.HULL's trademark smirk falls into a tight-lipped grimace as he sees the hulking figure with the golden maul before them. .BREAKER. Why would such a high grade /GHOST be here? The scraping of claws fills the air and he knows they've been betrayed, even before the creatures launched at them from behind, a flurry of concrete and what looked like bone. .DOGS. The /WRAITH had blended with the Ghost World and still had residual traces of the environment's code when they'd separated again. .HULL glances back at the other /GHOSTS reacting to the ambush as best as they were able. We're screwed.

.COIL had allowed his sharp senses to lull in the wake of a successful looting. The appearance of .BREAKER and the subsequent /WRAITH emergence had left him panicing for a moment; There was no time for niceties anymore.

They were already spotted. "Run." He whispered, even as he desperately sought the threads of Code, trying to find the /ECHOES. The line to lead them to safety. If he could find it, they could follow it - if not to safety, then to momentary reprieve, before the threads could collapse to a single inevitable result.

"RUN."

The Spirit World throbs around .COIL, the threads of code becoming visible dull golden strands of spiderweb as he coils them around his fingers. The rest of the /CREW can feel .COIL's heartbeat grow overpoweringly loud as he forces his will upon the Spirit World. The approaching /WRAITHS can surely hear it as well.

GOAL>>> The threads lead through an /ECHO a new /PLACE
DANGER> The /WRAITHS close in and attack while .COIL is busy

Things to embellish: What are /ECHOES?

.DEMON decided not to run! So he attacks the nearest /Wraith. "I'm not going down that easy," He explained.

.GRIP quickly assesses the situation: .BREAKER ahead of them, maul in hand, and /WRAITHS coming in fast. .DOGS weren't especially tough one-on-one, but they generally attack in packs. Take out the Alpha and the rest fall away. And right now .GRIP was fairly certain who the Alpha was.

"Hey, .DEMON, watch .COIL's back," .GRIP shouts, as he draws his custom Lancer .45.

With gun in hand, .GRIP loosens reality's hold, steps sideways and disappears into the aetherium, slipping through the ghost field towards .BREAKER.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:18, Wed 24 Nov 2010.

Typical Pick-ups, .HULL thought as the group reacted, each with his own mine. That's the problem working with a new crew, especially blind. It's every man for himself at the first sign of trouble. And this was big trouble. .COIL's got the right idea if we want to get out of this alive. .HULL's hand slips down to his harness and comes back with a rod about four inches long and an inch thick. .HULL knows the disruption rod won't save them, but it might buy them some time. He throws it toward the oncoming /WRAITHS hoping to scramble their code.

OOC: I didn't know if I was supposed to roll or not. If not just ignore it.

22:26, Today: .HULL rolled 4 using 2d6 with rolls of 3,1. 2d6 Goal and Danger.

GOAL>>> The threads lead through an /ECHO a new /PLACE ---> 3
DANGER> The /WRAITHS close in and attack while .COIL is busy ---> 1
This message was last edited by the player at 06:32, Wed 24 Nov 2010.

There is not just one /WRAITH... not even just one pack of them. The dark entrances leading underground throb and disgorge an endless flood of black shiny bodies, individual .DOGs impossible to make out in the malestrom of glass eyes and metal claws. The inky blackness of the underground sticking to their bodies like tar.

Faster than the /CREW can blink, they are upon you.

.HULL
GOAL>>> you stop all the .DOGs by scrambling their code
DANGER> all the .DOGs turn on you

.GRIP
GOAL>>> you move towards .BREAKER
DANGER> you fall right into .BREAKER's trap!

.DEMON
GOAL>>> you tear apart a few /WRAITHs
DANGER> you suffer HARM

OPPORTUNITY> Threads of code coiled together, breaking the light in strange hues, another /PLACE half visible through them

Roll your actions, remember that you can add more dangers, write out the results, rock on.

"Almost there.."

Whispers .COIL to himself, hunting the threads of Code. Things that have past, things that are, and - via deduction - things that are coming. The /ECHOES of the Spirit World, the movement of things within and the field itself. Knowing how to look among them was less of a science and more of an art, an instinct. The weaving motion of his hands, the heavy beat of his heart as he sifts through it, his hands rolling about one another; Literally coiling the Aether like a weaver would search a loosened end. A spider in the center of a sudden web. Somewhere, a line that doesn't churn with danger. Somewhere, another /PLACE. A path that doesn't lead to an end.

It was a horribly noticable way to move, no finesse what-so-ever, but they were already found. The howling of the .DOGS could be heard, even over the world-pulse of his heartbeat.

There. THERE.

As the new /PLACE becomes visible, .COIL steadies himself against the Aether and yells to the others. "Now! NOW! I can't hold it for long!" He turns in desperation, but teh /CREW have already begun to fracture and move apart from one another.

".GRIP!!"
This message was last edited by the player at 14:34, Wed 24 Nov 2010.

The disruption rod soars through the air then detonates very near where .HULL had wanted. The air where the rod goes off became a jagged tear fragmenting anything near into a mist of tiny little shards. Unfortunately for .HULL the only thing that falls victim to the disruption effect is a section of ruins. The .DOGS had detected the rod as soon as he'd unsheathed it, and gotten the hell out of the way. Now their attentions all turned to him, bearer of Tier-3 restricted device.

He heard .COIL's shout of "Now! NOW! I can't hold it for long!" and he turned and bolted toward .COIL and the now open way to some other /PLACE.

OOC:
15:56, Today: .HULL rolled 3 using 2d6 with rolls of 1,2.
GOAL>>> you stop all the .DOGs by scrambling their code --> 1
DANGER> all the .DOGs turn on you ---> 2

Something unseen tugs at .GRIP and snatches him roughly from the aetherium. He tumbles forward and hits the ground hard. He's up in a flash and, with a quick glance, knows he's not nearly close enough to follow his original plan. And worse yet, he's directly in .BREAKER's line of site; an easy target for an attack.

Suddenly, a charge of a disruption energy fills the air. And .COIL is shouting his name. He turns to see an uncountable number of .DOGS moving toward .HULL, and .HULL on the move. Then he spots .COIL dancing, moving, manipulating the /ECHOES, holding a door open for their way out.

.GRIP runs for it, firing his Lancer aimlessly into the roiling mass of .DOGS, and shouting for .DEMON. "Come on, man, we gotta go!"


17:38, Today: .GRIP rolled 5 using 2d6 with rolls of 4,1
GOAL>>> you move towards .BREAKER ---> 1
DANGER> you fall right into .BREAKER's trap! ---> 4
This message was last edited by the player at 23:11, Wed 24 Nov 2010.

.HULL becomes the only thing the .DOGs register. Their hide, now freee from the inky impression of the Underground, flicker according to whatever part of the ruins they run close to.

And they all run towards .HULL.

.GRIP feels a code filament snag around his waist, the remains of .BREAKER's trap that he just barely managed to avoid. It looks like a strand of golden spidersilk, constrictig his body, stretching back towards .BREAKER. It almost looks like a monowire about to cut into him.

.COIL stabilizes the weave that leads to another ?time and /PLACE, as the rest of the /CREW has their own problems. He is free from malign attention since the .DOGs turned on .HULL and .BREAKER has his usual perverse fun with .GRIP.

The cart filled with .METAL lies abandoned and forgotten a mere step away.

I'm waiting for .DEMON's post before assigning more rolls.

.HULL
GOAL>>> get to the tear
DANGER> you get HURT by the .DOGs

.GRIP
GOAL>>> get to the tear
DANGER> you get HURT by .BREAKER's trap

.COIL
GOAL>>> let only the /CREW through the tear
DANGER> the tear collapses, trapping you in the Ruins

.GRIP feels a sudden tightening around his waist and stops running. A quick glance down reveals the subtle shimmer of a monoline. This wasn't good. He was close enough to .COIL and the pathway to feel the torrents in the aether. A little closer and the ghost field would pull them through of its own accord. And now this.

The monoline tightens more, cutting through .GRIP's jacket, and then into his flesh. .GRIP doubles over from the searing pain. He turns to see .BREAKER smiling, getting some small thrill from his pain. Not this time, .BREAKER. You're not taking me twice, he thinks, and then, straining through the hurt, lets himself fade into the aetherium. A quick slip, and the line falls away.

.GRIP grimaces as he lays an arm over his injured stomach. The monoline burn would need some attention. And leave a nasty scar regardless. He does his best to stumble away from .BREAKER and onward to the pathway.

Someone's gonna have to take .BREAKER out soon, he thinks to himself. .BREAKER was just another ego-boosted Quantum Ghost who's time had come.

08:56, Today: .GRIP rolled 5 using 2d6 with rolls of 3,2.
GOAL>>> get to the tear ---> 3
DANGER> you get HURT by .BREAKER's trap ---> 2

.COIL gasps his strain as he stabilizes the weave of Echoes, the new /PLACE flickering over the old like two movies run at the same time on the same blank wall. He realizes it is only from teh /CREW's intervention that he had enough time to do this - and the realization that, even now, its already beginning to slip away from his fingers. The coils of thread cutting deeply into his hands despite the Aethereal nature, forcing him to lean back as if against a great gale.

He casts a desperate glance over his shoulder: .GRIP and .HULL approaching. But where is .DEMON?! A thread slips loose from his grip, and the tear fluctuates, .COIL's attention snapping back to it as he holds it as long as he can; Too late, already too late, there won't be enough time ... !

"Hurry!" He gives one last desperate cry to teh /CREW. Pick-ups they may be, but he is the Compass, and it was his failure in sensing the trap. Their harm would weigh heavily on him, though his was neither Shield, nor Sword, nor Crown - The typical layout.


OOC> 12:34, Today: .COIL rolled 8 using 2d6. GOAL, DANGER.
I forgot to have it record individual, but it was 4, 4. Partial success, partial danger.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:56, Fri 26 Nov 2010.

.HULL runs as fast as his legs can carry him, but the .DOGS are faster. One of them pounces on him ten feet from the tear sending him sprawling. Several .DOGS are on him quickly and its all .HULL can do to keep them from ripping him up. Thankfully his clothes offer him some protection from the .DOGS' sharp claws and vicious teeth.

OOC:
15:50, Today: .HULL rolled 5 using 2d6 with rolls of 3,2.

.HULL
GOAL>>> get to the tear --> 2
DANGER> you get HURT by the .DOGs --> 3 (What is partially hurt?)

a "+" marks the goal or danger that is also an opportunity - so it comes true on 3-6 instead of 5-6. Don't forget that you can add an extra danger to your roll in exchange for one more die.

.GRIP stumbles as the insidious nature of .BREAKER's trap becomes apparent. It feels as if the burn left from the monowire on his body was alive with shardsof glass, wriggling and cutting him from the inside. The pain is intense, threatening to plunge him into the deep well of unconsciousness. He can feel .BREAKER's familiar voice reverbrating through the pain, teasing... Come back, we'll have so much fun... again... remember the last time? You said you'd come back...

.GRIP
GOAL+>> Get to the tear
DANGER> You are incapacitated by .BREAKER's trap

The threads cut into .COIL's hands; crimson droplets ooze out of the sharp cuts on his gloves and sleeves. The crimson blothes on the ground around him surreal in the otherwise completely grey and black Ruins. He remembers an Oracle casting cards for him, a lifetime ago, and each time he picked a card its suit was neither sword, shield nor crown... Always alone against the darkness. He has to shake his head to stop the flood of memories, for the tear twists and becomes the colour of his nightmares.

.COIL
GOAL+>>> let only the /CREW through the tear
DANGER+> the tear collapses, trapping you in the Ruins

.HULL is still a ways from the tear, stumbling under the weight of the shimmering horde of .DOGs. Talons and fangs flash, blood coloured, still not quite managing to penetrate his defense. The code of the Ruins throbs and shimmers around him, the intense emotions he gives off making the ghost world become vibrant and less colourless...

.HULL
GOAL>>>> get to the tear
DANGER+> you get HURT by the .DOGs

Bleeding from several cuts from the onslaught of the .DOGS .HULL struggles to get free. He kicks a .DOG that tries to pounce him momentarily deterring it. One of the other .DOGS lunges for his face and his only choice is to move his right arm in to intercept the attack. The .DOG bites down on his arm. "AHHH!" Fighting against the pain .HULL manages to reach a tucked-away knife with his left hand. He raises the knife and strikes across his body, plunging it into the /WRAITH's shoulder. It releases his arm as it draws back, but wrenches the knife from his grip. Several shots ring out and two of the dogs turn their attention away from .HULL. .DEMON's voice shouts, "Move! Now!" .HULL summons all his strength, pushing himself up and making a run for the portal. He gets close enough that he can feel the /WAY start to pull him in toward another /PLACE.

OOC:
15:54, Today: .HULL rolled 9 using 2d6 with rolls of 3,6.
.HULL
GOAL>>>> get to the tear --> 6
DANGER+> you get HURT by the .DOGs --> 3

.GRIP stumbles to his knees, the pain of the monowire's burn nearly unbearable. But he's so close to .COIL and the /WAY, he can't stop now. So close. Pushing through the pain, yelling, distracting himself, .GRIP stands, both arms now wrapped around his midsection, and moves forward. One foot forward... then the next. Keep moving...

"You said you'd come back..."

.ECHO_PARK, three years ago. .BREAKER stood over .NIX's body, smiling that damn smile of his. They had trusted him, followed him into .BELLTOWN. But it all went foul too fast. .VIPERs everywhere, psyche-piercing cries pinning the .CREW down. .BREAKER went missing, but only for an hour. What happened? He caught up in .ECHO_PARK. He killed .NIX - she was too young to die like that.

"I said I'd come back," mumbles .GRIP. "To kill you, you bastard!"

.GRIP falls into the tear. He feels the aether take him, and then nothing. Unconsciousness. Darkness.

17:48, Today: .GRIP rolled 4 using 2d6 with rolls of 1,3.
GOAL+>> Get to the tear ---> 3
DANGER> You are incapacitated by .BREAKER's trap ---> 1

.COIL watches his own sanguine drops spin off before they even wet the .RUINS, spun off into the wind of the Aether as it swirls into the tear. But - for the moment - he is its master, riding the crescent between disaster before and cataclysm behind. The fulcrum of the twisting, threaded /ECHOES.

With a strange sort of calm, his feet digging troughs in the .RUINS as he is drawn inexplicably forward, he watches both .GRIP and .HULL disappear into the new /PLACE. To safety. His heartbeat seems, to him, to slow to a crawl as adrenaline courses through him, watching from the corner of his eye as .DEMON holds back what he can.

There is no time anymore. Save a few, or save none at all. "... .DEMON..." He whispers - an apology? A euology? Something of both? There simply is nothing left he can do, so he releases his control, surrendering to the path he has forced into the Aether between /PLACE and ?Time...

And the tear collapses to seal the way.

The Ghost World spins out of focus, bends itself at an impossible angle and hurls the /CREW through a rose smelling screen.

There is a hard impact as they land on wet earth. Slowly, painfully, the world comes back into focus, revealing multicoloured canvas walls formint the deserted square where they landed. The sound of countless people performing, bartering and cursing fills the air. The night skies are overcast, the low clouds neon lit with bright commercials.

.GRIP's body convulses in the almost-mud, white foam and blood on his lips, back arched into a tight halfcircle. His enhanced muscles just might break his bones if this goes on any longer. Through torn clothing, /CREW can see biomechanic thorns pulsing, burrowing deeper, injecting more nightmares .BREAKER designed into .GRIP's brain.

.HULL is not in a much better condition. His clothing and body are rent in numerous places, and it is mostly willpower that keeps him conscious and functioning. His right arm in particular is a mess of wounds, glass teeth, and blood oozing despite coagulation enhancers.

.COIL is unharmed, in stark contrast to the other two survivors. He recognizes the place - in back of the tent where the Oracle had thrown those cards. His subconscious had led the /CREW here. He dares not think about how dangerous that stunt was.

What now?

.GRIP hits the ground with a jolt, the jarring impact just another flash of pain to his already tortured body. A moan escapes his lips, and for one brief moment his eyes open to the kaleidoscope of colors, blurred through the tears of his agony. Then nothing. Nothing, but the nightmares.

"Are you there, .GRIP? Please, he's hurting me." .NIX's voice, calling to him, all sobs and grief, and pleading. But he can't find her. Her cries echo within a maelstrom of smoke and darkness. And .GRIP stands helpless, immobile, pinned in the spotlight of his own guilt. .NIX, so young, barely nineteen. Too young for a life of Ghosting. She looked up to him, and he failed her. Over and over again, he fails her every time. .NIX weeps and .BREAKER taunts... louder, louder, louder...

.GRIP convulses in the mud, his limbs sprawled out straight and stiff. He throws his head back and screams.

"HELP ME!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:23, Mon 29 Nov 2010.

"Don't move. Don't move!" .HULL yells as he tries to remove some of the thorns burrowing into .GRIP. It's fairly difficult with his right arm hanging limply at his side. The thorns seem to fight him, but he somehow manages to get the pull several of them out, before slumping down exhausted from the effort. He looks up, looking for help, and seeing only three of them he asks, "Where's .Demon?"

.COIL ironically recoils when he hits the earth, his fingers instinctively curled; Wounded, but a shallow cut compared to the gouges of the rest of teh /CREW. His helmed head turns once, dazzed as he tries to recognize the current /PLACE and ?Time. After a moment, the pieces click together - and he utters a quiet groan. The Oracle. His first step along the path to Compass, guiding /GHOSTS through the Aether..

But the risk of riding the threads was worth the effort to save teh /CREW. At least, most of them. At .HULL's question, .COIL speaks - his voice quiet and dead. "He's gone. I couldn't hold the tear open any longer. I.. had to make a choice between all of us or him."

It sounds worse, outloud. Selfish. And then he pushes himself up, moving to help .HULL by holding .GRIP down while the thorns are extracted.

"He...he saved my life...." .HULL whispers as he tries to get leverage with his left hand to remove one of the remaining thorns. "Maybe...maybe he got away..."

The darkness of .GRIP's hallucinations starts colouring the /WORLD in dark red tones. The ground beneath him soaked in blood and agony. Behind his eyes, .BREAKER does unspeakable things to .NIX... and reassembles her again, to do even worse. Her gaze locked on .GRIP, pleading, until there is nothing in the world but those terrified blue eyes. You loved me once, they say. Why did you let him do this? It is all your fault.

People start noticing, and Ghosts peer into /CREW's sanctuary. This must be anoter street performer, right? Pain artists are not at all uncommon in the Night Carnival. More and more Ghosts appear, eyes hungry for novelty and entertainment, but stay a respectful distance away as to not disturb the artist, silent to better hear the anguish in his voice. A few round metal oboli are thrown towards .GRIP, as if to pay him for a performance.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:43, Mon 29 Nov 2010.