done yet)
[8/14/2013 8:41:08 AM] Scurvyj: #087, you finally regain consciousness, and the horrible, screaming agony you feel makes you wish you hadn’t
[8/14/2013 8:41:56 AM] Scurvyj: [Oh, you know what, I’ll let Al run #963 for now, since #098 is probably in need of a blood transfusion and lord knows what else if he’s to pull through.]
[8/14/2013 8:43:01 AM] Scurvyj: #963 walks up, ignoring the angry glares and curses that people send his way. Once they realize that he’s not actually injured and is just a hanger-on, they go back to doing what they were doing.
[8/14/2013 8:57:17 AM] DrRobertson: [ #002, for reference: http://www.digitalmediafx.com/Monsters/Gallery/Roz01..jpg ]
[8/14/2013 8:59:47 AM] DrRobertson: #347 leans against the wall, reading over one of his sacred tomes that he keeps dear to his heart(it’s a pocket book of works by T. S. Eliot, as he assumes, given his current state of employment, to go out with not a bang, but a whimper), all the while drawing glances from the nearby mooks, still in awe he’s able to read words.
[8/14/2013 9:24:36 AM] Scurvyj: [I suppose if we continued to follow the Girl-Chan in Paradise theme, #347 might look something like this: http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100613154304/girlchan/images/9/96/612px-Kotamaru.jpg ]
[8/14/2013 9:25:31 AM] DrRobertson: HAHAH
[8/14/2013 9:25:42 AM] DrRobertson: [I didn’t even put it in brackets!]
[8/14/2013 9:25:45 AM] Scurvyj: [Looks like you haven’t! Been training…]
[8/14/2013 9:26:13 AM] Scurvyj: [It’d be better if I could find the one where he has a gun. “I DON’T CARE, OKAY? I’M ALREADY OUT OF BULLETS!”]
[8/14/2013 9:27:07 AM] DrRobertson: [I think it’s rather fitting. Part of the problem is that #347 is obviously fairly intellectual, and he feels it’s being squandered. He’s also rather lazy on most parts, and has been stated hates doing menial tasks.]
[8/14/2013 9:27:40 AM] Scurvyj: [Why do I see this game turning into a giant allegory for the Recession?]
[8/14/2013 9:28:03 AM] Scurvyj: [Oh, right. Because that was one of the ideas I had going in. Silly me!]
[8/14/2013 9:28:12 AM] DrRobertson: [I’ve certainly helped steer it that way.]
[8/14/2013 9:29:31 AM] Scurvyj: [For sure. We’ve all done our part, which is what makes the most fun games.]
[8/14/2013 9:33:31 AM] Scurvyj: [There you go. Merry Christmas! http://www.obsidianportal.com/campaigns/mook-to-mastermind/characters/num347 ]
[8/14/2013 9:33:56 AM] DrRobertson: [Well thanks!]
[8/14/2013 9:35:32 AM] Scurvyj: [Are you going to repay me by giving me a free meal?]
[8/14/2013 9:36:16 AM] DrRobertson: [Of course! I always buy the other person dinner before I fuck them.]
[8/14/2013 9:36:35 AM] Scurvyj: [Well then there’d better be some drinks involved.]
[8/14/2013 9:37:03 AM] Scurvyj: [And on that note, I should REALLY get my stuff done for work today. Father Procrastination has really taken a bat to my face this week. Later!]
[8/14/2013 2:44:43 PM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: [Shit. #98 has lost Mortal Kombat amounts of blood at this point.]
[8/14/2013 2:55:03 PM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: [Which is appropriate since he probabl looks about like this now ]
[8/14/2013 3:03:19 PM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: #963 wades through the masses, paying special attention to the makeshift beds his comrades from the last battle have been placed in until they can be attended to. He looks over #87's injuries before mumbling to himself. "Poor bastard may never go car surfing again." He then moves over to #98's bed and shakes his head slowly. "He was never really a looker before but holy hell..." He then notices that #98's arms and legs are free. "That's no good... I really hope they tie him down before he wakes up."
[8/14/2013 3:06:58 PM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: #963 backs away from the bed slowly. He gets a couple feet away before turning and heading towards #002. “Is there anything I can do to help, sir?” He genuinely had it in his head that she was an unattractive, slightly effeminate man.
[8/14/2013 5:25:51 PM] Scurvyj: #002 wordlessly produces a pack of unwaxed dental floss, a needle, and some paper towels. “And figure out if anyone here is AB+. This guy needed a transfusion about an hour ago.”
[8/14/2013 5:26:34 PM] Scurvyj: She stubs her cigarette out in someone’s gunshot wound
[8/14/2013 5:29:03 PM] Scurvyj: “That’ll help stop the bleedin’.” She sticks her head out into the hallway and shouts “IS ANYONE HERE AB POSITIVE! AB POSITIVE! ANYONE? GOT A BLEEDER LOOKIN’ ABOUT AS WET AS THE HUDSON HERE! ANYBODY? NO?!? Okay then, don’t go cryin’ to me if he croaks.”
[8/14/2013 5:29:43 PM] Scurvyj: Someone with computer skills might be able to do a search on the medical records… BUT WHO?
[8/14/2013 5:30:17 PM] Scurvyj: [Roll me up some Intelligence checks, folks. The conscious guys, I mean. Fox, that includes you, and I’ll laugh my ass off if you’re the only one who gets it.]
[8/14/2013 5:31:35 PM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: [+5 -3 +4 INT = 6]
[8/14/2013 5:31:43 PM] Scurvyj: [Because yes, I’m one of those rare asshole Feng Shui GM’s who occasionally calls for non-combat skill checks to be made.]
[8/14/2013 6:13:42 PM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: #963 takes the ‘medical equipment’ rather hesitantly. He moves over to a patient with a rather large open wound and takes a deep breath. “Let’s hope I’m better at this than I think I am…” He then sets to work trying to sew the flesh back together.
[8/14/2013 6:59:10 PM] Scurvyj: You don’t kill him, and that’s about as good a result as you can hope for. “HEY! Thanks, man! Oh, GOD it HURTS!”
[8/14/2013 7:55:46 PM] Boozlebub: [-2+2 – so 4]
[8/15/2013 12:46:56 AM] DrRobertson: [+6 +2 -6 -1 +5 Int = 6 (Oh boy, box cars!)]
[8/15/2013 7:10:25 AM] Scurvyj: #347, you don’t need to walk over to the crappy, thirty-year old computer with the monochrome monitor to search the database, because you’re literate and could actually read the results of your medical screenings, and you know this: you HAVE AB+ blood!
[8/15/2013 7:12:33 AM] Scurvyj: #865, the sight of blood makes you edgy, so you busy yourself with the comics section of the Cityopolis Sentinel that someone left balled up on the floor. Waste not, want not.
[8/15/2013 8:05:26 AM] Scurvyj: [The difficulty was 5 in case anybody was wondering.]
[8/15/2013 8:34:02 AM] O’ Foxy: [Rollin]
[8/15/2013 8:36:43 AM] O' Foxy: [4 + 3 =7]
[8/15/2013 8:37:14 AM] Scurvyj: [Ooh, helpful.]
[8/15/2013 8:50:22 AM] Scurvyj: Fox, you’re not too keen on using the medical database, especially without the use of your hands, but you have spent a fair amount of time in the Infirmary (in many different roles), so you’re able to direct the orderlies around to get things taken care of a little more efficiently.
[8/15/2013 8:53:36 AM] Scurvyj: [Oh yeah, by this time, you guys have made it to the front of the line, so you’re inside now.]
[8/15/2013 8:54:51 AM] O’ Foxy: 87 does so in the most coherant manner possible, and also under the suggested (and after suggestion wasn’t enough) demand of high strength opiates and their various analogs. Sounding much in the way of Mitch Hedberg.
[8/15/2013 8:59:30 AM] Scurvyj: #002 takes another glance at #098 and produces a clear rubber tube and a gently used needle. “Alright then, this guy needs blood. AB+, but if I don’t get that, I’ll take whatever I can get.” You guys are not exactly sure, but you remember something about getting the wrong blood type in a transfusion being very, very bad
[8/15/2013 9:01:15 AM] Scurvyj: She then takes a look at #087 and grabs (literally) two orderlies, handing them a copy of “Medical Care for Dummies.”
[8/15/2013 9:03:10 AM] Scurvyj: “Chapter Four, setting broken bones. Plaster and bandages are in the X-Ray room,” she mutters, Scurvyjking a thumb in the direction of a side door. “Get him into Bed #72 when you’re finished. Oh, and one more thing.”
[8/15/2013 9:03:21 AM] Scurvyj: One of the mooks leans in close to listen
[8/15/2013 9:03:53 AM] Scurvyj: “Don’t fuck it up!” With that, the two mooks look at her, look at #087, shrug, and start wheeling him toward X-Ray, still in his SaveCo shopping cart.
[8/15/2013 9:08:39 AM] Scurvyj: She then proceeds to grab #963, who is in the middle of stitching up a gaping wound. “Not bad, kid. I think you have a knack for this. Help me out with this guy.” She motions toward #098. “Something tells me he won’t be winnin’ any beauty contests after this.”
[8/15/2013 9:26:58 AM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: Looks at her, a little bewildered. “Um… Are you sure? I mean, sewing two pieces of something together is basic home economics. Blood transfusions are serious medical shit.” He looks over #98 again. “Plus, I have no desire to be anywhere near that thing when it wakes up. I’m pretty sure it’s not actually #98.”
[8/15/2013 9:30:03 AM] Scurvyj: [Oh yeah, I made a page for #002 if anyone is interested: http://www.obsidianportal.com/campaigns/mook-to-mastermind/characters/num002 . Also, I updated the Log and Wiki.]
[8/15/2013 9:32:05 AM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: [Haha. Fuckin’ Lunch Lady/ School Nurse “I get two paychecks this way” Doris
[8/15/2013 9:36:16 AM] Scurvyj: Fox, between the book and your instructions, the two are able to set your bones more or less properly, and you’re not exposed to THAT much radiation from the x-ray machine (as far as you know). You find yourself laid up in a dingy room that reeks of death and not-quite-hospital-grade disinfectant, with hundreds of beds packed together as tightly as possible. The room is done up in yellowing wallpaper, battered linoleum, and flickering flourescent lighting, and it vaguely reminds you of zombie invasion movies. A single 10" television against the wall shows slightly fuzzy game shows, but it’s hard to hear over the moans of the injured and dying
[8/15/2013 9:39:22 AM] Scurvyj: She shrugs. “Alright, then. If you’re not up for it, I can get someone else. Hey, you!” She motions to a ham-fisted, cross-eyed mook whose hobbies seem to be huffing paint fumes and lighting cats on fire. “How’d you like to be a doctor?”
[8/15/2013 9:39:53 AM] Scurvyj: “D’ah… WOW! I likey play doctor! Jus’ like with mah uncle when ah wuz eight!”
[8/15/2013 9:41:21 AM] Scurvyj: She hands him a needle and dental floss, and he promptly jabs his finger with the needle and drops it on the floor. “OW! This’ one-a them pointy things!” He sucks his finger, picks up the needle from the floor, and wipes it on his filthy mook uniform
[8/15/2013 9:51:11 AM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: “Okay, okay, I get it.” He sighs and pushes the other mook out of the way to aquire fresh instuments. He sighs heavily and begins to work on closing up the wounds. “Here we go…”
[8/15/2013 10:01:28 AM] Boozlebub: 865 is sitting in the corner staring into space clutching Hopsy tight. Turns out the atmosphere may just be making him remember things.
[8/15/2013 10:19:30 AM] TuxKusanagi: #042 pushes and plows his way into the infirmary and peers about for the player characters (who’s numbers TuxKusanagi is almost guaranteed to never remember), first spotting number 865. He stops in front of him and raises an eyebrow. “What’s that you’ve got there, man?”
[8/15/2013 10:23:07 AM | Edited 10:23:41 AM] TuxKusanagi: (Also, is like to assure every one that my number was produced randomly on the second second try after having gotten 9 the first time. Used a generator and put in between 6 and 999. 9 seemed far too high up and I got 42 instead, much to my nerdy elation. It was a very exciting moment.)
[8/15/2013 10:24:06 AM] Scurvyj: [#009 seems better suited to someone in Bravo Squad. #042 is fine, though if someone above you dies, you might lose your nerd cred.]
[8/15/2013 10:25:08 AM] Scurvyj: “Okay then, let’s stitch the stitch out of this guy!” #002 takes the lead, and #963 can make an Intelligence roll to assist her (it might be necessary, so roll well if you can)
[8/15/2013 10:29:40 AM | Edited 10:35:01 AM] Scurvyj: [+6,-3,+4, Medicine = 22, yeah, you're probably fine regardless.] #002, despite her appearance, is like poetry in motion. Her stitching technique is flawless, and her fingers are able to fold the flaps of loose skin just so. #963, you're able to assist her, but are mostly in awe. By the time she's done, he's still a hideous monstrosity against nature, but at least the bleeding has stopped. He lacks his ears, nose, eyelids, lips, and tongue, now looking something like a dirty baseball with eyes
[8/15/2013 10:31:37 AM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: "Shit, shit, shit..." #963 mutters as he goes to work on the more serious wounds first. [Well that's good... +4 -2 +4 INT = 6]
[8/15/2013 10:33:55 AM] Scurvyj: You’re able to do your job well, though it mostly involves handing #002 things and getting handed things back to throw away. “Alright, if we get some AB+ in this guy, he just might make it out of this. Probably needs a good plastic surgeon, though. Oh, and money. Lots of it.”
[8/15/2013 10:34:34 AM] Scurvyj: She hands #963 the last of the bloody bandages and immediately puffs off to another patient, not wasting any more precious nanoseconds than she has to
[8/15/2013 10:37:18 AM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: Watches her bolt off and almost has a look of respect on his face for the work she manages on such meager means. He tosses the bandage away and goes back out to find a viable donor.
[8/15/2013 10:41:10 AM] Scurvyj: [In game terms, Al, #098 has permanently lost 2 points of Charisma. However, your new face gives you a more menacing appearance, so you'll get a bonus +2 Intimidation, which is a wash as long as you're trying to scare people.]
[8/15/2013 10:44:43 AM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: [That's all I used Charisma for anyway. So +3 intimidation now. Got it.]
[8/15/2013 12:19:13 PM] TuxKusanagi: [Hittin the hay folks. Night]
[8/15/2013 1:15:32 PM] Boozlebub: #865 looks at #042, the first time he’s really given anything else attention since coming back and replies “He’s Hopsy the Happy Bunny. He likes you. You got us out of a bad thing,” before going back to clutching Hopsy tight.
[8/15/2013 1:16:36 PM] Boozlebub: [Sorry, went to see Max and Kyle, and the ol’ phone died.]
[8/15/2013 1:24:03 PM] DrRobertson: #347 willing donates some of his blood which will help #098 pull through.
[8/15/2013 1:25:07 PM] DrRobertson: [Just a head up, and in hilarious fashion, I met someone tonight who works in the medical field. AB+ can take only AB+ or O-. O- is able to give to be received by all types. The more you know!]
[8/15/2013 1:32:23 PM] DrRobertson: After giving blood [let me know if you need a check], #347 heads to #087’s room, and reads some of his beloved T. S. Eliot, which he produces from his breast pocket.
[8/15/2013 1:33:23 PM] DrRobertson: [Just for reference as to what he reads to #087: http://allpoetry.com/poem/8453753-The_Hollow_Men-by-T_S__Eliot ]
[8/15/2013 9:40:09 PM] TuxKusanagi: [Boozlebub, what do I see?]
[8/15/2013 10:50:41 PM] Boozlebub: You see 865 holding a stuffed rabbit. This toy has obviously been… Well loved. Yeah. It is quite ragged and made of tough material. You can only guess its original color, but presently it is dingy and well blood caked. It also looks like it has a surprising weight to it.
[8/15/2013 10:51:50 PM] Boozlebub: [Sorry, I’m at work]
[8/15/2013 11:03:11 PM] TuxKusanagi: #042 spends a couple of moments peering at the bunny and the man holding it, looking back and forth between the two. One hand twitches with an urge to pull the thing from the mooks grasp and rip it’s head off, with a cry of “That’s not standard issue!” but…something holds him back. In fact, he even takes a small and wary step backward, nodding a few times and offering a small grin to the obviously…uh…injured man. “Yyyyy….eess. Hopsy. Er…good man. Yes. Uh, why don’t you and Hopsy get yourselves cleaned up after your wounds are taken care of. And then I’d like you to report to Doctor #020. I’m…sure he’d like to meet Hopsy.” He nods for a moment, gets out a pen and paper and scrawls a room number on it, handing it to #865. That’s right. He’d sent him to the Stitch Co. “Employee” shrink.
[8/16/2013 12:54:44 AM] DrRobertson: [Going back to our unifroms real quick, I sort of picture us wearing something like this: http://images4.fanpop.com/image/polls/586000/586354_1290789773203_full.jpg or http://www.trademarkpr.com/temp/Misfits/Bilder/Misfits%20S2%20Images/Episode%203/Superhoodie%20Episode%203.jpg]
[8/16/2013 12:56:55 AM] DrRobertson: [It’s really just cloth and what I can assume is acquired from paintballing gear, which shows that while we are extremely slightly armoured, maybe to avoid bruising, we’re still susceptible to any hits we take]
[8/16/2013 12:57:59 AM] DrRobertson: [If anything, I figure we’re all wearing the overalls, save for #042 or #003, that are kitted out in the snazzy black gear]
[8/16/2013 1:15:20 AM] Boozlebub: [Sorta what I was thinking, too.] #865 sees #042’s hand twitch a little, and he reflexively clutches Hopsy a little tighter, defensively. He takes the piece of paper given to him with one hand, Hopsy close to his chest cautiously. He puts it in his front pocket and goes back to looking at the funny pictures with the weird squiggles by them.
[8/16/2013 4:54:43 AM] TuxKusanagi: [Hey that’s the guy from misfits. Awesome.]
[8/16/2013 5:09:14 AM] TuxKusanagi: [So the second link isn’t working for me. But if I’m in black, i imagine it’s similar to that but with the number posted in block on left chest. and somewhere easily visible the Stitch Co. logo?]
[8/16/2013 5:09:53 AM] TuxKusanagi: Seeing that the unbalanced man took the paper, he nods, then turns and scans the rest of the room. He spots #002 and, probaly causing a few of the cries of pain he ignores behind him, he strides in as direct a line to her as is possible. A snappy salute preceeds his “Ma’am. Anything I can do to assist?”
[8/16/2013 5:20:45 AM] DrRobertson: [The second link is when he goes into his lair using the elevator. It’s just a larger image, to give us a better look of what it is. I think it’s fitting however, as I said ti does some very minute resistance but nothing really good, much like a wozard’s robes.]
[8/16/2013 5:21:40 AM] DrRobertson: [What about number on elft, Stitch Co. on right?]
[8/16/2013 5:21:47 AM] TuxKusanagi: [Looks good to me. If Scurvyj says it’s cool. Do we have a picture of the Stitch Co logo?]
[8/16/2013 5:22:33 AM] TuxKusanagi: [Nah, The stitch Co logo has to be big and Obvious. The numbers are only there for ease of recognition.}
[8/16/2013 5:23:08 AM] DrRobertson: [What about the waist strap?]
[8/16/2013 5:23:15 AM] DrRobertson: [Or helmet?]
[8/16/2013 5:24:01 AM] DrRobertson: [I like to imagine that when you apply you essentially choose a place for the stencil to be applied to. Assuming you’re getting new gear, or gear that needs it resprayed that is.]
[8/16/2013 5:24:16 AM] Boozlebub: [Helmet is where I put 865’s number in my shitty drawing.]
[8/16/2013 5:24:38 AM] DrRobertson: [I rather enjoy the drawing. My only question is what he’s sitting on.]
[8/16/2013 5:24:49 AM] DrRobertson: [I assume beams for construction.]
[8/16/2013 5:24:54 AM] Boozlebub: [Bunk beds]
[8/16/2013 5:25:21 AM] DrRobertson: [Yes, that makes much more sense. It wouldn’t be that sound a sctructure, beams that is, but it fits with our line of work.]
[8/16/2013 5:25:42 AM] Boozlebub: [Likely made from surplus supplies]
[8/16/2013 5:26:40 AM] DrRobertson: [I forgot to put a space after the second link and the bracket: http://www.trademarkpr.com/temp/Misfits/Bilder/Misfits%20S2%20Images/Episode%203/Superhoodie%20Episode%203.jpg ]
[8/16/2013 5:29:02 AM] Boozlebub: [If I ever get to waste exp, I am so having 865 get sewing only fabric so he can make more stuffed animals from the clothes of slain foes ]
[8/16/2013 5:29:06 AM] DrRobertson: After #347 finishes reading ‘The Hollow Men’ to #087, he will also go and offer his services to #002. “I suppose I’ll help in whatever way I can. I’ve already given some of my blood, so I may as well help further.”
[8/16/2013 5:35:46 AM] TuxKusanagi: [Back in a bit]
[8/16/2013 5:40:48 AM] Scurvyj: [The numbers would be applied with washable paint, or maybe dry-erase marker. Or maybe there’s a clear plastic pocket where you can slide an ID badge in and out, and the badge has a big, obvious number on it.]
[8/16/2013 5:41:25 AM] Scurvyj: [And DrRobertson, good call on the uniforms!]
[8/16/2013 5:46:48 AM] Scurvyj: “Great, let’s get this guy juiced up, then.” #002 walks over to #347 with the tube and gently-used needle, jabs it into your arm, applies a little mouth suction to the other end to get it going, siphon-style, then attaches another good-as-new needle to the other side and into #098’s arm
[8/16/2013 5:48:30 AM] Scurvyj: [+4,-1, Medicine = 18. Yay! No collapsed veins or infections!] She’s definitely none too gentle, but the needle finds its mark on the first try, and your blood is pumping away into #098
[8/16/2013 5:51:22 AM | Edited 5:57:13 AM] Scurvyj: #865, it’s been a long time since you paid a visit to the “special” doctor. It may have been after that time you found him swinging from the ceiling fan by his neck. That looked like such fun! He even left a note on his desk, probably a story about how great his life was and how much he enjoyed helping people!
[8/16/2013 5:53:08 AM] Scurvyj: You make a mental note to stop by after debriefing.
[8/16/2013 5:56:07 AM] Scurvyj: #347, after the transfusion is finished, you’re a little woozy, but #002 asks you to wheel him over to Bed #71. She produces what looks suspiciously like the SaveCo shopping cart from earlier, but with the StitchCo logo crudely written over it in spray paint
[8/16/2013 6:04:47 AM | Edited 6:05:06 AM] Scurvyj: #098, at some point after being laid up in the hospital bed, you start to slowly regain consciousness. You pick up snatches of conversation from The Price is Wrong, though they sound a bit fuzzy (you can still hear most of it even with your ears hacked off as they are, I looked it up). You are also in agonizing, blinding pain.
[8/16/2013 7:59:27 AM] Scurvyj: “Ooh, I’m sorry. The price we were looking for was $375. Looks like it’s time to spin the Punishment Wheel!”
[8/16/2013 8:03:48 AM] Scurvyj: Once #087 and #098 are laid up for a night of awful, irregular, frequently interrupted half-sleep, the rest of you are asked to return your weapons to the Armory and return to your bunks. Tomorrow, you’ll be sent to Debriefing, a prospect that simultaneously excites and terrifies you
[8/16/2013 8:04:22 AM] Scurvyj: It’s exciting because you feel that you’ve done well, all things considered, but terrifying because the lot of you will be alone in a room with Dr. Stitch himself
[8/16/2013 8:05:32 AM] Scurvyj: [Okay, in all seriousness, this is the last, LAST opportunity for free RP. When I get home today, I hope to run the debriefing, so y’all have 8 hours or so to get your last bits in. The long-awaited XP award is coming soon, don’t worry.]
[8/16/2013 8:41:59 AM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: #98 tosses and turns in his bed. “Bid $1, cunt…” He grinds his teeth a little. “They’re all over…” His entire body spasms a couple times. “Plinko…” He shifts around some more. “Strap that whore to the wheel…” Subconsiously, he reaches around for his tri-section staff but nods off, back to sleep, without knowing if he grabbed it or the bed frame.
[8/16/2013 9:46:51 AM] Scurvyj: [In case it wasn’t clear, #087 and #098 have their beds next to one another. Oh, and to answer an earlier question, EVERYTHING has the StitchCo logo, uniforms included. Usually, it also includes a creepy likeness of Dr. Stitch’s face, You know, to remind you.]
[8/16/2013 9:53:23 AM] Scurvyj: [If someone wants to draw one, that would be awesome. It might be flavored like Murray from Murray’s Discount Auto Parts (may he rest in peace).]
[8/16/2013 9:55:48 AM] O’ Foxy: Slips in and out of a state of delirium. brought on by whatever it was that hovered over his body in the IV drip, he lay there staring for excessive periods of time. Without much in the way of explanation he could be heard humming Symphonie fantastique, something he has no idea about.
[8/16/2013 9:56:09 AM] O’ Foxy: #87 that is*
[8/16/2013 9:58:28 AM] Scurvyj: [It’s StitchCo Brand Synthetic Morphine. Feels so good, you’ll be asking for MORE-phine! It’s probably highly toxic and even more addictive than the regular stuff, but whatever. #098, yours starts kicking in too. #002 must REALLY like you guys; she generally doesn’t give any kind of painkillers.]
[8/16/2013 10:19:35 AM] Boozlebub: [This was about the best one I can find.] #865 meanders up to #347 with one of the pictures with the funny squiggly lines by it showing it to #347. Look! Billy did his patrol route and is given his rations! [handing 347 this – http://algetler.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/family-circus-large.gif ]
[8/16/2013 10:30:55 AM] Scurvyj: [Classic.]
[8/16/2013 10:37:47 AM] DrRobertson: “you’re lucky we’re paid by the hour” #347 proclaims, with a grin on his face. He’s still taking in what occured over the events of a single day. He’s never really considered himself a leader, but he feels as if he’s fulfilled that role, one that is just so alien to him.
[8/16/2013 10:40:42 AM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: #963 sighs and finally plops down in a nearby chair after, barely, successfully stitching up several more wounded mooks. “Holy hell… That was a rough battle.” He looks down at the bloody needle in his hand. “How many people did I use this on?”
[8/16/2013 10:41:44 AM] Boozlebub: We’re PAID? What’s this Paid thing? Is it good?
[8/16/2013 10:43:28 AM] Scurvyj: [Oh, god. Why do I suddenly imagine that Dr. Stitch is “holding on to” your paychecks, ala Tony from Leon: The Professional?]
[8/16/2013 10:43:53 AM] Scurvyj: [Oh, lord. I actually found the clip: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qttxEQikeu0 ]
[8/16/2013 10:44:08 AM] Boozlebub: [And I’ll get started on the StitchCo logo when I can. If I have free time tonight. if not tomorrow or so.]
[8/16/2013 10:45:40 AM] Boozlebub: [The concept of pay for services rendered is COMPLETELY FOREIGN to #865.]
[8/16/2013 10:45:56 AM] TuxKusanagi: #042 spends his night giving a number of the mooks who were injured, but not in any way that really hinders their performance (I.E. missing less than two limbs) and, he feels, didn’t give it thier “Stitch Co Best”, demerits. That’s right, loss of stars on the board and one more strike towards an hour in the Time Out Pit. After his beloved paperwork is finished he sets out back toward the infirmary. Spotting #963 he stalks up to him and stops. Standing at ease (Or at least what he thinks At Ease generally looks like, he peers down at him.
[8/16/2013 10:47:47 AM] DrRobertson: [I may even do my interpretation of the Stitch Co. logo, we’ll see.]
[8/16/2013 10:48:56 AM] DrRobertson: “Of course we’re paid. You know, they give us money in exchange for our work. You could be on a different contract than I am, probably an unpaid internship given your lack of skills. Anyway, how else would you ever expect us to pay or do things on our days off?” #347 explains to #865
[8/16/2013 10:49:40 AM] TuxKusanagi: [the set up…]
[8/16/2013 10:51:10 AM] Boozlebub: “Oh! Okay!” You aren’t really convinced that he really “gets” it, but it’s not too surprising. “Like an allowance!”
[8/16/2013 10:51:26 AM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: :looks up at #042 and holds up his needle and dental floss. “You need patching too? I guess I’ve got a few more in me.”
[8/16/2013 10:52:08 AM] TuxKusanagi: [Oh, and surprisingly the bait fails. I’m sorry Boozlebub, the correct Typical Sitcom Response to that was “We get DAYS OFF?!”
[8/16/2013 10:53:19 AM] Boozlebub: [Ah, and he knows of days off. Most of them are spent in… well laying in his bunk, or exploring the garage to find new and exciting beverages with Hopsy]
[8/16/2013 10:53:23 AM] Scurvyj: [This game is like a bad, dystopian sitcom interspersed with brutal action sequences.]
[8/16/2013 10:55:09 AM] Boozlebub: [His favorite remains the Magical Green Koolade. So sweet and nummy and makes him feel all funny]
[8/16/2013 11:00:22 AM | Edited 11:01:19 AM] TuxKusanagi: He’s somewhat de-winded by that response, and sags a little. He was intending to reprimand the man for not standing to attention (clearly working under the delusion that is was some kind of military operation) but instead he faulters. The sharp response was bitten off before it could escape, and instead he relaxed. “At ease, man. You’ve done a fine days work. You and the rest of the remaining…” he stops, pulls out a piece of paper, returns it to his pocket and continues as though nothing had happened “…Caring Corps have earned a little rest.” He reaches into another pocket and pulls out a few cards. Meal tickets he’d confiscated from underlings who had earned demerits for one thing or another. (Being out of uniform, boots not shiny enough, not smoking within the red lines, losing too many fingers in the laundry room) “Extra rations for your squad. Be sure to divvy them up amongst yourselves evenly. And make sure you get that uniformed cleaed, man.”
[8/16/2013 11:08:18 AM] TuxKusanagi: [Anyone ever see red dwarf?]
[8/16/2013 11:08:48 AM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: #963 groans as he stands again, not quite able to make it to full attention. “Sir, yes, sir.” He pockets one of the cards and walks over to #347. “Could you pass these out to the leftover front line guys? I’ve got to get back to work…” He forces them into #347’s hand, not giving him the option and heads back into the operating area with his needle at the ready. “So much blood… Son of a bitch… The blood…”
[8/16/2013 11:10:22 AM] TuxKusanagi: [I’m kind of using Rimmer as my base for this character]
[8/16/2013 11:11:23 AM] Scurvyj: [I like the concept, go with it!]
[8/16/2013 11:14:52 AM] DrRobertson: #347 takes the stack and pockets a card. “Hey #865” he says “Dole these out to your coworkers. I’m trusting you with this, so don’t screw it up. It’s your frist step to moving up in the world.”
[8/16/2013 11:16:00 AM] TuxKusanagi: “My god man, you’re dead on your feet. What possible use could you be in there? Besides, you’ve all got a big day ahead of you. Debreifing!” He says, with clear relish, a grin forming imperceptibly beneath his mask. “You get to sit face to face with Doctor Stitch!” He stands up straighter, almost seeming as though he’s about to salute at the mere mention of his name!
[8/16/2013 11:18:53 AM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: #963 raises an eyebrow at him quizzically. “With all due respect, there’s not many other options.” He points at #865. “Either I do it, or he does. I like the guy but I’m fairly certain he’s the reason nobody can ever find any anti-freeze in the garage.”
[8/16/2013 11:20:07 AM] Boozlebub: #865’s eyes grow as wide as dinner plates, seeing all the ration cards for oh so much FOODLike (It’s Like Food! tm). He rushes off, giving a card to the two bunkmates. He stands above #098’s bed and says “I hope you win a ring in yours! You too!” looking at the good kind fellow mook in full traction and scampers off to find more people to give the vouchers to. He has a hard time remembering who was front lines… Or how to give vouchers to chunks of organic matter on his helmet.
[8/16/2013 11:24:07 AM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: He remembers #002’s lesson from before and moves a little quicker to the next bed. He focuses his eyes for a moment before going to work. “Ooh… I’ve been stitchin’ on the injured… All the live long day…”
[8/16/2013 11:32:15 AM] TuxKusanagi: He turns to find #347 and nods to him. "Do me a favor will you man? You’re the highest ranking member of your group, make sure your men are rested for tomorrow. And…I’ll see if i can pull a few strings and let you stand in on that Doctor Sissy-pants ah…‘questioning’. And…make sure #865 attends his meeting with #020 tomorrow afternoon. I’ll look into requesitioning him a…ah…new helmet.
[8/16/2013 11:33:26 AM] TuxKusanagi: [Probably goin to bed in a few minutes. Might have one more post in me though.]
[8/16/2013 11:33:30 AM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: [Highest ranking member not doped up on cheap morphine.]
[8/16/2013 11:33:39 AM] TuxKusanagi: [Yes.]
[8/16/2013 11:35:11 AM] Scurvyj: [This is gold, guys!]
[8/16/2013 11:38:47 AM] Scurvyj: [This kinda works if you replace “Dr. Stein” with “Dr. Stitch” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3FFTQRmsK0k ]
[8/16/2013 11:40:13 AM] Thelonious Alsquatch III: [Perfect face for the logo.]
[8/16/2013 11:40:33 AM] Scurvyj: [Oh, lord… you’re right!]
[8/16/2013 11:43:47 AM] TuxKusanagi: [hell yes]
[8/16/2013 11:48:54 AM] DrRobertson: “I’ll see what I can do, though I don’t make any promises, I’m rather certain I should be able to pull it off.” #347 replies, with a hint of displeasure in his voice.
[8/16/2013 11:50:07 AM] Scurvyj: [Add some stitches on his face, and maybe a Stencil or Bauhaus font… possibly even the dreaded Jokerman]
[8/16/2013 11:51:58 AM] Scurvyj: [Alright, I’m-a go eat lunch. After I teach classes today, I’ll lay out the beginning of the Debriefing, realizing that it will be about 3:00 am or so out by you guys, and you can chime in whenever until I wake up tomorrow. Until then, feel free to free RP. Later!]
[8/16/2013 12:05:13 PM] Boozlebub: [drat. No more Scurvyj. I was drawing.]
[8/16/2013 12:53:47 PM | Edited 12:53:55 PM] Scurvyj: [I’ll be off in 4 hours or so]
[8/16/2013 12:54:24 PM] Boozlebub: [Okay. If you’re up when I wake up, I’ll send the new picture. It’s quite a sight.]
[8/17/2013 4:58:41 AM] DrRobertson: [man, i just want my briefs to be deed!]
[8/17/2013 5:32:47 AM] Scurvyj: [Hah, took me a second to figure that one out. Stupid first-thing-in-the-morning brain.]
[8/17/2013 5:33:22 AM] Scurvyj: [Apologies, folks. I’m apparently sick again, so I conked out fairly early last night, and even in the afternoon I felt it unfair to play the Dr. in anything but my best form.]
[8/17/2013 5:33:24 AM] Scurvyj: You all have a strange dream in the night leading up to the debriefing. It’s a bit fuzzy and hard to remember, but you and the other PC mooks are walking through the streets of a dusty town. All the buildings look really old, maybe 200 years or so. There’s poverty and disease everywhere you look; mosquitos buzz around pools of fetid standing water, and everyone seems to be dying of thirst. As the five… maybe six… of you pass, filthy, dried-up people reach their hands out to you, getting into your face, begging you for a glass of water. You ignore them and continue on.

You walk through a parched wasteland whose shapes seem to make less geometric sense with every step you take; mountains and hills terminate into valleys and canyons, all with the slippery, shifting quality of an optical illusion. You walk for what seems like an eternity, your feet cracked and bleeding, with an ache that travels all the way up your legs to the back of your head. You’re dying of thirst, you realize, and each wobbly step seems like it could be the one that terminates in a forward fall. Nevertheless, you press on.

Eventually, you make your way up a steep, dusty hill, that dips down into a deep canyon. As you start to make your way to the bottom, the group of you stop suddenly, fall silent, and listen. There is an unmistakable gurgling sound coming from somewhere. It’s water! Without even having to communicate, the group fans out and begins to search the canyon walls. Finally, one of you points to a wall constructed of tumbled rocks, placed deliberately, perhaps. Suddenly, the group of you are standing there with pickaxes, hacking at the rocks, expending every little bit of energy you have left to break them to pieces. One by one, the pickaxes start to break, and strangely, as people drop their splintered implements, they begin beating at the rocks with their bare hands, and the stones begin to crack and break under their blows.

When the first trickle of water starts to spray from the canyon wall, you all take turns drinking it, showering in it, and it empowers you. All the fatigue and pain are washed away, and you return to your task with renewed zeal. The punching picks up in pace until you’re all striking faster than any human you’ve ever seen, smashing through the solid stone effortlessly, as if it were paper mache. Before long, the wall gives way, collapsing under the weight of the rushing river behind it.

Your eyes light up at the miraculous sight. Water, clean and crystalline, surges through the bottom of the canyon! The waves engulf all of you, and the last thing you remember is laughing and swimming in it, playing with the abandon of children on a hot summer day.
[8/17/2013 5:33:41 AM] DrRobertson: [It’s all good. I was expecting to wake up ad find a whole slew of text. Look at it this way, I was dissapointed to not find that. I’m, actually having fun!]
[8/17/2013 5:34:38 AM] Scurvyj: [Well, there’s the first wall of text, give that a read while I go blow my nose.]

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