Anja was over at the bar getting a drink.

<I hope the night treats you well> Luftewelle has ether passed out or fallen asleep.

Peter saddles up to the bar beside Anja, still nursing his one beer.

"So, Anja, what's next?  I'm guessing it's rather late to be visiting any of the other Sons this late in the 'eve.  Anything you'd like to discuss?  If not I'm probably going to call it a night," he says.

He covers his mouth as a yawn comes on.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:16, Fri 14 Oct 2011.

"Probably," Anja said while checking her watch for the time. "It is pretty late. How did things go with Luftwelle? Did you make any progress on whatever you were wanting to accomplish? I didn't want to hurt your chances so I didn't sit down with you. I've got a kind of bad reputation." Anja went back to nursing her own drink she had gotten before Cicatrix rejoined her.

"I doubt he'll even recognize me tomorrow," he says.

"All I want is to get past the tedious stage of initiate with the Sons of Ether.  My hope is to exchange whatever pleasantries are required so I can get on with my business.  I can't go back to my old Tradition and I don't fit in well with any of the others, so I'm kind of stuck with them."

He thinks for a moment.

"What exactly happened to you?" he asks, turning to her.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:12, Fri 14 Oct 2011.

"I blew up a lab and vaporized a library. It all belonged to my old mentor. He wasn't to happy with me." Anja looked back at Peter as if judging his reaction. "I have these dreams... I think maybe my avatar leads me through them... something. Anyway, they usually lead me to new discoveries. That time I just wasn't paying good enough attention to was I was doing and accidentally ignited the air inside the building. Made a pretty fireball."

"What tradition were you before you decided to pursue a life of Science?"

Peter shrugs.

"Accidents happen.  At least your mentor wasn't vaporized.  You might have deserved reprimand, but to be ostracized?  I've heard much worse stories of very famous, well respected mages.  You'll be back on your feet in no time."

He offers a toast.  "To new beginnings."

"Me?  I was with the Akashic Brotherhood," he states flatly, gauging her reaction now.  "I got along with most of them.  Not all of them, though.  That's how I got my, er, apparatus," he says, patting his chest.

"To new beginnings," Anja toasts

"Oh, he was burned, just wasn't killed... or vaporized. It got him pretty good though, third degree burns. And of course the building was toasted, nothing but a shell left. He probably should have been paying more attention too, but you'd never want to tell him that."

"An Akashic?" Anja leaned forward, interested. "Odd, but cool. You may want to check with the Adventurers Union or maybe the Ethernautical Society. What kind of Apparatus you got?"

"I presented a prototype Nano Repair Net to the team of physicians who repaired my nervous system.  It's a series of hollow, plasticine tubes that deliver medical-grade nanites with extreme precision and a range of approximately fifty feet.  Had I been wearing this chassis when I got hurt I might have been able to fix myself.  Unfortunately, it seems it was the trauma that catalyzed this particular invention," he explains.

"I never intending on using what I learned at the Temple for anything but spiritual development.  Not that I learned much, I've always been a bit uncoordinated when it comes punching and kicking.  I find violence distasteful.  I feel I'm more of a healer than an adventurer."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:47, Fri 14 Oct 2011.

"I do too. I never have liked violence. I can't stand to watch people get hurt." Anja agreed.

"What happened? Why can't you fix yourself now?"

(note you guys still on day 1.... rest of the stuff is going on the next day so if you guys wish to say get drunk on awakened drinks that are way stronger than you think they were and sleep in.. and not go out due to hang over... you can rp some stuff out in PMs and skip on up to join the stuff going on)

"Sorry, maybe I'm getting tipsy.  Not much of a drinker, you know.  What I was trying to say is, I wish I had this device before I got hurt, instead of after," he clarifies.

He thinks for another minute.

"Want to get drunk?"

"Oh... Um Well, if I can help, I will, but I don't know how. I don't know much about medicine."

Anja laughed at his question. it was apparent she had already crossed the line into tipsy.

"I'm already working on it," she replied.

"Right.  Excuse me, bartender?"  He points to the Awakened drink menu.

"Give me one of those.  Two, actually.  And give her another of whatever she's having."

From this point forward unto the morning Peter's memory is fuzzy.

end day 1

it's now 11 days until the auction.

Dr. Cicatrix gains 4 exp
Anja gains 1 exp



The hang over is a bitch, but least the local hotel's have anti-hangover drinks available.

The station rocks and the lights flicker some, a warning coming up over the intercom. "There is a minor security breach on the promenade, for your own safety please stay inside and avoid the promenade till further notice" This is not the sorta thing you need to hear when your nursing a hangover.

"Lights," he says, immediately regretting it.

Peter crawls off of the fold-down cot at the rear of his office, grimy and discombobulated.  He ops to wash up in the scrub sink, shuffling a few dozen feet from his office into the attached sanctum, all the while cursing the bright, antiseptic environment his trade necessitates.

After a splash on the face he walks to the center of his meager operating theater, still in his briefs.  Hanging in the center of the room is a tennis ball on a string*.  The doctor presses the ball into motion.  It swings out in a wide arc and returns, heading for him.  He dodges about, staying close but out of the way.  Usually this goes on for about fifteen minutes, one of the few practices from the Temple that stuck with him.  It's a novel way to get his morning workout.  The doctor wasn't a health nut but he tried to take stay in shape.  It also made for good physical therapy as he got used to his freshly augmented body.  Today he lasts all of a minute before giving up.

Breakfast is a batch of a nutritious, bland porridge.  Then he showers, taking a moment afterward to check himself out in the mirror.  Suture marks were no longer visible but the channels that carry the nano-repair net appear as oblong indentations following the countour of his arms, legs and sides.  Briefly there's a flash from yesterday, visions of surgical grade titanium alloy clamped to dry, dessicated flesh.  Peter quickly dresses.

"Security breach?  Really?"  He has a seat at the comm and tries to think of who he can call.  Did he even have contact information for Huoshi or Anja?

Anja.  Last thing he remembered was ordering three drinks.  Had they split off at some point?  He hoped they hadn't caused too much of a scene.  Shit happens when you blank out.  With any luck he'll see her again.

Assuming his place is empty and the lock down is still in effect, he tries to find contact information for Luftwelle, or any of the other available Etherite researchers.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:48, Sun 16 Oct 2011.

(oh and if you wish to roll your wits+Medicine at a diff 8~10, up to you depending on how much you think you char would actually remember something like that. You can have a back up of the events saved some where in your nano-mesh's hard-drive. You have enough medicine to know that the brains ability to send things from short term memory to long term fails when that drunk, so it's not so much you can't remember it's that there is nothing to remember because it never got saved)

Peter decides to root through his nano-mesh hard drive to piece together last night's shenanigans.  If nothing else it's best to ensure there's nothing incriminating on record...


FYI my specialty is cybernetics.  Here's the roll:

11:40, Today: Dr. Peter Cicatrix botched using 7d10 with the World of Darkness 2nd ed, Specialised system with a target of 8 with rolls of 7,7,4,2,5,1,2. wit+med: what happened last night?.

Awesome, if I was rating my rolls like golf scores...

You were thoughtful enough at some point to think to save your shorterm memory to your net. However unfortunately you didn't do so until you were so piss poor drunk you messed things up royally. Not only was everything saved such a jumbled mess of code it could take months to decrypt but you saved it over your rotes, forcing you take take a few minutes out of your hung over morning to restore them from external backups.

Well past 24 hours have certainly been a learning experience if nothing else.

Rolling over in her sleep, Anja woke up rather suddenly when she hit the floor. She groaned loudly as her head throbbed echoes of the impact with the floor. After a few minutes she felt steady enough to open her eyes and look around. Immediately when it dawned on her that she was in some operating room, Anja sat up while holding her head and checked herself out. There were no wounds or anything missing, so she breathed a little easier.

A fragment of memory caught up with her then and realized that she was in Peter's place. she was mostly undressed, a fact that made her wonder what exactly went on as she got to her feet.

It was about that time that the station's intercom beeped, demanding attention. Anja cursed the noise as she held her hand to her head again. She listened to the broadcast and hurriedly gathered her clothes and put them on. She then wandered off looking for Peter.

Peter's neck cranes.  Very, very slowly, he pushes away from his desk.  Through the small window in the door he wonders if he saw movement.  He slips up to the door and peeks through.

"Anja?  Anja!"  He offers a nervous wave through the window.  "I, um.  Hi."

He presses his finger on a blank spot along the door frame.  It took a few seconds to remember where the button is.  The door slides open.  Peter tries to look relaxed.

Anja hurried over to the door and opened it when Peter got her attention. "Oh Peter! Is this your place? What happened last night?"

He makes a face.

"Yeah, my place.  As to what happened?  That's an excellent question," he says.  "I have no clue."

Peter walks over to a small refridgerator beside his desk.

"Hungry?  I have protein bars, and not much else.  There might be a box of emergency rations around here somewhere.  An apple, I think.  IV bags full of parenteral nutrition supplement.  Yummy.  Got any plans during the lockdown?  We might be hanging out for awhile."

"Yeah, I am a little hungry. A protein bar will be fine. My head is pounding. I drank too much of that stuff, whatever it was." She walked over to where Peter was at the refrigerator and gratefully took one of the bars. "How much do you remember?"

"I'm not sure... did we graffiti something?  I remember ordering Awakened drinks.  The rest, not so much.  Looks like we had fun, maybe raised a little Hell, and somehow got back here intact.  No major injuries and we're not in a jail cell, so that's something," he says.